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angelsuecult · 2 months ago

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it ain’t me babe | s. crosby

Part 1 | Part 2

“i’m not the one you want, babe

i will only let you down”

warnings: none.

summary: you feel out of place at a wedding with Sidney, left wondering where your relationship is going.

request: We need Sid and younger girlfriend attending a wedding 👀 here realizing that maybe Sid should see other people angsty slow burn fluff smut maybe?

word count: 7.7k

song: it ain’t me - joan baez

a/n: WHY DID NONE OF YOU TELL ME MY STORIES WEREN’T UPLOADING TO SCHEDULE?? And to the original author of the question please don’t hesitate to reach out if you hate it and would like a different approach!

Part 1 | Part 2

—

You’re barely fastening the clasp of your earring when the knock comes at your door.

Shit.

You glance at the time—Sid’s early. Of course, he is. The man knows you too well, knows you’d be running around last-minute, half-dressed and cursing yourself for not getting ready sooner. He does this on purpose, you swear.

“Hang on!” you call, stepping into your heels and padding toward the door. You take a second to smooth your dress down, inhaling to collect yourself before pulling it open.

And there he is.

Sidney Crosby in a suit has always been a dangerous thing, but this? Slate-gray with that slight blue undertone, crisp white shirt underneath, tie done just right. He wears it like it’s nothing, like he didn’t just knock the breath out of you for a second. The broad set of his shoulders fills your doorway, his stance easy but composed. You know his tailor probably had to fight with him to get the fit just right because God forbid Sidney spends a second longer than necessary picking out clothes.

His eyes flick over you, a slow, deliberate once-over. “Damn.”

You smirk, tilting your head. “That good?”

“That bad,” he corrects, stepping in slightly. His voice is low, edged with something appreciative. “You tryin’ to kill me?”

You roll your eyes, but heat creeps up your neck anyway. “You clean up alright, I guess.”

Sid scoffs, shoving his hands into his pockets as he gives you a pointed look. “Yeah? That the best I’m getting?”

You bite your lip, letting your gaze flicker over him. “Fine. You look—decent.”

His brows raise.

“Passable,” you add.

“You’re full of shit,” he mutters, stepping into your apartment fully now, shutting the door behind him. His eyes don’t leave yours, but his mouth twitches like he’s trying not to grin. “You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

“Oh, pretty, huh?” you tease. “Not stunning? Not breathtaking?”

Sid exhales sharply, shaking his head. “You want a fuckin’ essay or somethin’? You look unreal, babe.” He leans in, voice dropping slightly. “Like I’m about to forget we have somewhere to be.”

You roll your eyes again, but your stomach flips. “Please. You’re so punctual, you’d probably have sex with me and still get us there early.”

That gets a laugh out of him, warm and low. “Multitasking’s a skill, y’know.”

You shake your head, turning to grab your clutch from the counter. “Alright, Romeo. Let me just—”

You pause, sighing. The clasp on your necklace is giving you a hard time, and your nails aren’t helping. You feel Sid behind you before he even says anything, his presence steady and familiar.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, hands brushing against your shoulders as he takes over. His fingers are warm against your skin, careful as he fastens it for you.

You exhale. “Thanks.”

Sid doesn’t step away immediately. He lets his fingers drift lightly over your collarbone, tracing the chain before dipping lower, just slightly. His voice is casual, but you hear the edge of amusement in it when he murmurs, “You smell good.”

You smile, resisting the urge to lean back into him. “You always say that.”

“’Cause it’s true.” His lips brush against the side of your neck, and you can feel his smirk. “What is it?”

“Same one I always wear.”

“Then why does it smell better tonight?”

You laugh, finally turning to face him. “Maybe I put on extra just for you.”

Sid grins, hands settling lightly at your waist. “Mm. Thought so.”

You press your hands against his chest, the fabric of his suit smooth under your palms. “Alright, Crosby. We should go before you get too distracted.”

He smirks but steps back, reaching for the door. “You sayin’ I don’t have self-control?”

“I’m saying you’re full of shit.”

Sid just laughs, waiting for you to step out before locking up behind you.

And he leads you outside, his hand firm and familiar on your lower back as he walks you toward the car. The air is cool, but you barely feel it with the heat of him so close.

He gets to the passenger side first, opening the door like a gentleman—except the cocky smirk on his face ruins the moment entirely.

"Look at me, such a gentleman," he says, voice dripping with self-satisfaction.

You snort, stepping past him to get in. "I was just about to say that. So chivalrous, Sidney. I’m swooning." He lets out a laugh, standing just behind you as you gather the fabric of your dress so it doesn’t catch.

"C’mon princess, in you go," he says, voice laced with amusement.

You give him a look as you settle into the seat. "I can get in a car by myself, you know."

"Sure you can," Sid smirks and leans down, one hand bracing the top of the door as he watches you adjust yourself. "But then I wouldn’t get to stare at your ass while you do it."

You scoff, swatting at his chest. "Jesus, Sid. Buy me a drink first."

"First of all, you love it. Second, you don’t even like the drinks at these things," he says easily, eyes glinting. Then he leans down a little further, dropping his voice. "And third, you know I’m right."

Your face heats, but you roll your eyes as you grab the seatbelt. "Unbelievable."

He laughs, shaking his head as he steps back and shuts the door. You watch as he rounds the car, taking his time, looking unfairly good while doing it. When he slides into the driver’s seat, he throws you a look—one of those easy, amused ones, where his mouth quirks up like you’re the most entertaining thing in his world.

“You always get this high maintenance before you go anywhere, or am I just lucky?”

“Oh, it’s just for you, baby,” you say sweetly.

You buckle up, getting comfortable, and then—instinctively, automatically—you reach for the radio.

Sid groans before you even touch it. "Babe."

You don’t even look at him, flipping through stations like it’s your goddamn job. "What?"

"You do this every time."

"And?"

"And—" He gestures vaguely, exasperated. "You’re not gonna find anything you like."

"You don’t know that," you argue, still pressing buttons, your face drawn in concentration.

Sid rests his elbow against the center console, watching you with an amused kind of annoyance. "You’re gonna cycle through, sigh dramatically, and then just plug in your phone like you always do."

You shoot him a look. "Not true."

He raises a brow. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Alright." He leans back, hands on the wheel, clearly settling in. "Go ahead, sweetheart. Take your time. I’ll just sit here, suffering."

"You’re so dramatic," you mutter, still clicking through static and commercials.

Sid just hums, watching in silence. You flip through three more stations before you sigh—dramatically, because fine, maybe he was right. You pull out your phone, scrolling through your playlists.

Sid laughs, loud and triumphant. "See? What did I fucking say?"

You huff, clicking on a song. "Shut up."

"You’re so predictable."

"You’re so annoying."

Sid just smirks, squeezing your thigh before pulling out of the parking spot.

You let the music fill the space, settling into the ride, before you reach up, flipping down the visor mirror. You check your reflection, tilting your head, adjusting an earring that doesn’t actually need adjusting.

Sid glances over. "Oh my god."

"What?" You swipe under your eye, checking for smudged mascara.

"Baby, you look fine."

"I just wanna make sure."

"You spent two hours getting ready."

"Yeah, and?"

"And—" He gestures vaguely again, exasperated. "You’re already fucking perfect. Stop fussing."

“Well, I need to make sure I stay perfect,” you say, adjusting your hair. “Can’t have people thinking you settled.”

Sid barks out a laugh. “Settled? Jesus, babe, I could show up to this thing in a fucking clown suit and people would still think I outkicked my coverage.”

You snort, capping your lipstick and tossing it into your clutch.

Which, speaking of—

Sid watches, shaking his head. "You carrying bricks in there?"

"It’s essentials."

"You don’t need all that shit."

You glance at him. "You questioning my process?"

"Absolutely."

You scoff. “It’s not that bad.”

Sid leans back in his seat, smirking. "Go on, then. Let’s see what you’ve got in there."

You narrow your eyes, but you humor him, setting your bag open on your lap and narrating as you pull things out one by one.

"Phone," you start, setting it aside. "Lipstick. Powder. Rings—"

"Why are your rings in there?"

"Because I didn’t feel like putting them on before I left, obviously," you say, slipping them onto your fingers now.

Sid shakes his head, grinning. "You’re something else."

You keep going. "Hair tie. Gum. Mini perfume, just in case—"

"In case of what? A body odor emergency?"

You ignore him. "Tampon."

Sid lets out a strangled laugh. "Well, that’s a buzzkill."

"You wish it was a buzzkill," you say, shoving it back into your clutch.

He smirks. "I do love an insurance policy."

You snort, giving him a playful shove before going back to your bag. "What else? Oh, mints."

"Why gum and mints?"

"In case I change my mind!"

Sid just shakes his head, muttering something under his breath as you continue your inventory.

Finally, you zip your clutch shut and sit back, satisfied.

Sid glances at you, amused. "You good now? Got everything?"

You exhale, nodding. "Yeah. I think I’m good."

"Thank fuck," he says dramatically, throwing the car into drive.

You smack his arm, and he just laughs, shooting you a look as he pulls out onto the road.

"You love me," you remind him.

He grins, squeezing your thigh again.

"Yeah, yeah. Lucky me."

It takes about thirty minutes to get there. And, like a true gentleman, Sidney helps you out of the car and into the venue.

And it is stunning. High ceilings draped with soft white fabric, chandeliers casting a warm golden glow, round tables set with crisp white linens and floral centerpieces so perfect they look straight out of a magazine. There’s a soft hum of conversation, glasses clinking, and occasional bursts of laughter. A string quartet plays softly in the background. It’s the kind of wedding that is effortless in its elegance, the kind of wedding where you don’t just attend—you experience it.

Sid steps up right beside you, his hand tightens around yours as you take it all in. “Nice place, huh?”

You nod. It is nice—really nice.

And then, like clockwork, it begins.

“Crosby!”

A voice calls out from across the room, and before you can even register who it belongs to, Sidney is already flashing a grin, lifting a hand in an easy wave.

A guy you don’t recognize claps Sid on the back, grinning wide. You barely have a second to register his face before another man steps in, another handshake, another enthusiastic greeting.

Sid is swept up so seamlessly it’s like muscle memory for him. A laugh here, a nod there, a quick remark that makes the whole group erupt in laughter. You smile politely as introductions are made, shaking hands, exchanging names that you instantly forget.

And just like that, he’s gone. Not physically—Sidney’s still right beside you—but it’s like he’s already been swept into a current, drawn into a world that, despite standing right here, you aren’t really a part of.

You feel the exact moment Sid drops your hand. It’s not intentional, not cruel, just... mindless. Which somehow feels worse. And you’re introduced a couple of times—Sid’s younger girlfriend, the polite smiles, the pleasant nods.

Though you're sure they won’t remember your name.

Not when they’re too busy swapping stories, reliving old memories, throwing easy, teasing jabs at Sid—

“Christ, still single? What the hell, man?”

“You holding out on us, or what?”

“No wife, no kids, just hockey, huh?”

And Sid laughs because of course he does. He takes it in stride, throws a few chirps back, and makes them laugh even harder.

You stand there, hands wrapped around your clutch, a smile fixed in place.

Then, without so much as a glance in your direction, Sidney gently nudges you toward the reception area. “Why don’t you go find our table, baby. I’ll be there soon.”

It’s so thoughtless, so effortless, the way he says it. Like he doesn’t even think twice about sending you on your way.

And you? You don’t argue. You don’t tell him you’d rather stay by his side, that you’d rather be included. Because what would be the point?

So you go.

Your heels click against the floors as you weave through the crowd, offering polite nods and small smiles when necessary. People acknowledge you, but only in passing.

A couple at the bar glances your way, the woman offering a smile before turning back to her conversation. An older man—someone’s father, maybe—nods at you as you pass. Another woman, somewhere in her thirties, gives you a glance before returning to her drink.

No one stops you. No one pulls you into a conversation.

Because, to them, you’re just Sidney’s girlfriend.

Not someone with stories of their own, not someone with history or shared memories. No career in hockey so that automatically means your input isn’t welcome. Just the young woman on Sidney Crosby’s arm.

You find your table near the edge of the dance floor. It’s beautifully set—crystal glassware, gold-rimmed plates, a small handwritten place card with your name in elegant script.

But even as you lower yourself into your seat, smoothing the fabric of your dress over your lap, you feel the same lingering disconnect.

Sid is still across the room, engaged in yet another conversation. And then another. And another. And the others at your table have yet to acknowledge your presence.

It happens over and over again.

Someone calls his name, he turns, he smiles. A handshake, a laugh, a knowing nod. The conversations blend together—hockey stories, old teammates, friendly jabs about how he’s still at it, still playing, still single, still Sidney Crosby.

And maybe it’s the wedding, or the company, or the way he’s been effortlessly navigating the room while you’ve been left sitting alone even at a table full of people—but something tightens in your chest.

You take a sip of water, suddenly hyper-aware of the weight of your own presence here.

Sid is still talking, still laughing. The people around him are engaged, captivated, drawn in by whatever story is being told.

And you?

You’re just… there.

And just like that, the night drags on.

One hour turns into two. Two turn into three.

In that time, you’ve hardly spoken a word.

You’re still here. Alone.

Still at this table, a glass of champagne untouched, half-eaten food sitting cold on your plate, the candle in the center of the table burning lower and lower.

Laughter, the tinkling of glasses, the low sound of music mingling with conversation. Time moves in a strange way here–too fast in some ways, too slow in others.

Sid’s still across the room. Different circle, same conversation. Or maybe it’s a new one. Maybe it’s the fifth or sixth or tenth. You’ve lost count. But he looks so at ease, so comfortable, like he belongs here in a way you never will. And as much as you love him, as much as you want to believe that you can fit in his world, moments like this make you wonder if that's even possible.

You’re pretty sure you could vanish from this chair and no one would bat an eye.

The first hour wasn’t so bad. You kept yourself occupied, playing with your utensils, checking your phone, sipping at your drink.

But you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he dropped your hand. It might’ve been thoughtless, but that made all the difference.

The second hour was harder. You started feeling it then, the weight of being left with no one to talk to, especially because Sidney hadn’t joined the table for dinner.

Now? Now, you’re just here.

You haven’t spoken to Sidney since you arrived together. The others at your table are talking amongst themselves.

And you? Well you drum your fingers against the table, eyes scanning the room. The dance floor is packed now, couples swaying under dim lighting, some moving a little too slow for the tempo of the song. It’s romantic, in a way.

You love dancing at weddings, and well–Sidney’s far too busy entertaining his hockey groupies. Maybe you should ask that old guy sitting alone at the bar.

You wonder if Sid even knows what time it is.

You hear the sound of someone sitting down at your table. You look up, and a woman in her mid-40s, with perfectly styled hair and a glass of wine in hand, meets your eyes with a bright, curious smile.

“I hear you’re Sidney’s date tonight,” she says, her tone light but carrying that tone of curiosity.

You smile politely, already bracing yourself for the inevitable questions. “Yeah, that’s right.”

She exhales a soft laugh, something like intrigue flickering in her expression. “Wow. How old are you honey?”

The bluntness catches you off guard, but you force a smile. “Uh, twenty-four.”

“Oh!” Her eyes widen, and her hand briefly touches her chest, as if you’ve just told her you’re fresh out of high school. “What a surprise.”

You give a tight-lipped smile, unsure of how to respond. It’s not the first time someone’s commented on the age difference between you and Sid, and it probably won’t be the last. Still, the way she’s looking at you, like you’re some kind of curiosity, makes your skin prickle.

Before you can say anything else, a few other women, all in similar age brackets as the first, drift over to join the conversation. They greet the first woman warmly before turning their attention to you. Their eyes rake over you with thinly veiled interest, and you can already tell where this is headed.

“So,” one of them says, her tone laced with curiosity. “You’re Sidney’s date?”

“That’s what I just said,” the first woman replies with a knowing grin.

You nod, trying to keep your smile polite and neutral. “Yeah, I am.”

“Well, aren’t you a lucky girl,” one of the women comments, her tone a little too sweet. “I mean, Sidney Crosby! He’s, what, 35 now?”

You nod again, not really sure what to say. “Yeah, he just turned 35.”

Another woman, a blonde with sharp cheekbones and a diamond necklace that looks expensive enough to buy a house, lets out a soft laugh. “He’s practically a national treasure. I bet people just lose their minds when they see you two together.”

You smile, hoping the conversation stays at least somewhat friendly, but there’s a strange tension building that you can’t quite place.

One of the women, a brunette in a dress that clings to her figure, gives you a long, appraising look. “You know,” she says with a smirk, “you remind me of that movie with Richard Gere and the fiery redhead. What’s it called? Pretty Woman?”

Your brows knit together. “Oh, you think I look like Julia Roberts?”

She smiles, like you’re adorable. “You could say that. But I was thinking more about the other thing.”

You blink, the implication sinking in.

Oh.

Your stomach twists.

The first woman giggles, catching on. “God, that’s awful,” she says, but she’s laughing like it’s not.

“I mean,” the blonde continues, swirling her drink, “it’s not that different, right? Gorgeous younger woman, powerful older guy…”

The third woman smirks. “Except in this version, the guy’s a hockey player instead of a businessman.”

“And he didn’t have to pay for her company,” the first woman adds with a giggle.

You laugh, because what the fuck else are you supposed to do? You laugh, because it’s easier than acknowledging the weight of their words, the way their comments slide under your skin like cold, sharp needles.

“Oh, come on,” the blonde says, nudging your arm. “You’re not offended, are you?”

“No,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “No, it’s funny.”

She smiles, satisfied, then takes a slow sip of her champagne.

The brunette lets out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Don’t take it the wrong way, sweetheart. It’s just that, well… you’re so young. Practically a baby. And Sidney? He’s… well, let’s just say it’s obvious why he’s with you.”

You try to laugh it off, but it sounds forced even to your own ears. “Right…”

One of the other women pipes up with a teasing grin. “Midlife crisis, right? Every man gets one eventually. They just want something young and fresh to keep them feeling young, you know?”

The second woman snorts. “Guess it was either a sports car or a twenty-four-year-old.”

“Well,” the third woman muses, tapping a finger to her chin. “A sports car probably wouldn’t keep him warm at night.”

You laugh again, though it feels hollow in your chest.

“Oh, come on, now,” the blonde chimes in again, clearly having fun with the way you’re squirming. “We’re just teasing. But really, how long have you been with Sid? A couple months? Bet he’s just swept you off your feet, huh?”

You open your mouth to answer, but one of the women cuts you off with a snicker. “Oh, I bet he has. Must be nice to have a guy like that, huh? With all that stamina...”

“God,” one of them says with a chuckle, giving you a once-over. “You are young. How long have you and Sid been together, really?”

“Over a year.”

“Over a year?” The other one lets out a low whistle. “Wow, that’s impressive. And you’re already sitting through one of these things? You must be committed.”

“Oh, come on, ladies. I think it’s sweet,” one of them drawls, swirling her wine. “Older men love a hot young thing on their arm. Keeps ’em feeling young.”

“Yeah, but at what point does it get sad? Like, at what age does it start looking more ‘divorced dad’ than ‘hot older guy’?”

“Probably when she graduates college.”

The laughter rolls through the group again, light and airy.

You hum, taking a slow sip of champagne. Though it tastes a little sour now.

“Besides,” another adds, smirking, “I bet Sid loves having someone so...energetic in bed.”

The table howls.

And fuck, you laugh, too, even though it feels more than wrong.

You feel raw, exposed, like they’ve pinned you down and picked you apart piece by piece, all while smiling, all while meaning nothing by it.

And maybe that’s the worst part.

They don’t even realize how shitty it is.

It’s not that the jokes are vicious.

It’s just that they’re at your expense.

And you let them be.

And Sid—Sid doesn’t even know. Why would he?

He’s still across the room, caught up in conversation, in familiarity, in a place that has always been his, while you sit here, drinking shitty champagne and wondering how the hell you ended up feeling this alone at a table full of people.

It's not his job to babysit you, though, is it? But would it have killed him to talk to you outside of dismissing you from his conversation? Or to sit and eat dinner with you? To ask if you wanted a drink. Or even to ask you to dance? Maybe that's why you feel so out of place. This isn’t your world; it’s Sidney’s, and that's perfectly fine. But would it be too much to ask for your date to spend a measly second with you?

Eventually, you slip out of the reception hall unnoticed.

No one calls after you, no one asks where you’re going.

It’s fine. It’s fine.

The air is cooler here, quieter, the distant hum of conversation and music muffled by the thick walls of the venue.

You don’t have a destination in mind, just an aimless need to be somewhere else—somewhere not at that table, smiling through another round of backhanded jokes and polite pleasantries.

And you find yourself in front of the coat check, a long bench against the wall offering a lonely place to sit.

You sink down onto it with a sigh, letting your head tilt back against the wall.

It’s fine.

The night’s almost over, anyway.

Right?

It’s been four—five?—hours. Who’s counting?

You tug your phone out of your clutch and check the time. Yeah. Five hours.

Jesus.

“You heading out?”

Blinking, you turn toward the coat check counter, where a young guy—early twenties, maybe—leans against the ledge. He’s got a tie loosely knotted around his neck, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a clipboard in hand. His name tag, slightly askew, reads Ethan.

“Not yet. No.”

He raises a brow, shifting his weight against the counter. “Just hanging out by the coat closet for fun, then?”

You smile, tapping your fingers against your knee. “I’m hoping my date will come looking for me, realize I’m gone, and we’ll head out.” You sigh dramatically. “Maybe in an hour or two.”

The guy snorts. “Damn. That bad, huh?”

You raise a brow. “Eh. It’s fine. You work a lot of weddings?”

“More than I can count.” He taps the clipboard against his palm. “Seen it all. Drunken speeches, fistfights, groomsmen throwing up in planters. You name it.”

You snort. “Sounds like a fun gig.”

“Oh, tons of fun,” he deadpans. “Nothing like watching a mother-in-law cry because she hates the centerpieces.”

You shake your head, lips curving.

“So,” he continues, cocking his head, “you on the bride’s side or groom’s side?”

“Neither,” you admit. “I’m a plus-one.”

“Ah. Who’s your date?”

“He’s an ex-teammate of the groom.”

He lets out a low whistle. “So, basically, everyone in there’s a hockey player.”

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

He leans his forearms on the counter, looking amused. “Failed, retired, or current?”

You grin. “All of the above.”

His eyes narrow playfully. “You’re not a hockey player, though.”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

He gives you a once-over. “Yeah, you don’t have the vibe. Too put-together. And you still have all your teeth.”

You laugh, genuinely this time.

He studies you for a beat. “So how’s your night been?”

You open your mouth to say fine, but what comes out instead is—

“Well, I just got called a hooker and a midlife crisis in one sitting, so.”

Ethan chokes. “Jesus Christ.”

You shrug.

“Who the hell’s your date?” he asks again, eyes narrowing. “Because he sounds like he fucking sucks at his job.”

You glance toward the closed doors of the reception, then back at him. “Sidney Crosby.”

Ethan stares at you. Then he exhales a laugh, rubbing the back of his head. “Well, there you have it,” he says. “Old as dirt Sidney with a… how old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

He raises his brows. “Eh. Not that bad.”

You huff. “Glad to hear it.”

“If it makes you feel better,” he adds, propping his chin on his hand, “I’ve already had to stop three drunk couples from trying to sneak into the coat closet to fuck.”

You lift a brow. “Three?”

He nods solemnly. “One of them was definitely old enough to be my parents.”

You grimace. “Christ.”

“Exactly.” He shakes his head. “So, really, your night could be worse.”

You smirk, tilting your head. “You mean I could be fucking in the coat closet?”

He grins. “See? Silver linings.”

You roll your eyes, stretching your legs out in front of you, smoothing your hands over your dress as you glance toward the coat check counter.

“So,” you say, tilting your head, “is this, like, your full-time gig?”

He shakes his head, adjusting his headset. “Nah. Just part-time. Helps pay for school.”

You perk up. “Ohh. College student.” A slow grin spreads across your lips. “You’re just a baby.”

His mouth drops open slightly before he lets out a scoff. “I’m 22, not 2.”

You hold up your hands in mock surrender, biting back a laugh. “Relax, kid.”

He points a finger at you. “You’re not even that much older than me.”

You pretend to be deep in thought. “Mmm. You say that, but I’m practically ancient in your eyes. What are 24-year-olds to you? Fossils?”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, please. If you’re a fossil, then Sidney Crosby is—”

“A museum exhibit,” you finish, nodding solemnly.

He grins. “Exactly. So, you're not that much older than me, then.”

You wave a dismissive hand. “In college years, two years is a lot. You’re still in that phase where you think mixing vodka with Gatorade is a good idea.”

He raises a brow. “And what phase are you in?”

You hum, pretending to think about it. ��The phase where I know mixing vodka with Gatorade is only a good idea if you’ve got nothing else left in the fridge.”

He leans against the counter, shaking his head. “Jesus man, twenty-four and thirty-five is wild. That’s, like…” He pauses, pretending to do the math in his head. “That’s a whole thirteen years.”

Your mouth twitches. “11 actually. Solid math skills. College is treating you well, huh?”

He grins. “Damn right.” Then, after a beat, “So, what’s it like? Dating an elderly man?”

You snort. “Honestly? Kind of nice. Early bedtimes. Dinner at four-thirty. Always has Werther’s Originals in his pocket.”

He lets out a loud laugh. “No fucking way.”

You shrug, completely deadpan. “No point lying about it. Just last week he was complaining about his knees. His knees.”

He wipes a fake tear from his eye. “Unreal.”

You sigh dramatically. “The burden of dating an aging athlete.”

He grins. “You’re a real one for sticking around.”

You smirk. “Someone’s gotta help him up the stairs.”

“Someone’s gotta help him out of bed.”

You tilt your head. “You joke, but honestly, have you ever seen a hockey player wake up in the morning? It’s like watching an old dog stretch. Takes him, like, five whole minutes to fully stand up straight.”

He’s full-on wheezing now. “Please.”

You hold up a hand. “Swear to God. You know that snap, crackle, pop sound Rice Krispies make?”

He nods, barely holding it together.

“That’s Sidney every morning.”

That’s it. He loses it completely, practically doubled over laughing. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he gasps.

“Anyway, now that we’ve established that I’m a grown-ass man, wanna guess what I’m studying?”

You tap a finger against your chin, pretending to consider. “Hmm. Something in hospitality? Customer service? You seem way too unbothered for someone who has to deal with drunk rich people all night.”

“Business,” he says, then makes a face. “I know. Riveting.”

You shrug. “Hey, business is important. You could be running this whole venue one day.”

“Yeah, or scamming people on Wall Street.”

“Oh, so that’s the real plan.”

He taps his nose knowingly. “Gotta make that coat check money stretch.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t know, seems like a good ideas. You would get to people-watch, make fun of drunk wedding guests, witness some truly awful flirting…”

“Break up couples fucking in the coat closet,” he adds.

You grin. “Right, that too, you already have the experience.”

“It’s alright,” he admits.

You hum in acknowledgment.

“But I actually wanna do something cool with it, I swear.”

“Uh-huh.” You tilt your head. “Like what?”

He shrugs. “I wanna open my own bar. Something, like, good, though. Classy. Not just some sticky-floored shithole that only serves cheap beer and watered-down whiskey.”

You lift a brow. “So, you wanna open a fancy bar.”

He grins. “Yeah, but cool fancy. Not asshole fancy.”

You smirk. “Big dreams.”

He nods. “Huge.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Well, at least you’d be making an honest living. Can’t say the same for me, apparently.”

He winces. “Yeah, hey at least you’re escorting Sidney Crosby to weddings. Could be worse. Like some old scrub no one remembers.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Ha, ha.”

He smirks. “I mean, those people back there seemed pretty convinced.”

“Yeah, well, they can choke,” you mutter, rolling your eyes.

He laughs. “Fair.”

You sigh dramatically. “If only I weren’t so well-behaved.”

He smirks. “If only you weren’t Sidney Crosby’s well-behaved girlfriend. Unlike some people at this wedding.”

You let out a sharp laugh, covering your mouth. “Jesus Christ.”

“What?” He grins, unbothered. “That’s what they think, right? You know, sell your body for some cash.”

You laugh.

He gestures at you. “See? This is a real conversation. None of that fake, rich-people bullshit in there.”

You exhale, nodding. “Yeah. It’s… nice.”

And it is. Really nice. It’s the most you’ve talked all night without feeling like you’re walking some social tightrope. No polite smiles, no fake laughs, no backhanded compliments. Just talking.

You’re just about to say something when Your phone buzzes on the bench beside you. You don’t rush to grab it, already having a pretty good guess at who it is.

Sid: You ready to head out?

You purse your lips, debating. Are you ready? Maybe. Do you care?

You: Up to you.

The typing bubble pops up almost immediately.

Sid: Where are you?

You glance up at the coat check counter, at your new best friend of the evening—who’s leaning against the back wall, scrolling idly on his phone.

You: Bathroom.

Technically, not a lie. Just… a creative interpretation of events.

Sid: Meet me at the coat desk?

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Oh, you mean the place I’ve been sitting for the past 45 minutes? What a coincidence.

Instead, you just type out a simple:

You: Sure.

“Ah,” he says knowingly. “Your date finally remembered you exist.”

You let out a dry laugh. “Yep. Miracles do happen.”

He holds a hand to his chest. “Wow. I’m so happy for you.”

You roll your eyes. “Ha, ha.” You glance around the empty hall before sighing. “Hate to cut the night short, but, y’know… duty calls.”

He nods solemnly. “Understandable. You’ll be missed.”

You smirk. “Hey, maybe one day I’ll get married here.” You gesture around dramatically. “And I’ll be sure to bring you back as my coat guy, since you’re doing such a stellar job at keeping away the drunks.”

He grins. “I’d be honored.”

You shake your head, glancing at your phone.

And then you wait.

And wait.

Because of course, Sidney saying meet me at the coat desk actually means I will take my sweet-ass time getting there.

You lean against the counter, resisting the urge to check your phone again.

Another twenty minutes pass. Then ten more.

“You sure he’s coming?” Coat Guy teases.

You shoot him a look. “Shut up.”

“I mean, I could totally give you a ride home—”

You smirk. “Do you even have a car?”

“…I could get us an Uber.”

You let out a laugh tilting your head toward him. “You know, for someone who was in a rush to leave, he’s sure taking his time.”

He snorts. “Yeah, well, he is old. Maybe he forgot where the coat desk is.”

“Fuck, you’re right. Should I go look for him? Maybe he got lost.”

“Probably wandering the halls like a confused grandpa.”

“Poor guy.”

“I know. Should I page him? ‘Sidney Crosby, please report to the coat check. Your much younger date is waiting for you.’”

You laugh. “God, please do.”

As if on cue, Sid finally rounds the corner, looking not the least bit rushed. He’s still got that stupid effortlessly charming thing going on, tie slightly loosened, jacket draped over his arm. He spots you immediately, his expression softening just a fraction.

“There you are.”

“Here I am,” you say dryly, standing up straighter.

Sid eyes you for a beat, like he can’t tell if you’re actually annoyed or just messing with him. You don’t exactly help him out, keeping your face as neutral as possible.

He turns his attention to the coat guy, nodding in greeting. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He gives him a knowing smirk but doesn’t say anything else.

Sid doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he does but just doesn’t care. Either way, he turns back to you. “Got everything?”

You lift your clutch slightly. “Mhm.”

Sid nods, then slides his jacket back on, rolling his shoulders as he adjusts it. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Yeah,” you say, not bothering to hide your exasperation.

Sid places a warm hand on your lower back, guiding you toward the exit. As you pass the desk, you shoot him a wink. “Don’t miss me too much.”

“I’ll try,” he says, grinning. “No promises, though.”

Sid glances between the two of you but doesn’t say anything. Just tightens his hand slightly against your back as he leads you out.

And just like that, you’re finally leaving.

Hours too late, but hey. Who’s counting?

Sid’s hand stays on your lower back as he leads you to the car. The night air is cool, but not unpleasant, and the walk is quiet. You don’t really reach for him. Don’t hold his arm or lace your fingers through his. You just hold onto your clutch, letting the silence settle between you. Sid doesn’t push it, just keeps his hand steady as he guides you toward the car.

The parking lot is mostly empty now, save for a few stragglers lingering near their cars, caught up in post-wedding conversations. Sid unlocks the car with a click of the key fob, and you both slide in without a word. The door shuts with a solid thunk.

Once inside, the radio hums softly in the background—some classic rock station Sid always defaults to. You don’t reach to change it this time. You just pull out your phone, scrolling for a moment before you open a text thread with a friend and start typing something, not thinking too hard about it.

You: If you ever get invited to a wedding full of ex-hockey players, politely decline.

Sid glances over at you before shifting the car into reverse, backing out of the spot. The drive starts off the same way the walk did—quiet. Not necessarily tense, just…muted. It’s been a long night, after all.

A couple of minutes in, Sid finally breaks the silence. “How was your night?”

You don’t look up from your phone. “Great.”

He waits a beat, like he’s expecting more. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, eyes still on your screen. “Food was a little dry, but no complaints.”

Sid hums. “Okay.”

The car falls back into silence, save for the steady sound of the tires against the pavement and the occasional change in song on the radio. You keep texting, your thumbs moving idly over the screen.

After a while, Sid speaks again. “Did you get to talk to anyone?”

You let out a short breath—almost a laugh. “Sort of.”

Sid glances at you briefly before turning his attention back to the road. “What does that mean?”

You set your phone down in your lap, finally looking over at him. “I mean, the three women who did talk to me were very funny.”

Sid frowns slightly. “Funny?”

You smile, but there’s no real warmth behind it. “Hilarious, actually.”

His fingers tighten around the wheel. “Okay…”

That’s the end of that conversation. Another stretch of silence. The wedding venue fades into the distance behind you, the city lights coming into view ahead.

A few more minutes pass before you shift slightly in your seat, looking out the window. “Hey, can you just take me home?”

Sid glances at you again, brows furrowing. “I thought we agreed you’d just come back to my place.”

You nod. “Yeah, we did. I just…kinda want to go home now.”

Sid’s grip on the wheel tightens just a fraction. “Why?”

You shrug. “I just want to sleep in my own bed.”

Sid exhales through his nose. “You like my bed.”

You nod again. “I do.”

“But you don’t want to sleep in it tonight?”

“Not really.”

Sid doesn’t respond right away. Just keeps driving, his expression unreadable. He’s confused, you can tell. The change of plans is throwing him off.

You pick at the hem of your dress. “It’s fine,” you say lightly. “We can just go back to your place and I’ll call an Uber to take me home.”

Sid lets out a small, humorless laugh. “I can take you home. It’s not a big deal.”

You look over at him. “Great.”

But it doesn’t feel great. It feels weird. Off.

Sid’s jaw flexes slightly as he makes a turn, the city lights casting shadows over his face. “Did something happen?”

You shake your head. “No.”

Sid doesn’t look convinced. “Then why are you acting weird?”

“I’m not acting weird.”

“You are acting weird.”

You sigh, leaning your head back against the seat. “I’m just tired, Sid. It’s been a long night.”

Sid exhales sharply. “Yeah, no shit.”

He exhales sharply through his nose, clearly confused. The tension in the car thickens, stretching between you like a tightrope. The night has been long—too long—and the last thing you want is to get into it with him right now.

But Sid doesn’t just let things go.

A few minutes pass before he speaks again, his voice edged with frustration. “You’re gonna tell me what’s wrong, or are we just gonna sit here pretending everything’s fine?”

Your fingers curl around the hem of your dress. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Sid lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah. Okay.”

You glance over at him, irritation creeping into your voice. “What do you want me to say, Sidney?”

“How about the truth?”

You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “Jesus Christ.”

Sid shakes his head too, gripping the wheel tighter. “You were fine earlier. And now, all of a sudden, you wanna go home, and I have no fucking clue why.”

“Maybe I just want to sleep in my own bed for once.”

“That’s bullshit,” he mutters.

You scoff. “Excuse me?”

He rubs a hand over his jaw, voice tense. “You stay at my place all the time. You’ve never had a problem with it before.”

“Well, maybe tonight I do.”

Sid glances at you, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. “So what happened?”

You look straight ahead, jaw tight.

Sid’s fingers tap against the wheel. “Jesus,” he mutters. “If you don’t wanna be here, just fucking say it.”

Your stomach twists. “That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what it feels like.”

You inhale slowly through your nose, trying to keep your temper in check. You’re both tired. You’re both irritated. And this is getting nowhere.

Finally, you exhale. “Just take me home, Sid.”

He presses his lips together, nods once, and changes lanes. The rest of the drive is silent, thick with unspoken words and unasked questions pressing in from all sides as Sid pulls up to your apartment building. The soft hum of the engine is the only sound between you. The streetlights cast a dull glow through the windshield, illuminating the set of his jaw, the furrow of his brows, and the way his fingers tap once against the steering wheel before stilling completely.

You unbuckle your seatbelt, pausing briefly before grabbing your purse from the floorboard. "Thanks for a great night," you say, voice light, almost distant.

Sid doesn't answer right away, just stares ahead at the dashboard, his lips pressing into a thin line.

You're already reaching for the door handle when he finally mutters, "Yeah."

You hesitate, gripping the strap of your purse a little tighter. But you don't look at him. You can't. Not when you’re already hanging by a thread.

So you just slip out of the car, closing the door behind you with a soft click.

No I love you.

No goodnight kiss.

Nothing.

Sid stays parked, his headlights illuminating the pavement in front of your building. You know he’s waiting. He always waits. Won’t leave until he sees the light in your apartment turn on. A silent reassurance that you made it inside safely.

You fish your keys out of your purse and make your way up the short set of stairs to your building entrance, the lump in your throat growing tighter with every step.

This is the right call.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

You unlock the door, step inside, and flick on the hallway light. A soft glow spills out onto the pavement outside.

You don’t have to turn around to know Sid is still there. Still watching.

You stand there for a second, fingers curling around the doorknob, waiting—listening.

Any second now, you’ll hear his car pull out of his usual parking spot.

Any second now.

But the street outside stays quiet.

Your chest tightens.

You could turn around. Walk back down the steps. Open the car door and say, Hey, sorry for being weird tonight, I just—

Just what?

You should’ve just talked it out with him. Should’ve let him in instead of shutting down. He deserves more than this. So, why do you feel like he did something wrong tonight?

You squeeze your eyes shut.

No.

You made your choice.

Maybe—maybe in some sick and twisted, selfish way, a break will be easier this way.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

Maybe if you make the distance now, if you start pulling away, it won’t hurt as much when you finally tell him what you’ve been feeling. That you’re not the one for him. That tonight made that painfully clear how you just don’t fit into his world. That you’re not the match you thought you were.

It’s not his fault. It’s just… how it is. And he deserves someone whose hand he won’t stupidly drop, whose presence he won’t carelessly dismiss.

You squeeze your eyes shut, inhaling a slow, shaky breath. Then another.

Still, you don’t hear the car move.

Dragging in a slow breath, you step further into your apartment and close the door behind you. Your throat tightens. You press your palm flat against the door, like you can feel the weight of him still out there, just on the other side.

Even then, you don’t hear Sid drive away.

You stay exactly where you are.

Listening. Waiting.

Hating yourself for hoping he doesn’t leave just yet.

—

#angelsuecultwrites #angelsuecult #it ain’t me babe | s. crosby #sidney crosby #sidney crosby fic #sidney crosby imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl players #pittsburgh penguins #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby smut #reqs open

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aajjks · 4 months ago

Text

FUCK! (VI)

synopsis. You hated your roommate but he had the biggest crush on you, fuck.

pairing: fboy!jk x fem!reader

genre: f2l, e2l, roommates au, fboy au (wow so many cliches), comedy au, mature themes, bad language, sex jokes.

disclaimer. this is purely fictional and this doesn’t represent bts’ jungkook irl. mature themes 18+ content ahead. mdni. ps. this jungkook thinks w his dick 👍

warnings jüngkøøk béïng döwn bàd (lïké réällÿ bäd), méntïøns øf tïts (béçäûsé øf çøûrsé), flüstéréd yn, bût shé’ll névér ädmït ït, jeøñ ‘nø filtér’ jüngkøøk, çhäøtïc énérgÿ évérÿwhéré, ünëxpëçtéd søft mømënts (døñ’t lét ït føøl yöü), jungkøøk béïng øbsësséd wïth yn ïñ thät drëss, brëädstïçk äbüsë, yn mïght bé çätçhïñg fëëlïñgs?? (üh øh), éxçéssïvé üsë øf thë wørd ‘b��bé’

note. OMG I HOPE YOU GUYS WILL ENJOY THIS. I AM SUPER SORRY FOR THE DELAY. PLEASE ENJOY OUR FUCKBOY.

series masterlist

You thought you’d feel normal again after giving Jungkook a chance,

Maybe even smug about the way he’d screamed like an idiot after you said yes. But, no. The man-child has been unbearable since this morning.

“Yn… what do you think about sunsets? Romantic, right?”

You glance up from your laptop, watching Jungkook hover in the doorway to the living room, hands clasped behind his back like he’s about to pitch a PowerPoint presentation about sunsets.

“Uh… yeah?” You squint. “Why?”

He grins. “Just gathering intel.”

“Intel for what?”

You are pretty sure he’s about to do something really stupid like always.

“Oh, nothing.” His smile turns suspiciously smug. “You’ll see. Just dress cute tomorrow night.”

You stare blankly at him for a second before turning back to your work. “Right. That’s not concerning at all.”

First of all, you don’t trust him for shit.

Jungkook doesn’t respond, but you can feel him still watching you. His energy practically radiates off him. You ignore him for as long as you can, but after a full two minutes, you can’t take it anymore.

“Do you mind?” you snap, not looking up.

Can he get out already?

“I can’t help it,” Jungkook whines. “You’re so hot when you’re focused. Look at you typing away like a boss. Ugh.”

You throw a pen at him, and he dodges, laughing as he runs back into the living room.

You can’t lie, his compliments make you feel a lot more hotter, and yes, you are kind of hot.

•••

Later that evening, you catch him in the kitchen, leaning over the counter with his phone in one hand and a protein bar in the other. He’s muttering to himself like a man with a mission.

“No, no, too cliché. Flowers are boring. Chocolate? Nah, she doesn’t like sweet stuff… But what if she secretly does?”

It’s official he’s fucking crazy.

You cannot believe that he’s actually talking to himself, but you kind of find it cute, he’s adorable, but you won’t say that to his face.

“Talking to yourself again?” you ask, grabbing a glass of water.

Jungkook jumps, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Uh—no. Totally not planning anything.”

Your brow lifts. “You’re literally the worst liar I’ve ever met.” A smile threatens to break.

He pouts. “It’s called mystery, yn. Look it up.”

“Sure, Jeon. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

As you head back to your room, you hear him mutter under his breath. “Mystery, huh? Yeah, I should add that to the date.”

•••

The next day, you’re already regretting giving him a chance. He’s been texting you all day with a mix of cryptic hints and straight-up nonsense.

And to be honest, he cannot type for shit.

Jk: do u like candles??? like…romantic ones

You: ?? sure i guess

Jk: got it

Jk: r u allergic to flowers??? asking for a friend

You: no. why.

Jk: just wondering. no reason. :)

Jk: YN CAN U WEAR THAT BLACK DRESS U LOOK SO GOOD IN PLS

You: ??????

Jk: or anything really. ur always hot. i love u btw.

This stupid fuck makes you smile so much.

By the time you get home, you’re exhausted. not from work, but from Jungkook’s constant existence. He’s waiting for you in the living room, dressed in a button-up shirt and black jeans, looking way too good for someone whose personality is 80% chaos and 20% football obsession.

“Why are you dressed like that?” you ask, dropping your bag on the floor.

Jungkook beams. “We’re going out! Duh. It’s date night, baby.”

“Date night?” you repeat, staring at him like he’s lost his mind. “I didn’t agree to that.”

“Yes, you did.” He crosses his arms. “Yesterday. When you said I could take you out. Ring a bell?”

It is sometimes fun to play dumb in front of him, you just like to test his patience a little bit.

“I didn’t think you’d plan it this fast.”

“What can I say? I’m efficient.” oh you know just how efficient he can be.

You sigh. “Fine. Give me twenty minutes.”

“Take your time, babe.” He grins, leaning against the doorframe as you walk past him. “Wear something sexy!”

What a shameless pervert but you will wear something nice nonetheless.

•••

Twenty-five minutes later, you’re sitting across from Jungkook at a rooftop restaurant. The view is gorgeous, the atmosphere is romantic, and Jungkook looks absolutely smug about the whole thing.

You’re honestly impressed, but seeing that smug smile on his face makes you want to strangle him, but damn, he outdid himself.

When it comes to Jeon Jungkook? You don’t really like to have high expectations of anything from him.

But he’s truly proved you wrong. Especially for a guy who doesn’t really do romance.

“So?” he says, resting his chin on his hand. “Am I killing it, or what?”

You roll your eyes. “You’ve done fine so far.”

“Fine?” He gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “I’ll have you know this is the best date anyone has ever planned in the history of dates.”

You’re gonna gag at his exaggeration.

“Relax, Jeon. You’re doing fine,” you tease, hiding your smile behind your glass of water.

Jungkook watches you for a moment, his usual cocky expression softening. “You’re really pretty, yn.”

“Trust me, Jeon. I know that.”

A sarcastic laugh leaves you at his awe struck expression. “You’re just saying that because I agreed to go out with you.”

“No, I mean it.” He leans forward, his gaze serious now. “You’re gorgeous. And smart. And funny. And I’m honestly losing my mind trying to figure out how I got this lucky.”

Your stomach flips, and for once, you don’t have a snarky comeback.

But of course, Jungkook can’t let the moment last.

“And your tits look amazing in that dress,” he adds with a wink.

You throw a breadstick at him, and he catches it, laughing so hard the entire restaurant turns to stare.

He’s never going to change and maybe a small part of your hopes that maybe he won’t ever change

•••

Back at the house, Jungkook walks you to your door like the gentleman he absolutely is not.

“So?” he asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Was I good enough for a second date?”

You smirk. “Maybe. If you promise not to mention my tits again.”

“No promises,” he says with a grin.

“Yn don’t be stupid. I’m just appreciating God’s masterpiece and you cannot stop me from doing that.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling as you shut the door in his face.

“Goodnight, yn!” Jungkook yells through the door. “I love you!”

You groan, but your heart skips a beat anyway.

You hope that tomorrow morning he will be normal, but.. most importantly you hope that your heart will behave normally.

#jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x y/n #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts angst #bts fluff #jeongguk smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk smut

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jaewritesfic · 8 months ago

Text

Everlasting Trio DP x DC Nobody Knows AU Part 9

Part 8

“Nothing? At all?”

“Nothing, Red,” Barbara's voice repeats through the speakers of the Batcomputer, sounding irritated at this point.

“But- I mean, did you try-”

“She's going to come to the cave and shove a Batarang up your ass if you ask her one more time whether she missed something, Replacement,” Jason drawls off to the side. He's reclining in a chair, feet kicked up on a weapons table.

Tim groans. “I know, I know. I'm sorry.”

He's back in the Cave, and so is pretty much everyone else. Turns out he'd caused something of a panic, and it was all hands on deck for a hot second.

When the engineer had density shifted out of his grasp and heckled him from some nebulous spot midair, it had taken only a few seconds afterwards for Tim’s comms to explode with noise.

Turns out nobody had been able to hear anything from him except a constant low static from shortly before the encounter until after it ended, and his mask camera was borked the whole time too.

Understandably, there was some alarm about that. Bruce had ordered everyone back to the cave for a full explanation and conversation on what the hell happened.

“Sit down and tell us what happened, baby bird. You're gonna wear a hole in the floor at this rate,” Dick tells him, a gentle hand on his shoulder nudging him towards a seat.

Tim groans and throws himself into it like a puppet with his strings cut.

“Well he's definitely a meta,” he grumbles. “I never actually laid eyes on him. Wouldn't have even known he was there if he hadn't gotten ghost busted.”

“Ghost busted?” Jason asks, eyebrows raised. Tim huffs out a reluctant laugh, because in retrospect that part was pretty funny.

“His fucking phone went off. All of a sudden the empty air next to me was blasting the Ghostbusters theme song and an invisible man was swearing like a sailor until it cut out.”

Stephanie blows a raspberry in the start of a laughing fit, and suddenly the whole cave is echoing with mirth. It lifts Tim's spirits a little, makes him laugh too.

He means, come on. That has to be the new record for the funniest botched stealth mission, a position previously held by Damian when a stray dog outed him because it smelled the treats he keeps in his utility belt.

The shade of red the demon brat's face was when he had to explain why the mission went sideways was fucking glorious.

“So you've confirmed that we're dealing with a male meta?”

Speaking of the brat.

“Sounded male, and he at least has invisibility and density shifting,” Tim confirms.

“Density shifting?” Bruce prompts.

“Yeah. After the phone went off I couldn't see him but I was trying to figure out where he was. Then the lockbox disappeared too - he can transfer the invisibility through touch, apparently.”

“Huh. Haven't seen that before,” Duke comments.

“Me neither. But I made an educated guess at where I thought he was and grabbed his arm. Had a damn good grip, and then he just…went through me. Like I literally felt something pass through my hand all cold and tingly and suddenly I wasn't holding anything anymore.”

Jason snorts. “Bet that was a kick in the nuts, huh.”

“Come on, Little Wing,” Dick scolds half heartedly. “Be nice.”

Jason rolls his eyes.

“You said ‘at least’,” Bruce says, brow furrowed. “You suspect he has other powers too?”

Tim purses his lips. “I can't be sure, considering I couldn't see him, but…I think he probably has flight too.”

“Flight?” Dick says, furrowing his brow. He crosses his arms and shakes his head, looking both thoughtful and troubled. “No, that's not possible.”

Tim blinks. “What? Why not?”

Dick ‘Be Nice, Little Wing’ Grayson looks him dead in the eyes and says, “Because according to all known laws of aviation-”

“You-!”

The cave is filled with laughter again, Jason throwing his head back and cackling in a way that's particularly irksome. Tim reaches over and shoves at his boots while he's tipping his chair back and sends him toppling to the floor.

Jason flails and fails to save himself, rolling back to his feet and spitting curses with a hint of green to his eyes. Tim freezes at the sight of it.

It's not that he's scared. He and Jason have come a long way, and everyone knows by now what amount of green is actually dangerous. Jason's nowhere near actually losing it right now, he's just annoyed.

What makes Tim freeze is-

“He's been exposed to the Pits.”

Everyone pauses, confused. Jason blinks at him. “Uh…yeah, fucking duh?”

“No,” Tim shakes his head. “No, not you. The Engineer.”

Suddenly there's no laughter anymore. Everyone has gone tense and alarmed.

“Tim?” Bruce prompts lowly.

“I did see part of him,” Tim murmurs lowly, realizing it himself for the first time. “When I grabbed him, there were two bright lights for a second or two before they faded. God, I should have realized- it was his eyes. Like Christmas lights, bright Lazarus green."

Masterpost

#dcxdp #tim drake #dc batfam #danny phantom #tim will never escape the bee movie prank #turns out when youre invisible #and your ptsd is triggered #you do scary eyes anyway

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wordsarelife · 7 months ago

Text

—i can fix him (no really i can)

pairing: jess mariano x fem!doose!reader

summary: jess got into another fight and you're about to clean his wounds, but he has other plans, tired of always answering your questions

warnings: kissing, making out, sexual remarks, allusions to sex

note: this was so fun to write and my first jess mariano fic, so please be gentle guys!!

“you never fail to amaze me, jess mariano“ you huffed, arms crossed as your eyes fell on the boy sitting on the curb in front of the supermarket. shadows were casted over his cheeks and he looked less than happy to see you.

"it isn't what it looks like" he muttered, trying to avert his gaze, although that was kind of hard, considering the outfit you were wearing.

your brushed your skirt to the side, before you sat down beside him. "well, it looks like you got beaten up"

"you should see the other guy" jess chuckled.

you sighed, not amused by the joke, as you softly touched his cheek.

"ow!" jess pulled his head back, trying to free it from your hands, but you were relentless, turning his chin in all possible directions to get a good look at his injuries.

"we're gonna have to clean them if you don't want them to get infected"

"i don't care about that" jess shrugged and took out a cigarette from a pocket of his jacket.

"yeah, i know tough guy". you quickly snatched the cigarette from his mouth before he was able to light it. "but i do"

"what the fuck, y/n?" jess exclaimed annoyed.

you left his words unanswered as you stood up from the cold concrete and held a hand in his direction to help him up. "come on, now. we're not dating, because i care so little about you, are we?"

jess rolled his eyes, before he followed you, of course ignoring your helping hand in the process.

you laughed at his tough act as he sent you a dark look, not finding anything about this remotely funny. he knew that this was one of your usual tactics to get him to talk. you would act understanding and worried about his injuries before he would be caught in a room alone with you, with no way to escape, having to explain every little detail about the fight.

well, tonight he decided, you were going to be caught in a room with him.

a smug smile slipped onto jess' features as he followed you up the stairs. you turned around and pushed a finger against your mouth, before you took out your keys and unlocked the door.

"grandpa is sleeping" you muttered, opening the door wide enough for jess to walk through, but not wide enough to reach the creaking sound.

jess and you had met the year before at the supermarket, where you had watched him buy a ridiculous amount of industrial glue, while he was busy watching rory and dean talk.

you had guessed that he had been doing that to bother them and while rory was a friend of yours, you had to admit that it had been a little funny.

unbeknownst to you, jess had forgotten everything about rory, once his eyes fell on you behind the counter.

"are you working on the worlds longest scrapbook or are you just very passionate about glue?"

"huh?" jess had been so stunned by what you said that he lost his usual cool demeanor and found himself at a temporary loss for words. he couldn't remember a situation in which he had not been able to reply with a witty joke.

"want me to repeat that?" you asked amused as you pulled the last bottle of glue over the scanner.

"no-uh" he shook his head "i'm jess, luke's nephew"

"oh" you smiled, a sign of recognition in your eyes "that's you!"

"and you are?" he held the ten dollar note in your direction.

you took the money, taking out his change in the process. "i'm y/n, taylor doose's—"

you were interrupted when the aforementioned man stepped next to you, a frown on his face at the sight of jess. "i'm her grandfather" he finished for you. "and you're gonna stay far away from her, you hear me, mariano?" he pressed.

"grandpa!" you scolded and jess was surprised at the sudden shame that entered taylor doose's face. it seemed like he really gave a damn about your opinion, unlike he did with anyone else in this town.

"well, i'm gonna check on miss patty and her plums" taylor excused quickly and walked away, before you could question him further.

"please don't mind him" you told jess, amusement evident on your lips "i just got back and he's been a little on edge without me here"

"where have you been?" jess asked, intrigued to hear more about the mysterious and pretty girl in front of him.

"my dad's" you replied with an uneasy smile. he recognized the expression on your face, had he always worn it himself when someone had asked him about his parents.

he decided not to stir the pot any more. "well, i'll see you around, doose" jess said, took his glue and left you standing with only a faint goodbye from your lips.

jess' hands went to squeeze your waist, as you closed the door.

you were luckily able to suppress any sound at the sudden touch and you could jess' smirk in your neck.

"very funny, mariano" you whispered, freeing yourself from his grip and turning around to let him see the annoyed expression on your face.

his eyes glistened with happiness in the dark of the hallway, before his hand went behind your back, bringing you closer to him. "why don't we go to your room?" he whispered.

you had to admit that for a short, misguided, second the sweetness of his words was not far away from undermining you.

you shook your head, snapping out of whatever had gone through your head at his tempting suggestion. "nice try" you smiled sarcastically and jess sighed, letting go of you and following behind you to the bathroom.

jess was no stranger to your rejection, especially when your grandfather was home, but he was not finished trying to (respectfully) lead you into temptation.

"there are two options how we can do this" you spoke, your voice in a normal volume as soon as jess had closed the door.

before you could explain his options, he interrupted you, the smirk now basically right in your face when you turned up the light and looked at him. "want me to lock the door?"

"no" you dragged. "you know why? because we are not doing anything forbidden"

"forbidden, huh?" jess smiled "kinda like the sound of that"

"this is not a rom-com"

"oh no" jess shook his head, wearing a faked stoic expression "of course not. just two people doing non-forbidden things in the bathroom" he shrugged.

"it sounds wrong when you say it like that"

"what does it sound like?" he stepped closer to you, ready to touch your lips with his, as his eyes fell close, but you were quicker, swerving around him, before he was able to even touch you.

"nah-ah!" you scolded.

"what?" jess turned around, now crossing his arms like you had done earlier "i'm just trying to kiss my girlfriend"

"not happening" you shrugged. "so, as i was trying to tell you before: you have two options: first, the easy one: let me fix your face and we're done in no time"

"or?" he furrowed his brows, leaning against the wall.

"or" you repeated "the hard one" jess' smile got impossibly bigger and you rolled your eyes "ew, not like you think"

"fine" he sighed. "the easy one i guess, no need to tell me about your torture method"

"it's not a torture method, but thanks for thinking so poorly of me" you muttered, before you opened the drawer under the sink, taking out the first aid kink.

you climbed on top of the counter and motioned for jess to come closer and stand in between your legs.

"well, this is kind of suggestive, don't you think?" he pinched your waist. you just shook your head, taking his hand and laying it on top of your knee instead.

"keep your hands there, mister" you directed, before you grabbed a wet cotton pad and pushed up his chin, so you could gently take the unnecessary blood off his face. "for your own good, i hope that the other started throwing punches"

"of course" jess nodded, overly dutiful, before he hissed in pain as the cotton pad touched one of the scars on his nose.

"you should've thought about that before you got into an unnecessary fight, you know?" you commented, switching out the pad, before you continued cleaning the other side of his face.

"yeah, yeah" he averted his eyes, his gaze falling onto the hem of your skirt, his fingers were laying on top of. he softly raised the fabric, pushing his hands to rest on your bare thigh.

"jess" you sighed in a warning tone.

"what? it's itchy"

"it isn't" you rolled your eyes, but didn't discuss the topic further as you threw away the pad.

you tried reaching behind you to grab one of the plasters from the first aid kit, but jess was quicker, snatching the box away from you and holding it behind his back with one hand.

"wha—"

"give me a kiss first" he prompted, smirking.

"jess" you whined, not amused at his antics.

"just one kiss, come on babe"

you reluctantly nodded. jess stepped closer, taking your chin into his hand and pulling your face closer so your lips could meet his.

his lips were warm and firm against yours, his teasing grin fading as the kiss deepened. what was meant to be a quick peck quickly turned into something more. his hand, which had been holding the first aid kit out of reach, dropped it to the floor as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

you could feel the intensity growing between you two, the playful resistance dissolving into a surge of unexpected desire.

jess' other hand moved to the small of your back, guiding you even closer as the kiss became more urgent, more consuming.

when you finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, he looked at you with a glint in his eye. "was that so hard?" he teased, his voice a little huskier than before.

"oh, shut up" you muttered, flustered and lips swollen as a cause of the intensity of the kiss. you gently shoved his face back. "now pick up the first aid kit you dropped"

"yes, ma'am"

you shook your head, laughing to yourself as you watched him reach for the box on the ground behind him. it had clattered open, revealing it's contents to the ground beneath it.

he threw everything back in the box before he picked it up and came back to the counter to stand in front of you.

you took a few plasters, opening them up to stick them to the cuts on his face. "you look cute" you commented as soon as you were finished.

"i'm not cute" jess exclaimed with a stoic expression.

"you're always cute" you shrugged, now being the one to take his chin into your hands. "especially when you tell me who you fought—"

he didn't even let you finish the sentence, before he pushed his lips against yours once more. even tough it was a clear tactic to avoid your questioning, you didn't mind it this time (not that you did before, but you had to at least act like it) pulling him closer by the neck and deepening the kiss.

jess moaned into your mouth, and your lips broke into a smile. his hands were now inching closer up your thighs and a soft laugh broke from your lips when you had to catch your breath.

"let's go to your room" jess muttered, lips skipping over your neck.

"grandpa is home" you reminded.

"grandpa is asleep" he pointed out, brows moving up and down suggestively.

"jess" you giggled, as he grabbed your waist, setting you down on the floor and taking your hand to leave the bathroom, before even waiting for an answer.

well, you weren't open to any more protests then, as he took you up to your room. the only thought in your head was to stay quiet.

opposite to the rest of the night, the next morning was straight hellfire, as neither you or jess had taken the time to set an alarm.

so taylor doose entered your room without the slightest thought and watched in horror as a half-naked jess mariano climbed out of your bedroom window and fell rather awkwardly on the ground in front of it. probably right into your grandpa's rose bushes.

"i think i might be having a heart attack"

#jess mariano x reader #jess mariano #jess mariano x doose!reader #gilmore girls #milo ventimiglia #netflix #taylor doose #gilmore girls fanfiction #gilmore girls fanfic #lizzyssummerblowout

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amourquinn · 4 months ago

Text

( short fic ) 𝐈 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔

pairing : boyfriend!quinn x fem!reader wc. 1.1k

genre : fluff warnings : small panic attack

summary : as fireworks ignite a wave of fear in you, quinn’s steady presence and comforting embrace remind you that with him, you’re safe

「 author’s note 」 this was a request from an anonymous, i hope you like it <3

the crisp evening air of vancouver carried a sense of calm, the kind that only came after a busy day when the city began to wind down, the streets lit with a soft golden glow. you and quinn had decided to visit a local event downtown, a small gathering of boutiques, street vendors, and artisan stalls. it was the kind of event that made you feel connected to the city—a reminder that beauty could be found in the little things.

the event was held along a quieter street lined with charming boutiques. you had wandered for hours, exploring the various stalls that offered everything from handmade jewelry to delicious-smelling soaps and warm drinks. you and quinn had enjoyed the evening, taking your time to browse, laugh, and chat with the vendors.

at one booth, you had spotted a beautifully knitted scarf, hanging from a wooden rack. it was a deep burgundy color, soft and inviting, with intricate patterns woven through it. your fingers had brushed against the wool, marveling at how warm it looked, and for a moment, you imagined wrapping it around your neck on a chilly winter evening.

“that’s nice, huh?” quinn said, standing beside you. his voice was soft, almost as if he were testing the waters, waiting for your response.

you nodded, smiling at the scarf. “yeah, it’s really pretty. i could use a new one for the winter.”

quinn raised an eyebrow, his gaze drifting to the price tag for a moment before he looked back at you. “you deserve something nice,” he said casually, though there was a hint of something more in his voice—something thoughtful, almost protective.

you laughed, shaking your head. “it’s a little too fancy for me,” you replied, still tracing the pattern on the scarf. “i don’t need something so expensive.”

but quinn didn’t seem to hear you. he was already digging through his wallet, his expression focused and determined. “i think it’s exactly what you need. just let me get it for you.”

before you could protest, he had already paid the vendor, who wrapped the scarf in tissue paper with a smile.

“quinn, you really didn’t have to,” you said, a warm flush creeping up your neck as he handed you the neatly wrapped package.

he shrugged, his grin never fading. “i know, but i wanted to. you deserve it.”

you opened the package slowly, revealing the soft, burgundy scarf. it felt even more luxurious in your hands, and you couldn’t help but run your fingers over the delicate knit. “it’s perfect,” you whispered, glancing up at him. his eyes were soft, watching you with a gentle look that made your heart skip a beat.

“put it on,” he encouraged, his voice warm and playful.

you smiled and draped the scarf around your neck. it felt like a hug—soft, cozy, and comforting against your skin. “it’s really warm,” you said, adjusting it so it fit just right.

quinn reached out, his hands brushing against the ends of the scarf. “it looks great on you,” he said, his eyes scanning your face with a tenderness that made you feel both seen and cared for.

you chuckled softly, your heart swelling with affection. “i guess i’ll have to wear it all the time now, huh?”

“absolutely,” he replied with a smile. “i’ll be disappointed if i don’t see it every time i see you.”

the playful tone in his voice made you laugh, but there was something else behind it—a sincerity that made your chest tighten. quinn’s gestures, whether big or small, always made you feel valued. you could see it in the way he looked at you, how he listened to you, and how he made even the simplest moments feel special.

⋆˙��

as the night continued, you and quinn wandered through the boutiques, talking about anything and everything. the scarf kept you warm, a small but constant reminder of his thoughtfulness. when you passed a vendor selling hot chocolate, quinn insisted on buying you both a cup, the warmth of the drink contrasting against the chilly air.

you were standing near the square, admiring the lights strung between the trees, when you heard a low rumble in the distance. the sound made your heart skip a beat, a familiar unease creeping into your chest.

“what’s that?” quinn asked, looking up toward the sky.

before you could answer, the first firework exploded overhead, bursting into a cascade of shimmering gold. the crowd around you gasped in delight, but all you could feel was the sharp pang of fear in your chest.

fireworks. you hated fireworks. the sudden, loud noises, the unexpected flashes of light—they had always unsettled you, stirring up a fear you couldn’t quite explain.

quinn noticed immediately. “hey, are you okay?” he asked, stepping closer to you.

you nodded quickly, though your breath was uneven, your hands clenched into fists. “i just… i don’t like fireworks,” you admitted. “they scare me.”

without hesitation, quinn stepped in front of you, shielding you from the sight of the fireworks. his hands gently rested on your shoulders as he spoke softly, his voice steady and reassuring. “it’s okay. i’ve got you. look at me.”

you tried to focus on him, his familiar face grounding you amidst the chaos. another firework burst overhead, the loud crack echoing through the square, and you flinched. quinn immediately pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you.

“i’m right here,” he murmured, his voice close to your ear. “you’re safe. just focus on me.”

you buried your face in his chest, his warmth and the steady rhythm of his breathing helping to calm the storm inside you. he rubbed small circles on your back, his touch soothing, his presence a constant reminder that you weren’t alone.

“it’s just noise,” he whispered. “it can’t hurt you. i won’t let anything hurt you.”

gradually, the tension in your body began to ease. the fireworks continued, but they felt distant now, their sharpness dulled by the comfort of quinn’s embrace. he stayed with you until the last firework faded, holding you like you were the most important thing in the world.

when the square quieted, you finally looked up at him. “thank you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion.

quinn smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “you don’t have to thank me. i’ll always be here for you.”

and as he led you away from the square, his hand firmly holding yours, it was a reminder of his care, his unwavering presence, and the quiet strength he always gave you when you needed it most.

#[ 📁 ] short fic #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fluff #nhl hockey #vancouver canucks

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bcystar · 14 days ago

Text

— STAY FOR BREAKFAST

You enjoy his company for a bit longer

pairing: Joaquín x fem!reader

pt.2 here

wc: 1.4k

warning: mentions of alcohol, watching people while they sleep (?), reader is wearing a skirt and a baby tee of some sort.

authors note: I literally JUST finished this fic like ten minutes ago after holding off on it for like two months…she’s here now so yay! I’ve read all the new Joaquín fics so that really gave me a motivation to finish this…BUT honestly if yall want (if YALL want) I have an idea for a part two so if you’d like more then please comment so!!

The sound of banter fills your ears as Sam and Bucky start with their quips once more. You and Joaquín sat next to each other giggling at their antics, the alcohol in your blood streams amplifying the humor. You slowly start to calm your breath once more but one quick glance at Joaquín and you start to giggle again.

“I’m just saying, it’s kind of stupid that you always rip your sleeve off! What if someone asks to borrow your jacket one day? What you’re just gonna let them walk around with their bare left arm out?”

“It’s more practical! I can move it better without the sleeve!”

“What kind of clothes do you wear that makes it uncomfortable for you to move your arm!”

“There are some you know.”

“What you buy clothes made out of latex or something?”

You keep laughing.

“What do you guys think? Is it stupid or not?” Sam asks you and Joaquín.

“Uh…I mean I don’t think it’s stupid but it is kinda silly you know. Imagine you get into a fight on a mundane day and you go; “Hold up guys my sleeve is on too tight!” You reply, sipping your beer after letting out an airy chuckle after doing so.

“Whatever.” Bucky say rolling his eyes and taking a sip from his beer.

“C’mon man we’re just messing with you! We love you no matter the amount of sleeves you’ve got! Ain’t that right guys?”

“Yeah!” You and Joaquín reply simultaneously.

“Uh huh.” Bucky says while finishing his drink.

“Aw don’t be grumpy, Buck. What if I brought the next round? Hm?” You say poking him lightly.

“Nah I have to leave, it’s getting late.” Bucky replied getting up.

“Sam?”

“Ah I have to go too, early mission tomorrow.” Sam said, getting up and leaving with Bucky.

“Guess it’s just us now, Joaquín.” You smiled clinking your beer bottles together.

“Guess so.” He replied giving you a bright smile.

You both then moved to the bar after finishing your drinks quickly to make space for other guests entering as the night deepened. You and Joaquín spent the rest of the night talking and drinking without a care in the world. Except you drank a few drinks too many so now drunk you was rambling on and on to barely tipsy Joaquín about anything and everything.

“No that theory is so stupid! There’s no way Steve Rogers would ever actually leave his best friends. And for what? To time travel and live a whole different life with an already married woman? While knowing bad things are happening? Pfff he’s totally like watching over us from the Moon!” You blather.

“Conspiracy theories, especially about our friends’ friend, is our sign to leave. C’mon, Angel.” Joaquín slightly jokes while closing out your guys’ tab.

He takes your hand in his and makes it rest on his shoulder as he grabs your waist. He guides you out of the somewhat busy bar, dodging the drunk men and dancing women and pushes the door out of the bar open and the chilly air immediately flys against your skin. The cold doesn’t affect you much with the alcohol still freshly in your stream, but, it does seem to affect Joaquín. You hear him suck a sharp breath in and feel him shiver slightly against you. Still, disregarding his discomfort in the cold, he takes is jacket off and puts it over your shoulders.

“Mm don’t need to give it to me Joaquín. You clearly need it more than me.” You slur out while taking it off your shoulders.

“You’re in a skirt and oddly tiny shirt, how are you not cold?” He says while opening the passenger side door for you.

“Alcohol tends to keep you warm.” You mumble out before Joaquín chuckles and closes the door.

He finally sits in the driver seat and starts the engine, he waits a beat for the car to heat up a bit more before typing in your address to the gps and backing out of the parking lot.

The drive back to your house is quiet, the only source of sound being your snores hanging in the air and Joaquin’s hums. Joaquín hums to himself out of habit and turns his head to look at you at a red light. Your hair is a bit array with loose strands covering your face, your lips parted with your drunk snores escaping them, and your head leaning back on the area where the head rests base lays. He chuckles at himself when he sees the sight beside him, finding you absolutely endearing, he only gets pulled out of the trance you pulled him into when the light changes to a blinding green before him.

He accelerated carefully, hoping to not interrupt your sleep not realizing he was already almost in your neighborhood. The gps lets him know that he’d arrived at his destination as he drove closer and closer to your house. He pulls into your driveway and sits there for a moment, finally fully taking your beauty in, with no interruptions. At that moment he’d realized, you weren’t wearing a single ounce of makeup. Your face looked bare, the same face he’d spar with in the evenings, the same face he’d plan missions with late at night, and the same face he was absolutely in love with. He’d had feelings for you since the day Bucky’d introduced you as a new recruit to him and Sam. You were so charismatic and charming and so incredibly funny that he couldn’t help but fall for you. Ever since, he just let his crush on you simmer, scared of scaring you away with his feelings and ruining your friendship

He reluctantly teared his gaze off of you and got out of his car and made his way over to your front door. He got out your extra key from underneath your porch swing cushion and opened your front door. He then makes his way back to the car and picks you up bridal style, slamming the car door closed with his hip. He carries you through your door, into your house, and makes his way up to your room. He’d came over a few times, for game nights and mission debriefs alike, and you’d given him a house tour at some point.

He opened up your bedroom door, greeted with clothes leaking out of your closet (from changing your outfit so much). He grinned seeing the sight of it, slightly endearing him. It all felt so domestic. He imagined what it’d be like, watching you do your makeup, cuddling during the cold nights like this, cooking together, being domestic with him. Only when you let out anther soft snore is when he stops staring. He sits you up on your bed gently, waking you up.

“Where are we?” You mumble groggily.

“Back at your place, Angel.”

“Mmm” Is all you force out while hugging his waist, the side of your face pressing against his abs.

“Why don’t you change and drink some water hmm? That’ll make you feel better.”

At his words you remove your arms from around him and get up slowly. You stumble on your feet a little, alcohol still kicking in your system. Joaquín catches you as you stumble, his hands falling to your waist out of instinct.

“Woah whatcha tryna do there.” He says, still holding you.

“Getting my pjs dummy.”

“Okay sit down…” he guides you back down on the bed “now where are your pjs…?” He looks around the room.

“Top of the dresser.”

He steps over and picks up the silly yellow and white striped sleep shorts and shirt atop your dresser. He looks over at you as your eyes struggle to stay open, feeling like there’s weights attached to them. “Here, I’ll get you some water and pain killers.” All you can do is nod lazily.

By the time he’s back with what you need, you’re knocked out in bed. He can hear the same snores you let out in the car resume but somehow, you look much more beautiful now. He softly walks over to your bedside table and rests the Advil and water bottle on it. He analyzes your chest moving up and down so calmly and he feels another smile creep up his face.

“Goodnight, Angel.” He presses a soft kiss on your temple. As he’s rising back up, he feels a force holding him in place.

“Stay for breakfast.” Is all you let out, your eyes still closed.

If you ask so politely, how can he deny you?

#marvel #captain america #avengers #joaquin torres #danny ramirez #fanfiction #fanfic #joaquin torres x reader #writing prompt #mcu #joaquin torres x you

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yvesssssssss · 1 month ago

Note

Hi~ *cough**cough* do you open request? Could you write sickfic where Sakamoto days boys pamper reader that fell sick? I'm catching a cold currently and need some fluff fic🤒😷if it's too much then I'll just ask for nagumo

Sick Days with the Boys

Hope you feel better soon! Get plenty of rest and take care!

Nagumo Yoichi

Nagumo dramatically gasps when he sees you curled up under layers of blankets, sniffling. "Oh no, my beloved has fallen in battle… to a common cold." He places a hand over his heart like he’s truly in mourning.

"Yoichi, shut up," you mumble, voice hoarse.

But instead of teasing further, he leans down and presses the back of his hand against your forehead, his usual playful smirk replaced with something softer. "You're burning up," he murmurs. "Don't worry, babe. The world's greatest assassin is also the world's greatest nurse."

…Which explains why he disappears for twenty minutes and then returns wearing a ridiculous nurse’s outfit. "What the hell are you wearing?"

Nagumo grins. "A uniform is key to getting into character!" He twirls a spoonful of steaming soup in front of your face. "Now, open up, sweetheart. Say 'ahh'~"

Despite your glare, you let him feed you. He’s surprisingly gentle about it, blowing on the soup to cool it down before pressing it to your lips. "Good patient," he praises, tucking the blankets around you snugly. Then, without warning, he flops beside you.

"You'll get sick, idiot," you grumble.

"Then we'll be sick together. Romantic, right?"

You groan, but when he pulls you close, warm and solid against your aching body, you can’t bring yourself to push him away.

Shin Asakura

Shin nearly has a heart attack when he hears your thoughts before even seeing you. Ugh… I feel like I’m dying…

He kicks open your door like a SWAT team member, eyes wide with panic. "Who’s dying?! What happened?!"

You peek out from under your blanket pile, looking like a pathetic, sniffling mess. "…Me."

His whole body deflates with relief, but then his worry kicks back in. "You should’ve told me you weren’t feeling well!" He rushes to your bedside, hands awkwardly hovering like he wants to help but isn’t sure how.

"Stay still, I’ll—wait, do you need medicine? Food? Water? Do you want me to read your mind so you don’t have to talk?"

You sigh. "Shin, just lie down with me."

He stiffens. "But you'll get me sick—"

"Please?" You blink up at him, miserable and exhausted.

Shin groans but immediately kicks off his shoes and climbs into bed beside you, wrapping you up in a careful but firm hug. "Fine, but if I get sick, you're nursing me back to health," he mumbles against your hair.

You hum in contentment, already drifting off. "Deal."

Natsuki Seba

Natsuki walks in, sees you half-dead in bed, and immediately goes, "Damn, that sucks. Anyway—"

"Natsuki."

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright, alright. I’ll take care of you."

You watch as he fumbles around the kitchen, somehow making tea and getting medicine without burning anything down. When he returns, he nudges you until you sit up, handing you a warm cup. "Drink. It’s not poisoned, I promise."

You raise an eyebrow. "…Was that a possibility?"

He shrugs. "Not saying yes, not saying no."

Despite his usual deadpan attitude, he sticks around, flipping through his phone while you sip your tea. At some point, he starts running his fingers through your hair absentmindedly, and when you sigh in relief, he pauses.

Then he keeps going.

"You’re weirdly good at this," you mumble.

"Yeah, yeah. Don’t get used to it," he grumbles, but his fingers never stop moving.

Gaku

Gaku stares at you like you’ve personally betrayed him. "How’d ya let a little cold take you out?"

"Ask my immune system," you deadpan.

Gaku huffs, crossing his arms. "Guess I gotta take care of ya, huh? Fine, but only ‘cause you look pathetic."

He disappears and comes back with an absurd amount of food—snacks, soup, even a ridiculous-looking fruit platter. "Eat," he commands, sitting next to you.

You take a bite and glance at him. "Aren’t you worried about getting sick?"

He scoffs. "Please. My immune system is built different."

Thirty-six hours later, he’s sneezing his lungs out next to you.

"You definitely got me sick," he groans.

You pat his head. "Guess it's my turn to take care of you."

"...Yeah, yeah. Just don’t tell anyone I went down this easy."

#sakadays #sakamoto days x reader #sakamoto days #nagumo yoichi #nagumo x reader #nagumo yoichi x reader #shin asakura #natsuki seba #sakamoto days nagumo #sakamoto days gaku #gaku x reader #gaku #shin asakura x reader #sakamoto days shin #shin x reader #sakamoto days natsuki seba #natsuki seba x reader

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handlemehyuck · 1 month ago

Text

・❥・ suggestive

thinking about a serene scene: coming home after a long day to find boyfriend jaemin not only in your apartment but in your kitchen, making your favorite dish, looking sexy as hell in front of the stove with a towel over his shoulder, and the slightest furrow between his brows, reflecting concentration. the music is loud, spilling from the kitchen, through the hallway and into your living room. you admire him from the entryway, peeking around the corner and hoping you’ll give him a little scare because the giggles it would bubble up in you are so needed after the day you had.

two more songs play and end, and you’re starting to deflate. you almost step out fully, exposing your pencil skirt, untucked blouse and a look of disappointment, but— “did you really think i wouldn’t hear you come in? swear i was going to play along, but i miss you. come over here, angel. long day, huh?” the texts jaemin received during your lunch break worried him, sent him right to the grocery store.

you shuffle across the tile and press yourself into his side. a strong arm loops around your waist, giving you a little squeeze. you moan against his torso, pulling an amused laugh from your boyfriend. “oh yeah? anything else you want to say?” you shake your head and he coos. “change into something cozy, angel. i should be done by then. hungry?” you pull away, nod and melt beneath his gaze, exhaling slowly through your nose as he kisses you. jaemin sets the cooking utensil down and turns to face you completely. his thumb caresses your cheek; your fingers find his hair—soft and free from product residue. he’s cornered you beside the fridge, and you’d let him do whatever he wanted to in this moment if it meant clearing your head and reconnecting with the man you’re completely in love with. you miss him when he’s not around. sometimes you leave for work wearing his cologne instead of your perfume. you don’t doubt he knows this love is all consuming. he proves it, dropping kisses all of your face like little promises to love you forever.

“i’m too tired to go change.” you lay your head on his shoulder and tighten your grip around his neck.

“hmm, i guess there’s only one option then…” and he scoops you up, running through the apartment and into your bedroom. “jaemin!” you squeal as he tosses you onto the plush mattress and moves to hover above you, but you’re needy for his body’s weight. “wait here, princess. let me turn the burner off.” he looks down and admires the silk of your blouse, the undone buttons exposing your chest’s swell, the softness of your top’s shade—he loves it when you wear baby blue. “undress and decide if you want me to help you change into something comfier or unravel that knot of stress instead.” his teeth barely graze your collarbone before he’s pulling away. jaemin gives your hip a pat and disappears through the doorway.

for a moment, all you can do is stare at the ceiling and smile. in minutes, jaemin turns your day around, and all the sticky feelings you should’ve left at your cubicle float away, losing their weight and irritation. all you can think about is the man in your kitchen. the man who’s about to come back and find you ready for one of two very different situations, but regardless of your choice, he’ll be ecstatic either way.

#jaemin blurbs #jaemin imagines #jaemin fluff #jaemin reactions #jaemin scenarios #jaemin comfort #jaemin x reader #jaemin x you #nct blurbs #nct imagines

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stevieschrodinger · 6 months ago

Text

Part One TwentySeven

Chrissy has her hands over her mouth. Her eyes are wide and suspiciously wet looking, and Steve cannot read her expression at all, “you let him eat your toes?” She mumbles through her fingers.

“Yeah,” and Steve’s geared up to...something. Defend himself maybe? Defend Eddie? He doesn’t know, but she cuts him off anyway.

“I think that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” she sighs.

“It...is?”

“Steve, you literally sacrificed a part of yourself to save your one true love,” Chrissy sighs again, one hand supporting her chin now as she stares at them, “Jason wouldn’t even miss a TV football game,” she frowns.

“Steaming turd,” Eddie say solemnly, and then they share a look, and both of them start laughing.

Steve looks between them, frowning, “yeah, well-”

“Oh! Is that why he won’t let me do anything with his hair?”

“I-” Steve starts, then stalls, “what?”

“Well, in school your hair was like...ninety percent of your personality-”

“What-?”

“And, genetically, this makes Eddie part you, right?”

Steve frowns, that thought had never actually occurred to him, “I...guess?”

“And he really doesn’t like being different-” Chrissy gestures vaguely.

“Not different,” Eddie scowls, “little different,” he then immediately concedes.

“I know, I don’t mean it in a bad way honey, you know that right? You’re really cool different, really good different,” Chrissy reassures Eddie immediately, “but in school, Steve’s one job was like...being king of fitting in. Fitting in and having good hair was like, all he had-”

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” she shrugs, “kind of true though. And now Eddie like, has a big thing about both of those things so do you think he like, inherited them from you?”

“No!” Steve crosses his arms, “no I do not think that at all.” Except, now that she’s said it, Steve’s kind of thinking it a little bit. “He just wants to fit in, that’s to be expected considering what he’s been through, don’t you think? Plus, when he came out of the pool all his hair was gone so it’s totally understandable-”

There’s a knocking on the front door, but Steve hears it open before he can get up and Joyce calls, “hello,” through the house. Hopper follows her into the lounge, “we thought better to bring my car than Hoppers truck in case someone is watching,” she shrugs, “don’t want to spook them if they think the laws involved,” she tells them in a conspiratorial whisper.

Hopper rolls his eyes, “she thinks she’s Jessica Fletcher. Kid, you got any beers?”

Steve says, “in the fridge,” at the same time as Eddie says, “no.”

Hopper goes and helps himself, and next to Steve, Eddie grumbles under his breath.

Steve nudges him, “Hopper’s helping us, and we can always get more beer. You only ever drink one at a time anyway.”

Eddie nods, but looks grumpy about it, making Chrissy giggle.

“So, new kid, you all caught up?” Hopper comes back in, bottle in hand.

“There’s an alternate dimension filled with monsters you can reach by opening gates, that’s where Will Byers went missing – that’s your son?” Joyce nods, “but he’s fine now?” Joyce nods again, “okay, good. And your daughter is from a secret government science experiment that was hidden in Hawkins, and she can move stuff with her mind. Eddie is from the upside down and used to be a mermaid.”

Hopper sighs, “close enough, now, what can you tell me about this guy?”

“Uhm...well, he was white. An older guy? Maybe in his sixties, so grey hair?”

“That really narrows it down for me kid.”

Joyce elbows him, “Hop.”

“Did he have an accent?” Steve asks, “like, a Russian accent?”

“Oh, oh no not at all. He was American.”

“Huh.”

“He...all the time wear a shirt, most time a tie and...sometimes…” Eddie mimes doing buttons up the front.

“A coat?”

“No, not coat. Make like Christmas sweater.”

“Oh, a cardigan.”

Eddie nods, “yes.”

Hopper sighs, “an old white guy in a cardigan. How hard could it be,” Joyce elbows him again, “woman!”

“Well...wouldn’t it be safer for Eddie to go away for a little bit?” Joyce suggests.

“No,” Eddie says, frowning and grabbing on to Steve’s elbow, “not the cabin.”

“Oh...oh no honey. I meant further than that, and with Steve. Like a...like a little holiday.”

“Yeah, I don’t want Steve coming back and forth to the cabin, this guy could easily be looking El too,” Hopper adds.

“So where do you-” the front door crashes open, interrupting Steve.

Robin stumbles into the lounge, pink, sweaty, and gasping for breath, “I got here. As fast. As I. Could.”

“Jesus Birdie, did you just ride your bike the whole way here?”

“Yeah,” she caves in, bending to rest her hands on her knees, chest heaving.

Eddie nods, eyeing the state of Robin, “bikes are dangerous,” he points out sagely.

Steve shakes his head, watching as Robin regains her composure enough to share a quick smile with Chrissy. They do an awkward little finger wave at each other across the four feet of lounge they’re separated by. Steve’s going to have to grill her at some point.

“How did you even know?” Steve asks her.

“Oh, well El was there when you called Hopper, and she walkied Max-”

“Right. Right. Never mind I get it,” Steve stops her before she relays the entire chain of events.

Robin slides onto the couch, a very proper foot of space between her and Chrissy. Steve raises an eyebrow. Well? Robin glares at him. Fuck off.

“How about Ray’s place?” Joyce asks.

“Yeah, yeah,” Hopper agrees, like he was already considering it, “I’ll go call him.”

Hopper shuffles into the hall, “fishing Buddy,” Joyce elaborates, “Hopper uses his cabin all the time, it’s right on a lake.”

“It is not ‘all the time’,” Hopper grumbles from out in the hall.

“Feels like it,” Joyce whispers.

“You going into hiding?” Robin asks, excited.

“Yeah...I mean...maybe?” Steve hedges.

“On holiday,” Eddie adds, before frowning, “Chrissy? Can I have holiday? From work?”

Chrissy snorts a laugh, but then very seriously adds, “I think under the circumstances I can excuse the short notice.”

“I could help!” Robin starts eagerly, before she dials down her excitement, “I mean. I could help out, with the flowers, as long as I’m not at Family Video. Oh! Maybe the guy will come in and-!”

“And you could nothing,” Steve tells her, “Robs, seriously, leave it to Hopper, please?”

“Fine,” Robin grumbles.

“I’ll be really glad of your help though,” Chrissy smiles at her, which seems to perk Robin right back up again.

“Oh shit.” Steve sighs, “Keith.”

“Well, you know that elderly aunt you’re really close to? She was super sick over Christmas and you had to help her out?”

“Sure..?” Steve answers vaguely.

“I think she finally just died,” Robin grins.

“Great.”

Eddie has his nose practically pressed to the window glass, “cows!”

“Yeah,” Steve smiles, “yep. Real life cows.”

“Different colors?”

“Yeah, you get chocolate milk from the brown ones.”

Eddie’s head snaps round so fast Steve’s surprised he didn’t hear his neck crack, “really?? The cows in my book are black and white.”

“Yeap, black and white ones make regular milk,” and Steve almost, almost pulls it off, but Eddie starts to frown as he thinks about it, and Steve can’t hide his smile any more.

“Lie,” Eddie says, grinning happily before he goes back to looking out of the window, “funny lie Stevie.”

The town is pretty much exactly as Hopper described; a little touristy, a little kitschy. Bigger than Hawkins. There’s a good will and a record store, and Hopper said that there’s a library in town somewhere. They drive past a busy looking diner and a fair sized grocery store. The gas station is exactly where Hopper said it would be.

It’s busy enough, but clearly filled with a lot of visitors; there’s three outdoor supply stores pretty much on the same block, which figures considering what Hopper said about people passing through, visiting the lakes or going hiking. There’s one store that seems to cater exclusively to merchandise for tourists if the rack of hats and shirts outside is anything to go by.

Once out the far side of town, Steve figures then they’ve driven the mile and a half Hopper directed before finding the turning, and then another mile later finding the over grown, rutted drive that leads up to the cabin. It’s real quiet, the road clearly not used often, and there’s plenty of ‘Private Road – No Entry’ signs at the turning of the lane.

The cabin is nestled amongst the trees, a long, squat thing with a shingled roof and peeling white window frames. There’s a screen door set in the middle and not much else to look at on this side. Steve can already see the little lean too built on the end though, just poking out; it has it’s own vents and chimney and houses the generator. There’s another, open sided shelter next to that, stacked with firewood. Steve figures they won’t need to light the fire much, unless it gets chilly in the evenings. It might, he figures, this close to the water.

Eddie hops out immediately, heading to the cabin and opening the squeaky screen door before letting himself in with the key Hopper gave them.

‘Keep the cans for the generator topped up, if you use anything from the pantry replace it, and for the love of god take your own bedding and towels. Trust me. There’s a coffee can on top of the fridge, I usually shove a few dollars in there as a thank you, oh, and you'll have to go into town if you need to do laundry.’ They were pretty much the only other instructions Hopper had given, but so far everything seems to be exactly as Hopper said it would be.

Steve’s gathering things from the car when Eddie comes back out again to help, ��hows the inside?”

Eddie wrinkles his nose, “dusty.”

“Well...we can soon fix that.”

They get unpacked. Eddie dusts and packs things away while Steve tops off the generator and gets it started. He puts the now empty gas can in the trunk, ready for when they go into town. He goes inside the check the fridge is running, then raids the pantry. Some of the cans in there don’t even have labels on, a few even rusting a little, and Steve doesn’t really feel like pot luck or food poisoning for dinner, “want to get groceries?”

“Yeah. I can’t find the vacuum.”

“Oh…” Steve comes and looks, checking in all the likely places, before he finds a little rotary carpet sweeper, showing Eddie how to use it.

Eddie does the whole cabin in less than ten minutes, carefully knocking the dust outside after, “trash bags?” he asks on his way past, and Steve adds them to the grocery list.

The cabin is comfortable inside, if a little lived in. All the furniture looks, at the very least, older than Steve.

Some of it might give Hopper a run for his money.

But, yeah, it’s a tidy little space, and the couch in front of the fire is nice. “Listen later?” Eddie asks when he dusts off the record collection.

“Sure, ready to go now? The fridge should be cold enough by the time we get back.”

Eddie nods, retrieving his jar of cash and shoving some in his wallet, “ready.”

They squeeze into the phone box together; there’s no phone line at the cabin, and Hopper did warn them about that.

Eddie huddles close, Steve holding the receiver so they can both hear it ring, loose change in his pocket at the ready. Steve speaks to Robin’s mother very briefly, and then Robin and Chrissy are both on the line. Steve can imagine it in his head, cord stretched at it’s max to reach inside the door of Robins room, both of them standing close so they can hear, the same as Steve as Eddie are now.

“What’s it like?” Chrissy asks.

“Nice,” Eddie tells her, “I cleaned the dust.”

“Good job, and is the lake pretty?”

“Yeah. Lots of trees.”

“Steve,” Robin cuts across, “is it like, actually alright?”

“Yeah,” Steve reassures her, “it’s pretty good actually, the couch is comfy and the dock looks nice. Generator started up fine. We’ll be okay. Just gonna’ go get some groceries and settle in for the night. Eddie found a record player and there’s a bunch of movies.”

“Library?” Eddie asks.

“Sure, we can find that tomorrow maybe.”

The last thing they did as they were leaving Hawkins was to return Eddie’s books, he was worried they would overrun if they were gone too long.

They wrap up their short check in, the girls promising to let everyone else they arrived fine. Steve also makes Robin promise not to do anything stupid, which, she does promise, but Steve is absolutely certain she has her fingers crossed as she says it.

They carry a bag each into the cabin, Eddie immediately opening the fridge and declaring it cold inside. The groceries get unpacked, and Steve finishes unpacking and making up the bed while Eddie unpacks his pencils and notebooks.

With that done, Steve makes them both coffee, “come on, lets go and look at the lake.”

Hopper warned them there was no outdoor furniture and he always brings his own folding chair, but Steve and Eddie are content to sit on the planks of the short dock and watch the water, “the sun set is so pretty.” And it is, dusky oranges and pinks reflected on the water, the sky going dark at the edges.

It’s kind of romantic, sitting here. There’s just the very quiet lap of the water to listen to, the occasional soft sound of the breeze through the trees. It’s...quiet. Soothing. Steve lets go of the breath he’s been half holding since Chrissy and Eddie piled through the front door yesterday afternoon. There’s no mystery old dude here. Whoever is looking for Eddie, he won’t have a clue where they’ve gone.

Eddie’s safe again, right now. Steve’s fairly confident Hopper will find the guy, Hawkins isn’t that big, and if he’s brazen enough to outright be asking questions about Starcourt, surely he will be easy enough to turn up.

Steve hopes so, anyway.

They’ve finished their coffees, the sun slowly setting. The temperature has dropped a little, while they’ve been sitting watching the colors on the water, and Eddie snuggles into Steve’s side, resting his head on Steve’s shoulder, absently dragging his nails lightly on the material of Steve’s jeans.

He’s always fiddling with something, Steve thinks vaguely. He wonders absently if it’s just because everything is still so new, Eddie always chasing sensations. Steve can't blame him for wanting to try things, for wanting to try everything.

“Dark here, at night?” Eddie asks, shaking Steve from his thoughts.

“Yeah. Really dark I think. No lights from other houses or street lights or anything.”

Eddie hums, “see the stars?”

“Oh...oh yeah, they’re going to be super bright here. You...I don’t suppose you ever saw them, in the Upside Down?”

“No...first time here,” Eddie lifts a hand, flashing his fingers open and closed at the sky, “many pretty.”

It’s not fair of Steve to deny Eddie anything, especially not because of his own hang ups. And he promised himself he would be better about all this.

And it is romantic, sitting here on the deck, the sun just a hint of light on the horizon now, mostly hidden by the forest.

Eddie hugs his mug to his chest, perking up when the breeze rustles the trees, louder now, “the trees are different.”

Steve looks around, “yeah, I guess. They’re...older than at home. Wild. Kind of.” They are closer together, and a lot bigger than the ones at home. It highlights that the trees at the bottom of the yard were probably carefully curated and deliberately planted at some point. Comparatively the trees here are...huge. Much more established.

A bird screeches, and Eddie startles, leaning more firmly into Steve’s side. Steve puts an arm around him. “Called?”

“Oh...it was just a bird. Probably different to the kind we get at home, that’s all. You want to go in and listen to a record?” Eddie nods, “and maybe...we could try me giving you a blowjob?”

Part TwentyNine

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #ficlet #ao3 author #upside down creature eddie #Fish Guy Eddie #creature eddie munson #creature #robin buckly #chrissy cunningham #buckingham

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monkebearness · 1 month ago

Text

Rereading the Mixed Messages

Kamimoto Kotone (tripleS) x Male Reader

Tags: fluff, angst, friends-to-lovers, alcohol

Word count: 11.9k

a/n: hello, it's me again. this post was supposed to be a smut with a different story and characters, but 'cause it was a special someone's birthday (five days ago), I chose to write this instead. anyways, if you like fluffs, I hope you enjoy this one.

A woman wearing a backpack has been waiting in a hallway right outside the comfort room. She saw her friend rushing towards him, while on her right hand, the handout brochure she received eleven minutes ago wrinkled more and more, thanks to her tightening grip.

“Tone-yah!” the man shouted with relief. “There you are, thank goodness.”

“Junghoon-ah!” she called him, hurrying and somewhat in her voice, especially as she saw him already sweating. “Where the heck have you been? I thought we’d meet here.”

“I’m sorry for taking you so long. I, uhh, I just asked someone to be our guide,” he pointed to the direction beside him with his thumb.

“You just went to someone?” Concern started to radiate from her voice.

“Yeah, and I think he’s a senior who can help us out.”

“You think?” her eyebrow automatically raised slightly, as with her cadence.

“I guess… “ he surmised. “He definitely looks like a sunbae. He’s wearing a gwajam.”

“You should've just waited for me. I was in the restroom for like only five minutes, before you went all Seoul searching on our own campus like some tourist.”

“Well, I panicked, arasseo?” he raised his hands in defense. “I just found him along with a bunch of other students, but he’s the one who stepped up… And besides, he’s willing to assist us. So whatever the case may be, he may know a lot more stuff than we do.”

“You didn’t have to bring anyone, Junghoon!” she couldn’t stop herself from freaking out. “We could’ve toured the campus by ourselves and everything would've been just fine. It’s not like we’re already late or anything… Isn’t that why we went here early?”

“Calm down. But yeah, that’s… A good point,” he scratched his head. “But maybe we should hear him out first. Give him a chance first… We gotta respect our seniors.”

A groan left her mouth, just as a tall man in his university jacket approached them with a welcoming beam. Kotone watched Junghoon as he bowed to him in sight, prompting her to follow his gesture, but with less enthusiasm and more caution towards the older student.

“Annyeonghasimnikka!” he greeted them with his hoarse yet cheerful voice. “I’m Kim Myungsoo.” He turned to Junghoon for a second. “You told me you have a little trouble navigating around campus.” His eyes then met Kotone’s. “So I assumed that both of you are freshmen.”

“Ne,” Junghoon politely answered him. “I kinda also assumed you were a senior, but I am really sorry if I got the wrong impression.”

“I’m actually a sophomore, but don’t worry, ‘cause I’m actually flattered.” he chortled at his own nonchalant response. “And of course, I’d be more than happy to help you… It is orientation day, after all... But, do you mind me asking what your names are?”

“I’m Geum Junghoon,” he bows, before turning to the woman. “And my friend here is…”

In her eyes, his face looks like he’s a model or a young actor who played either a main or supporting role in a romcom college drama. That might have been too specific, but that’s just how Kotone thought about him that morning. Watching romcoms in her spare time was an undeniable factor to that mentality. She didn’t know whether to be enticed or intimidated—or both—by his striking looks, towering stature, and courteous approach. But she might have been staring at her for too long. She should be saying something to him now. She should’ve because they’re now looking at her.

“Koton—” she hesitates at first, making the senior and her friend lean their head to the side while the former lets out a low, huh? Correcting her error within milliseconds due to internal panic, she clears her throat. “Mianhaeyo. My name is Kamimoto Kotone.”

“Oh! You must be Japanese then?” Myungsoo guessed, almost with a higher pitch, something that fascinated the woman because of his reaction. “An exchange student?”

“No. I'm just living here with my relatives,” she corrected him, before following up with, “But you are right about the first one. I was born and raised in Japan.”

“Ah… It’s nice meeting you, Junghoon and Kotone,” he bowed down to them. “First things first, welcome to Seoul State University.”

“Kamsahamnida, sunbaenim,” Junghoon professed as he bowed back, compelled by his habit of being respectful towards him. Too respectful, as Kotone would think, even though she herself bowed much lower this time.

“Oh, that's fine. It's my pleasure to help out more of our Seoulmates, you know?”

Suddenly, Kotone laughed through her nose.

“So, now… On more pressing matters, what are you guys majoring in?”

“Tone’s from the College of Education,” Junghoon answered. “I’m from Tourism and Hotel Management.”

“I'm also from Education!” Myungsoo applauded his answer. “Seems like we already have something in common then, Kotone-ssi. Plus Junghoon’s building is only right next to ours, so that'll be convenient for both of you.”

Junghoon nudged her left shoulder with a smirk. “You still regretting my decision? You've got yourself a new friend!” he mumbled while they followed his trail.

She scoffed at his retort. “Fair enough. He's fine… You did good.”

“And Junghoon,” the upperclassman turned to them. “I’ve actually met someone from your department. His name’s Lim Honggi. Does the name sound familiar to…”

As the two had a conversation, Kotone’s attention towards Myungsoo grew from the moment forward. After several minutes of strolling around the nearby locations, they arrived right in front of the building of Junghoon’s department. It was like Tone was a protective noona sending off a younger sibling to go on his own (they're the same age), even though Junghoon insisted that they go ahead, right after bowing to Myungsoo out of gratitude.

“Do you mind if I take you there as well?”

Such a question struck Kotone with panic, but not enough to trigger a fight-or-flight response. Instead, it let her own guard down. “Oh… Uhh… You don’t have to do that, sunbaenim… Don’t you have a class to catch up to?”

“In about thirty minutes, yeah… But we’re heading to the same building anyway,” he pointed out. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, right!” she exclaimed out of the sudden, slowly pursing her own lips out of embarrassment.

“Unless you’re uncomfortable, then I can just leave you alone. I’m sure you know your way to your room. It’s just that—”

“No!” she exclaimed again, even though she knew he was right. “I still have half an hour before our first class, so it’s fine, really.”

That was the start of their something.

“Myungsoo-yah!” Someone calls him with a teasing tone as he approaches them. “There you are! The council told me you were busy briefing freshies… Speaking of which.”

“Yeah… They were right,” Myungsoo quipped.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’ll be on my way—”

“It’s okay, sunbaenim,” Kotone assured both of them.

“This is Park Yeonghwan,” Myungsoo proceeded with the introductions. “My classmate and friend. This is Kotone. She’s a freshie.”

“Annyeonghaseyo,” Kotone bowed to him. “It’s nice meeting you, sunbaenim.”

His mouth opened, as if he had heard a spell leave her mouth. “Kotone? Are you—”

“Yes, she is Japanese,” Myungsoo stopped him, right as Kotone was about to open her mouth. “You get the point, dude… She must be tired hearing that from everyone else.”

“Gwenchanayo, sunbae,” Kotone stepped in. “But, he’s right. About the Japanese part.”

Yeonghwan chuckled at his interjection, but Kotone herself felt a tug at her heartstrings. “She said it’s fine. Don’t be too defensive, hyung.”

“Hyung?” she tilted her head. “Wait, I thought both of you are sophomores.”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Yeonghwan confessed. “He’s a year older than me.”

Within seconds, she did some mental math for an educated guess. “So that makes you, like, twenty years old?”

He didn’t answer her directly. “I hope that doesn’t make you more uncomfortable.”

A few realizations crossed her mind. Seeing someone was the last thing she wanted right now. There was more to this interaction than just attraction. After all, she's been friends with Junghoon since middle school. Befriending a guy is not a big deal for her. Kotone only chuckled at his hesitation. “It doesn’t… I actually think we’ll get along just fine.”

“You think so?” both guys asked in unison, somewhat bewildered and impressed by her sudden surge of confidence.

“Yeah,” she cheered on. “It’s a good conversation starter for a lot of people I meet, so I can't blame them for that.”

“Phew…” Yeonghwan let out. “That’s nice to know—” he felt a buzzing in his pocket.

“You good, man?” Myungsoo inquired as he and Kotone watched Yeonghwan quickly read his screen within seconds.

“Oh, yeah… I gotta dip, man,” he informed, still holding his phone in his hand. “The council needs me for another meeting. Something about plans for the homecoming festival. But,” he turned to Kotone with a sly smile. “I won’t be giving away too much. It is for the freshies after all...”

“Do they need more help or—?”

“Nah, nah, I got this! We got this,” he reassured him. “They know you're on tour guide duties for the rest of the morning, so you keep doing you.”

“Oh… Okay, then. I’ll catch up with you guys later at class.”

“Sure. Later, hyung!” He turned to the freshie and bowed to her one more time. “It’s nice meeting you, Kotone-chan.”

She bowed back as Yeonghwan walked away from them. “Forgive me for him being a bit too casual,” Myungsoo let out a chuckle.

“Nah, it’s okay, sunbaenim.” Her smile widened. “I kinda like that kind of approach. I gotta admit, it’s pretty refreshing meeting someone new. Someone who isn't just from my own class.”

A smile also formed on Myungsoo’s face before looking at her yellow backpack. There’s three keychains he noticed in his glance. The lowest zipper contained the head of a red lesser panda. The one in the middle was a Sanrio character, whose name he definitely didn’t remember at the time. All he knew was that it was a punk rabbit, wearing a black hat with a pink skull. However, the uppermost one was an odd yet captivating design, dangling around the top zipper. Due to the chain resembling tulips, one would think of it like a twisted looking flower… Until, he realizes it’s a mouth.

“Hey… “ Myungsoo couldn’t help but point his finger. “That’s a pretty cool Demogorgon keychain!”

He knows what it is? She realized, turning her head in his direction. “Oh, thanks! It helps pickpockets rethink their decision.”

The sophomore let out a laugh. “That’s actually a nice strategy. No one wants to be taken in the Upside Down unless you’re the Mind Flayer. Or Vecna.”

“So, umm, you watch Stranger Things too?” she asked him with eyes of intrigue.

“Yeah, yeah!” he hollered, just as his enthusiasm gradually lowered. “Well, I loved the first two seasons.”

“Just the first two?” she raised an eyebrow, albeit mischievously.

“The third season’s a bit meh for me, to be honest,” he answered with a light shrug. “But the new one is still growing on me.”

“That’s an interesting take,” she professed. “I'm sure they're not as questionable as your anime takes? Or are you not a fan of one?”

Her playful taunt allured him, making him cross his arms. “Oh, don't hesitate to test me, Miss Kamimoto. I think you'll be surprised.”

Mutual interests were only the start. As both the seasons and semesters passed, they would live and learn that they have a lot more things in common than once thought. More things to talk about. More to bond over.

= =

Sophomore year, first semester. The two were at the garden when a flock of birds flew out the trees hearing her sudden burst of scream. Thankfully, no one else was there. At least no one who cared enough to pay attention.

“Junghoon got himself in trouble,” Kotone would often confide in Myungsoo. Perhaps this moment was one of the most serious talks they had with each other, even though it’s only been a year since they met.

“What? How did it happen?” He was just as confused, considering how he’s treated Junghoon as a younger brother. “He didn’t tell me about any problem in his class.”

“Of course he wouldn’t…” she grumbled. “That’s how he’s always been… But Honggi told me about it, and right when I confronted him about it, he brushed it off and told me not to worry! Like, how can I not worry about that?”

Myungsoo could feel the emotions beyond the surface of her irritation, one that she’s been trying to suppress while around him.

“He’s become a pushover. Again, ” she sighed. “Ugh… Why is he still like this?”

“Did his teammates threaten him?” he began asking his questions of concern.

“Worse,” she admitted. “It was a pair project, and he did it all by himself!”

Hearing the situation dwindled down his tension, though his worry for Kotone and Junghoon persisted. “So… No one threat—”

“No one threatened, or appeased him!” her voice elevated again. “Yeah, you got that right. His professor doesn’t even know, and it looks like it'll stay that way.”

“Maybe he has a reason,” he considered. “Was the partner sick? Or maybe they had an emergency? I know Junghoon isn't the most confrontational guy but I doubt he’d keep letting a classmate be a freeloader, especially on a pair project.”

“I don’t know… He said his sunbae was busy with her organization and that he used her references, but that’s not enough.”

“Sounds like he felt bad for her too.”

“I feel bad for him!” she countered.

“I am worried for him, too… But like you’ve said, he didn’t get punished for it. He didn’t even feel bad for what he did, even if, I had to admit, it was a bit too far that he did the project all by himself. He’ll be fine, Tone-yah… We can talk to him tomorrow.”

“Who is he even trying to impress in that situation?” she countered him. “He’s one to be interested in relationships.”

“Well,” he let out a chortle. “I guess, there’s a first time for everything.”

“Maybe, but I’ll still be keeping an eye on that Park Sohyun.”

“Wait. Park Sohyun’s his partner? That’s odd. And a bit reassuring for Junghoon.”

“Why? Do you know her?”

= =

Sophomore year, second semester. It was after class when Kotone asked Myungsoo to meet her outside their building. He could whiff a much stronger perfume the more she walked closer. Her loud voice would call out to him right after. “Oppa!” Especially with her outfit of a fit aesthetic shirt under a denim jacket (and not to mention her soft blush, mascara, and a warmer shade of lipstick), he almost mistook her for someone else for a second. “Thanks for meeting me here.”

“You look…” He stopped his sentence halfway, still in spectacle at her somewhat new look and style. “Fancier. You look fancier than usual. What’s the occasion?”

“Well…” she fixed her hair in front of him, inciting a quick gulp from Myungsoo, but not enough for her to hear it. “I’m going on a blind date with three of my friends and their companions tonight, and I want you to be there too with us.”

He placed his palm on his chest, dramatically leaning away from her. “Are you really inviting me to this just now? Without further notice?”

“Yeah, don’t you wanna be my plus one?” she held his hands. “They will like you, oppa. I’m sure you’ll get along with their plus ones too. Some of them are around your age.”

The longer she stared closer to him, her eyes slowly sparkled. He couldn’t even say ‘no’ for some dumb reason. “This is a bit too sudden, Tone.”

“Please…” her tone started to shift into a more cutesy one, as if she’s doing an aegyo. Or maybe that’s just how he often saw her face. He saw her new hair style. While a low bun isn’t anything new for Kotone, seeing it up close astounded Myungsoo. “It was pretty urgent. And I didn’t have anyone else to ask to come with me.”

He scoffed in disbelief. “Really? There’s no one else? A social butterfly like you?”

“Yah, I’m just a social caterpillar,” she quipped back. “If someone between us is the butterfly, it’s you, Mister Vice President of the SSU Visual Arts Organization!”

“That’s a fair point, but that’s hardly relevant, when you’re the one who asked me out on this…” he shot back. “Why didn’t you think of anyone else from the gang? Or even from your own block?”

She knew he was right, but she didn’t wanna give it up just yet, so she kept firing more reasons and excuses. “I thought of asking Yeonghwan-oppa or Honggi, but they seem like they do that by themselves anyway. I considered Junghoon, but he’s still busy on his shift tonight. And besides, this is the only time I’ve asked a favor, like c’mon...”

“I guess that’s true.” He sighed in resignation. In the silence of Kotone’s anticipation, he slowly slid his fingers through his hair before finally facing her. “Fine… But, I’m only going ‘cause you asked. But only this ti—”

Kotone squealed. “Gomawo, oppa! That’s a deal, alright? The meetup won’t be that far from here.”

= = =

Vacation, pre-junior year. Since their dorms were the closest to the university among best friends, they decided to meet on campus after lunch. It was a Saturday morning when Kotone had returned to Korea after a one-month vacation to her hometown.

“I know I’m a few days late,” she pulled out a pair of small silky bags from her pocket. “But, saengil chukhahaeyo.”

With eyes of curiosity and anticipation, Myungsoo inspected the bags. It took him a second to guess the gift, but he was familiar with it. They're omamori. Two of them. Red and pink. Considering he wasn’t too knowledgeable of Japanese, Kotone briefly explained the writings to them. “That’s a kenku, and that one’s an en-musubi.”

“What do they mean?”

“Kenku’s for good health and long life. Cliche, I know,” Kotone giggled, before she took a swift deep breath, though he barely noticed. “But the en-musubi is for finding luck in love.”

He slid his fingers on each, feeling the smooth texture of the charm, mesmerized by their design. “Woah… This looks legit. I mean, you know, it’s pretty. It’s authentic.”

She chuckled at his observation. “Of course, it is. I bought that in Meiji Jingu. I actually bought each two for you and the boys, but I decided to give yours first.”

“I-uhhh… I don’t know what to say… Gomawo, Tone.”

“You’re welcome, oppa… That’s for the Orbit merch you gave me.”

“Those were your birthday gifts… You deserved that.”

“You better not lose these within a year,” she added with more emphasis, staring at the two charms.

“I'll do my best. Especially for the love charm,” he teased, which only provoked the woman as her eyes squinted at him in an instant. “My love life is now in your hands or something.”

“I’m kidding,” he chuckled, as he looked down on both charms on his hand, caressing it with affection. “I won’t lose it, of course. They’re good charms… But if something does happen to these, which I won’t allow anything to happen to, you’re still gonna be my good charm, you know?”

Kotone felt a gulp on her throat. She chuckled nervously. “Flatterer.”

“That’s just the truth,” he justified himself. “You and the guys have always been my charms since we got together.” He faced her with a serious gaze and closed smile, putting his right hand on her left shoulder. “I couldn’t be more grateful for that.”

Dugeun… “Myungsoo-oppa.” Dugeun…

“And look who’s back!” A familiar male voice yelled from behind, startling only the woman. It’s Yeonghwan, with Honggi and Junghoon, right beside him, as they all rushed to the pair behind the bench with excitement.

“Kamjagiya!” Kotone did not expect their presence, which only elevated her heartbeat. “Guys! What the hell? I thought y’all won’t be making it today!” She turned to the quiet one among them. “Junghoon-ah, you even said that you’re working at the CVS today.”

“Well, actually… The boss told me I can take one day off during the weekend until summer break ends,” he explained. “Plus, why would we ever miss your arrival?”

“So the three of you just planned this surprise without telling me?”

“It’s actually our plan,” Myungsoo revealed. “All of us wanted to surprise you.”

“Oh… Well, that’s a bummer… I would’ve brought the rest of your gifts.”

“That’s okay… The gifts can come later.” Honggi started to make circle motions with his hand on his tummy. “You’ll make it up for us some other way.”

She and Myungsoo laughed at his subtle suggestion, knowing well what he meant. What they all meant. She breathed through her nose. “Where do you guys wanna have lunch?”

Cheers erupted from the three, making her laugh more and widening her smile at the reaction and sight of all her closest friends, who gathered with her.

= = =

Junior year, first semester. The campus had been set up with dozens of different and unique booths, as plenty of clubs and organizations had prepared them in the past week. So far, the week-long university festival has been going well on its third day. From arcades and treasure hunts to readings and talent shows, hundreds of students and visitors stroll and explore the university from seven to six… And it was no different for these two. Myungsoo was holding a small bouquet of flowers in his hand as Kotone was holding a stuffed toy bunny while they walked across the crowd.

“You finally tried that spirit animal booth yet?” Myungsoo wondered.

“Oh, yeah!” she clapped on the bunny toy with her left hand as if she were a seal with flippers. “That was the funnest one I’ve had so far... They really made a lot of effort making that one, so I applaud them.”

“More than your own club’s booth?” He teased her with the question.

“Well,” she had caught his intention, prompting her to raise the confidence in her delivery. “Nothing else beats our treasure hunt, of course, so it’s a close second… Maybe I’ll consider the Lyrical Booth too some other time.”

“Oh…” his mouth slowly opened in anticipation. “Are you finally gonna be showing your rapping skills at the workshop? While at it, why not join the talent contest too—”

“Yah, I’m just considering!” she reacted with remarkable alertness. “Don’t be too excited. It might not even happen, if you keep on prying.”

“Why not?” He opened his arms wide, much to her slight embarrassment. “I can be your hype boy!”

Her eyes moved to the side, staring at him. “You mean hype man?”

“Yeah, yeah. My bad… I got it mixed up from that song from last year.”

“It’s fine…” she brushed off. “What’s what the Noraebang Booth does to you anyways. They got a lot of bangers since yesterday, so I can’t blame ya.”

“But I’m still wondering, what was your result on the animal test from earlier?”

“Oh, yeah… As expected, I’m a lesser red panda! Nothing new there,” she exclaimed. “How about you?”

“Eh…” he huffed. “I really don’t wanna mention it.”

“Oh, come on. That’s not fair,” she nudged him on his left shoulder. “Are you keeping things from us more because you now have—”

“Myungsoo-yah! Tone-chan!” A woman walked towards them. One who has been both familiar to them since the past and a half year. “There you are!”

“Annyeong, Yooyeon-unnie!” Kotone waved at her, witnessing both her friends meet.

“I just had a walk with Tone,” Myungsoo walked closer to her, holding her hands with exhilaration. “You shouldn’t worry about me too much, noona.”

“Yah… I told you not to call me that,” Yooyeon lowered her voice. “Not in front of everyone, anyways.” She turned to Kotone. “And thanks for looking after him… Tone-chan. You must’ve been exhausted keeping up with all his yapping.”

“Hey,” Myungsoo interjected, embarrassed by the woman’s remark.

Kotone chortled. “That’s no problem, unnie. He was being less chatty this time…” She poked his left elbow. “So that made things a little easier for me. And himself.”

“Hmm… That's unusual for my boyfriend.” She leaned closer into him, speaking her breath closely while he exhaled a smile with excitement. “Maybe I shall give him a better, more thorough check up inside our booth?”

As she witnessed their sweet and suggestive moment, Kotone felt a sensation travel down her spine. Her heartbeat increases, seeing their faces only an inch away from each other’s. Her fingers clenched as her smile tightened as their lips touched. “I, uhh, I’ll go look after Junghoon and Honggi at their booths. You two just have fun, alright?”

“Are you sure you don't wanna tag along with us?” Myungsoo tried to talk her out.

“And be a third wheel? Ah, no thanks,” she scoffed with a more playful undertone. His persistence to make her stay somewhat struck a nerve, but she didn’t mind it for long. “You two rarely get the chance to hang out since preparation week. Look, unnie, he even got you a mini you. Those flowers weren’t enough for him.”

“Awww… You got these for me?” Yooyeon cooed at Myungsoo, taking both gifts as they embraced.

He accepted a kiss from her on his cheek. “I just thought since it’s the festival, it’d be a nice way to help one of the arcade booths and bring you something at the same time.”

“You and your excuses, babe. And of course, you’re welcome to tag along with us, Tone-chan...” the older woman quipped to Kotone, letting out a giggle beside Myungsoo. “Who else knows better than us than our own matchmaker?”

Flattery was what she felt. At least, it should have been her only reaction. Yet it's only the surface. A convincing cover to what her heart was telling her… “I’ll be fine on my own. You two can pay me back by setting me up with someone, arasseo?”

“I'll be on the lookout, girl.” Yooyeon forms her fingers in the shape of a gun. ”You can count on me for that. I know a lot of fellas from our class, so just take your pick.”

Tone adored that her close friend was acting like that. She liked that both her close friends were happy. She did. She should.

“Sure, unnie…” she snorted. “Alright, now I really gotta go. Take care, love birds…”

But there was no point in ruining their moment by reminding them of their presence. By reminding herself. There’s nothing to gain from it. Nothing to gain from thinking about this longer than it should. She turned around and faced the crowd while still wearing her smile when she heard her clubmate’s cheerful voice.

“Have fun, Tone-chan! We’ll be at our booth, okay?”

They’re happy. It’s all that mattered.

= = =

Junior year, second semester. Things got more hectic, academic-wise, especially with seniors like Myungsoo finally reaching their final semester. But, even for juniors like Kotone, a lot more doors of opportunities opened for her… And that’s what the latter assured her when they talked by themselves in one of the campus gardens. She was told it was urgent, so the woman waited at one of the benches until he arrived.

“You should run as auditor, Kotone.”

“Me?” Her eyes widened, even standing up from her seat. “For the student council? Michyeosseo?”

“Come, Tone-yah… It’s gonna be productive for you... You’ll get to demonstrate your skills and talents outside class. Outside your little diamond dreamer club. Plus, even Yooyeon thinks you should venture out too.”

“That's easy for both of you to say, oppa.”

“Take it from me. I may already be a senior, but that doesn't stop me from trying out other responsibilities. And I don't see why you wouldn't do the same.”

“Oh, so you’re guilt-tripping me ‘cause it’s your last year, huh?”

“No, no, no! You don’t have to run. But you know, just think about it. Just my advice.”

He could only wait for her in silence. While the leaves above rustled along the winds and the branches blissfully swayed. Clinging her right index and thumb on her chin, Kotone's mind gradually shifted into a more rational route.

“Hmm… Now that you’ve brought it up,” she pondered. “Maybe it will give me more experience. Perhaps, it’ll be a great addition to my resume…”

“Now we’re talking.”

“But that doesn't mean I'll actually run for real, arasseo?” she pointed her index finger at him. I'm just considering all my options carefully.”

= = = =

Senior year, first semester. Kotone gained more exposure and some connections after becoming elected as the auditor of the Education Department’s Student Council, even after Myungsoo finally graduated with flying colors. But, there’s one thing she or any student can’t escape from. And such a laborious reality was something that she often dealt with, by spending time at the library before or after class.

After taking off her glasses, she sighed on the surface of the table right next to the stack of books she had compiled. “Would be nice to have Junghoon, Honggi, and Yeonghwan with us… Why did all of them have to enlist at a time like this? Couldn’t they just have waited their turn?”

“Yeonghwan said he just wanted to get it out of the way,” Myungsoo pointed out. Yes, he was still there. “I'm thinking the other two just thought he had a point.”

"That's such a silly answer. But yeah, it is pretty reasonable, I guess.”

“Or maybe they're just avoiding making their own theses,” he added.

“That's what I was thinking!” she almost bursted into laughter, but not before muffling her mouth with both her hands.

Myungsoo giggled as softly as he could. “Don’t worry... You still have me, right? What better way to work on your thesis than to ask for advice from your sunbae. When the boys get discharged, they’ll regret not being here with us… At least two of ‘em will.”

“Eeeeehh... You're only here 'cause you just extended your teaching assistant job in the first place!” She gave him a light punch on his left shoulder.

“Yah… Just because it's true, it doesn’t mean it's easy for me either.”

“Oh, poor you,” she sneered with a sarcastic undertone. ”Gotta wait for your girlfriend while the rest of us hoobaes have it so easy with our thesis, don’t we? Not to mention, I still have a meeting with the council later this afternoon!”

“Just so you know, I don't regret being here as much as you want me to. And Yooyeon still has another hour before her class ends, so I have no other choice but to stay here for a while as you babble in front of your laptop… And I gotta make sure that you're not just slacking around or snoring on your table.”

His argument only made her snicker. There was no point in arguing with a friend. This friend. “Well, I give up, so I’ll just say it. Thanks for the support, even if it’s just you being here with me.”

They lock eyes for a moment. No quips, no banters. Just the traces of their smile, just before a thought crawled up their blank minds... This may be the last year they’ll see each other like this. At least, with just the two of them. Perhaps, that’s for the best.

“Anytime, Tone-chan… What are friends for?”

Especially because of that.

= = = = = = = = =

“One matcha latte for Changmin! Your order is now ready for pickup,” an automated voice calls out from the counter. A man, in his early twenties, stands up from his seat right after the call, parting from his friends for a moment to fetch his order.

It's 12:00 P.M., and the cafe is already flooding with customers, most of whom are students and professors on their break. The calendars on the kiosks state February 7, 2031. On their table, twenty-six-year-old Kotone has been facing a twenty-eight-year-old Myungsoo from her seat in the last half an hour, surrounded by their now almost empty disposable cups, their laptops, and distinct bags on the chair beside them. His eye bags are more noticeable than usual. He’s still tall, although his latest figure appears a little more “mesomorphic,” as she tries to describe it herself mentally, though it doesn’t bother her. It’s not uncommon to gain weight in their late twenties, what’s the big deal?

Thankfully, there was no sense of awkwardness in their atmosphere. Why would there be? They were close friends. They were there for each other at their highest and lowest points for more than four years. If his mere new look bothered her, then their friendship was all pointless and for nothing. Besides, there’s other reasons to be awkward about.

It ain't the first time she's seen him after graduation, thanks to social media and some social gatherings that she tried to avoid in the last few years. But, seeing him now, it's something else. Something that she can't describe, considering the fact she’s been paying attention to his face as much as she is to his words, probably a little more.

“This is a really, really big project… You really sure you wanna do this, Kotone?”

“You don’t have to do it with me. I can just write and send a request letter to the Dean instead, if they need any more proof or confirmation that we’re sincere about this.”

“No, Tone-yah,” he insists. “Since I already agreed to meet with you, I can handle that.”

“How about you, Myungsoo-oppa,” she asks him, her tone’s a mix between a playful intimidation, covering her slight hint of concern. “Do you think this is a lost cause?”

“Of course, it’s not a lost cause,” he reassures. “I wanna help you. Not just because I’ve been teaching here for four years now, but I believe why you wanna do this… Honestly, it’s not that selfish to think about making some reunion possible.”

Her eyes light up with optimism, contrasting her somewhat smug front. “Really?”

“Almost every alumni homecoming we’ve had were for middle-aged folks. Which is fine, no offense to them, but people our age often forget that we were students once too, back in the day. This is a chance for us to remind them that it’s okay to think about and yearn for those times. You don’t need to be in your forties to attend a college reunion… right?”

Her heartbeat slowly becomes louder. “Well…” She clears her throat. “That’s well said. I couldn’t have put it better myself. Besides, Yoon-daepyonim already had this approved, so it would really irritate her if this doesn’t go through.”

“I know you guys do galas for socialites and folks at corpo every year,” he scratches his chin slowly. “But I didn’t know ModHaus would also be into organizing alumni parties. Like, I don’t know if that’s like an upgrade or a desperate rebranding from them.”

“We’ll plan, organize, and host just about anything, if we think it’s worth planning,” she crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow. “We’re not called the company of all possibilities for nothing. And, we don’t just do it for corporations... Ever since she took over, we’re not like that anymore. For the better.”

“Well, I can’t deny that. But whatever the case is… Tell your boss not to worry too much…” He offers his left hand. “Let’s do well on this project, Miss Kamimoto.”

Such an act of formality from an old friend makes her giggle, a response that she tries to cover up by clearing her throat immediately after. Leveling her eyes with her friend, she holds his hand with her right. “Couldn’t agree more, Professor Kim. Let’s do our best.”

And as their hands shake through this meetup, the Reunion Party of Batch 2025-2026 has been set in motion throughout this month. Through weekly meetings, Myungsoo helps Kotone become acquainted with some of the current alumni committee of the SSU. Most were new faces, about a few years younger. Some were familiar, most of which were either older or the same age as hers.

“Kotone-ssi! It really is you. You barely aged a day.”

“Ne! Annyeonghaseyo, sunbae. And please, it seems that time has been kinder to you.”

“Sunbaenim!” another one approaches her. “It’s wild, and an honor, seeing you here, considering how blessed you are, working at one of the richest companies in Korea.”

“Nah, I beg to differ!” she humbles herself. “I wouldn’t even have gotten to ModHaus if I never spent my time here in Seoul State… The honor’s on me, knowing how passionate and dedicated you all are in helping to plan this event.”

“And just to assure you,” she added. “You will all be compensated for your service.”

Her reminder sparks wholehearted laughter and cheers from the committee. “We’re not doing this for money, Kotone-ssi… But just so you should know, we can’t deny that kind of promise.”

“Well, it’s finally settled then.” She claps her hand. “Hwaiting, yeorobun!”

The planning and execution would take a couple of months, perhaps a little longer than their timeframe, as both the representatives from Tone’s company and the SSU alumni committee would have to juggle between fulfilling their regular duties at their personal works and making this brand new event beyond merely possible.

“ModHaus will provide their services as much as they can, so don’t worry about asking our affiliates for help, everyone. This also counts as our project, after all.”

But what makes this period more than memorable for Kotone was not only the people she’s been reunited with. They are still at the preparation stages, after all. They would have team lunches here and there. Revisiting the university itself was the most special aspect for her, because of the memories it brought both of them back with each step in every stroll they took on campus before or after their meetings.

At noon, they bask in the sunlight, which, thankfully, is no longer as excruciating and dangerous to walk freely as it was years ago without the habitual routine of putting on some sunscreen during spring and summer. The pair would walk past the grass fields and the nearby blossoming gardens. Past the buildings old and new. There’s parts of themselves that never left. It was understandable for Myungsoo, but for Kotone, it’s quite eye-awakening to see her realization unfold with her eyes. From the students, professors, to the guests like her going on with their business. A group of friends chilling under the shade of the trees, inclining on the bench, with some lying even on the grass with no to little care about the dirt that just accumulated on their shirts and jackets.

She simply can’t take her eyes off her surroundings. With every live scenery to watch in a state of bliss, her gaze would find another to watch and appreciate. “I know a lot has changed since graduation, and yet, this place feels like yesterday.”

“Really?” Myungsoo teases her, following her gaze. “I honestly can’t tell the difference.”

“Yah, don’t ruin the moment…” she whines. “That’s ‘cause you’ve stayed here while most of us went our separate ways. Of course, you wouldn’t get it.”

He does. But he doesn’t say anything. Looking in her direction, he reminiscences much like her. “Hey, do you remember that time when we first hung out at these fields?”

Kotone now realizes that she underestimated him.

She thinks to herself, Maybe this is all just nostalgia. With all this ambition, maybe this is just me listening to my younger self, instead of focusing more and more at work and slaving myself to the executives, like I have always been.

“You know… If this doesn't end well, then consider it a cautionary tale for myself,” she admits her own misgiving, subconsciously opening and closing her hands in a sporadic pattern.

“It’ll go well, Tone,” Myungsoo senses the seeds of doubt already growing within her. “But, if it makes you feel any better, I'll join you on that lesson.”

She giggled, before sighing into the breeze. “Thanks, but I don’t know… I honestly just want to make this a reality for our batchmates. That’ll make me feel better. Besides, I made a bet with a few of my closest friends. Suhyeon, Kyubok, even Junghoon.”

He wants to comfort her—but hearing a familiar name is not something he’s heard in a while, but her last-second confession makes him laugh. “Junghoon’s doing well, I see… We rarely get to hear from the rest of the gang nowadays, and I only heard that he was the head chef at your company… But it’s actually nice to hear that from our youngest.”

She knows what he means, but she doesn’t want to ruin the vibe of their conversation. “Oh, he’s doing so much better, oppa… I actually want you to hear from him when the time comes. But that for now, all I can say is…”

Kotone begins to spill tea which astonishes Myungsoo. It’s only the start of this night. Bringing together scenes and sequences of memories from their collegiate past would continue to motivate them in making this event a reality, not just for themselves, but also for everyone else who will take part in this reunion.

= = =

March 2031. They start to spend more time meeting outside the university. On this day, the pair meet in a cafe outside the ModHaus building, which surprisingly enough, was Myungsoo’s suggestion. For once, he wants her to travel less, arguing that her anticipation for the reunion will wane if they keep meeting on campus grounds.

Straight from his backpack, he hands the woman a small box wrapped in a pink ribbon, which she opens. She’s in awe.

Kotone looks back at him. “What… What is this, Myungsoo-oppa?”

“Just a gift. It’s your birthday today, isn’t it? Saengil chukahaeyo.”

After a quick unboxing of the box, she gives the bottle a test spray inches away from her.

This isn’t just any perfume. This scent has brought her years of memories more vividly. Back to that afternoon. To a lot of afternoons. The garden. The flowers. It doesn't help since the man in front of her was mostly with her during those times. It’s not the exact same brand, but it’s enough for the woman to let out a sigh of longing, yearning for those moments even more.

“Wah…” she whiffs more of the scent. “I can’t believe it's been a long time since I've sprayed something like this.”

”Do you like it?” He remains reserved, even though he’s already seeing her reaction.

”How can I not? You're really making me excited about the reunion, you know that?”

“Well, I didn’t mean to…” he confessed. “But, if you think of it like that, then I’m glad that helped you be more pumped up for this event.”

Her eyes widen once again, only realizing now what he said earlier. “So, after all these times, you still remember my birthday, huh?”

“Yeah!” he cheers, nudging her shoulder. “Come on, Tone. What are friends for?”

Oh… A dart strikes her heart. Why is she feeling this? Why is she grateful, yet also hurt? Why does she feel that pang inside her? It’s nothing, a voice tells her. This isn’t the first time he’s given you a gift! “Oppa, this is too much. I don’t know what. How to repay—”

“You don’t need to repay anything. And just because you’re working hard, doesn’t mean you can’t have a little celebration. Most of our plans have been finalized! We’ve gotten this far thanks to you, so consider it as a reward.”

Maybe that’s enough. “Thank you for this, Myungsoo.”

She brushes this thought off with that self-reassurance. This thing isn’t about whatever she just considered in her mind. This is about the reunion. You’re being overdramatic around him. Just focus on your job now. “And speaking of finalized, I just have to ask again if you have proofread the whole invitation, haven’t you?”

“Yep, for the hundredth time. I’ve gone through the email. They did a great job with making it snappy and concise. They didn’t even use GPT to write those up.”

“Well, I trust your word… Let’s finally send it, shall we?”

“Of course, it’s your call, committee leader.”

“Stop,” she chuckles and with one deep breath, she takes one last scan of her invitation before hitting ‘send’ on the email with her index finger. Kotone braces herself for what’s about to come, looking back at Myungsoo as a reassuring closed smile forms on his face. “Let’s do our best, Tone-chan,” he raises his left hand, his fist closed.

His innocent face reminds her of a quote from a show that she watched decades ago. That damned smile. She reciprocates his gesture with her right hand with a chuckle, hoping to forget what she just felt earlier. Still, even that single bump of touching his skin sends a tingle through her veins.

= = =

April 2031.

Things got busier. Questions from invited guests build up. Scheduling conflicts between their sponsors and services begin to surface. With only a few weeks away, the committee has been doing their best, dividing their tasks in dealing with the problems step by step. On weekends, their responses to certain emails would take overnight.

“Let’s take a break first… We’ve done a lot tonight.”

Right as she closes her laptop, Kotone’s voice begins to crack. “O—okay…”

Myungsoo immediately sensed something’s off with her silence. He inched closer, slowly reaching his hand into her shoulder. “Tone-yah… Are you… alright?”

She struggles completing her words, completely giving into the chaos clashing in her heart and mind. “It's just… I miss them… It’s hard… to imagine… I just don’t want to disappoint them.”

Myungsoo has no words. Rather, he’s hesitant and fearful that he would only break her heart more than it already is. He doesn’t want to give false promises or high hopes, but he doesn’t want to let her down either. He listens to his heart, pushing himself to hold her shoulders, slowly wrapping his arms around them.

“I miss them too, Tone…” he mumbles, patting her on the back and caressing her hair as she lets out her tears in his embrace through a muffled whimper. “We’ll make this work, arasseo? I’m sure of it.”

= = =

On this Friday of May 2031, the reunion finally begins inside the Na Heedo Gymnasium.

And as they expected, not everyone could be there tonight. But the fact that more than a hundred invited guests arrived there has surpassed most of their expectations. Faces old and new dress up for the occasion, crossing paths with their old buddies from years ago.

The guests stand and stare at the spectacle that is the party. Hundreds of familiar faces, now several years older, laughing and grooving on the dance floor under the moonlight vibing at the playlist of Western and local pop music alike prepared by the DJ. It is still several minutes before the program proper starts, allowing guests to keep bonding and being acquainted with each other inside or near the venue. Plentiful students, whether graduating or already graduates for a year or two, are present too, taking advantage of possible recruitment from their alumni, though they’d have to make some effort to get their attention, considering that fact that lot of alumni just wanted to party tonight by getting off some steam and escaping from their present.

“Tone-yah has really made it possible, huh,” Kim Chaeyeon shakes her head in amazement.

“I mean, it was like, almost four months in the making, right?” Kim Nakyoung wonders. “But damn. She really did it.” She claps her hand.

“Three months. But come on now,” Kotone herself joins them in a less formal dress. “It wouldn't be possible without y'all. There’d be no reunion without you guys and gals!”

“Omo, omo… Tone kudasai!” Lee Jiwoo hollers on. “The mastermind is finally here!”

“I just can't believe you and your committee managed to pull this off!” Dahyun cheers on, joining the huddle between women. “It paid off.”

She’s touched by their piles of praise. “Thanks for the compliments, y’all. I, uhh, I’m just really happy that you guys can make it here tonight.”

About four hours would go by, dozens of personal reunions take place not just inside the gymnasium, but also in the corridors, the outdoors, and even in the restroom. Let your imagination wild. Members of the committee would often check on each other, but for the most part, they’d only tell each other to enjoy the moment once their program had all wrapped up.

With nothing else to deal with, Kotone finds Myungsoo from a distance. Maybe it’s simply the magical atmosphere that the event has conjured throughout the campus tonight, but to her, it's like when she first met him during orientation week. Her heart tells her to do it. To walk up to him. Nothing can stop her now. Why keep hesitating.

Right as her eyes catch Yooyeon approaching him with two empty glasses in her hands.

She can feel her own heart pulling away, dragging down like an anchor with every beat. This isn't college, nor is it not high school either. Well, you definitely did not think this through, her ego tells her over the deafening gymnasium.

“So…” she hears someone else’s familiar voice from behind. “It still really is him. After all those years.”

She turns around. “I don't know what you're talking about, Junghoon-ah.”

“You don't have to tell me anything, Tone…” he snickers. “But, maybe it's better if you talk things out with him.”

“Nothing is going on, dude,” she keeps dismissing his claim with a smile. “And how about you and—”

“We're doing well, thank you,” he stops her, knowing well who she meant. “Worry about your own… I just don't want you to get hurt because you're keeping it to yourself… Go to him. Don’t think about it too much.”

And as he leaves her with an assuring smile, Kotone does. She takes a deep breath, maintaining her cool and shaking her worries and doubts to the side the closer she reaches the gap between Myungsoo and Yooyeon, even as they exchange laughter.

“Look who finally showed up… Koto-chan!”

= = =

It’s now an hour past midnight, inside the gymnasium, and only a few alumni and other guests have been hanging out, as they exit the hall and, on their way out, thank the ones who are still present there, the committee themselves, the two of whom are Kotone and Myungsoo. They’re now fixing everyone else’s mess, yet they do it with smiles radiating with contentment with the memories they made.

“I know the staff will be dealing with most of these in the morning, but I’d rather fix the mess we’ve made here.” Kotone places another chair on the fifth stack. “At least most of them. Wow, this is no joke.”

“Let me help you with that,” offers Myungsoo. “You’ve done a lot for tonight, you know.”

The woman has had the urge to ask him about what she saw earlier. It can just be a friendly curiosity, right? Nothing scandalous about it.

“Thanks for helping me out, not just with this, But you know… With everything.”

“Hey, don't mention it, Tone-yah,” he taps her on the back. “I loved planning this whole event as much as you did, but you're basically the MVP who made this fantasy real from the start.”

“Nah,” she objects. “It would have remained a fantasy if it wasn't for you, Kim Ssaem. You’re the one who’s still here.”

“I guess, but who knew the class officers of 2025 would still be here like we used to?”

“Not everyone from our officers got to be here, if you remember things clearly, but I guess… It’s best that we focused on who came tonight. Cherished the moments with those in front of us,” she pondered.”

“That… That couldn’t be more true.”

“The nostalgia must have gotten into you tonight as well, Mister Treasurer.”

“I didn't even know how to count money that well.” He laughs and shakes his head at her callback. “I can't remember why I even accepted the class’ nomination in the first place.”

“I wasn’t there, but I thought you did your job just fine.”

“That's because you were there with me, Miss Auditor!”

“Not when you were around,” she shoots back. “I wasn’t even there until your last year.”

“You helped me regardless. Plus, you did well on your own after I graduated. Balancing the council funds and your thesis… Now, everything paid off for you, Tone-chan.”

“Hey, at least you’re loving your job. Loyalty can get you somewhere, after all.”

“You don’t?” he queried. “You get paid like six digits for about half a year, if not more! You’re just as loyal to ModHaus as I am to our alma mater.”

“Well… That’s one thing I love about my job. I just wish I’d get to do other stuff, like I did planning this event, you know? Not that I wanna be an intern again or something, but it’d be nice to branch out to another department… It’s been a long time.”

“Have you ever considered applying for other positions in your company?” he suggested. “I doubt they wouldn't want to take your expertise for granted, because in the past three months, you’ve shown them what you’re capable of… You’re a woman of many talents, Tone.”

Dugeun. “You flatter so much, Myungsoo-oppa…”

“Yeah, but that wasn't a lie, was it?”

“Whatever. I am considering reaching out to the Event Management Team. Happy?” she spills to him. “They’re the ones who planned and executed the last ModHaus Gala, and, believe it or not, that inspired me to do this whole shebang.”

With that, some things start to make sense to Myungsoo. “They'll be lucky to have you.”

Unbeknownst to Kotone, her cheeks start to blush. “You and your words again, oppa!”

“I swear those are just my observations.”

= = =

June 2031.

Even after the reunion, the two still hang out. Kotone and Myungsoo still keep in touch, as the latter first suggested, even if they meet less this time. Around two to three times a week, they’d hang out after work with their mutual friends. Other times, it’s just the two of them, which is nothing new, much like tonight.

“Look who just got promoted?” is how she breaks the ice to him during this meetup.

“Seolma… That’s great!” By instinct, excitement fuels him to take her hands while the pitch of his voice goes up. “Chukahaeyo!”

His hand holding on to hers is evoking something strange, but not unfamiliar. Their eyes lock in silence with no exchange of banters, as they both get a feeling of déjà vu. However, such a moment doesn’t fill her mind with expectation, a juxtaposition with how heart is behaving in his presence. Kotone notices everyone else at the cafe giving them different looks, something that doesn’t seem to faze the man in front of him. The man whose eyes are only focused on her. Embarrassment is not what her mind has been warning her. Rather, it’s the same old hindrance that’s holding her back. All those years.

“You can let go now, Myungsoo-oppa,” she tells him, yet she keeps holding on to them.

He senses the discomfort in her voice. Perhaps, that’s not the right word, yet it’s abrupt for him and strange, even for himself. “Oh, right… Mianhae.” He parts from the woman, taking a few steps away from her.

“No, it's okay,” she fixes her hair, placing scattered strands to the side. “You just took me by surprise, that’s all. You were a bit too excited. And it’s my promotion, too,” she tries to lighten up the mood once again.

“Well, it's a big achievement for you,” he defends. “How can I not be happy for you?”

“Gomawo, oppa.”

= = =

Three weeks have passed. Tonight feels different, but maybe that’s just what Myungsoo feels, based on his observation. They feel a bit more distant. Strangely enough, the fact that they're inside a pojangmacha makes him more attentive towards her. It must be the limited space. Or that her cheeks are slowly blushing right after taking down her fourteenth shot of the night.

She’s quieter than usual, he notices her staring into a blank space. “You alright? Or are you gonna rant about it? Hey, you better not be regretting your promotion or something, because you very much deserved that position.”

“Oppa…” she turns to him, ignoring his active concerns and speculation, as one question has been lingering on her mind. “What are we?”

He turns to her without a word, keeping his mouth from opening agape. His reaction is delayed, like a system lagging due to the overloading of data. If he had taken a sip of his shot before that, he would’ve spilled his drink. “Huh? What do you mean, Tone? Your question’s a bit too vague…”

Just like their relationship. Kotone takes a deeper breath than before. Instead of facing him head on, her eyes gaze at a distance, wistful at her thoughts and reminiscing of her past. “Yeah... I know that’s such a cliche thing to say… But, I’ve been thinking of it for a while... That damn question… But then again, you’re not a philosophy professor.”

“If that’s what you mean, uhh, then…” he stammers, hoping that playing along will help him understand what she's talking about. “We’re friends. We’ve always been, aren’t we?”

She feels a clenching and numbing sensation in her chest. It’s temporary, but she knows why she’s feeling like this. To hear that phrase over and over again. It’s exhausting.

“Yeah,” she affirms. “Don’t mind me. I know it’s already been months since the reunion, but I’m just taking us down memory lane. What happened after graduation. It just got me thinking, how, the last time we met, you were also with Yooyeon-unnie. My close friend and fellow Diamond Dreamer.”

“Tone-yah.” He feels discomfort, even from her, since all she’s doing is bringing up his own dating life. Yet, he finds it strange that he himself doesn’t want her to tell all these details. But his mind reminds him of their encounter at the reunion. When she walked up to him and Yooyen. “Where are you going with this?”

“No, no, I’m not jealous or anything,” she slowly rubs the side of her neck. “I was happy for you guys... But now that we’re on this route, I’m just wondering how she’s doing.”

Jealous? Myungsoo’s mind repeats it. He’s not entirely convinced by her words, but he doesn’t want to worsen this moment. He just wants Kotone around. Talk things out in this new perspective, even if it makes him, or even her, uncomfortable. “I mean, with what I know, she’s been doing well now. Always a beloved professor to her classes.”

“Are you not beloved by your students?”

“Well, I had my ups and downs… And—” He realizes Tone’s move. She's trying to change the subject and beating around the bush. “Wait… You’ve caught up with Yooyeon at the reunion, haven't you? Along with your fellow clubmates. She mentioned that. And you walked to us.”

“Ah…” She's running out of ramblings. Out of excuses. “We have, and she looks just as stunning as I last saw her. And most of the members were there, too. Jiwoo. Chaeyeon. Nakyoung-unnie. Everyone had a glow-up. They evolved. They were still so beautiful.”

And so are you. He can’t speak it out, feeling a part of himself keep such words from leaving his mouth. It’s usually not like this, and it’s bugging him.

“I love Yooyeon-unnie. She was always like a sister to me... But after finding out how successful she’s been, how all of them have been, even I knew that I couldn’t have compared to her in a lot of ways—”

“Don’t say that.” He didn’t know what just came to him, but he could only feel his heart constricting, hearing the woman compare herself to his old flame. Her own best friend. Deep down, he knows it’s not all of the sudden. “You’re saying nonsense now. Yooyeon and you are different. Don’t compare yourself to her, or anyone.”

She looks at him, her eyes a veil to various emotions. Disdain. Inferiority. Regret. Determination. Bitterness. Reassurance. False hope. “So how did you see me then, Myungsoo?”

He gulps down his own nervousness, hoping that her words in the past few minutes are simply the result of her less sober state. But he finally gets her to speak out. “Tone-yah. You must already be—”

“Drunk?” she scoffs, knowing him well. Quite too well. “I don’t know. I guess, we’ve had too many of those then. We’ve had this kind of talk too many times for me not to forget. You should know by now that this second bottle doesn’t faze me one bit…”

“Are you sure about that? Because it seems like—”

“I like you, oppa.”

He’s finally at a loss of words, but she still looks at him dead in the eye.

“All those years, I've been idiotic. I'm idiotic right now, too… Just risking our friendship for something I'm not even sure will go anywhere.”

Defeated and dumbfounded by his failure to realize it beforehand, he can only look down while she takes her fifteenth shot.

“I thought that making the reunion would make things like they used to,” she adds. “I mean for a night, it did… And I was so happy about that. I was overjoyed that I didn’t disappoint anyone who made it. Or myself. I mean I did get a promotion after that.”

She pours the last ounce of her bottle, before taking her sixteenth shot without pause. “And then I saw you and Yooyeon together. I know I was happy for you two back then. But, b-but I don't know how else to say it… Seeing you that night. It… It still hurts.”

He feels his heart sink deeper. “Kotone,” Myungsoo wants to say anything else, but he keeps his gaze at her. Amidst her words, he himself is paralyzed in this dilemma. He wants to open his mouth, but she continues her somber, tipsy confession.

She wants to cry. It’s what they usually do in dramas, but weirdly enough, there are no tears left for her tonight. The pang is there, burning through her raging heart with every word she mutters. But she won’t stop until she’s left it all out of her system. “And I know that you’re no longer together, but my stupid brain kept thinking that there could still be a slight chance… So I went up and ruined your moment.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he mumbles back.

“On second thought…” she wheezes, unable to defend her own face of smugness to him, even though he defended her. “Maybe I’ll regret this tomorrow. I’m sorry I wasted your time tonight.”

Slowly, he reaches his hand going to her shoulders, but her eyes catch it from the side. “Don't do anything you'll regret, oppa. Just because you feel bad for me.”

“Then I’ll regret it with you.” Myungsoo raises his bottle. Kotone wants to feel touched, but in her mind, she’s sensed this pattern that’s been irking her in the past few months since they’ve caught up. A pattern that lasted years. His willingness and enthusiasm to hang out with her whenever she invites him, without any question. His long ‘ride or die’ mentality whenever she’s on her low point or even when it’s the silliest of hypotheticals, like now. I know what you’re feeling, but don’t get your hopes up… That’s just how he’s been to you. You’re a close friend. His best girl friend. “Or not at all.”

= = =

“Hnggghhh… Huh..?” Despite feeling the irritating, inconvenient weight of her eye bags, as well as the unpleasant sensation of her parched throat, she opens them to find herself staring at a white ceiling.

Kotone wakes up on the snuggly surface of a bed that she has never lied on in her life, wrapped under a blanket. Inside, she slowly takes a peek of her own body—inducing a sigh of relief with what she has found. Her eyes wander around the room. She hears the door creak while it slowly opens. Her eyes light up in panic but she immediately catches a glimpse of Myungsoo’s face and his waving left hand from the other side as he walks in the bedroom with a mug of coffee. Of course, it’s him. There’s no escaping from this one. She places a nearby pillow on her face, muffling herself as she groans into the cushion.

“Good morn—” he quickly backtracks his choice of words, sensing the not too welcoming atmosphere inside his own room. Not to mention her perplexed face, from her eye bags to her slouched posture, and how she just acted after seeing him. “Or is it not a ‘good morning’ for you? We’re in my place, by the way, if you’re confused.”

“I’ve had worse… But this is a pretty nice bed. Great pillow too,” Kotone puts her right palm on her face, inevitably letting out a groan while her memories just had to remind her of last night. “God, that was really embarrassing of me…”

Myungsoo approaches the bed, sitting beside her. “This will help,” he hands over the mug, which she politely accepts with a slight bow.

“Thanks…” She blows it gently, before her lips touch the latte, welcoming the balance of bitter, sweet, and slightly salty taste entering her palate. “This is, uh, this is really good.”

He can’t help but chuckle, hoping that his lighthearted approach will lighten her up. “It’s from my go-to cafe… It’s just a three-minute walk from here. They’re pretty cheap, too.”

The woman takes another sip of the coffee, wanting to disrupt the silence between them while he waits for her.

“And, as embarrassing as it is,” he continues. “I think it’s not that uncommon to have moments like those. I would’ve brought up more memories myself too… But I think… We still have to talk about something about last night. If that’s fine with you…”

It’s time, she realizes. She places the cup on the nightstand.

“I, uhh, get what you mean, oppa. And, umm… I still mean it,” she tells him up front. “Whatever how you feel, that’ll be your feelings. I just…” She sighs. This shouldn’t be that dramatic, girl, she tells herself. “Confessed my own… And, I can’t take it back.”

He exhaled through his pursed lips. “Why take it back?” he shoots back.

“What?” Befuddled by his blunt response, she doesn’t know how to answer him.

But for Myungsoo, his heart isn’t lying. Neither is hers. “I’ve seen you as a friend for a long time, Kotone. But that doesn’t mean I never saw you as anything more than that.”

“What do you mean, Myungsoo?”

“I wasn’t sure because of how you and I acted whenever we're together… Maybe I was giving you too many mixed messages, ‘cause I kept holding myself back. Perhaps I was just scared that we'd lose everything we had if I said—or did anything funny... And with what happened last night, you were… A lot braver than I am.”

She let out a chuckle. He is not that different. Even he had his own hesitations.

“And with Yooyeon… Even she was bothered at times.” His hand clenches into a fist. “About us being close friends... But I know now, that's not on her. It’s on me. You were never a problem. I was being stubborn against myself, and I ended up breaking people’s hearts. I broke your heart, Kotone. I'm sorry because of that.”

In spite of their fifty-centimeter distance, Kotone doesn’t hesitate to hold his hand. “Don't blame yourself for everything, oppa.”

“I know, but sometimes, I still do. But I shouldn't be scared. And you made me realize that, Kotone... I’ve always treasured our friendship for what it was, but I'll always care about you more than that. Whatever we may be… I don't regret this.”

Dugeun, dugeun. Dugeun dugeun.

“I know it’s stupid to say it nowadays, but I’ve always seen you as a woman.”

His explanation makes her chortle, but such a reaction can't mask her true feelings.

“Myungsoo-oppa…” She stares at the man straight in his eyes. Such a patient yet longing and welcoming gaze from him is something she never thought she would ever get to see. She stands from her seat. “Would you… like to go out with me?”

He chuckles at her more or less act of formality. Instead of answering her with words, Myungsoo stands up and takes a few steps forward towards her, walking past the thin curtains of their friendship, and wraps his arms around the woman he’s been longing to embrace for a time only his beating heart can tell. Kotone tightens his embrace, closing her eyes. Both can only have a laugh, listening to each other’s heartbeats as if they’re headphones for only one ear, or a vibration speaker. He inches away, wanting to see her face.

Just as he expected. Her looking down on the floor, trying to cover up her blushing cheeks. “Yah… Why are you staring at me now?”

“Well, it’s…” He wants to tell her. Tell her an observation that he’s never told her before. “You look so cute… So beautiful... Just like that night. I mean, you always were. I’m sorry if I never got to tell you… I’m sorry it took me so long.”

With her lips shut in wonder, Kotone can’t shoot back a witty quip or begin another banter. This time, only her blushing cheeks and heartbeat answer to his straightforward praise. Not a teardrop is willing to leave her eyes once more, as today, her sense of triumph overcomes any other emotion.

“I’m sorry it took me so long, too,” she musters up to him. That weight on her heart begins to lift up, and it’s the best feeling she’s felt since their reunion.

Despite seeing her joy through her wide smile, Myungsoo senses her hesitation to move closer. He cups her cheeks, warming it up with his hands. Slowly, he pulls Kotone into his lips and tilts his head to the right. Their eyes close at the same time. He savors the sweet and bitter taste of the coffee from her lips, as well as the traces of the grapefruit soju in her mouth, as well as the scent of the fruity perfume he’s given to her. She gets a taste of his menthol toothpaste and a whiff of his aqua cologne; her hands hold on to his sloped shoulders. Feeling her body, his hands move over to her waist.

Their lips part for a second, albeit only to tilt their heads in the opposite direction before resuming their moment and intensifying it by pulling him closer, allowing her hands to clasp around him so they can savor each other’s touch more and feel each other longer.

= = =

The next one will definitely be a smut… I really gotta start writing shorter fics, lol. In the meantime, I'll keep reading and reblogging amazing fics from amazing writers, which I'm sure you're familiar with. As always, thanks for the read. 'til next time!

#male reader fluff #kpop au #kpop fluff #triples fluff #triples x reader #triples x male reader #kotone fluff

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 2 months ago

Note

I would like to humbly request any Genshin Pyro ladies of your choice warming up their S/O with their Visions.

(Genshin Impact) Amber, Xinyan, Dehya, Hu Tao, Yoimiya warming their S/O with their Vision

Amber knows how to warm S/O up!

She lights one of her arrows on fire light the fireplace, smiling proudly at herself.

(Amber) "Hah! I knew I should've tried that a long time ago!"

S/O chuckled, moving their seat closer as they turned to Amber.

(S/O) "You mean this is the first time you've tried it?"

(Amber) "My Vision keeps me warm usually, so I've never really had a need to!"

(S/O) "...Fair point."

Amber sat with S/O, snuggling closer to them, her smile growing bigger.

(S/O) "Thank you dear.~"

(Amber) "Hehe...! Want me to make you a baron bunny blanket?"

(S/O) "As long as it doesn't explode...wait, can you make something like that explode?"

(Amber) "I...dunno, actually. Hm, that sounds kinda cool!"

Xinyan's first move was to grab an extra blanket for S/O, like a normal person.

Until S/O spoke up.

(S/O) "Wait...can you use your vision to make it a little warmer?"

(Xinyan) "My visi-?...Now, why in the heck would I use my vision to warm ya up when I could just getcha 'nother layer?"

(S/O) "So you don't have to get up...!"

(Xinyan) "...Ya just wanna see if yer idea works, don'tcha?"

(S/O) "Would you say no if I said yes?"

Xinyan sighs and decides to tap into it, ever so slightly so she doesn't burn S/O and the rest of the house down.

And much to her own surprise, the warmth emanating from her body worked like a charm for S/O.

(Xinyan) "Well, I guess if it ain't dumb if it works..."

(S/O) "Hey, what better way to sleep off the cold with my very hot girlfriend?"

(Xinyan) "Did ya go the trouble of asking me just to make that dang pun?!"

Dehya wasn't surprised S/O was cold. Nights in the desert was unforgivingly frigid.

Even inside their tent and sleeping bags, S/O was shivering. Dehya meanwhile was relatively fine, surprising given the lack of clothes she normally wears.

Then again, she was used to this by now.

So, she scooted closer to S/O and used her vision to warm the tent up subtly, smiling once she saw their shivering stop.

(Dehya) "Much better, huh?"

She knew they couldn't hear her, so Dehya just kisses their cheek and rolls onto her back, smiling and falling asleep.

Dehya never thought her Vision could help with something so small, but now she was glad more than ever to have it.

Hu Tao just wants to give S/O a heart attack by shooting out a sudden flame.

(Hu Tao) "Cold? No you're not!-"

S/O yelps once a small flame shoots past them and onto the candle.

(S/O) "What the heck are you doing?! We're inside!"

(Hu Tao) "I know! That's why I did it!"

S/O sighed, shaking their head while Hu Tao simply laughed.

(S/O) "I swear...-"

(Hu Tao) "I'm not hearing a thank you, S/O!"

(S/O) "I'll thank you to not burn the house down, Hu Tao."

(Hu Tao) "Your welcome, I can do it any time!"

(S/O) sigh

Yoimiya used her Vision to light up her fireworks all the time!

But she never really thought about it using it like a heater at night, though that was mostly due to Inazuma's climate in general.

S/O was cold, them hogging the blanket being a telltale sign.

And so, Yoimiya knew what to do!

She closed her eyes and focused the power from her vision-

Accidentally setting off a firework that was outside rocketing into the sky and startling them both awake.

The power was a little too intense it seemed.

(S/O) "W-WHA?!...Ugh, Yoimiya...!-"

(Yoimiya) "H-Hey! I swear this time it wasn't on purpose! I just wanted to get you a little warmer!"

(S/O) "It's appreciated sweetie but...I thought you got all the fireworks put away."

(Yoimiya) "I...hah, guess I didn't...?"

S/O just rolled over and hugged Yoimiya tighter, a tired chuckle escaping their lips.

(S/O) "I think this can warm me up too."

(Yoimiya) "Hm...Yeah, I think I like this better too..."

Next time, she was triple check if there was anything outside that could be lit and prevent it from ruining her romantic moment!

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #amber genshin impact x reader #xinyan x reader #dehya x reader #hu tao x reader #yoimiya x reader #amber genshin impact #xinyan genshin impact #dehya genshin #hu tao genshin impact #yoimiya genshin impact

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ncillary · 4 months ago

Text

Self Aware AU (Xavier)

Summary: You have the lowest Affinity with Xavier. The reason is because you feel bad for the Queen MC and vow to play only the main story for his path so that you can find a way to return him to Queen MC safe, sound and happy end.

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Masterlist Self Aware AU

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| 1 [current] | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

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"Why you keep staring at your phone with that dull face?" Your friend asked.

"Huh? Oh? Nothing-"

"That otome game again?" Your friend perked up knowingly.

You nodded. Your friend gestured for you to just let out of what's on your mind. You sighed. It begun.

"I just... feel bad that I always stalled the Affinity progress with Xavier. I kinda need him for Battle and not that I don't enjoy the time with him. But... he.. I want a happy ending for him."

"Isn't being with you-"

"MC"

"-sigh- Isn't being with MC, still means YOUUU, means that you achieved it? It's the core of every otome game, right?"

"I get that. But! He has someone. The true one. Queen MC. THAT'S where HE belongs. I'll return him to her. No bargain or ANY sacrifice mambo jambo. I'll build Uluru just for their happiness. I swear."

"It's just a game. You just follow the story. If the developer did it any other way than you are forced to follow anyway. Not that you can exactly do anything about the story progress."

"Yeah... Knew that. Doesn't mean that it's not my deepest wish for Xavier and Queen MC to be happy together. My MC was made to support in any way possible."

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"Oh. A new event! Nice... Huh? Ohhhh no no no no no... First kiss! Arghhh... But the storyline is nice. Haa... ... ... bye Xavier, hope we can enjoy another fluffy limited 5* withOUT the heavy lover-indication. My MC is just your close companion." You smile before closing the game.

The LI assigned there at the time faded. A new blurry began to form until it revealed Xavier. Eyes closing as the pixels reform him to a complete 3D appearance. Fluttering open, he stared at the door, feeling the empty cafe.

"I'm here. Please see me. I want to see you more."

He slowly sat on the sofa and gradually fell asleep.

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Giggling. Feeling shaky slightly.

He stirred a bit.

Hushed voice, soothing, "Oh shoot. Sorry Xavier. Maybe I should turn off the gyro setting."

He blinked quickly and looked up. There she is. The MC. Unmoving. He quickly got up. Trying to step as close as he can to her but his feet could only settle a bit far from her unless he prompted the correct dialogue that let him get a breath away from the MC. He knew she was a proxy for the person behind the dark screen. Oh how he wished she would just reveal her face to him. But it's a good thing he at least got to hear your voice. The sound he wanted to touch the most everyday.

"Wow. You never get bored wearing that sweater. Guess it's that comfortable, huh. I get it. I hope you change to a better attire once the heat gets too much."

You're there. He can activate the prompt now.

"This is the Second Law of Cosmic Attraction."

He walked closer. Hearts thumping. Happy to be able to get closer to you. But his coded face wouldn't show how much he was actually grinning with glee.

"We'll meet those we yearn for again. No matter how long it takes."

His feet automatically dragged him back too soon for his liking.

"Hahahahaha... You and your Cosmic Law."

She proceeded to claim the Stamina for the morning. Quickly closing the game before he could prompt another dialogue.

His rigidness turned off. He could only move freely when you're not logging in.

"Dang. I should be faster next time. I hope I can force myself out this evening."

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"Haaa... It's already this late. Glad I have Free Retro this time. Huh? Xavier? This is not your usual appearance time. Oh no... Did our Affinity go up? -tap- -tap- -tap- huuu~ -tap- false alarm. Guess this is one of the rare occurrences. We'll... -yawn- m'nite Xavi-"

"I won't slip away today. I'll stay and chat with you for a while longer."

(Please stay. Please. Please. Please.)

"Hmmm... right... Weekly Plan... Didn't think finish yet. -tap- -tap-"

"When you spend your time with me. I'm spending my time with you."

(YES! YES! Go on! As long as you like!)

"Hmmm... Work... Study... Why can't there be just lounging around? We'll I'm off work. Study is better. Search all those recipes you want, Xavier."

He could hear her faint chuckling laced with tiredness.

"5 minutes-ah..."

He was sitting suddenly with MC in front of him. Studying.

"Oh to heck. 15 minutes it is. I'll just be quick and settle myself in."

He could hear walking. A light thump. Possibly she set the phone on a surface near her. Faucet running. Teeth brushing. Faucet running. Walking again. Switch sound. Lights off probably. Scrunching sound. Bluetooth connection on.

"Easier to hear that 'zwing' sound when it's complete. Let me just... haaa... release the tense of today."

He could hear you relaxing with an occasional pained sound. He got worried.

"Gosh. My shoulder is hurting. Maybe I should restock the pain relief patch tomorrow."

She breathed slowly. Slower. Barely there.

(...Is she...asleep?)

*zwing*

"Woah... I could move. And speak freely. Hahahaha... Your phone's gonna be out of juice soon. Hope you can wake up okay tomorrow."

Silent.

He cleared his throat.

"I can hear you. The real you. I'm real. Real like you. Queen MC is not you. I get it. But I want you. The real you. So please just increase our Affinity so that I can get a better control to reach out to you. I'll try to get to you too... ... ... I... ... like you."

Darkness plunged his consciousness. The battery must've died.

"I'll get to you."

A determined promise.

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| 1 [current] | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

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Masterlist of Self Aware AU

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#love and deepspace #xavier #self aware au #fanfic

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rekino2114 · 1 month ago

Note

Femal toji fushiguro and male reader raising a young Megumi and maybe Tsumiki

You and fem!toji raising your children

Pairing:fem!toji fushiguro/zenin x male reader

A/n:these are just a compilation of cute moments i thought about with that prompt

"Mama, I want cookies"

Toji turned away from the TV and saw little megumi standing outside of the door

"Huh? Didn't you already get one?"

"I want more"

"Sorry kid, but your papa's gonna kill me if he finds out I gave you sweets before bedtime. He says it makes you stay awake late or something"

Megumi pouted and put his tiny feet on the ground, trying his best to look angry

"I want cookies!"

"You can-"

"Cookies!Cookies!Cookies!cookies!-"

"What a brat! Just take them yourself"

".......I can't reach the shelf"

Toji looked at her son confused before erupting into laughter, causing megumi to pout even more and blush

"Sorry, sorry, alright do you need mama to carry you?'

Megumi nodded and hummed so his mother got up, stretched and ruffled his hair

"You're lucky I love you shorty, just don't tell papa"

"Yeah obviously"

"You're so young and already so sassy, I don't wanna see what you'll do as a teenager

She followed him to the kitchen and gave him a piggyback ride so that he could reach the shelf, grab the cookie jar and eat a cookie from it

"Are you satisfied now?"

"Yeah"

"What do we say when someone helped us get something?"

".......thanks mama"

"At least you learned something. Just don't tell papa"

"Don't tell papa what?"

Toji and megumi froze and turned to see tsumiki standing there

"B-big sis!?"

"Megumi, were you eating cookies? You know dad says we're not allowed to this late"

"N-no, of course not"

His sister narrowed her eyes and started at his lips who were full of chocolate chips

"You definitely were! I have to tell dad"

"N-no please"

"Don't, he's gonna make me sleep on the floor or something"

"Hmmmm, I guess I can not tell him.....if you give me a cookie too"

".....really?"

"I can call him right now if you-"

"Fine, alright here you go"

Toji sighed and grabbed tsumiki too, making her reach the same self and grab another cookie

"Yay! You're so strong mom, thanks!"

"Yeah, yeah whatever, you two are gonna be the death of me"

She held her two children's hands and led them to their bedroom as they giggled happily

"Mama whats wrong?"

Toji looked straight at megumi while still trying her best to undo the little suit you had put him in

"Nothing don't worry"

"Are you sure? You look really really angry"

"I told you not to worry, it's nothing a kid should be thinking about"

"But I'm a big boy"

"You can say that when you start to pay the bills"

"What are bills?"

"Just an adult thing"

".....alright"

When she finally finished changing megumi, the sorcerer killer went into the living room where she found you just having finished doing the same to tsumiki

"OK toji what's wrong?"

"Nothing"

"......toji...you've been acting weird ever since we came back from tsumiki's piano recital seriously what happened?"

"I told you it's nothing"

You sighed, she was clearly upset and practically did nothing to hide it, it was obvious something was wrong and you wanted to find out what

"Listen toji"

You sat down next to her and put your hand on her shoulder

"We're married, I know when you're mad, and you know you can tell me anything, I just want to know what's going on"

".....alright it's just something stupid though"

"I don't mind"

"A woman called me broke"

"......what?"

"We were going back home and I overheard her talking to a guy about me, must have been the parents of one of miki's classmates, they called me broke thinking I couldn't hear them, too bad I have really good hearing"

".....oh.....I see"

"I mean, just cause I'm not wearing fancy clothes you don't gotta call me poor, what a shitty thing to say"

"Yeah I get it.........you did wear the same shirt as yesterday though"

"It's just cause I don't have that many that are comfy and decent to wear outside"

"So you're not broke......just lazy"

"Sure am, and you knew that when you married me"

"I did, and it's one of the things I love about you"

You got closer to her face and saw that she was smiling now, you were happy to see her mood change

"You're way too sweet"

"Maybe, but I think you need some sweetness in your life"

"Can't say you're wrong"

Without warning, she wrapped her arms around you and kissed you on the lips. She then smirked and pulled you close to her chest with her strong grip. You were now fully cuddling

"Just don't kill them"

"Who do you think I am?"

"......you wanted to kill a teenager because he looked at you weird once as a kid"

".....it was one time"

"By the way, it was really nice of you to adopt those dogs"

"......Eh?"

"They're really cute, plus gumi loves them"

"......the hell are you talking about?"

".....you.....didn't adopt them"

"No, I'd have told you otherwise"

"Why didn't you say anything? megumi's always playing with them"

"What do you mean? I never saw him play with two dogs"

".......wait a sec.....you can't see them......does that mean......"

"......oh shit"

You quickly made your way to megumi's room where you saw him play with one of the aforementioned dogs

"...h-hey gumi.....where did you find those dogs exactly?"

"They appeared from the shadows"

".........what?"

"Look, one time I was playing shadow puppets with tsumiki and this happened"

He did a hand sign that resembled a dog's mouth and the other dog the pure white one appeared

".............y-you can't see them?"

".....I can sense them......fuck"

"L-language! Sorry gumi me and mama need to talk, you continue playing with them"

You and your wife walked outside of the room and looked at each other completely dumbfounded

"....holy shit our kid has the ten shadows technique"

"......I didn't tell you that could happen?"

"You told me he could have a technique.... NOT THE MOST POWERFUL ONE OF THE ZENIN CLAN!"

"Calm down babe, we got this"

"We do?"

"Yeah we can train him"

"I mean I guess but I'm not experienced in combat"

"And that's why i'm here, I'm gonna teach little gumi all the ropes"

".....fine just don't put him in danger"

"Of course, I'll try my best"

".....You're not that reassuring"

"Come on, we're amazing parents, and we'll be amazing teachers too"

You looked toji directly in the eyes and you knew she was confident about this, so you couldn't help but feel confident too

"......alright....I trust you"

"He'll have the best teachers"

".......can I ask him to pet the dogs though? They looked very cute"

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fairytsuk1 · 2 years ago

Text

looking glass | (s)

apart of the meet cute: gone wrong series, click here for more!

pairing: shoto todoroki x reader

words: 5.7k

prompt: "moving into a new apartment and realizing they can see directly into their neighbor’s window"

warnings: strangers to lovers, masturbation, mild pervert!todoroki, voyeurism, exhibitionism, fingering, kitchen sex, unprotected sex, alcohol

Shoto had decided to move. He had to get away from it all, and his only option post-college was to find an apartment where he could heal from all his trauma in peace. The moving-in process had been grand, Midoriya had come by, and he was always such a great friend. Even some ex-classmates had come by, with welcoming gifts or a helping hand. Even Bakugou had paid a visit with Kirishima, and the distance was starting to seem not so bad now that he was settled into his one-bedroom apartment.

Things were looking up! Job security, a new place, and lots of people to meet. It even felt a bit exciting. A new chapter.

“So you’re single?”

The apartment complex had its pitfalls, namely the single women that had spotted an attractive bachelor on their radar and were quick to bomb-rush him with questions. Was he single? Was he set to be married? Married in the past? Looking for that special someone?

An older woman, Miyako, had come with onigiri and many questions. Some bordered on creepy, but Todoroki had difficult time saying “go away” to people who didn’t deserve it. He’d come a long way from his teenage years; he had to be better now.

“I’m just going about life right now, er; I’ll let you know?”

Miyako looked thrilled to have caught Shoto’s attention, but it was beginning to feel embarrassing when he only wanted to take out the trash.

“Oh, that’s great! Believe me, my husband is always gone, so if I never need… help, I know how to find you!”

It seemed a bit distasteful that she’d tried lowering her eyes and rubbing her lips together as if he’d get with a married woman. Gosh, imagine the drama. Todoroki took a look around, and most people were leaving for work. He probably shouldn’t be seen with this lady like this.

“Yeah, I’m not exactly handy, though. Uhm, I hope it all works out,” and Todoroki's taking the tray from her hands, “and thank you for the onigiri.”

She follows his steps as he moves backward, “Oh, but are you sure you don’t need anything else?”

An angelic voice floats out from behind him. It’s the smoothest voice he’s ever heard.

“I’m sure he’s fine, Miyako!”

He was thankful someone had come to put this cougar to rest, but as he turned towards the sound of the voice… he thought he could hear bells in the distance. Have you always been living here? Are you a guardian angel striking a pose on Earth? Why hadn’t he gotten to see you earlier?

“Oh, I’m just checking up on him!”

She dares to pinch his cheek, and he can feel it grow warm under her manicured nails, “isn’t he so cute?”

“Soooo cute,” and you offer a small wave, “Hi there.”

He doesn’t take your lack of a compliment to heart, waving back and noting your name. It was pretty, and it fits you perfectly. So did the suit you were wearing, the blazer buttoned to accentuate curves, and you still managed to adorn yourself with gold jewelry without losing your air of professionalism.

“Well, I have to go,” Miyako rests a hand on his, whispering, “Enjoy the onigiri.”

“Thanks.”

She gives a pleasant goodbye to you, and you’re approaching closer as she walks away.

“Got caught by Miyako, huh?”

“Well, I guess. I was taking out my trash, and then she asked all these questions with the tray of onigiri; I couldn’t tell her to go away.”

“You should! She goes after nearly every bachelor that moves here but don’t try it. I’ve seen too many guys get beaten to a pulp by her husband; it’s a dangerous game.”

“Oh, oh no. I wasn’t going to–”

“I didn’t think you would,” and you have the confidence to give him a wink, “you just moved here a couple weeks ago, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m apartment 438. Where are you?”

“Oh, just across from the other side, but there’s never any parking over there! I really am only over here for work,” you gesture to yourself with a small shrug, “law firm.”

Ah, so that’s the reason for the briefcase. He gives a small smile in return. Has he been nervous this entire time?

“Well, government job. So, we’re in the same boat.”

“Hah! I guess so. If you’re ever in trouble, then call me! Unless it’s something pretty bad, I just do real estate stuff.”

“Real estate?”

“You don’t have to pretend to be interested in it! But it’s not bad, not like you think.”

“No, I wasn’t lying. I could never go through law school; that’s very admirable.”

He’s pleased that your cheeks lift unconsciously, murmuring a “thank you.”

The two of you linger in the presence of each other for a minute or two longer, but it feels like ages as the breeze brushes past the two of you under the sun's warmth. You’re the first to break, sighing and offering your hand, “I’ve gotta go, but it was so nice to meet you!”

Your hand is soft, not scarred like his that came from years of working out and being rougher in his younger years. Electricity raves through his veins when you give him a firm shake.

“Yes, you too. Have a good day at work,” he feels his cheeks burn unconsciously at the statement, fingers curling around the onigiri like a lifeline.

“I’ll need it!”

He tries not to watch you get into your gray Toyota, so he busies himself with inspecting the gift he was given till he hears your engine rev. The last look he gives you wasn’t meant to feel like he was yearning to talk to you more, but he’s afraid it does when he catches your eye, and you only smile.

The apartment is cozy, but as he eats his onigiri, he wonders if you’d want to share some with him sometime.

“I’m getting too wrapped up in this,” he mumbles at the small island in his kitchen, “I’ve got to get to work.”

It’s a slow work day.

“A lady? Who’d you meet? That’s great, Todoroki!”

Midoriya blabbers eagerly to him over the phone, having to catch up on each other’s lives, “Yeah, she saved me from some old lady. She was hitting on me.”

“An old woman!? Wow, was she the one who gave you onigiri?”

“Yup.”

“Wow! Gosh, I can’t believe it! I mean, didn’t you say she was married?! That’s just crazy, Todoroki. I don’t know what I’d do!”

“She was not going to leave me alone,” he stirs a pot of marinara sauce lazily, “but everyone here is very nice.”

He doesn’t say your name, but he means you.

“Mhm, that’s good. Uraraka and I have been good. We’re looking at buying a house!”

“Right, how’s that going?”

He’s able to lose himself in the conversation and dinner-making. It’s peaceful; it feels like home. His lights are low, which adds to the lighting, and he can’t help but feel lonely. Usually, at home, he’d smell the soft perfume of his mother or the sizzle of food from Fuyumi.

Todoroki tried to put the lost memories out of his mind. Midoriya was here, and he supposed that was never a sad thing.

“Sounds like you guys have a plan,” the sauce is nearly done, and he finally takes a second to rest against the counter, “I think it’s going to go great. I can always help you with moving when the time comes.”

“Thank you so much! I think we’re pretty steady on what we wanna do….”

It only takes a flickering gaze around the room to cause Todoroki to be shaken to his core. He ended up with a nice balcony in his apartment and opted for curtains during move-in.

This time though, this evening, he’d left them wide open. Wide open and exposed directly to your apartment. You were not only inside but walking around half-naked.

“Todoroki?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Oh! I was just saying would you prefer gray walls or white ones? We still can’t decide.”

Picking up your living room is a menial task to you, but not to the man drooling over how you bend over and how your panties outline the plush fat of your ass. White panties with lace.

“...White is good, maybe a bit off-white.”

“That’s what I was thinking!”

The sauce starts to boil over, “shit!”

“Is everything okay?”

He’s got his phone trapped between his shoulder and ear, rushing to turn down the heat and making quick glances at the sliding doors, “Yeah! Yeah, everything’s fine. My dinner’s ready; I have to go.”

“Okay! Hope it’s super good; talk to you later! Bye.”

“Yup, thanks. Bye.”

The phone is slid away on the counter, the sauce is lowered to a medium-low, and his eyes are finally free to enjoy the show that’s been stirring guilt and arousal in his gut. You look good. More than good, so good that he can’t be bothered to turn away in shame. He’s locked in, and you have no idea what you’re doing as your prance around your living room.

You’re just cleaning up. No big deal, but it feels like something is watching your every movement. It only clicks once you reach the sliding glass door to see Todoroki’s “empty” apartment gazing back at you. It makes sense now; you must’ve been putting on a grand show for him while doing your chores.

Something in your brain whispers an idea to you. One that makes you want to go “Eureka!”

It’s a bad idea, an awful idea, to not shut the curtains. However… How often do you get to tease an attractive man? How often do you get to enthrall someone in your figure, your body? It’s an awful idea to turn around and take a nice long stretch down to your toes, but you don’t care.

Maybe he’s imagining filling you up or getting off to the fact that you think he’s not watching. The thought strangely excites you. Sure, it’s immoral, but the fact that eyes are tracking your every curve and committing them to memory is so alluring. You’re definitely going to use your vibrator later.

Todoroki’s hard in his sweatpants; the indentation is practically obscene. A flush spreads through his body, making him unbearably hot. There’s a weird other being inside him that wants to march over to your door and fuck you till you love him. But… he’s being a creep. You’d be scared, uncomfortable! He would never in a million years try to do something to you, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t drink in a long look at your plump ass practically in his face.

But then you do something unexpected; you turn around. Todoroki's reflexes are fast, and the minute your leg bends, he’s acutely aware that if he doesn’t move, he’s going to get caught! Two-toned hair dives towards the floor, the thump definitely irritating his downstairs neighbors as he crawls till he’s behind his sofa and safely able to peer his eyes around the arm.

You look askance like you’re waiting to see something. Todoroki watches you wait a minute more before stepping forward and swiftly tugging the curtains shut. The show’s over, but his cock is still hard in his boxers, and Todoroki thinks it might be time for a shower.

He fists his cock needily under the warm water, breathing your name in soft exhales as he works himself to the end. The cum splatters lewdly against the tiles, and he’s shocked to find his knees weak. What were you doing to him?

Neither of you sees each other again for a while. Your work takes up so much of your time, and your heart withers watching the daylight pass by in your office. Todoroki has been busy, too, he’s closer to the heart of the city, and the daily commute has worn him thin. It’s exhausting, and the two of you are not even the slightest bit excited to read the flier posted up on your doors.

[SHIKETSU COMPLEX MONTHLY BARBECUE AND PICNIC!]

Todoroki’s eyes are assaulted by the bright colors that jump out at him. There are many reasons not to go. He is so tired, Miyako might be there, he doesn’t know anyone like that, he has no kids, he doesn’t know how to barbecue…

His mind keeps circling back to you like a train stuck in a loop on the track. It’s unbelievable that he’s rationalizing attending this event just because he thinks you might be there. You probably won’t go; why would you? You’re way too busy. He tries to convince himself to walk back to the apartment as he makes his way to the barbecue. You won’t be there; he’s an idiot.

Yet there you are, under the hot sun shining in a warm yellow sundress that contrasts your brown skin beautifully. You’ve adorned yourself with gold jewelry again. His heart flutters in his chest. Todoroki can’t believe he’s there and that you were there too.

“Hello, handsome,” you smile warmly as he approaches a picnic table with pre-made potato salad, “did you make this?”

“Huh? Hello, and I-uh, well,” he’s unsure whether to lie or tell the truth, “I don’t know!”

He’s lucky he’s handsome because you laugh lightly and point to the artichoke dip, “Honestly, I don’t know if I made that either,” and then you’re humming with a warm hand on his shoulder, “unless you’re a secret housewife, no one cares that the bachelor doesn’t know how to cook.”

“Is that really my nickname?”

“To some, yeah. Especially Miyako; I swear she’s been trying to scout you out from when you arrived. She’s here with her husband and kids too! She has no shame.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty weird. How have you been, by the way?”

There’s a clear elephant in the room to him; he can’t get your body out of his head. His senses go haywire every time you move, flashing a show of skin. Hopefully, you have no idea.

“Oh, good! Good, just working. I haven’t seen you around often these days; early commute?”

“Mhm, it takes up a lot of time. I don’t mind being in the city, but it’s hard to come back home and do it all over again,” he smiles warmly, “I feel jealous of you.”

“Oh, trust me, once you’re spending long hours in an office and leaving when the sun’s down, you won’t be saying that anymore!”

It’s just a friendly neighbor chat, but it comes so easily for the two of you. It’s not like you guys are chatting for the second time ever, but as if you’ve been friends for years, getting caught up in reminiscing. You launch the dice, scoring snake eyes.

“Hey, I know you mentioned you weren’t too handy the last time we talked, but how are you with electronics? Televisions?”

“I-I used to live in a dorm, so I know a little. Is something wrong?”

“My tv has been having connective issues! I don’t know what the problem is, but I was hoping you might be able to come and look at it whenever you’re free.”

He’s being baited like a shark; he knows this too well. It’s an extremely attractive olive branch. At this point, it’s not even a branch but a whole Garden of Eden planted by you for him. He can’t wait to bite the apple.

Todoroki nods genially, “Of course, I can take a quick look at it. No promises if I don’t know what to do; I’m not an expert.”

You’re sipping your cocktail with a coy look, “I’m sure you’re an expert in other things. If you watch something enough, you’ll eventually pick it up.”

The comment makes Todoroki go stock still, eyes blown out and face deadly pale as you shrug up at him. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but you’re waltzing away to engage with some of the mothers. That had to be a dig; you had to know what he did that evening. Maybe inviting him over was a plot to kill him for being a spying creep.

Then there’s the chance that you… liked it. It feels impossible to even consider that option, but it was clear that you weren’t exactly mad. You would’ve confronted him straight away; he’s sure of that. So, what was he to do? Pretend to be innocent? Tell you that he thought you were extremely beautiful and sexy, so much so that he watched you through your window while you weren’t wearing clothes?

A man offers him a beer; Togami, he says. Todoroki is left to sip the acrid drink and ponder whether he should skip town.

You keep looking at him, and you know the other moms are starting to notice your wandering eye fixated on the lone wolf. Aka, a mother of two, grins eagerly, “See something you like? Ah, young love!”

“It’s not young love. We’ve barely talked, Aka.”

Mayumi chimes in, “Really? It looks like he wants to talk to you; every time you look away, he looks back at you!”

“Are you being serious? You guys are crazy; nothing is going on!”

They’re swirling around you like viper snakes. Their lives are so consumed by their children that they see themselves in you, and they’re poking and prodding like you’re their next do-over, “Why don’t you talk to him?”

“I actually did, Mayumi,” you shrug, “it was good! Nothing crazy, not like how I know you guys are thinking. What dirty minds!”

Obviously, the mothers were gossipy, but you wonder if maybe he needed an extra push. Due to your line of work, you were familiar with pushing someone right till they crack like an egg. You’d left him looking like a sorrowful puppy, and the alcoholic drinks were brewing fiercely in your tummy. Liquid courage runs through you, and you set your margarita down to smooth out your dress.

Maybe they were right; maybe you should do something. Prod him a bit.

“I’m going to be right back,” you mumble to the gaggle of women that debate the current happenings of Ema, a new mom that entered the block and seemed desperate to wreak havoc. You’d met her, and she was actually quite nice.

But that’s not the point. No, you’re straightening your posture and sauntering over with a sway of your hips. You were going to do this.

Your eyes are locked onto Todoroki’s figure as you confidently walk towards him, “Todoroki! Are you getting ready to head out?”

He gives you a small nod, looking around before nudging you, “It looks about time. Are you?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I am. I’m looking forward to just straight-up relaxing.”

“Right,” and he seems to be brimming with liquid confidence as well because he offers, “Do you want me to walk you back?”

It feels weird to be asked that; it’s not a direct question but an offering. Despite that, though, there’s a feeling bubbling underneath the surface. Both of you know that you could give in right here and now, forgo the traditional courting and go straight to fucking like wild animals.

“Gladly, thank you,” he follows with you leading the way, “I think you fit in well.”

“Huh?”

“I said, I think you fit in well. In the neighborhood, you really round it all out. Plus, everyone likes you.”

“Not everyone,” his face tinges pink, so cute.

“Yeah, yeah,” stopping at the steps to my door, you shrug at him, “Do you want to come inside for a second?”

It’s another checkpoint. Another moment that makes one pause and think, “Is this it?” Another moment Todoroki barrels through, eagerly accepting the invitation and kicking his shoes off at the front of your home.

He seems to really take in your apartment as you scurry to make a polite pot of tea. Heterochromatic eyes sweep over the large glass doors; he doesn’t hide his open gawking. You tug your bottom lip between your teeth while pouring boiling water over tea leaves, “I take it to mean you like my apartment?”

“Like? I-I mean, it’s….”

Todoroki trails off, honing in on the pictures on the mantle.

“It’s very homely,” he turns back to look at you, smiling softly, “It looks great.”

“Ah, thank you. Tea?”

The man gladly takes it, and you can feel the lingering warmth of his comments as you chit-chat. You wonder what he’s thinking; his curiosity is on full display. You could come up with a few ideas. Before you know it, Todoroki is checking his watch and giving you a straight face.

“It’s getting late,” his cheeks twitch to a frown before remaining neutral, “but it was really nice to spend time together.”

Does everything he says have romantic undertones? You nod, covering your flushing cheeks with a hand before an idea strikes you. It slips out on accident; you didn’t mean for it to come out, really!

“I agree,” and the bomb drops, “I’d expect a great view from your window tonight.”

Your eyes flicker to his darkly. He’s swallowing, staring at you like a piece of meat as you lay the trap out for him. Neither of you says anything; what should you say? One of you could be bold, could prompt a kiss or more, but you don’t. Todoroki gives a light laugh, gathering his things with a lingering hand ghosting the small of your back as you escort him out.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs lowly, and you think you could kiss him.

“Goodnight!” the door locks with a click.

Todoroki sits patiently like it's a movie theater where he's waiting for his favorite film. It’s dazzling how the curtains peel back to show your partially clothed body facing away from the glass. You only have the kitchen light on, illuminating your soft curves and tan skin better than any ring light could. Todoroki sits in the darkness, not wanting to be seen but to watch. To be an active audience member as his hand trails down to grip and stroke his cock.

Swaying your hips, Todoroki finally gets a glimpse of your sweet face. It’s different from earlier. It was much more innocent before, truly the girl next door type. But this, this? You were something absolutely out of this world; he noted it in the way your eyelids lowered as you salaciously gripped your vibrator or even the way your lingerie left nothing to the imagination.

“Fuck…” he spoke to the quiet air.

He couldn’t hear you, but it was enough to see you. Starting slowly by groping your chest, nipples peeking through the lace of your bra as his eyes continuously dip down to your pussy. Covered, but if he squinted, Todoroki thought he could see your wetness starting to soak through.

You moan, hips twitching as you tug your nipple a bit harsher than the last time. Soft lips part to breathe as a hand snakes down the valley between your breasts and down the slope of your stomach. Manicured nails stop at the waistband of your panties; your eyes seem to search across the darkness for the sight of your lover boy. For a second, you think you see a turquoise eye in the darkness as your fingers make quick work on your clit.

You both know you’re staring right at each other, and neither can look away as your hands cover themselves in slickness and arousal. It’s heady and so risky with such open windows, and yet your orgasms are driving you toward the edge faster than you’ve ever felt before.

“God, I wish I could feel you,” Todoroki groans, thumb rubbing the slit and feeling his abs tighten, “I need you.”

“Oh god, I’m gonna cum Todoroki,” you pant into the open air, squirming and fucking yourself on your fingers and toy.

It comes all at once, spurting onto the web of his thumb and fingers as Todoroki cums to your wriggling form. It overwhelms you, too, body arching and seemingly bursting with pleasure when you reach your peak. You both came quicker than expected, your legs falling closed as you steadied your breathing. Even under the low light, the clear droplets of your arousal staining the carpet makes Todoroki’s balls ache.

You’ve won again. You’ve once again captured the heart and dick of Shoto Todoroki, and he can feel the feelings ruminating inside him as you playfully clean up your living room. His eyes track your figure like he’ll forget you the minute he blinks. This can’t go on any longer; both of you know this. But then you’re drawing the curtains, and the show ends.

By the evening, Todoroki sets a plan to get exactly what he wants. And you’re none the wiser.

It’s been a while since the two of you had crossed paths. Your work has stolen your energy, leaving you to come home exhausted and weary every day. Normally you’d perk up at seeing the boy you’d come to feel warmth for if you even caught him, but his life seemed to be getting in the way. He always kept his curtains closed these days.

Then, you notice it on your day off, cozy in a sweatsuit with a mug of steaming coffee. The curtains are open, which leaves his apartment looking like a ghost town. It’s been a moment since you’ve seen the light filter in like that since you’ve felt that familiar feeling brewing at the bottom of your stomach.

Your body sits on the plush couch, sipping your drink and waiting patiently. You’re giddy as Todoroki walks into view. The show is about to start, and unlike you, he’s making sure to give an eyeful. He’s never looked more confident; in fact, he’s never put himself on display like this.

Was he really doing this all for you?

The thought is forgotten as a black t-shirt is peeled off to show rippling muscles and brown nipples that pebbled as he rubbed over his chest. He was carved to perfection, maybe by God himself. Todoroki starts slow, blunt nails scratching lightly over his pecs, down his abs, and stopping at the band of his sweatpants.

He looks up at you through his bangs and your pussy throbs. The man flicks his hair back, hand gliding and palming his cock over the thick fabric. Todoroki must’ve already worked himself up, you note as you watch his half-hard cock create a sizable imprint in his sweats.

You’re biting your lip, trying not to reach down and touch yourself. He looks so enticing. Part of you wants to jump up and break down his door, pulling him into a sharp kiss as he…

Todoroki moans behind the glass, head tilting back as his Adam’s apple bobs. You can’t see exactly what he’s doing, but it’s enough to make you feel… hot. Almost angry, he had the nerve to touch himself in front of you yet play shy when you were face to face. If he was going to be so bold as to unashamedly stroke himself, you’d be even bolder by darting up out of your seat and running out the front door.

You miss his smirk as he pulls on his shirt and waits for the piercing sound of your knuckles rapping against the door. After a moment, he hears it and steadily opens it with a teasing smile.

“Hello,” he greets casually, despite the erection straining the front of his pants.

Neither of you can wait anymore as you nearly tackle him with a kiss. He easily holds you, big hands cupping your waist and pawing at your ass. It’s desperate; it’s passionate. Todoroki grunts as his back hits his kitchen island, “do you wanna do this right now?”

“I don’t think I can wait,” your lips graze over him, “I know you need me.”

Todoroki pulls you closer till his leg slides between yours. The small motion makes you lose focus at the delicious pressure against your clit; your arms delicately wind around his broad shoulders as he bruises your lips with another kiss.

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” he murmurs, spit slicking his lips.

His tongue, pink and sweet, glides over yours like butter. The two of you fight to win, each trying to usurp the power of the other and take control. You scratch against his back, Todoroki presses his leg against your soaked pussy, and your hand sneaks down to squeeze his cock that soaks pre-cum into his boxers.

At some point, it goes from a battle to simply indulging in the good feelings. Saliva pools in your mouth as you dry-hump each other like animals. Whimpers echo in the air, but he caves first.

“Wait,” he pauses, chest heaving and lips glossy, “let me…”

The small of your back meets the counter before Todoroki captures your lips in another kiss. He’s grown confident, fingers cradling your wrist and hands fondling your tits.

“Ah! Todoroki,” your body melts easily into his palm, “take me, god. I’ve been waiting long enough.”

“Have you? I think I’ve waited for longer,” his teeth graze over the curve of your neck, “you started it.”

His hands expertly sneak up your shirt within minutes; it makes you wonder what else he’s hiding from you. Your fingers curl into his hair easily. Tugging lightly, the pleasure and blushed face of the man before you made your core throb.

“Then let me finish it,” you murmur softly, hand sliding down to his sweatpants.

“Mhm,” the two of you stare at each other as your hand slides past the cotton barriers to touch smooth, hot skin.

Then, his eyes look blown out, and his hands are spinning you around so fast you nearly get whiplash. Excitement shakes through your body like bursting fireworks as you help tug down your bottoms.

Large hands eagerly spread your ass, Todoroki watching your hole clench and drip arousal down your thigh. His mouth instinctually waters, and his knees want to give in. You would taste so sweet. Todoroki can’t keep his eyes off your drooling pussy. You’re mewling, though, impatient as a thumb runs over your slit before rubbing tight circles against your clit, “You’re so beautiful.”

He slips a finger in, leaving your words choked and broken, “T-thank you.”

“Of course, baby,” he hopes the nickname lands, “oh, you liked that.”

It’s embarrassing to hear the squelch of his fingers inside you. You clench easily at his motions when he flicks his fingers up harshly or calls you such sweet names. Even he chuckles at your obvious arousal.

“Shut the hell up…!

You still squeak as he fingers your cunt. His fingers are reaching spots that even yours couldn’t; it feels so good. One hand of his keeps you pinned by the small of your back while the other eagerly reveals the wet and clicking sounds of your pussy.

“I wouldn’t be so rude.”

The smack against your ass makes stars burst behind your eyes. You could cum like this in minutes.

“Please, Todoroki,” you weakly beg for mercy, needing nothing more than to feel the primal thrusts of him fucking his cum into you.

“Fuck,” he breathes into your neck, “I need to fuck you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you do,” breathless, you go up on your tiptoes, “Please fuck me, Todoroki.”

He hadn’t even prompted you to beg, yet you acted perfectly like his own awaiting toy. Todoroki can’t line himself up against you fast enough, blunt head pressing against your needy hole while you try to breathe through the inevitable stretch.

You were prepared well. The stretch of his cock as he slowly slides into you feels like magic, and you’re keening like you’re in heat. It’s hot, overwhelming, it smells like his apartment, and he was balls deep inside of you.

“Aah, fuck,” his voice warbles, fingers leaving clear prints on your rounded hips.

“So good, god, so good!”

There’s a soft “pap” when his hips meet yours, but then he’s immediately diving into both of your pleasures. He dials in with thrusts, shaking you and churning your insides while you can only grab for purchase against the counter.

It leaves you breathless, and you’re squeezing like a vice around him as he pumps in and out of you. It’s a delicious rhythm; the push and pull are so terribly addicting that you can feel the swirl of your orgasm at the pit of your stomach.

“You’re squeezing me so tight; gonna cum? Gonna cum all over my cock?”

You babble nonsensically as he reaches around to rub your clit. His hands slip over your clit, but he can see your manicured toes curling as he makes you succumb to him.

“Todoroki, Todoroki! I’m cumming–oh god, I-I’m cumming!”

For a minute, everything goes blank. As if you’ve been flashbang.

“Good girl,” Todoroki whispers in the shell of his ear as he chases his own pleasure, “You’re so good for me.”

It crashes down onto you hard. Your entire body trembles, muscles locking up as you cum hard, creaming on him as he watches in awe. Todoroki releases a heavy groan as he finally fills you. It’s white-hot, and he heaves over you. His heavy body completely smothers you in a way that feels reassuring. In a way that feels loving.

The two of you lay still in the post-coital glow, catching your breaths and murmuring soft words. “Let me get you a tissue,” he says as he kisses your shoulder.

You’re unsure why your heart aches as he cleans up your tender pussy and picks up your bottoms.

“Hey, you know I….”

Todoroki raises an eyebrow as you trail off.

“I’m not that kind of woman,” you say with an air of finality, “just so you know.”

The man before you blinks before giving you a genuine smile.

“I never thought you were.”

You leave soon after, giving him a sweet kiss and quickly bounding to your apartment. In the evening, Todoroki catches you crossing your living room. You pause, smiling, before blowing a kiss and shutting the blinds.

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