#is there something you would like to share with the class

[yukkiji]

angel

when the boy who always calls you "angel" refuses to admit his feelings, you're left with no choice but to say yes to someone else—forcing him to realize too late that losing you was never part of the game.

blue lock masterlist. leave a little stardust on my ko-fi

starring. nagi seishiro x fem!reader ft. mikage reo

genre: fluff, romance, mild angst, cupid!reo, reo is stressed, nagi's so dense

wc: 10.3k

author's note: this was actually supposed to be written in full on angst but i decided to change the plot and might still post the full on nagi angst hehe

you first met nagi seishiro through your best friend, mikage reo — hakuho high school’s golden boy.

if there was anyone who could juggle soccer captaincy, straight a’s, an overflowing social life, and still find time to tease you before homeroom, it was reo. he had the kind of smile that made people trust him too easily and the kind of confidence that made teachers both adore and resent him.

everyone adored him.

but you never did — not like that.

you and reo had known each other since you were five, since he’d tried to share his pudding at daycare and got it smeared across his designer uniform when you slapped it away. from then on, it was chaos and camaraderie, late-night calls for math homework, popcorn fights during cram sessions, and long car rides in the mikage family limo with your knees knocking under shared blankets.

you were like siblings — something even reo’s fangirls at school refused to believe.

“why would i date reo?” you’d asked once, horrified. “that’s like dating my cousin.”

reo, overhearing it from across the hall, only shrugged. “that’s her way of saying i’m the more attractive one.”

it was all harmless teasing — always had been.

but then came him.

the day reo introduced you to nagi, you had no expectations. you were just tagging along to another of his after-practice hangouts, this time near the gym’s side benches, where he said a “new recruit” was waiting.

you weren’t prepared for the tall, white-haired boy who barely spared you a glance when you arrived.

“this is nagi seishiro,” reo had said with a proud grin, clapping a hand on the stranger’s shoulder. “monster on the field. zero social skills. doesn’t care about anything except games.”

nagi looked up from his phone — not because he wanted to, but because reo had nudged him. his eyes were dull, like nothing around him sparked much interest. the only life in him came from the game lighting up his screen.

reo gestured to you. “this is angel.”

you blinked. “excuse me—”

“it’s what i call her. don’t question it.”

nagi’s gaze lingered for a second. “angel, huh.”

his voice was flat, disinterested. but oddly enough… he repeated the name like it mattered.

that was all he said before looking back down at his phone.

you’d never met someone so unimpressed with the world.

and yet—somehow—you found yourself drawn to him anyway.

maybe it was the way he moved like everything was too much trouble, yet still found his way next to you. or maybe it was the quiet comfort of his presence, how even in silence, he never made you feel alone. there was something hypnotic about his stillness. as if chaos couldn’t touch him—and when you were around him, it couldn’t touch you either.

it started subtly.

nagi never called you by your name. just angel.

not once had he asked if it was okay. he just picked it up the way someone picks up a new favorite song—without effort, without question. it was like a default setting in his brain. automatic. natural. like he couldn’t imagine calling you anything else.

it didn’t help, though. not when he kept giving you mixed signals.

nagi might’ve looked distracted all the time, his gaze often glued to his phone or drifting to the clouds during class—but he always paid attention to you. he remembered the details you told him: your favorite snack during exam season, the exact way you liked your tea, the movie you wanted to watch next. once, you’d casually mentioned how your feet always got cold in the library, and the next time you studied together, he brought an extra pair of fuzzy socks like it was no big deal.

he didn’t say much. never did. but he showed up in ways that made your heart ache.

like the way he’d always wander over to you after hours of football practice, the sky fading pink above hakuho high’s rooftop or the sun casting long shadows on the back field. sweaty and slow-moving, he’d drop his duffle bag beside you with a grunt, flopping onto the grass like gravity had finally won.

sometimes he’d tug at your sleeve in that lazy, silent way of asking for attention—head resting on your thigh as if it were the most obvious pillow in the world. no warning. no asking. just trust.

and you always let him.

you’d card your fingers through his soft white hair, and he’d hum, quiet and content, almost like a cat purring. the world seemed to dull when he was like that—when his breathing evened out and his body melted into yours like he belonged there.

sometimes, he’d shift closer, burying his face into the crook of your neck, voice barely a whisper.

“sleepy, angel.”

just two words. but you’d feel them for hours after.

you’d sit there frozen, breath caught in your throat, heart thundering like it was trying to break out of your ribs. and he—unbothered, eyes half-lidded and heavy—would fall asleep to the sound of your racing pulse.

he didn’t realize what he was doing to you. or maybe he did. you could never really tell.

because when the sun dipped low enough, and the rest of the team started filing out, nagi would lift his head, yawn, and walk off like nothing happened. like he hadn’t just cracked your heart open with one word, one look, one casual lean into your shoulder.

it wasn’t fair—how someone so unattached could still have that kind of power over you.

it wasn’t fair that you started hoping he’d do it again.

because every time he touched you like that—every time he called you angel in that soft, half-asleep tone—it felt like a dream you weren’t allowed to wake up from.

and yet, you never stopped waiting for the next time.

oh, but it didn’t stop with lazy afternoons and fleeting moments of closeness. not even close.

there were other moments—quieter ones, tucked between school and soccer practice, when it was just you, reo, and nagi heading off-campus for food. reo would always act like he was treating royalty, leading you both with swagger and flair, his platinum card practically flashing in the sunlight.

he’d announce, “my treat, obviously,” before you even stepped into the restaurant. mikage reo: hakuho high’s golden boy, heir to the building you were sitting in, and yet still the same loud, dramatic idiot you grew up with.

but your focus was never on him.

because nagi, without fail, would always slide into the seat beside you. even if reo sat next to you first, nagi would stand there, towering, blinking once before saying, “move.” and reo—used to his antics—would just sigh and scoot without complaint.

he didn’t even try to hide it anymore.

and every time nagi settled beside you, your heart did that stupid thing again—tripped over itself, stumbled into your ribs, and reminded you that you were already too far gone.

it always happened the same way.

you’d be mid-bite or mid-conversation when suddenly, his fingers would find yours beneath the table. not a brush. not an accidental touch. a full-on interlock. as if your hand was made to fit into his.

sometimes, his grip was light, absent-minded—his thumb rubbing lazy circles against your palm while he focused on his rice bowl. sometimes, it was firmer, grounding. like he needed to hold on to something, and for some reason, that something was always you.

one time, he caught your hand before you could even sit down, pulling it into his lap casually.

“your hand’s warm,” he murmured, eyes half-lidded with that usual drowsy calm. “and soft.”

like it was the most obvious observation in the world. like it meant nothing.

but it didn’t mean nothing to you.

it never did.

because every time he said something like that—quiet and thoughtless, like a dream slipping through your fingers—it burrowed deeper into your heart. and left you wondering: does he even know what he’s doing to me?

across the table, reo would catch your eye with a smirk.

he’d rest his chin in his hand, grinning like a fox. “you two should just date already,” he’d say one afternoon, loud enough for nagi to hear.

you choked on your drink.

nagi didn’t even flinch. “too much work,” he replied without missing a beat—but his grip on your hand didn’t loosen.

your stomach twisted. and reo? he looked at you knowingly, as if he could see the spiral in your mind before you even admitted it to yourself.

you wanted to believe there was something there. that the touches meant something. that the nickname wasn’t just a habit. that the way he leaned into your shoulder and closed his eyes wasn’t just comfort—it was you.

but nagi never said anything.

and you were too scared to ask.

because what if it really was just who he was? what if the closeness you treasured so deeply… wasn’t special to him at all?

you hated how much the uncertainty hurt. hated how you still looked for his name on your phone screen. hated how your heart reacted to every small thing he did—like it hadn’t learned how to protect itself.

because no matter how casual he made it seem… holding nagi’s hand always felt like the closest thing to home.

and maybe that was the most dangerous part.

because when something starts to feel like home, you forget it was never promised to you. you start expecting it—counting on it—imagining things that were never said out loud. you start building a future in the quiet spaces between words he never meant for you to read into.

you told yourself you were fine with the silence. that you could live in the in-between. but your heart knew better. it ached louder every time nagi pulled you a little closer… and said nothing at all.

so now—suffocating in feelings you never meant to have—you were sprawled like a corpse on the oversized couch in reo’s ridiculous penthouse living room.

hakuho high’s golden boy, born with a silver spoon and a rooftop garden, was currently snacking on something that cost more than your weekly lunch allowance and watching you fall apart with the patience of someone used to your drama.

“fuck it!” you screamed into one of his designer pillows, muffled but heartfelt. “i hate him. i hate his stupid hair, and his lazy slouch, and the way he breathes like the world is boring and calls me angel like he didn’t just short-circuit my entire central nervous system.”

reo didn’t even flinch. “so,” he said casually, tossing another popcorn kernel into his mouth, “you’re saying you’re fine.”

you let out a long, wounded groan into the cushions. “you ruined my life, mikage.”

“oh, is that what i did?” he said, utterly unfazed. “you were so normal before nagi, huh? always emotionally stable, never crying over how ‘his voice sounds like fresh snow falling on a winter night.’”

your head snapped up. “i never said that.”

he smirked. “you did. last week. when he called you at midnight to ask what time practice was and you replayed the voicemail six times.”

your cheeks burned. “that’s… not the point!”

“no, you’re right. the point is, i introduced you two. i should get matchmaking royalties.”

you sat up, dramatically throwing off his fancy blanket. “you should’ve never introduced him to me, reo!”

reo gave you a shit-eating grin. “why? because he’s hot, mysterious, emotionally unavailable, and clearly soft for you? yeah, sorry. that’s on me.”

you groaned and flopped back onto the couch. “he’s not soft for me.”

“oh, right. my bad,” he said, mock-serious. “he just randomly holds your hand during lunch, naps with his head in your lap, and only calls you angel. totally meaningless.”

“it feels meaningless when he never says anything about it!”

reo got up, made his way to the mini fridge, and tossed you a can of something carbonated and unnecessarily expensive. “sei’s weird,” he said, plopping back into his seat. “he doesn’t talk much, but he doesn’t exactly do all that with everyone.”

you cracked open the drink and took a long sip, sighing. “i feel like i’m going insane.”

“no, this is just karma for every time you made fun of me in middle school when i had a crush.”

you threw a cushion at him.

he caught it easily. “look. you and nagi? it’s a slow burn. like, glacial. like, two rocks eroding in a riverbed over several centuries.”

you gave him a look. “you’re not helping.”

“i am helping,” he said smugly. “i’m listening to your crisis, offering top-tier beverages, and reminding you that he called you angel during conditioning drills, which means even when he’s sweating to death, you’re still on his mind.”

you paused. “you think?”

reo leaned back, his expression softer now. “i know.”

you stared at the ceiling. “then why hasn’t he said anything? why hasn’t he… done anything?”

reo hesitated for a beat, then shrugged. “he probably doesn’t know what he’s feeling yet.”

you blinked. “how do you not know you like someone?”

reo looked at you knowingly. “have you met nagi?”

“…fair.”

the two of you sat in silence for a bit, the city lights from the floor-to-ceiling windows spilling across the marble floors. the penthouse was too fancy, too big—but in this moment, it felt oddly safe.

then, quietly, you said, “i think i like him.”

reo didn’t tease you that night. he just smiled—crooked and quiet—and let the weight of your words settle in the silence between you.

“yeah,” he said. “i know.”

and for one brief moment, you felt lighter. like something in your chest had finally been named, and now you could breathe around it.

but that peace didn’t last.

because after that night at his penthouse, reo didn’t just return to being your best friend.

he became your personal tormentor.

not in the mean-spirited way—not really. but in that classic mikage reo fashion, he took your emotional meltdown, filed it under “important best friend information,” and proceeded to use it for sport.

subtle at first.

a comment here. a smirk there.

“your boyfriend’s under the tree again,” he’d say casually during soccer practice, flinging his towel over his shoulder and pointing across the field with his chin. “probably waiting for you to come fan him or something.”

you didn’t even bother responding the first few times. but reo? he thrived on reactions. so the quieter you were, the more relentless he became.

“he’s literally using your hoodie as a pillow right now,” he snorted during one break. “what is he, a stray cat? did you feed him once and now he won’t leave?”

you tried to ignore him, really, you did.

but it was hard to play it cool when nagi seishiro—cool, aloof, half-asleep nagi—kept gravitating toward you like you were the only person on the planet worth orbiting.

when he’d wander over during water breaks, barely say anything, and drop to the grass beside you with a heavy sigh.

when he’d tug at the hem of your sleeve like a child, muttering, “move a little, angel,” so he could comfortably lay his head on your lap.

the first time he did it, you froze.

you had no idea what to do with your hands, with your face, with the ridiculous tempo your heart had launched into.

and when he nuzzled into the crook of your neck and whispered, “warm. ‘m comfy here,” you were sure you’d ascended into another dimension.

reo, from several feet away, didn’t miss a beat.

“are you serious right now?” he called out, deadpan. “you’re using her as a human mattress? sei, we’re in the middle of practice.”

nagi, eyes still closed, responded with a half-lidded shrug. “we’re on break.”

reo turned to you, hands on hips like a disappointed parent. “why do you let him do that?”

you glared at him. “do i look like i can stop him?”

reo opened his mouth, then paused, expression flickering to something amused and oddly fond. “you don’t, actually. which is kinda impressive.”

from then on, he only got worse.

during lunch, he made a habit of sliding nagi’s bento closer to you before anyone sat down.

“feed him,” reo would say, like a waiter taking your order. “or he won’t eat. apparently your hands make everything taste better.”

nagi, seated beside you like it was law, didn’t even look up from his game.

“true,” he said flatly, holding out his chopsticks expectantly. “angel feeds me better.”

your face combusted.

reo nearly fell off his seat from laughing.

and somehow—somehow—this became routine.

if nagi didn’t get to sit next to you, he’d just drag his chair over. if you were holding your phone, he’d take it and lean against your shoulder while scrolling aimlessly. if you were quiet, he’d lean into you, cheek against your hair, and murmur, “tell me something. i like hearing your voice.”

every small thing turned sacred. every tiny touch set you on fire.

and reo? he stoked the flames.

it was like living in a dream you weren’t allowed to name. a day-by-day slow-burn that left you suspended in something warm and fragile. you didn’t know if nagi meant any of it the way you hoped he did. he never said anything. never changed his expression. just kept calling you angel and reaching for you like you belonged to him.

and the worst part?

you kept letting him.

you wanted to believe it meant something.

you needed to believe it did.

but the not-knowing—it festered. the what-ifs, the maybe-he-does, maybe-he-doesn’t… they turned every smile into a battlefield, every silence into a storm.

you didn’t realize how exhausted you were from hoping until it all came to a head on a regular, sleepy afternoon at hakuho high.

the sky was bluer than usual. the breeze was soft. you had a bottle of your favorite drink in hand after a long lecture, your thoughts drifting—mostly about how quiet nagi had been lately. distant, even.

you were behind the gym, just starting to unscrew the cap of your drink, when someone approached you.

“hey.”

you blinked up, surprised. he was a third-year—tall, broad-shouldered, sharp features softened by the slight smile he wore. you recognized him vaguely. vice-captain of the basketball team. the type girls whispered about in the corridors.

“i know this is sudden,” he started, scratching the back of his neck, “but… are you dating nagi seishiro?”

your grip tightened around your drink. the question hit harder than it should have.

you blinked. “huh?”

“you guys are always together,” he said, shrugging. “it kinda looks like it. i didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes, so i figured i’d ask first.”

you didn’t know how to answer.

because no—he never asked you out. but yes—he held your hand like it meant something. he napped on your lap. called you angel. looked for you in crowds.

but that wasn’t love, was it? at least… not the kind that gets voiced.

so you shook your head.

“no,” you said softly. “we’re not.”

the word sat heavy on your tongue, like something bitter you were finally forced to swallow. even saying it aloud—confirming that there was nothing between you and nagi—hurt more than you thought it would.

the boy blinked, surprised. “oh. then… reo?”

you blinked back, caught off guard. “what?”

he laughed nervously, raising both hands in surrender. “sorry—just, the way you and mikage always bicker. i figured maybe you two were, you know… childhood friends-to-lovers or whatever.”

you stared at him like he’d just grown a second head.

then came the deadpan: “heck no.”

it was more disgust than denial, and it left your mouth before you could filter it.

the guy laughed again—this time, genuinely. “alright, alright. just checking.”

you rolled your eyes, cheeks flushing. “reo’s like… my brother. that would be disgusting.”

“that clears things up.” he smiled, easing a little. “then… maybe we could go for coffee this weekend?”

there was a pause.

and then, before you could give yourself a reason not to, you nodded.

“sure,” you said. “why not?”

it wasn’t a confession.

it wasn’t a first kiss.

but it was the first time you admitted—if only to yourself—that maybe you couldn’t wait around for nagi forever.

what you didn’t know, standing there in the soft shadow of the school gym, was that someone had seen the entire thing. from the moment the boy asked if you were dating nagi, down to the way you wrinkled your nose at the mention of reo.

and that someone’s stomach dropped like a stone.

because while you were saying no…

nagi was across the path—hearing every word like it was a slap to the face.

he didn’t stick around to hear your answer to the guy’s next question. he didn’t want to. couldn’t. something in him recoiled the moment he saw you standing there—with him—smiling the way you usually smiled at him.

he walked away, fast and quiet.

the weight of his limbs was heavier than usual. his hoodie felt too warm against his skin, and his hands stayed shoved deep into the pockets like he was trying to bury the strange, twisting ache crawling up his chest.

he went back to the soccer field, eyes blank, lips pressed into a line.

he didn’t speak.

didn’t even look at reo when the other boy offered him a water bottle.

he just stood in the grass, shoulders stiff, waiting for the whistle to blow.

why would he feel like this?

you can date who you want. you’re your own person. you always were.

and besides—you were right.

you two weren’t together.

you weren’t his girlfriend.

you were just… his angel.

his nap partner. his hand to hold. his favorite seat under the sakura tree after a long day of classes. the one who laughed at his flat jokes. the one who listened even when he didn’t respond. the one he could always find in the stands, no matter how far away.

his… friend.

that’s all it was, right?

just a friend.

so why did the idea of someone else having your attention—the thought of you laughing at someone else’s bad jokes, someone else’s hand holding yours—make his throat tighten like this?

why did he feel like his chest was full of static?

why did practice suddenly feel impossible to focus on?

why did everything burn?

he was nagi seishiro—apathetic, unbothered, uninterested in everything except convenience and quiet. he didn’t do emotions. didn’t care about people.

and yet…

why?

why did it feel like he was about to lose something he didn’t even realize he was holding?

the thought wouldn’t leave him alone.

it echoed in his head, over and over, louder than the screech of cleats against the turf, louder than the whistle, louder than reo yelling plays from the opposite end of the field.

you’d said it so clearly. so easily.

“no, we’re not.”

you weren’t lying. but something in your voice—he couldn't forget it. it didn’t sound like relief. it sounded like… surrender.

why did that hurt so damn much?

he pressed forward in the scrimmage, a pass skimming just past his foot because he moved a second too late. his reflexes were off. his instincts dulled. the field felt too narrow. his jersey clung to his back. the usual lightness in his body was gone, replaced by a heavy, dragging weight he couldn’t shake.

he missed another pass.

and another.

he shoved his hands into his hair in frustration, growling quietly, “tch.”

a few teammates stared. they didn’t say anything, but the tension rippled.

nagi didn’t care.

no, that was a lie.

he did care.

that was the worst part.

for the first time in a long time, he cared too much and didn’t know how to handle it.

across the field, reo watched carefully.

he had known nagi since first year. knew the way his best friend moved, the tempo of his rhythm on the field, the lazy but calculated precision of his mind. he’d watched nagi play sick, play exhausted, even play pissed off—and still look good doing it.

but this?

this wasn’t the usual indifference.

this wasn’t fatigue.

this was nagi unraveling.

quietly. subtly. but painfully.

he could see it in the way nagi’s shoulders stiffened with every misstep. the way his hands balled into fists whenever the ball rolled too far. the way he didn’t even look toward the bleachers—where you usually sat watching, sometimes waving, always smiling.

you weren’t there today.

and reo had a feeling nagi knew exactly why.

but the worst part? he didn’t do anything about it.

not the next day.

not the day after that.

not even when your eyes lingered on him longer than necessary—waiting, hoping, hurting.

instead, nagi distanced himself.

no explanation. no text. no lazy “angel” in the hallway, no sudden weight of his head on your shoulder like he used to do after class. he didn’t take the seat next to you during lunch anymore, even when reo subtly saved it. he didn’t offer you sips of his convenience store soda, or absentmindedly thread your fingers with his under the cafeteria table.

it was as if someone had pressed pause on everything that felt safe and familiar.

and you noticed. of course you noticed.

how could you not?

the boy who once made you feel like the center of his world was now acting like you barely existed in it.

you tried to brush it off at first—told yourself he was just tired from soccer, or spacing out like he always did, or maybe he just needed time. you knew nagi could be… detached. aloof. he was never the type to chase or cling. that was just how he was.

but this? this was different.

he wasn’t just distracted.

he was avoiding you.

the realization settled in your chest like a weight you couldn’t shake off, especially when reo—your oldest friend, your partner in chaos since grade school—confirmed the one thing you dreaded to hear.

it was late in the afternoon when it happened. you were at the mikage penthouse again, your designated post-school escape on days that felt too heavy. you were lying on your back, legs tossed over the armrest of reo’s imported italian couch, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

reo was scrolling through his phone beside you, one socked foot pressed against your shin lazily. the room was quiet except for the faint hum of the central air and the occasional clink of ice in your untouched drinks.

“he knows the vice captain asked you out.”

your stomach dropped.

you turned your head slowly toward reo, your voice barely above a whisper. “nagi?”

reo nodded, still scrolling. “he was nearby when it happened. didn’t say anything, but i saw his face after. he walked back to the field like he was ready to murder someone.”

you sat up fully now, heart pounding. “is that why he’s been avoiding me?”

reo sighed like it physically pained him to deal with the emotional incompetence of his best friend. “most likely. i mean, it’s either that or he suddenly forgot how to function around people—which, okay, is also a possibility with him.”

you swallowed, the pieces falling into place too fast for comfort. “but… why would he avoid me?”

reo finally looked at you, his expression unreadable for once.

the teasing had fallen from his features like snow off a rooftop—quiet, unexpected. his voice, when he finally spoke, came soft but firm.

“because he’s a dumbass.”

you blinked. “i—what?”

he raised an eyebrow at you, like he couldn’t believe he had to spell it out.

“he likes you, idiot.”

the words hit you harder than they should have.

they knocked the air out of your lungs and left you staring at reo like he’d just casually told you gravity stopped working.

“i—” your mouth opened, then shut again. you shook your head. “no. no, he doesn’t.”

reo let out a slow breath, dragging a hand through his perfectly styled hair. “yes, he does. he just doesn’t realize it the way you want him to yet. that doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

you frowned, your voice quieter now. “then why is he avoiding me?”

reo studied you carefully. “because he’s never felt this kind of thing before. he’s confused. freaked out, probably. and when sei gets overwhelmed, he doesn’t push forward—he hides. retreats.”

you looked away, your fingers curling into the hem of your sweater. “it hurts.”

reo’s gaze softened. “i know. and it’s killing me watching both of you act like this when it’s so obvious you mean the world to each other.”

you sighed, slumping back against the couch cushions. your heart felt heavy, bruised in a way that wasn’t physical. like something was wilting inside your chest—soft and unseen, but so achingly present. “what do i do, reo?”

he didn’t answer right away. for once, he wasn’t being theatrical or smug. no exaggerated hand gestures or sarcastic comments. just silence, and a look in his eyes that said he was weighing his words carefully.

finally, reo spoke. his voice was gentler than you expected.

“i’m not playing favorites here, but… you already did your part.”

you blinked. “what?”

“i mean, come on,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “you like him. you know it. i know it. hell, half of hakuho probably knows it. you’ve shown him in every way that counts. it’s not your responsibility to make him see that he likes you back.”

your lips parted slightly, but no sound came out.

reo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, gaze fixed on yours. “sei’s not good with emotions. he feels things, yeah—but he doesn’t always know what he’s feeling. he zones out, pulls away, avoids it like it’s a hard level in a game he doesn’t want to clear.”

your heart stung. “then what if he never clears it?”

“then that’s on him,” reo said, and there was no hesitation in his voice this time. “not you. you’ve been patient. you’ve been honest, even if you haven’t said the exact words. if he lets you walk away without realizing what you mean to him… that’s his loss.”

the words echoed in your chest, louder than you wanted them to.

because deep down, you didn’t want to walk away. not even a little. not even when he made you feel invisible. but reo was right—loving someone didn’t mean setting yourself on fire to light their path. and maybe… maybe it was time nagi realized that.

you closed your eyes, trying to blink away the sting behind your lashes. “i hate this.”

reo offered a soft laugh and nudged your knee with his. “i know. love sucks sometimes. especially when it comes with a six-foot-tall emotional brick wall.”

you cracked a smile, just barely. “thanks for the reminder.”

he grinned. “anytime, angel.”

and despite the ache still lodged somewhere in your ribs, his words settled into your heart like a gentle promise.

that no matter how messy this all became, you weren’t completely alone in it.

reo was there—annoying, overconfident, occasionally too invested—but always in your corner. he never let you spiral too far without yanking you back with a half-serious joke or a reality check disguised as sarcasm. and knowing that… made breathing a little easier.

you stayed in his penthouse longer than you meant to that night. he made you tea without asking, switched the mood lighting to a calmer tone, and played some playlist he called “healing for the emotionally exhausted.” you didn’t even have the energy to roll your eyes.

you stared out the window while the city lights blinked back at you like stars—distant and quiet. your thoughts drifted again to nagi. to the way his hair fell into his eyes when he leaned over his phone. the weight of his head when he laid it in your lap after practice. the warmth in his voice when he murmured, “sleepy, angel.”

you clutched a pillow to your chest and sank deeper into reo’s velvet couch.

had it always been this one-sided?

or was nagi really just scared?

you didn’t know.

but tomorrow… you were going to try. even if it wasn’t with him.

then the day of the date came.

you didn’t wear anything flashy—just your usual clothes with a touch more care. hair brushed out, light gloss on your lips, perfume you knew reo teased you about for being too sweet. you stared at yourself in the mirror longer than usual before heading out, trying to convince yourself this was fine. normal. just a simple afternoon. just… something new.

the vice captain was already waiting near the front gates of hakuho, dressed neatly in the school’s after-hours uniform with a pleasant, easy smile. he wasn’t nagi. his energy was steadier, more grounded. not sleepy or unpredictable—but warm in his own right.

he greeted you with a polite, “you look nice,” and offered to carry your bag.

you smiled. tried to mean it.

but something in your chest tugged.

you walked to the nearby café together, talked about classes, mutual friends, upcoming tournaments. he was kind. charming, even. you knew girls at school talked about him a lot—and it wasn’t hard to see why. he was attentive without being overbearing, curious about your thoughts, laughing easily at your jokes.

but it wasn’t nagi’s laugh. it wasn’t nagi’s quiet stare. it wasn’t nagi at all.

and the vice captain could see it.

maybe not immediately—but somewhere between you pushing food around your plate and your gaze flickering toward the glass windows every time a white-haired figure passed, he figured it out.

he set his drink down gently and leaned back.

“you still like him, don’t you?”

you froze. the words landed softly, not like a confrontation, but like an observation. a truth laid bare.

you looked at your half-eaten dessert, then slowly nodded. “yeah,” you whispered. “i think i always have.”

he chuckled—low and not bitter. just amused in a tired sort of way.

“well,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “i kinda figured when you spent the first ten minutes watching the sidewalk instead of me.”

your cheeks flushed. “i’m sorry—”

“don’t be.” he held up a hand, waving it off with a smile. “seriously. i knew what i was walking into. guess i hoped maybe you’d give me a chance to make you forget him.”

you looked at him—really looked at him—and saw no resentment in his expression. just understanding.

“i really appreciate that you still came,” he added. “even knowing your heart’s kind of… already somewhere else.”

you swallowed around the lump in your throat and nodded. “thank you. for being kind.”

he smiled. “he better realize what he has before someone else does.”

and somewhere across the city, under the molten streaks of the setting sun, nagi seishiro was pacing the length of hakuho high’s empty soccer field. the sky above him glowed in soft orange and deep violet, but he didn’t look up once. his feet dragged across the turf like his body was moving on its own—slow, heavy, as if weighed down by something he couldn’t shake off.

reo’s voice still echoed in his mind, sharp and impossible to ignore.

"you feel something, don’t you?"

nagi hadn’t answered. he didn’t know how. because how do you name a feeling you’ve never bothered to understand?

he wasn’t built for messy emotions. he preferred ease—predictable gameplay, soft pillows, long naps. but you? you weren’t easy. you were the one variable he hadn’t figured out. the one thing that made his chest ache when you smiled and made his head go silent when you laughed. he didn’t understand it. didn’t try to.

not until he saw it.

that day.

you were standing behind the gym, light bouncing off your hair as you spoke to the vice captain. nagi hadn’t meant to linger. he was just walking by—heading to grab a juice box or waste a few more minutes before practice.

but then the vice captain asked you something. and nagi stopped.

“are you dating nagi seishiro?”

it was a simple question, harmless to anyone else. but to nagi, it sounded like a pin being pulled from a grenade. his steps faltered. he didn’t turn around, didn’t breathe too loudly, just stood half-hidden behind the wall’s edge, frozen like a bug caught in amber.

you hesitated. just for a beat.

then your answer came, soft and unsteady. “no. we’re not.”

and nagi couldn’t explain why that answer—the very truth he’d never had the guts to change—felt like a sucker punch to the chest.

he left before he could hear what came next. because in his chest, a feeling he’d spent months ignoring had finally started screaming. and it didn’t sound like indifference. it sounded like jealousy. like regret.

and maybe—just maybe—like heartbreak.

he never knew your answer.

not from you.

but by the time lunch ended and the hallways quieted, he didn’t have to.

whispers chased him like ghosts—fragments of your name laced with quiet gasps and knowing smirks.

“she said yes.” “to the vice captain, right?” “she finally gave up on nagi, huh?”

each word chipped at something inside him. something he'd never named, never dared to look at too closely.

and now it was bleeding through the cracks.

practice came like muscle memory. but there was no rhythm. no focus. his passes were too hard. his touches too sharp. a snap in his movements that wasn’t like him. he missed a shot he’d normally sink with his eyes closed.

reo said his name—twice, maybe three times—but nagi didn’t answer.

eventually, they left him there. even reo.

the sun dipped lower, dragging shadows across the field, and still, nagi didn’t move. his limbs sprawled carelessly across the grass, as if exhaustion had pinned him down and frustration had tied the knot. he stared at the sky, expression unreadable, fingers tangled in blades of green.

everything felt wrong. off.

his chest was tight again, like it had been all day. like he’d swallowed something too big, and now it wouldn’t leave.

she said yes. to someone else.

the thought circled like a vulture.

you found him alone on the soccer field, long after the others had packed up and left.

the lights from the school building flickered faintly in the distance, casting long shadows across the grass where nagi lay stretched out like a boy made of bone-deep exhaustion. his jersey clung to his skin, a streak of sweat running down his temple. his eyes, however, were still wide open—staring up at the sky like it could answer the ache twisting in his chest.

he didn’t look at you when you approached. but you saw the way his hand twitched in the grass. like he knew you were coming.

“nagi.”

your voice didn’t tremble, but it came out quieter than you’d expected. you stood above him for a moment, waiting, hoping—but he didn’t respond.

you slowly sat beside him, knees drawn up to your chest, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve.

“i said yes,” you said after a long silence, eyes on the horizon. “to someone else.”

he didn’t move. but his jaw shifted, the tiniest tick beneath his cheekbone.

“i said yes to a date because i was tired of wondering what this was,” you continued, voice starting to shake despite your best efforts. “tired of waiting for you to say something. anything.”

still nothing. only the sound of distant cicadas and the dull thud of your heartbeat in your ears.

“do you even remember what you said the day we met?” you asked quietly. “you didn’t say my name once. just called me angel. like it was automatic. like it didn’t matter who i was, just that i was there.”

you laughed bitterly under your breath, your fingers clenching. “i tried not to let it mean anything. i tried not to hope. but then you’d rest your head on my shoulder and whisper like i was your safe place. you’d hold my hand and tell me it was soft, warm. you made me feel like i was… something.”

your breath hitched. you turned to face him fully, and finally—finally—nagi turned his head to look at you.

his expression was unreadable. but you could see it—the fear just beneath the surface. the conflict. the guilt.

your voice cracked when you spoke again. “do you like me, nagi?”

the question hung between you like smoke.

he blinked. once. then again. and slowly, he sat up, arms bracing behind him.

“i don’t know,” he said.

your chest caved in.

it wasn’t anger that flared in you. it was heartbreak. the slow, sinking realization that the boy you wanted so badly didn’t even know if he wanted you back.

“you don’t know,” you repeated, breathless, eyes burning.

he looked away, fingers digging into the grass. “it’s not that simple.”

“it is,” you said, voice shaking harder now. “it is that simple. you either feel something for me or you don’t. and if you don’t, that’s okay—” your voice broke. “—but you can’t keep treating me like i’m your world if you can’t even figure out your own heart.”

nagi’s head snapped back toward you, eyes wide, as if your words had physically struck him.

“you can’t nuzzle into my neck and fall asleep on my lap and whisper ‘angel’ like i’m the only one who matters—and then say you don’t know. that’s not fair.”

he opened his mouth, but no words came out.

you took a shaky step back. “i let myself believe you did. i let myself fall for you—slowly, painfully. every time you remembered the little things i said, every time you showed up even in your quiet way, i thought maybe…”

you trailed off, swallowing hard. “but you never said it. you never gave me anything real to hold on to. and now i’m the idiot who said yes to someone else, but all i can think about is you.”

he was silent. still. his silver hair caught in the breeze, eyes locked on yours like he wanted to say something—needed to—but couldn’t bring himself to cross that threshold.

you shook your head, blinking fast. “i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep waiting for someone who doesn’t even know if he wants me.”

you turned.

and this time, nagi didn’t stop you.

but as your figure disappeared across the field—shoulders trembling, arms wrapped tightly around yourself—something inside him cracked like ice splitting under too much weight.

and for the first time, nagi seishiro wasn’t sure if he was tired… or if this was the first time he was finally awake.

because something in your voice had snapped him out of the haze he’d been living in—the gentle fog of comfort he’d built around himself like a second skin. you were gone now, walking away from him, and yet your words still echoed in his ears louder than any stadium ever had.

you can’t treat me like i’m your world if you don’t even know your own heart.

it rang like a siren in his skull.

the soccer field felt too open after that. too wide. too cold. his limbs buzzed with restless energy he didn’t know what to do with. so he moved on instinct, feet dragging him away from the grass and the guilt and the silence you left behind.

the next time he blinked, he was standing in front of reo’s building.

the mikage tower—an architectural flex of polished glass and inherited legacy—loomed above him like a monolith. nagi hadn’t even realized where he was heading until the security at the front recognized him and let him through wordlessly, like he belonged there. maybe he did. he came here often enough. but today, the elevator ride felt different. the music sounded too sharp. the walls too reflective. he could see himself in them—eyes unfocused, jaw clenched tight.

by the time he reached the penthouse, the door was already swinging open.

reo looked like he’d been expecting him.

“figured you’d show up eventually,” reo said, arms crossed loosely over his chest, eyes sweeping over nagi with a familiar, no-bullshit expression. “you looked like you were about to combust during practice.”

nagi walked past him in silence, dropping onto the nearest couch like a sack of limbs. he stared at the ceiling as if the answers might be etched into the marble tiles.

reo shut the door and followed, sitting across from him. “so… you wanna talk?”

“no,” nagi muttered.

reo leaned back, exhaling through his nose. “alright. you wanna sulk here until you rot into the cushions, then?”

“maybe.”

silence stretched between them, thick and electric.

then nagi spoke again, voice low, like he hated even admitting it. “she went on the date.”

reo blinked. “you mean you let her go on the date.”

nagi’s eyes narrowed. “i didn’t let her do anything. she can do what she wants.”

“she wanted you, dumbass,” reo snapped, sitting forward now, arms braced on his knees. “she waited—waited—for you to pull your head out of your ass. you were the one who kept acting like she mattered and then saying nothing.”

nagi ran a hand down his face, dragging his palm over his eyes like he could rub the thoughts away. “i didn’t know i liked her.”

reo scoffed. “you knew. you just didn’t realize that’s what it was. you’ve never cared about anyone like that before, so you didn’t recognize it.”

“i felt…” nagi trailed off, words catching in his throat. “like something was ripping out of me when i saw him ask her. i wanted to hit something. or sleep forever. i didn’t like it.”

“that’s what jealousy feels like, sei,” reo said quietly. “that’s what heartbreak feels like when you’re too late.”

nagi let his head fall back, a low groan rumbling from his chest. “she said she liked me. and i told her… i told her i don’t know.”

reo stared at him like he’d just confessed to committing a felony.

“the fuck?” he hissed, dragging a hand through his already-mussed hair. “why did you say i don’t know, idiot?”

“i panicked,” nagi muttered, his voice flat and low, like he hated himself for it. “she was standing there, looking at me like—like i meant something, and i just… froze.”

reo scoffed, launching himself off the couch to pace across the penthouse. “unbelievable. you—you lay in her lap. you call her angel. you hold her hand like it’s the only thing grounding you to this planet and then when she finally tells you she likes you, you give her i don’t know?”

“i didn’t mean to,” nagi said, scrubbing a palm over his face again. “i didn’t think she liked me like that. i didn’t know i felt that way—until she walked away.”

“bullshit,” reo snapped, rounding back to face him. “you knew. you’ve always known. you just didn’t want to know because then you’d actually have to do something about it.”

nagi flinched at that.

reo’s voice softened just a little. “you think i didn’t notice? the way you’d act around her? you’re not subtle, man. you’d go quiet when she laughed with someone else. you’d light up when she brought you those caramel milk drinks from the vending machine. you’d look at her like she was the only goddamn person in a world full of people you couldn’t be bothered to care about.”

nagi’s throat worked around something thick. he stared down at his hands like they were foreign to him. “i didn’t know i could feel like that,” he murmured. “i didn’t think i was built for it.”

reo sighed again, slower this time, and sat back down beside him. “no one is. not really. but when it’s her… when it’s someone like her… you figure it out. or you lose her.”

and that—that—was what scared nagi the most.

he could sleep through classes. he could ignore most people. he could drift through life half-awake.

but the idea of you walking away for good? that terrified him more than he knew how to admit.

because it wasn’t indifference he felt.

it wasn’t confusion.

it was love.

and now—he might’ve already been too late.

you hadn’t spoken to him since the last time he left you with nothing but silence. three days had passed, and the distance between you and nagi had grown so vast, it may as well have been oceans. not a glance. not a breath shared. not even the subtle magnetic pull that used to hum beneath your skin whenever he was near.

it was like he had vanished.

or worse—you had learned how to exist without him.

you didn’t yell. you didn’t pout. you didn’t cry. but you also didn’t smile when he passed by. you didn’t look up when he walked into the room. and if you were forced to stand within arm’s reach, like during practice or at lunch, you kept yourself composed with a sort of numb grace that cut him deeper than any outburst ever could.

he had never known how much he craved your attention until it was gone.

and now, here he was—locked inside the clubroom with you because reo, fed up with watching you both suffer in silence, decided to take matters into his own hands.

the door slammed shut behind you. a soft metallic click confirmed it was locked.

“reo?” you said sharply, turning back.

“i’m not opening it,” came reo’s smug reply from the other side. “not until you idiots talk. or make out. either one.”

“reo!” you growled, rushing to the handle. it didn’t budge. “this isn’t funny!”

“not meant to be,” he said. “consider this an intervention. figure it out. i’ll be back… eventually.”

and then his footsteps faded.

you stood frozen for a moment, facing the door, before you slowly turned to face the boy across the room.

nagi stood by the windows, bathed in fading sunlight, his white hair catching every bit of golden glow like a halo. but he didn’t look like an angel. not now. he looked exhausted. haunted. like someone still trying to understand why the hell his chest wouldn’t stop aching.

he didn’t look at you.

so you stayed by the door, arms crossed. a wall of silence stretched between you, heavy and brittle, ready to snap.

“say something,” you finally muttered, your voice tired, your throat sore from swallowing your feelings for days.

he flinched. you didn’t miss it.

“i didn’t ask him to do this,” he said quietly.

“but you’re not stopping it either.”

another silence.

you took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “then let’s get it over with.”

he finally turned. his eyes met yours.

“i didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said.

you laughed—but it wasn’t amused. it was hollow. “but you did.”

he stepped forward, cautious. “when i said i didn’t know… it wasn’t because i don’t feel anything.”

you narrowed your eyes, but said nothing.

“it was because i felt too much,” he admitted, voice quieter now, almost like he was afraid it would break if he raised it any higher. “i didn’t know what to do with it.”

“and what, you thought silence would make it better?”

“no,” he whispered. “i thought if i said it out loud, it’d ruin everything. i was scared.”

you blinked at him, your heart aching all over again. “scared of what? that i’d say it back?”

he opened his mouth, then closed it. his jaw clenched.

“i liked it,” you said, voice cracking. “the attention. the nicknames. you holding my hand. laying on my lap. acting like i was the only person who mattered. i liked it—because i liked you. but you don’t get to do all that and then tell me you don’t know.”

you weren’t yelling. you weren’t crying. but your pain filled every word.

“you don’t get to act like i’m your whole world, nagi, if you don’t even know what i am to you.”

that landed like a punch to the gut.

he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. his voice was low, almost hoarse. “i do know now.”

you didn’t move.

he took another step. “i know i’m stupid. that i missed the moment i should’ve told you. that i let you walk away.”

still, you didn’t say a word.

“i thought i was okay with being your friend,” he whispered, gaze dropping to the floor. “until i saw someone else try to be more.”

he looked up then, and his eyes held the kind of desperation that only comes when you realize something too late.

“i heard people talking. saying you said yes. that you were going out with him. and i swear—my chest hurt so bad i couldn’t even breathe.”

you finally moved. just barely. your fingers curled into the hem of your shirt, grounding yourself.

“i don’t want to be just your almost,” you said.

he froze.

“i don’t want to keep waiting for maybes. i confessed, and you froze. and that told me everything i needed to know.”

“i was wrong,” he said. “i was scared. but i’m not anymore.”

you looked at him, eyes searching. “then prove it.”

the silence that followed wasn’t awkward.

it was thick—full of history, full of missed chances, full of every time he called you angel like it meant everything and nothing all at once. nagi stood there like he’d been thrown into the eye of a storm he created, a thousand unsaid words flashing behind those pale lashes and sleepy eyes.

but there was nothing sleepy about the way he looked at you now.

slowly, like the weight of your words had finally dragged him back to earth, he took a step toward you. his gaze dropped briefly to your lips, then back to your eyes, checking—once, twice, maybe even a third time—for hesitation.

there was none.

so when he reached out, his fingers brushing the side of your face, it felt like the world tilted. his touch was tentative at first, like you were made of something he wasn’t sure he deserved to hold. and then—he kissed you.

it wasn’t rushed. it wasn’t perfect either. his lips were warm, unsure at first, like he was still learning what it meant to feel everything he’d avoided. but the moment you leaned into him, he melted.

his other hand found your waist, sliding around to hold you steady as if he needed the anchor. your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, grounding yourself in the heat of him.

“i’m sorry,” he breathed against your mouth. “i should’ve said something sooner.”

you kissed him back, just as soft. just as broken.

“you didn’t,” you whispered. “you never do.”

nagi pulled back just enough to look at you. his eyes were clearer than you’d ever seen them—open, raw, like the wall between you was finally cracking. “i didn’t know how,” he admitted, voice hoarse. “it was easier to pretend. that if i didn’t say anything, i couldn’t lose you.”

you blinked at him, chest tightening. “but you did.”

that broke something in him.

he kissed you again, harder this time—but not in a way that hurt. it was desperation, barely concealed by the tremble in his hands as they held you close. his lips moved with a kind of apology his voice couldn’t carry.

“i’ll make it up to you,” he muttered between kisses. “i swear, angel… i’ll make it up to you.”

his forehead fell against yours, breaths mingling as his arms slid around your waist tighter, like you might disappear again if he loosened his grip.

“i didn’t mean to hurt you,” he whispered. “i just—every time i saw you with someone else, i felt like i was choking on my own heartbeat.”

your eyes watered. “then why didn’t you say anything?”

“because i thought i could live with just being your friend,” he confessed, voice cracking. “but i can’t. not anymore. not after hearing you say yes to someone else. not after realizing that someone else might get to hold your hand. kiss you. call you theirs.”

you closed your eyes, tears clinging to your lashes.

“do you still want me?” he asked, his voice suddenly small. uncertain. like a boy rather than the prodigy the school worshipped. like someone afraid he’d ruined the one thing he wanted most.

you nodded.

and he kissed you again.

this time it was slower. not desperate—but deliberate. tender. like he was tracing every inch of what he could’ve lost. his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer, his lips moving with careful reverence.

“you feel like home,” he whispered against your skin, voice breaking. “i didn’t realize it until i walked away from the one place i ever felt safe.”

you held him back just as tightly.

then—

click.

the door creaked open behind you, light spilling into the dimly lit clubroom. you both turned your heads slightly—breathless, lips pink, tangled in each other—only to find reo leaning against the doorframe with a smug smirk plastered across his face.

“well, shit,” he drawled, arms crossed. “i was joking when i said you two better kiss.”

your face burned, and you turned toward the wall, hiding your expression in nagi’s shoulder. nagi didn’t even flinch. he simply pulled you closer, wrapping both arms around your waist and resting his chin on your head like he’d claimed you completely now—and didn’t care who saw.

reo raised an eyebrow and backed out of the room with both hands lifted. “you’re welcome, by the way. that’s the last time i play matchmaker for emotionally repressed athletes.”

the door shut behind him with a soft click.

silence settled again—but this time it was warm. safe.

nagi didn’t let go.

he just held you like he’d waited his whole life to.

and in the quiet that followed, with your heartbeat finally slowing, you whispered into the space between his collarbone and jaw, “then don’t let me go again.”

his answer came in the form of another kiss—slow, aching, sure.

this time, it didn’t feel like the end of anything.

it felt like the very beginning.

bonus scene.

reo sauntered out of the kitchen with a plate of fruit and two croissants balanced in one hand, his expression so smug it bordered on criminal.

“wow,” he said dramatically, flopping onto the couch like it was a throne. “so you finally confessed. in my club room. after months of the most agonizing, tension-filled friendship i’ve ever had the misfortune to witness. honestly? about damn time.”

you sat curled up on the other end of the plush couch, mug of cocoa nestled in your hands, half-tucked into a throw blanket that definitely wasn’t yours. your face flushed at the memory, and you ducked your head, hiding behind the steam. nagi was sprawled across the floor with his head resting in your lap, white hair messy, fingers lazily interlaced with yours as if he refused to let you go even in sleep.

“reo…” you muttered. “you’re never going to let us live it down, are you?”

he grinned over the rim of his juice glass. “absolutely not. this is what i live for. i carried this friends-to-lovers campaign on my back like atlas holding up the sky.”

nagi grunted softly, shifting closer to your stomach and nuzzling in. “too loud…”

reo rolled his eyes, but fondness softened the motion. “still a baby,” he said under his breath, before turning back to you. “anyway. you’re welcome.”

“for what?” you asked warily.

reo gestured with both hands like he was presenting fine art. “for being the only reason you two aren’t still stuck in the ‘will-they-won’t-they’ stage while making everyone else around you suffer.”

your cheeks burned hotter.

nagi, still barely awake, mumbled against the hem of your hoodie, “didn’t wanna suffer anymore.”

reo raised a brow. “oh, so now you talk about your feelings?”

another grunt. nagi tugged on your hand and pulled it close to his chest. “told her everything last night.”

reo looked at you with mock horror. “everything-everything?”

you laughed into your mug. “reo.”

“i mean, i did say make out as a joke,” he continued, dramatically reclining back into the couch, “but you two took it as a challenge.”

nagi tugged the blanket you were using, covering part of himself with it like a turtle burrowing deeper. “didn’t hear you complaining when you left.”

“oh, i was mentally high-fiving myself all the way to the vending machine,” reo said smugly. “finally. emotional constipation, cured. you’re welcome.”

you gave him a dry look. “should i get you a medal or something?”

he beamed. “please do. make it engraved. cupid mikage, or something with sparkles.”

despite your embarrassment, you smiled. it was easy now. so much lighter than yesterday. your shoulders didn’t feel weighed down by the ‘what-ifs’ anymore. just quiet, humming contentment.

nagi stirred again, his hand slowly brushing circles against your palm. “don’t leave today.”

reo snorted from the other end. “bro. she’s wearing my hoodie and holding your soul. she’s not going anywhere.”

you playfully kicked reo’s foot. “you’re such a menace.”

“hey,” he said, mock-wounded. “i locked you two in a room so you’d stop emotionally blue-balling yourselves. that’s love.”

nagi pulled your hand to his chest again and mumbled, barely audible, “you’re mine.”

you blinked, glancing down at him.

“hmm?” you murmured, brushing his bangs out of his face.

“mine,” he said again, slower. “you’re… mine.”

reo gagged from across the room. “i’m right here, guys. show some mercy to the lonely rich kid who third-wheeled your entire relationship into existence.”

you laughed—fully this time. a soft, real, bright sound that filled the room and made nagi shift to look up at you like it was his favorite melody. he pressed his face against your thigh and closed his eyes again, satisfied.

and for once, with reo’s chaos and nagi’s sleepy weight grounding you, everything just… clicked.

the tension was gone.

the fear, the doubt, the silence—it had all broken the night before.

now, there was only this: morning light, your favorite people, a stupidly expensive penthouse, and a love that had finally found its way home.

[luvergirl-535]

off-limits, on purpose

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 9.4k

c/w - privateschool!au, paige and nika are rivals, incredibly self-indulgent with little to no plot. read at your own will 😔.

a/n - reworked fic that i had written from a couple years ago, rediscovered, and decided to make pazzi lol. there will be one more part, which will be incredibly unserious and stupid, but what’s new?

extra a/n - i haven’t added any of my italics/emphasis yet (i’m high asf and too tired to do it) but i wanted to release this for yall now anyway! i’ll edit it tomorrow 🙂‍↕️ love you pookie bears

“I just don’t think they’re a very good fit. Not to be rude or anything—I mean, she’s probably super nice—but don’t you think he’s a little out of her league? I mean, a lot out of her league.” Nika smiles a little, amused at herself. “Like, miles out.”

“Stop, I’m so glad I’m not the only one.” Jana picks up her phone and starts searching for something. “Have you seen the picture she posted on her story yet? It’s so embarrassing.”

Nika snorts. “I don’t keep up with what she posts.” But she still looks eagerly when Jana hands her the phone, and her eyes widen when she looks at it. She clasps a hand over her mouth, looking almost nauseated, like she just watched one of those weird animal birth videos they were forced to watch in health class.

Azzi shovels another bite of pasta into her mouth, hoping they don’t rope her into whatever they’re talking about because she didn’t have time for breakfast this morning and she’s hungry, but unfortunately, Jana nudges her and shoves the phone in her face. “Look, Az. It’s bad, right?”

Azzi spares a glance at the photo. It’s a picture of this random girl that she kind of recognizes but doesn’t know the name of, and Jalen, a mutual friend of theirs, has his arm wrapped around her. She has to admit, it isn’t a very flattering picture on the girl’s part. It’s not bad, but not good, either. She looks a little jaundiced, maybe, but that’s just the lighting.

Needless to say, it’s not very interesting. At least not more interesting than her food. So she just says, “Why are we talking about this girl, again? Do any of us even know her name?”

“Well, no—she’s just dating Jalen. And she always stares at us in chemistry.” Nika gives a dainty little shrug. “But that’s the point. She’s…weird. She’s always writing in that little notebook and I’m pretty sure she grows weed in the school greenhouse.

Okay, Azzi has to agree. Whenever she sees this girl, she always has an aroma, and she usually has pit stains, which is, like, a surefire way to knock yourself down a couple of pegs on the social hierarchy.

“We might have to disown Jalen if he keeps dating her,” Jana says, her voice low and conspiratorial, like she thinks Jalen himself might sneak up on them at any moment. “She’ll definitely take him to the dark side.”

“Ew, gross. Let’s hope he has more common sense than that.”

Azzi pulls her phone out of her pocket, officially bored of the conversation. The gossip has been lame today, with Jalen’s new love interest being the only thing her best friends can seem to talk about. She sort of wishes for something terrible to happen to somebody, like a circulated sex tape or an unwanted pregnancy, but then she scolds herself for thinking that because it’s one of those thoughts that Jana would call ’fucked up’ and ‘crossing a line.’ Jana is the moral compass of the group.

Just as Azzi is about to suggest they go vape in the bathroom or something, a general hush falls over the cafeteria. She recognizes the sudden silence as the same silence that falls whenever she walks into a room. And besides Nika and Jana, there’s only one other person in the whole school who can elicit this kind of reaction.

Nika’s eyes widen at something behind Azzi and Jana, and the two share a look before turning to see what all the fuss is about—though there’s no reason to look. They already know.

It’s Paige Bueckers.

And she’s dressed in the exact same outfit as Nika.

At their private school, there is a standardized uniform that everybody has to wear, which are only slightly less horrid than the standard public school uniforms in their area. Even though they’re expensive and made of high-end fabrics, the student body hates wearing them. They’re stuffy, hard to get into, and the skirts that the girls have to wear squeeze your waist until you’re blue. So, in her freshman year, Azzi, as student body president—three years running, now—fought long and hard to give them all a day every two weeks where they can wear whatever the hell they want.

Some come wearing shorts and bikini tops, even in the winter.

Some come wearing the most outrageous, hideous costumes Azzi has ever seen in her life.

And Nika Muhl? She comes wearing all of her daddy’s money in the form of a stylish top and jeans tailored specifically to her. She makes absolutely sure that every outfit will be nothing any of her peers have seen or even dreamed of wearing before.

And here Paige is—Nika’s self-proclaimed rival and toughest competition—wearing the same exact outfit as Nika, all the way down to the baby pink lipgoss.

Azzi puts her head in her hands and groans. She does not have the energy to deal with the storm that will surely follow this. Not today.

“What. The. Fuck.” Jana’s mouth is slightly open, and she’s giving Paige her most practiced mean girl stare, but Paige couldn’t care less. She struts across the room like she owns the place and sends a chin nod Azzi’s way. The smile on her face is probably the most satisfied, egotistical expression Azzi has ever seen.

After Paige and her little posse have sat down at their respective table, and the noise levels in the caf have gone back to normal, Azzi spares a glance at Nika. On the outside, she looks calm and collected, perfectly unbothered. But Azzi can tell by the way she fidgets with her hair, by the way her cheeks are a touch pinker than her Dior blush usually makes them, that she’s absolutely seething on the inside.

“Oh, my god.” Jana looks at both of them, her mouth still open, and Azzi nudges it closed before she starts drooling or something. “Nika, I…”

Nika puts a hand up, effectively silencing their friend. “Don’t. Don’t even try to talk to me right now. I think I’m going to faint.” She says all of this with a small smile on her face, like she’s gossiping with them about something funny, but her tone is pure venom.

Though Azzi gets scared of Nika in these moments, she decides to speak up. “Maybe we should go to the bathroom and—“

“Don’t be dumb, Azzi.” This is a sentence that is repeated a lot whenever they all spend time together. “Do you know how bad it would look for me if we got up and left right after that?” she shakes her head decidedly. “No. We’re going to sit here and eat our food until five minutes before the bell rings, and then we’re going to go and grab drinks from the cafe before lunch is over. Just like we always do.”

Azzi wants to roll her eyes, because Nika’s really being just a little dramatic about all of this, but her phone dings and she looks at it before standing up. “Okay, well, I’m leaving. I have to piss. Nika—“ she reaches across the table to pet Nika’s hair—“we can work this out later, babe. It’ll be fine until then. You’re wearing the outfit better, anyway.”

“I know that,” Nika snaps, but she leans into Azzi’s hand and smiles just a little.

Azzi blows them a kiss as she walks backwards, her heels clicking on the floors. They both pretend to catch it like the giant dorks they are and then they go back to gossiping, this time more heatedly than before. No doubt they’re talking about how they’re going to get back at Paige for this little stunt.

As soon as they’re distracted, Azzi spins around and makes a beeline for room 203A. This room used to be a counseling office, like, years ago, but then the counselors all got their own classrooms and the school must have forgotten about this one, because it’s relatively small and tucked away in an easy-to-miss hallway. It’s also perpetually unlocked. A perfect hideaway.

Azzi closes the door behind her with a soft click, and she thinks that she’s alone until someone speaks up from a dim corner of the room.

“Hey.” It’s Paige, sitting on top of the counselor’s desk, leaning back against her hands. “That was fast.”

Azzi doesn’t comment on how Paige was the fast one—seriously, Azzi hadn’t even thought she’d left the cafeteria yet—because she’s too upset. She crosses her arms and glares at Paige. “That was a bitchy thing to do.”

Paige raises her eyebrows. “What was?”

Azzi does roll her eyes now, and she rolls them hard. “You know what. I’m going to have to deal with Nika for probably the rest of the week because of you.”

“I mean, you don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do. Because she’s my best friend, Paige.” Azzi leans back against the door, trying to act like she doesn’t want to walk over to that desk and stand in between Paige’s legs. “And it really wasn’t cool of you to mess with her. Not today, out of all days.”

For a moment, Paige’s eyebrows furrow like she’s confused. And then the realization dawns and the easy smile turns to a frown as she slides off her desk. At least she has the decency to look guilty. “Right. Your game. I—“

“Forgot?” Azzi scoffs. She feels sort of bad for making Paige guilty about this, because the whole wearing-the-same-outfit-as-Nika thing really isn’t that big of a deal. But the fact that Paige forgot about her soccer game? She’s been talking about this for weeks. “Yeah, I thought you might’ve. I mean, it’s not a surprise.”

Azzi isn’t oblivious to how Paige is slowly making her way towards her, but she ignores it. “You’ve barely been answering my texts the past couple of days. You haven’t so much as made eye contact with me in Spanish. This is the first time this week that we’re meeting in here, the first time this week that I’m actually talking to you in person.” Paige’s close now, within reaching distance, but she doesn’t touch, which is good because Azzi’s not finished yet. “And I was already kind of pissed at you, Paige, and then you forget about this game when you know it’s important to me. And now I’m really mad at you. Like, really, really mad.”

The corners of Paige’s lips quirk up for just a moment, which makes Azzi even more angry. “That mad, huh?” she almost seems amused, but then she’s frowning again. “Listen, Az, I’m—I didn’t know you were so upset. I didn’t mean to ghost you or anything, I swear. I thought you were fine with the distance, because you didn’t say anything.”

How could Azzi possibly have been fine with the distance? Sure, distance is okay—healthy—but without warning?

Azzi sighs, reminds herself that she’s getting all worked up over next to nothing, that this is just pent-up frustration from the past week. She runs a hand through her hair and looks down. “I guess I just got a little scared.”

“Of what?” Paige asks gently.

“I don’t know.” Paige reaches out and tugs on her wrist, and Azzi lets herself be pulled into her arms, because she’s been missing this closeness all week. She wraps her arms around Paige’s waist, rests her head on her shoulder, breathes her in. “That you found some cooler, smarter, taller girl than me and were planning to, like, dump me in front of the whole school.” She pauses. “Or something.”

Paige takes her upper arms and pushes her back a little so she can look at her face. Paige definitely looks amused now, and Azzi feels silly. “Taller? You think I’m going to leave you because you’re five ten?”

“Don’t laugh!” Azzi hits Paige’s midriff, embarrassed. “I’m serious. You just stopped talking to me out of nowhere and I got scared.”

“No, you’re right,” Paige says, and she seems to be serious now. “I shouldn’t have done that. And I also shouldn’t have forgotten about your game. I know how excited you’ve been for it, but I guess since we haven’t talked a lot this week, it just…slipped my mind.”

Azzi takes a step away.. “Can you tell me why you stopped talking to me?”

Paige shrugs uncomfortably. She avoids Azzi’s eyes. “I guess…I don’t know. We’d just been spending sort of every waking minute together for the past couple of weeks, and I wanted…needed a little space.” She glances up nervously, and Azzi realizes with a sinking feeling that Paige thinks this will make her more mad.

“Paige, you know that’s okay, right?” she cups Paige’s face in her hands, making her look her in the eye. “It’s totally fine to need space. I get it. I was starting to feel a little suffocated too with how much time we were spending together,” Azzi admits. “All you needed to do was say that, and I would have given you space.”

Paige takes Azzi’s hands off of her face and wraps them around her shoulders just as the bell rings. Neither of them pay any mind to it. “I’m sorry I didn’t do that. And I’m sorry for making you so mad. And I’m really sorry for forgetting about your game.”

Azzi smiles softly, because she’s a sucker. “It’s okay. I should have communicated better. But, to be honest, I think I’m just sort of grumpy because I haven’t gotten to kiss you all week.”

“Oh, that makes sense. That’s an unfortunate situation.” Paige nods somberly. “I would be sad about not getting to kiss myself, too.”

Honestly, this girl needs to get her ego in check. Majorly. “Shut up.”

“Not unless you make me.”

Azzi shakes her head at the dumb line, but she leans up and kisses her girlfriend anyway.

Paige presses her against the door, pushes against Azzi’s lips with her tongue, and Azzi opens up for her. They make out like that for a while before Paige kisses her cheek and then traces a wet path down Azzi’s jaw, playfully nibbling at a ticklish spot that makes Azzi giggle.

“Be honest,” Paige says, pulling away to smile at her. “I’m pulling off this shit way better than Nika is, right?”

All Azzi really hears is pulling off, which is certainly something she’d like to do to the outfit because Paige always looks best in nothing, but the thought is concerning enough to make her lean away. She’s never skipped class before, and she’s not going to start now.

Paige senses that their time is almost over, and she slips a hand under Azzi’s shirt, rubbing small circles on her tummy with her thumb. “We’re okay, right?”

“Yeah, P,” Azzi replies honestly, because she can never stay mad at Paige, not when she looks at her like she is now. “We are.”

“Okay.” Paige presses one last kiss against her lips, then takes a reluctant step away. “I love you.”

Azzi blushes, then really hates Paige for making her the type of girl to blush at all. “I love you, too.”

She collects her bearings, and just before she walks out of the door, she says, “And yes, by the way. You’re definitely pulling it off better than Nika.”

She gets to her class only ten minutes late, but Jana still looks at her weirdly when she walks in. Azzi doesn’t know if the look is because of her tardiness or the probably stupid smile on her face.

“What’s up with you?” she whispers when Azzi sits down, immediately handing her one of her earbuds to share. “Did you take a really good shit in the bathroom or something?”

Azzi shoves her. Jana says gross things sometimes. “No. Just hit my pen.”

Jana hums suspiciously, then gets back to the writing exercises that they’re supposed to be doing. Azzi pulls out her laptop to do the same, relieved that Jana’s not going to interrogate her like Nika most definitely would.

But as she’s moving onto the second exercise, Jana brushes a thumb over her jaw and says, “Is that lipgloss?”

Usually, Azzi is very good at controlling her reactions, but now she lifts a hand way to quickly to cover the side of her jaw that Paige was kissing just minutes earlier. She can’t believe she didn’t check herself in the mirror before coming to class.

“It looks like the lipgloss Nika’s wearing,” Jana comments. Azzi clears her throat and brings her pencil back to paper, trying her very best to act nonchalant.

“Yeah, she kissed me on the cheek earlier. It must have smudged.”

Azzi feels Jana’s eyes burning into the side of her head, but still she looks firmly down, refusing to give anything for Jana to catch onto.

Eventually she just shrugs. “Oh. Okay.”

She hardly sounds convinced.

If you were to ask Azzi why she’s secretly dating her best friend’s rival, she would tell you it’s because the secrecy, the sneaking around, the Romeo and Juliet-esque relationship, is exactly what makes dating Paige Bueckers so fun.

This, of course, would be a lie.

The real reason is because Azzi doesn’t think she’s ever met anyone who can make her feel quite the same way that Paige can, nor does she think she ever could. Which may sound a little pretentious and naive, but it’s how she feels.

Paige brings her flowers for no reason at all. Paige listens when she talks about her absentee dad and insufferable mom. Paige lets her lean on her shoulder when everything else in her life is just a little to heavy for her to bear on her own. And, maybe most importantly of all, Paige is, like, a really good kisser.

It all sounds so cliche and juvenile even to Azzi’s own ears, but to her, what they have is maybe the most substantial thing in her life.

Which makes her feel beyond guilty, because since when does she betray her best friends? Has she forgotten how Nika was the first person to ever really listen to Azzi, to talk her through any and every problem she may have? Or how Jana is the only person in the entire world who can help Azzi breathe through a panic attack, who can sense when something is going on at home?

Her friends aren’t artificial. Her friends are just as real as Paige is. Her friends don’t deserve to be left out of the loop of such an important aspect of Azzi’s life, and they certainly don’t deserve for Azzi to turn around and stab them in the back like she does every single day, like she’s been doing every single day for the past three years.

But Azzi is happy with Paige. Happy with her in a way she isn’t with her friends. And, despite all her flaws and all the admittedly mean things she’d said about people in the past, doesn’t she deserve to be happy?

“I can leave, if you want.”

Azzi bites her lip and glances over at Paige, who’s watching her cautiously. She wants to ask Why? or Did I do something? But she knows exactly why Paige’s offering.

She’s having a bad day. She woke up wallowing in her insecurity and has spent the day an anxious ball of guilty energy. She really should have said no when Paige offered to come to her place after school to study, but she thought maybe the company would make her feel better.

Instead, it might be making her feel even worse. All she can think about is how terrible of a friend she is and how terrible of a girlfriend she is and how she’s also sort of a bad person in general.

So, obviously, she’s a little irritable and more than a little distant. When Paige kissed her when they got up to her bedroom, she pulled away almost immediately; when Paige reached over to hold her hand while they were doing homework, she let go as soon as possible under the guise of needing to find a new pencil; and just now, while Azzi was questioning her place in this world and why she deserves it, she had shrugged Paige off when all she did was lay a comforting hand on her shoulder.

It makes sense why Paige would want to leave. But, as badly as Azzi’s PMS-ing today, she still doesn’t want Paige anywhere else but here.

So, she replies with an earnest, “I don’t,” and when Paige looks at her skeptically, she reaches up from her place on the floor and lays a palm on the bed where Paige’s sitting. Paige puts her hand over Azzi’s, albeit tentatively, and looks at her expectantly.

“I’m sorry,” Azzi says with a pout, trying to forget guilt and self-deprecation and just letting herself enjoy holding Paige’s hand, enjoy being in her space. “It’s just been a hard day. I shouldn’t take it out on you, though.”

Paige slides off the bed, sits next to her on her plush carpet. “Did something happen?”

Azzi pulls Paige’s hand into her lap and twiddles with her fingers. “Not specifically. I just woke up feeling bad and pretty much everything that’s happened today has made me want to cry.”

“I could kinda tell,” Paige says, and Azzi worries that she was too obvious about it, but Nika and Jana spent all day with her and they didn’t say anything. Azzi thinks Paige is probably an empath, or maybe she’s just attuned to Azzi’s emotions by now. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want me over, but I figured I’d ask just in case and when you said yes I thought it’d make you feel better to have someone around. But if you want to be alone, that’s totally fine.”

“I don’t. I think I’d be lonely if you left and then I probably would cry.”

Paige smiles, opens her legs, a silent invitation much like Azzi’s hand on the bed, and Azzi doesn’t hesitate to move and sit between her legs, leaning back against Paige’s chest, letting herself be held and not feeling suffocated by it.

“If I were a really evolved, in-touch-with-emotions type of girl, I would tell you that you probably should cry,” Paige says, face nuzzled into Azzi’s neck. “But I say we just drop the homework and kiss until your mom gets back instead?”

Azzi giggles, presses her lips against Paige’s, and they do just that. And Azzi is very glad for a girlfriend who has such good ideas, because this is definitely more fun than crying.

Having a secret relationship is probably one of the hardest things Azzi has ever done. Of course, having a secret relationship can never be easy, but Azzi thinks she has it especially bad because the very friends that she is trying to hide Paige from also happen to be very nosy and very susceptible to barging into Azzi’s house without any warning whatsoever.

Usually, Azzi and Paige are doing something like making out on Azzi’s bed whenever Nika or Jana invite themselves into Azzi’s home. It’s always pretty nerve-wracking, but it’s also not that difficult to just shove Paige under her bed or into her closet the moment they hear Jana’s yelling or Nika’s loud-ass laugh in the hallway. Of course, the fact that Paige has to sit in a cramped space until they can find a way to properly sneak her out is unfortunate, and it’s also sad when their time together is cut so abruptly short, but they usually just end up laughing about it later. No harm done.

Today, though, is different.

Paige and Azzi are not in Azzi’s room today, because they are in the kitchen instead, baking cookies.

Azzi’s mother is out on a trip with her latest boyfriend, and her brothers are out doing whatever they do on the weekends, leaving the entire house to her. Which means they don’t have to hide out in her room like they usually do.

Of course, maybe baking was a mistake, seeing as neither of them exactly know how to bake. There’s flour everywhere, the cookie dough has a weird texture, and they’ve spent more time ‘taste-testing’ than actually baking.

But, still, Azzi is having more fun than she’s had in a really long time.

“This is a good look for you,” Azzi says, inspecting the flour stuck to Paige’s eyelashes. “The white really brings out your eyes.”

“Oh, yeah?” Paige bats her eyelashes, then pulls Azzi in by the waist and kisses her.

Azzi pulls away, nose wrinkled. “You taste like flour, Paige.”

Paige kisses her nose, then her jaw, then her ear before saying, “That’s probably because you threw flour at me. Like a psycho.”

Azzi wants to tell her that she didn’t mean to throw it, it just flung out of the measuring cup when she slipped on the oil that Paige spilled earlier, so really it’s her own fault that she’s covered in flour, but Paige is kissing her neck and pressing her against the cupboards, and all she can really do is sigh contentedly.

After a minute, Paige grabs the bottoms of her thighs and lifts her onto the counter, probably so she doesn’t have to bend down so much to kiss where she wants to. Azzi gasps when Paige sucks at her collarbone, and she tangles her fingers in Paige’s hair, and she’s just worrying about the cookies and how they’ll probably burn if they get any more distracted when the front door opens.

Paige detaches from Azzi’s neck, though her hands stay underneath her shirt, still playing with the wire of her bra. “What—“

“Az!” it’s Nika. Of course it’s goddamn Nika. “You’re home, right?”

“Azzziiiii,” sings a second voice. Jana. “Azzzziiiii!”

Paige tries to say something else, and Azzi shoves her face in her chest to silence her while she tries to think. The front entryway leads into the living room. There’s a door from there that leads to the kitchen. If Nika and Jana decide to check the kitchen first, then Azzi and Paige are screwed.

Azzi holds her breath, clutching anxiously at Paige’s head as the footsteps get closer. The girls are still calling for her, and Azzi thinks she hears them pause outside the door, but the next second the footsteps get fainter as they walk towards the staircase.

“Shit,” Azzi mutters, releasing her girlfriend’s head. “That was close.”

Paige rubs at a spot on her scalp where Azzi must have dug her fingernails in too hard and glares. “You didn’t tell me they were coming over.”

“I didn’t know they were coming over.”

“They’re kind of shitty friends. They always show up without asking you if it’s okay.”

There are a lot of downsides to dating somebody who hates her best friends, but the biggest one is probably the arguments they get into whenever Paige says things like this and Azzi gets defensive.

She slips off the counter, straightens her shirt, and gives Paige a little shove towards the door. “They knew I was home alone. They had no reason not to come over.”

Paige pouts at her. “I don’t wanna leave.”

“You have to, Paige.”

“Why?”

“Because you just do.”

The pout falls, turns into a frown that is much less cute and much more angry. “Kick them out instead of me.”

This takes Azzi aback. Paige has never asked for such a thing, has never questioned it when Azzi has to choose her friends over her. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Paige’s tone is challenging, and she crosses her arms over her chest. “Why can’t you just tell them that you don’t feel like hanging out today and ask them to leave?”

Azzi hesitates. The change in the atmosphere has thrown her for a loop. A minute ago, they were kissing, and now Paige looks like she’s rearing up for a fight that Azzi doesn’t want to have. “I don’t know. I don’t really want them to leave, Paige. I like hanging out with them.”

“You see them all the time at school,” Paige says. “You’re with them every weekend. If I don’t ask you to hang out a week in advance, you’ve already made plans with them. Moments like these—“ Paige motions at their surroundings—“are getting way too fucking rare. And even when we do hang out, this always ends up happening. You have to sneak me out like I’m some dirty secret when they show up unsolicited, because you choose them over me every fucking time.”

“You were just saying you needed space because we were spending to much time together, and now it’s not enough?” It’s silly, but all Azzi can think about is how she and Paige made a rule to never cuss while they’re angry at each other, and Azzi finds herself wanting to bring that up rather than face this poorly timed argument. Instead, she just tries to keep her voice down because the footsteps from overhead are getting louder. She sighs. “Now isn’t a good time for this, Paige.”

“Of course it isn’t.” Paige scoffs, runs a hand through her hair, and grabs her phone off the kitchen counter. “You know what? Fuck you, Azzi.” And then she turns around and just…leaves.

Azzi stares after her, even after the kitchen door has closed and her footsteps have long disappeared.

Her phone starts ringing. The sound startles her into movement, and she looks around, realizes Paige left her sweater sitting on the island. She hides it. Then, she answers the phone.

“Where are you?” Nika says accusingly. “Your car is in the driveway, so we know you’re home.”

“Are you guys over?” Azzi asks, trying her best to sound aloof rather than panicked. “I’ve had my earphones in for the past, like, hour. I’m in the kitchen.”

“Since when do you even step foot in your kitchen?”

“Since today, I guess. I’m making cookies.”

“Okay, we’re coming down.” On cue, Azzi hears footsteps descending the staircase. “Hold on.”

Nika hangs up, then appears in the kitchen with Jana a second later. “Hey, pretty.”

Azzi takes a shaky breath and smiles. “Hi.”

Jana stares at her. “You have flour on your neck.”

Azzi wipes it away, unworried about whether it was left in the shape of Paige’s lips or not.

“We thought you might be bored, all alone in the house.” Nika wanders around the kitchen. They hardly ever come in here, because Azzi has a mini fridge and candy stash in her bedroom and Nika’s house is where the good snacks are at, anyway. “Obviously we were right. You were reduced to baking cookies.”

Azzi tries for a laugh. Nika seems completely unaware of her strange behavior, but Jana is still looking at her intently. “You okay, babe?”

“Yeah.” Azzi can never lie to Jana, so she says, “I mean, I sort of have a headache, but it’s okay.”

Nika hoists herself onto the counter, sitting at the same spot Azzi was a few minutes ago, when Paige was here and close and warm. “Want to go shopping later?”

Azzi nods, and can’t help thinking she’s made a terrible mistake.

The first time Azzi met Paige, she was fourteen.

Paige was some sort of basketball prodigy, a year older than Azzi and yet playing at a higher level than any other sophomore, and when Azzi saw her standing at the front of her lit class, introducing herself all-too confidently, her first thought was that she was very, very pretty.

Her second thought was that Paige could fit in perfectly with Azzi and Nika and Jana. This was her first mistake.

When she told Nika about it later that day, her best friend was furious. She told Azzi about how Paige had already tried to one-up her in debate club (which was Nika’s thing) and had also already been named the school’s basketball star before even playing in a game (also definitely Nika’s thing).

Obviously, this new girl was trying to take Nika’s spot as queen bee. Azzi still didn’t see why Paige couldn’t just join their group and be with them rather than against them, but Jana seemed to agree with Nika on this one, so she was sort of outnumbered.

Paige found her own group of friends soon enough, and the rest of the year was spent as some sort of long competition between the two groups—Who can silence a room the fastest? Who can wear the most expensive clothes? Who can throw the best parties?—and neither one of them ever came out on top. It was a constant tug-o-war.

For some reason, Nika was under the impression that since Paige was from a different state, that meant she was only going to be in Virginia for a year before she moved away again. Nika spent the whole summer singing about how the next year was going to be a fresh start, an amazing, Paige-less year—she was ecstatic.

(One June day, Azzi was out shopping with her brother and she saw Paige browsing one of the shops. They made eye contact. Paige waved, and Azzi smiled shyly. It was their first real interaction besides sharing blushing glances in class.

Azzi didn’t tell Nika about that.)

After the interaction, she found herself hoping that, since Paige hadn’t moved away by June, it meant she would still be around for the school year. It was no surprise to her, then, when Paige walked through the doors of the high school on her first day as sophomore, looking really cute in her school uniform.

Nika nearly fainted, and Azzi pretended to be shocked and angry when really she was just hoping for a chance to speak to Paige this year.

And then they got paired up together for the biology assignment.

“Hey,” Paige had said after the teacher had announced their partners and instructed them to go to each other’s desks to get to know one another. “You’re Azzi.”

Internally, Azzi was flipping her shit. She had never seen Paige up close before, and she was even prettier when she was standing right there. Plus, there was a pink tint to her pale cheeks and she was wringing her hands nervously, which let Azzi know they were feeling more or less the same way.

But on the outside, Azzi was as cool as a cucumber. She was known for her I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude and effortlessly pretty smiles, and squealing at Paige’s closeness would be a foolproof way to ruin her brand.

“Yeah, I am,” she replied, and then she thought of Nika. She couldn’t keep something like this from her. She still didn’t understand why Nika and Paige hated each other so much, but she was in no place to argue against their little rivalry. All she could do was try to stay loyal to her best friend.

But that didn’t mean she had to be a bitch to Paige. Paige seemed nice, and if she was okay with setting she and Nika’s strife aside to be friends with Azzi, then Azzi was perfectly fine with that, too. Even if the friendship had to stay a secret.

Nika freaked when she found out, of course. She gave very specific instructions to Azzi—don’t speak to her unless it’s about the assignment, don’t let her into your house, and don’t, under any circumstances, tell her anything about the group. Anything and everything she said could be used against her, against them, as blackmail.

Azzi broke basically every one of these rules within the first week of she and Paige’s partnership. Because Paige was cool, and funny, and she told good stories and turned out to be a great listener. And, again, she happened to be very nice to look at.

They got an A on that assignment, and Paige didn’t stop coming over after they finished it.

Needless to say, Azzi soon realized why she got all giggly and nervous around Paige—it was because she had a crush. Which brought on a whole slew of identity crises and a lot of looking back at certain events in her life and thinking Oh, that makes so much sense now, but the side effects that came with realizing she was queer could be saved for later.

For the moment, all she could think about was how maybe, maybe, Paige just might have felt the same way.

Azzi spent a lot of time picking petals off flowers, she loves me, she loves me not, and analyzing basically every single thing Paige said and did while they were together. Paige grabbed her hand at a jumpscare in the movie, did that mean anything? Or what about when Azzi caught her staring and she looked away and blushed—that had to mean something, right?

The end of the year rolled around before Azzi could figure out if anything actually meant anything. Paige and Azzi made plans to see each other over winter break. The night after the last day of school, Paige showed up at Azzi’s front doorstep and said, “I like you a lot, and I don’t want to end the year without kissing you,” and Azzi said, “We’re seeing each other on Wednesday, silly,” and then she leaned forward and kissed her for the first time.

All promises about staying loyal to Nika flew out the window the minute their lips slotted awkwardly together, but that didn’t matter so much to Azzi anymore.

She’d pulled away and said, “We won’t tell Nika about this, right?”

“No,” Paige replied. “I guess not.”

And that’s how their relationship started—with a secret friendship and a hidden first kiss.

They are used to their world being confined in a tiny locked box, never to be opened by anyone but them. But worlds can’t grow, Azzi will come to learn, without space.

The curious thing about Paige is that she’s the type of person who looks like she could never, ever get angry, let alone at someone she loves as much as she loves Azzi. But then you catch yourself saying the wrong thing, or stumbling over your words at the wrong time, and she explodes, because when all that time you thought she was simply a happy, contented girl without a hateful bone in her body, she was really letting the anger sit just underneath her skin to fester.

Paige does not explode, however, in the way that explosions usually happen. Even when the anger bubbles up to the surface and bares its ugly teeth, she is quiet about it. She doesn’t scream, or demand answers, or stomp her feet and yell. She looks you in the eye, says what she wants to say, and leaves.

She leaves, and she takes your heart with her.

It has been four days since Azzi and Paige fought. Or, to put it more accurately, since Paige fought and Azzi sat there like a stump. A stupid, clueless stump. Azzi has been trying to contact her girlfriend basically every spare minute she gets since then, but there has been nothing. Paige’s ghosting her.

This isn’t the first time this has happened. Last year, they got into a fight much bigger and louder than this one, and in the middle of it Paige had said something like “I can’t do this anymore” before walking out the door.

Paige had no idea, then, that Azzi’s father left them after a big fight with her mother. She did not know that he had said almost the same words, worn almost the same expression as he walked away as if it were nothing.

Azzi panicked, surprised by the likeness of it all, surprised by her own reaction to it, surprised that Paige could leave her as easily as he did. Her mom found her in the bathroom, trying and failing to breathe properly because she’d driven somebody away again.

She was scared of the rejection that would surely come with reaching out, but she did it anyway, sending Paige one long text and reminding herself that this is why she doesn’t let herself care about people too much when Paige didn’t respond.

But the next day, Paige knocked on her bedroom door with a bouquet of flowers and begged to her, please, I’m sorry, I love you, and Azzi told her about her past, about why her dad isn’t around anymore.

Paige held her, and said, “I will never leave you again. I will stay right here forever. I promise.”

And yet, here they are. And maybe that’s what hurts the most.

But Azzi knows that, this time, Paige is not the one who needs to apologize. So, after four days of radio silence, she shows up at Paige’s doorstep after school when she is supposed to be at a soccer game, because Paige was right. Azzi has had to choose between Paige and everything else in her life for a long time, and she always goes for everything else when she’s pretty sure that Paige is her everything. So, here she is, missing a pretty important match, freezing her ass off on Paige’s front porch, and hoping that Paige will just answer the door and give her a chance to explain herself.

The door opens, but it’s not Paige. It’s Paige’s stepmom. “Oh, Azzi. Hi, honey.” She looks quite confused, for some reason, but not angry, which makes Azzi think Paige hasn’t told her family about what happened.

“Um, hi. Is Paige home?”

The confusion on her face deepens. “No, she went out with KK about a half hour ago. Said they were going to watch your soccer game.”

Azzi stops. She stops because this whole time, these past ninety-six hours, she has been terrified because Paige left. But now Paige is trying to come back, despite everything.

“Thank you,” Azzi says, and then she walks back to her car and pulls her phone out of her pocket just as it starts ringing.

“Azzi,” Paige says when she picks up.

“Where are you?” Azzi asks, because she needs to apologize in person.

“I’m at your house. I—I went to the school, to see you, but you weren’t there, and you’re not at your house either.”

“I know. I came to see you. It was more important than the match.”

There’s a pause, and then Paige exhales something like relief. “Come to me?”

Azzi starts her car. “Always.”

When Azzi was little—when her parents never fought, before her younger brothers were adopted—she had a universe for a bedroom.

Now, this is a very well-kept secret of Azzi’s, but she was sort of lame back in kindergarten. Her father was really into astronomy, and Azzi was able to read the stars like a second language before she ever opened a book. So, for her fourth birthday, all that she asked for was a space-themed bedroom.

She fell asleep in her older brother’s room the night before her birthday. And when she woke up, she had been magically transported to her own room, except it wasn’t her own room anymore. It had been professionally painted, and murals of all the planets in the universe had been painted on every wall, making her feel like she was taking a walk through the sky. The ceiling was split into two halves: on one side, there was the sun, this giant fiery ball of yellow that Azzi was sure would fall down on her if she wasn’t careful—and on the other, the moon sat not quite as bright nor quite as extraordinary as its counterpart, but Azzi thought it must have been much less lonely because it had all the stars and constellations for company and the sun only had itself.

That night, her parents lay in bed with her. Her dad pointed out all of her favorite constellations which the painters had so carefully constructed, and her mom stared around the room with something like wonder.

“So, we got you the universe,” her dad had told her as he tucked her in, after her mom had already left the room. “How can we top that for your big O-five?”

“Don’t be silly, daddy,” she’d giggled. “I can’t have the whole universe.”

“Why not?” he’d asked.

Azzi found that she didn’t know how to answer him.

It starts to rain while Azzi’s driving, and usually she would slow down because it terrifies her to drive in the rain, but today she can’t seem to be that scared of hydroplaning or careening or dying because all she can think about is how Paige hates the cold and she’s standing outside of Azzi’s locked, empty house with nothing but the roof over the front porch as shelter.

She gets to her house in ten minutes, which is a record time considering it’s a busy Saturday afternoon and there’s traffic lining every street. Paige is sitting on her porch in a t-shirt and baggy jeans when Azzi pulls into the driveway, and she gets out of her car, passes by without even looking at her to unlock the door. She hears her stand up, take a step towards her. “Azzi—“

She opens the door. “Let’s get inside. You’re gonna catch a cold.”

Paige looks at her a little hesitantly, but she does what Azzi asks anyway.

Once they’re inside, Azzi splays her palms over Paige’s forearms, thumbs rubbing at her cold elbows, animosity and fear forgotten for the moment, overpowered by the need to take care of her girlfriend. “How long were you outside?”

Paige stares down at Azzi for a moment, looking at her as if this is some sort of trick. “Azzi…” but Azzi levels her with a look that says later, and she relaxes a little. “I don’t know. At least ten minutes, I guess.”

“You should go change. You left your sweatpants over awhile ago. And I have your sweater from Tuesday.” They both flinch a little at the mention of Tuesday, like even mentioning it will take them right back there. Azzi backs away and nudges her towards the hallway. “I’ll make hot chocolate, and then we can talk.”

As soon as Paige is upstairs, Azzi goes to the kitchen and puts the kettle on to boil. She’s trying to think of how she should apologize, how she can make up for all the mistakes she’s made in the past year. Well, almost two years. Their anniversary is in a couple months. Which reminds her that she needs to start looking for a gift, because shipping is slow this time of year.

That is, if she and Paige are still together a month from now, if Paige doesn’t break up with her today. Which, yeah, maybe she’d deserve that because she hasn’t been a great girlfriend. But she doesn’t think she could get over it if Paige broke up with her.

The milk starts boiling just as Azzi starts crying just as Paige walks into the room, dressed in warm clothes and looking pretty enough that Azzi cries harder and turns away, embarrassed, busying herself with turning the stove on low.

Paige doesn’t say anything about Azzi’s sniffles or the way she’s wiping her eyes angrily with the sleeves of her sweater. She just grabs two mugs and moves Azzi’s hands away from the stovetop, pours the boiling water.

Azzi watches her miserably. “I’m supposed to be making it for you,” she hiccups.

“It’s okay, mama,” Paige murmurs, and Azzi knows that this is Paige’s way of comforting her without the risk of getting too close.

Azzi goes into the pantry, mainly to collect herself and to try to stop her lips from quivering anymore. When she comes out with three hot chocolate packets, the tears streaming down her cheeks are silent.

She pours them into the mugs—two packets for Paige, one for herself—and lets Paige stir them in, watching the milk turn brown and creamy.

By the time they’re settled in the living room, Azzi’s properly embarrassed. She hides behind her mug, pulling her legs into herself, and tries to remember how to speak. She’s spent every second since their argument going over how she’s going to apologize, what she’s going to say, what she’s going to do. But now that Paige is here, sitting in front of her looking tentative and a little angry, all of that seems useless. Instead, she blurts out the one thing that’s been in the back of her mind since she realized that Paige came back for her. “Are you here to break up with me?”

Paige sighs, sets her hot chocolate down on the coffee table. “Azzi, no.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” Azzi adds, but the words choke her up again so she closes her mouth.

“Just because we argued doesn’t mean I want to break up with you.” Paige avoids her eyes, picks at the expensive fabric of Azzi’s couch. She says, voice a little shyer now, “I asked you to come to me, didn’t I?”

Yeah, she did.

“Are you…” Azzi peers at her over the rim of her mug, “angry with me?”

“To be honest? Yeah,” she says quietly, like a part of her is scared to hurt Azzi. And it does hurt, a little bit, but Azzi would rather she be honest with her than hide her feelings for Azzi’s sake. “I’m not just angry with you, though. I’m also hurt, and sorta sad, and I miss you a lot, despite everything. And I’m mad at myself for how I handled…everything.” She meets Azzi’s eyes sort of sheepishly, and then shrugs like none of what she said matters.

Azzi opens her mouth to apologize, but instead what comes out is a soft, “I’m proud of you for telling me that,” because it’s always been incredibly hard for Paige to communicate, to put her feelings into words.

Azzi isn’t sure whether her being proud has any substance right now, but Paige’s eyes widen and then she smiles just a little bit, looking back down at the sofa bashfully. “Thank you,” she murmurs.

Azzi hums, and then she puts her hand on Paige’s knee, lightly enough that she knows she can move away if she wants to. She doesn’t move away, though, just lifts her eyes, and Azzi says, vehemently, “I’m really sorry, Paige.”

Paige nods, places her hand over Azzi’s, and watches her expectantly.

“What you said that day…Paige, I’m not going to say I hadn’t noticed the way I’d been treating you. I’m not going to say that I had no idea I’ve been putting you second to everything in my life for awhile now, because of course I did. Every time I chose someone, or something, over you, I was making a conscious decision to do that.” She stops to frown at herself—this is more difficult than she thought it would be. Paige rubs a thumb over her knuckles, gives her an encouraging nod, and that’s enough to make Azzi continue. “I guess it was just easier that way. It was easier to cut you out of my life whenever it was convenient, knowing you would come right back the next day acting like it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Which sucks,” Paige says.

Azzi looks down shamefully. “I know.”

“I know that what we’re doing is complicated,” Paige says, scooting a little closer to her. “But the way you’ve been treating me…it’s mean, Azzi.”

Tears well in Azzi’s eyes when she hears the hurt in Paige’s voice, and hearing that—seeing it written all over her face up close—she understands now the weight of everything she’s done, all the mistakes she’s made. And yet Paige is still here, holding her hand, willing to make this work.

And Azzi is sure as hell willing to change. For her. For them.

“I know,” she whispers again. “I’ve been a really shitty girlfriend.” She wipes a stray tear away with her free hand, and Paige’s lips wobble. She looks away, probably to pull herself together, and Azzi reminds herself of the one-cry-a-day rule that she put in place for herself a few years ago, which sort of helps her stop sniffling. “And I’m really, really sorry.”

Paige squeezes her hand. “I know you are.”

It’s not forgiveness, not yet, but Azzi feels better knowing that Paige knows how sincere she is.

“I could’ve handled it better, too,” Paige says after a silent moment. “I never meant to blow up on you like that, and especially not at such a bad time. I was just…I had had enough, I guess.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me sooner?” Azzi asks gently.

Paige gives her a sad little smile. “I was sort of hoping I wouldn’t have to.”

Paige hates conflict, but Azzi knows it’s not about that. It’s about the fact that she shouldn’t have had to talk about it—Azzi shouldn’t have kept treating her like shit until she reached the end of her line. But she did. And here they are.

“Baby,” Azzi breathes, a new wave of guilt crashing over her, and she wonders if she will ever stop feeling bad about this. It’s probably for the best if she doesn’t, anyway.

“I know,” Paige whispers. She takes Azzi’s hand off her knee, and for a moment Azzi is worried that she’s going to turn her away, but she just starts playing with her fingers like she does whenever she gets anxious. “I should have talked about it before I got so angry, though. Or I at least could have picked a better time to yell at you about it.” The teasing lilt in her voice makes Azzi smile a little, but then Paige’s wincing. “And I’m sorry for cussing at you. I feel the most bad about that.”

Azzi has spent the better part of the year treating Paige like she’s nothing more than a second thought, and yet Paige is still apologizing for something so small, so insignificant in the end, and Azzi almost wishes Paige would break up with her, find someone a million times better, someone who can treat her right.

“It’s okay,” she says, knowing Paige won’t let her dismiss the apology. “Hey,” Paige is avoiding her eyes, so she takes her chin, angles her face towards her until they’re looking straight at each other, “I’m going to be better, okay? I don’t care if my friends can’t know about you. I don’t care if it’s easier to keep them from asking questions than it is to ask you to stay. I care about you.” This, most of all, is what she wants Paige to know, because she deserves to feel nothing but loved, respected, cared for. “From now on, I’m going to show it better, okay? I love you. I love you so much I don’t even know what to do with myself sometimes. I want you to know that, even if it feels stupid to say.”

Paige juts her bottom lip out a little bit, and she leans into Azzi’s touch, leans into Azzi, getting close enough to her that Azzi can feel her breath on her lips when she murmurs, “Promise?”

“Promise,” she echoes, and she does. She stays where she is, letting Paige decide whether she wants to move away or close the gap, and she almost gasps when Paige bridges the space between them, even though she sees it coming. It’s a soft, tentative kiss, like they’re trying to remember how to fit together, trying to be gentle with each other in the way they weren’t four days ago, trying to say I love you and I’m sorry and I promise all at once.

It takes a moment to catch her breath when they separate because Azzi’s heart and lungs had already nearly forgotten what it was like to kiss Paige, but by the time she finds her voice again, she says, “Can you promise me something, too?”

Cupping Azzi’s face in her hands, Paige nods and pecks her on the lips.

“If we ever find ourselves here again, please do me a favor and dump me. Like, don’t be nice about it, either. Pull a Regina George and sabotage me, or something.”

Paige stares at her for a moment, and then she laughs, that loud, full laugh that Azzi loves so much. “You’re ridiculous.”

Something inside Azzi slides into place, like she’s been missing a vital organ and just got a life-saving transplant. “I’m serious! You need to have some self-respect, baby.”

“How about,” Paige kisses her again, “we just try not to find ourselves here again. Yeah?”

“Seriously,” Azzi says, more to herself than Paige, “you have such good ideas.”

Paige giggles, calls her a dork, and kisses her. Just like that, everything is right in the world once again.

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I Hate The New Hero

Chapter 12: I Swear To God...

Meanwhile, you didn't get the pleasure of going to sleep like Dick did. Your identity is as good as compromised. If only you had enough money to leave… 

Pacing around your room you try to think of what to do. The best option would be leaving - not just Gotham, but America as a whole. But, where would you go? Where would you get the money for a ticket AND the money to start over? 

You could sell some of your gear, or become a henchman - it’d only be for a bit! Just until you can get your money up, then you’d quit and make your escape. Yeah. That could work. But, did you really have it in you? To harm and steal? To know you’d been the cause of so many people’s lives? You couldn’t do that.

Sighing you sit down in your bed and pray for the night to finish so you can go to school.

-

Tim, however, is stuck at Bruce’s desk as Bruce monologues about how important it is to respond to messages in a timely manner. He forgot to message Bruce back about whatever he messaged him. 

“- Honestly, what would have happened if I was in trouble, or one of your brothers were in trouble and you decided to not respond.” Bruce states, it was rhetorical and Tim holds back an eye roll. The message wasn’t even that important… Okay, it kinda was. But, school got in the way and he kinda forgot.

“Well? What are we going to do now? If Y/N is Aranea that means-” Tim cuts off Bruce’s rant, already plotting. “That means we’re going to keep this information under wraps. We forgo plan A. If Y/N finds out we know she’d freak. Same with the others.”

The two talk for a bit longer, making up a new plan. After mere minutes of deliberation the two form a plan. 

-

Damian was confused and annoyed, you were an idiot, a hateful, disgusting and vile idiot. Yet, he was nothing if not observant, he noticed how you share the same figure as Aranea, he noticed how the ‘hair’ is a wig, he noticed all these things. 

However, he’d rather die than admit maybe you were Aranea, you had to be a sister or a cousin, someone else! And for you to hate your own blood family… It’s horrible to think about. Sure, he and Jason typically stay back from you, but that doesn’t mean their hatred is any lesser than the others. He’s sure Jason aches to put a bullet through your head any time word gets back to them about your shit talking.

To Damian, Aranea is an angel sent to comfort him, an older sister figure to help him vent his emotions, he doesn’t know where he’d be if it weren’t for her. What he’d be.

He won’t ever let someone extinguish her light..

-

The next day rolls around and you sit up, having barely slept. Rubbing your eyes you get up and proceed to get ready for school, trying not to think too hard about last night. When you get to school your friends aren’t waiting for you out front, weird. Shrugging it off you head inside the building - they were probably either late or getting something to eat before school.

Walking down the halls you pay no mind to Tim, who for some reason was staring at you with the same look one would give a shelter puppy - or an old dog about to be put down - it was sickening in a way, being watched by him like that. Did Dick tell him? He must’ve. That's why you’re getting the look you’re getting. 

You speed up slightly before turning into your first period class. The day passes in a blur, you don’t see your friends, Tim doesn’t talk to you, no one even looks at you. Something is wrong. Something is seriously wrong. When the day ends you waste no time in packing your things and leaving, the school’s suffocating atmosphere feels as though it’s lifted when you step out of the gates. You can’t bring yourself to head home yet, can’t bring yourself to enter another stuffy place.

Opting to walk along the grimy streets, rats scurrying by as if they were workers late to work. Everything seems to slow down for a minute as you walk, Gotham is a horrid, putrid wasteland of a place, yet for someone who has lived here all your life, you find this wasteland to be like a field of different types of flowers - colorful in ways unseen, quick to die yet surrounded by other life. No one dies alone in Gotham. Not truly. 

Your spider senses shoot to the heavens, freezing, you feel a kind of dread overcome you. Someone was watching, someone was waiting, someone was following. You're in danger. You have three options here.

You run, alerting the stalker you know of them. The person may be faster than you. 

You turn around to face the stalker, once more alerting the stalker you’re aware. You can’t tell who it is, they could be stronger than you, could have weapons.

You continue walking normally, not letting them know. This could lead to them attacking from behind.

Taking a deep breath you bend down, pretending to tie your shoelaces - you’ve been standing stationary for around ten seconds, if you started walking once more it may alert them. You soon stand up before continuing to walk.

The walk was uneasy, the presence of the person causing your spider senses to react violently, headaches, nausea, dizziness, the instinct to run, all of it was too much. You hated this. But discomfort is much more preferable than death. 

You curse your luck - for some reason people just weren’t around today. Though, even if they were, no one would intervene. They aren’t heroes. They wouldn’t risk their lives for a girl they don't know. 

The figure can be felt catching up to you and you bite back the scream of frustration, tears starting to rise. Why was everything so complicated?! You hate everyone! Fuck Timothy, fuck Richard, fuck Bruce and his rat son Damian, fuck Jason, fuck Stephanie, fuck Cassandra, fuck Duke, fuck Barbara - you know what? Fuck anyone who associates with that dysfunctional, borderline evil family!

You feel the person right behind you now, hell, even if you had normal senses you’d be able to tell. You turn just in time for a bag to go over your head before being knocked out. 

Taglist:

@rissareader @delias-stuff @hogwarts9 @marsmabe @randomlyappearingartist @coralaura @nervousalpacalady @citrushalo @chericia @soriansick @v0idl1nq @scrumdidiliyumyum @kittykatcreatster @feral-childs-word @anon34570 @shycreatorreview @sunny-sp3lls @fluffypackofships @cynniee @yuyuzi-ling @coffeeaddictxd @starryperson @readermommy @niggrrooo @bunbunboysworld @yanrandom @fluffypackofchips @vanilliona @wizzerreblogs @cens0r3d

[prettyprairiestables]

June 27th, 2025

Dear Horse Enthusiast,

I would like to introduce myself at the start of my new model horse photography journal. This journal is intended for my own personal amusement, but also to share with others who might take joy in my miniature horse-related hobby as well.

To be honest, this passion of mine for horses is a relatively new and unexpected project that I never expected to become involved in. I am not a horse rider, nor do I personally own a horse. As a child, I had an old, blind horse named Sunshine, but she was the only horse I had ever had and cared for. She had a sweet and gentle temper and was a petite blonde with a coat that shone in the sun, even at her advanced age. I loved her so much, and she was my only love among the horses during my childhood. As I grew older and she passed away, I once tried bonding with my little sister's horse, but it bucked me off with a wild temper, and I haven't met a horse I loved since, except Sunshine.

As many years passed, I no longer thought much of horses, until I recently watched the TV series Spirit: Riding Free for the first time. This show has unexpectedly brought back a deep-seated affection for the love of a horse that I haven't felt since I was a child riding on Sunshine's back. It dredged up those old memories I once had of my horse, and now, after watching Spirit: Riding Free, I want to bring back a piece of Sunshine in my life by creating a toy model horse ranch and posting photos and videos of my gradual progress. It's a new hobby I'd like to see come to life over time, so I can look back on how much I've progressed. I'd love to share my journey with anyone interested.

It won't be anything impressive or grand to most people, I'm sure, but it will be mine and something I can be proud of with years of dedication to look back on. I welcome you to join me in this venture as I build my toy horse ranch/farm.

To tell a little about myself, I was raised on a farm and lived with my parents, twin sister, and younger sister. We lived outside of a small town in Kansas, and my grandparents lived next to us in their house on the farm as well. My father believed strongly in the importance of hard work, so he kept his daughters busy, helping to run the farm. From sunrise to sunset, we had to ensure that all the animals were fed and cared for. Chores took priority over school or education in my father's mind, so we were instilled with the idea that hard work was more important than focusing on grades.

I personally did not do well in school, nor did I have a positive educational experience. Grade school was a nightmare for me in a small town where the teachers were bullies, not the students. I was a reticent child growing up and didn't speak much, having very few friends. Teachers back then didn't like quiet students. They felt it disrespectful if their students did not speak up or respond to their questions. As a result, I was the student who was always in trouble, getting hit over the head, spanked in front of the class, humiliated, or sent to the hallway for punishment for not speaking or responding to questions.

However, I always felt a sense of love when I came home to my animals on the farm after getting off the school bus every day. My animals saved me from the troubles I had in school, and I have loved animals all my life. They are what keep me happy in the saddest parts of life, and I cannot live without the companionship of my animals, because they are a big part of who I am.

Now that I have lived my life in my mid-40s, I have been happily married for over 25 years, and I have three amazing grown boys who have all left the nest. I need something to do with my time, to be honest. And since I am a child at heart, this new hobby of mine might be a good distraction that I need while my husband is away at work. Ironically speaking, my husband is a teacher and has been teaching for many years now. He has never been a bully to his students, so he is nothing like the teachers I had as a child.

On a different note, let's see how far I can progress with my new horse ranch and farm. I know it will take a lot of time and money, sadly, so it will be a slow-going project. But just a few weeks ago, I started staining my horse fences and building horse jump rods for my horses.

I currently have the horse stable and the front part of the pasture set up, but I'm not ready to post pictures just yet because it still needs some minor adjustments. However, I should have something to show you by next week.

Thank you all for taking the time to read this and join in on my new adventure of creating a horse village/farm. I look forward to seeing what comes from it.

~Clara B.

[revelboo]

Hi Revel, how are things? I hope you’re doing better!

Apparently, my stalker, the one I thought I’d gotten rid of two years ago, is back to harassing me, and I’m about ready to commit a crime out of sheer rage. Would you mind sharing an update of Gravity to help distract me from my thoughts of kicking his creepy ass?

Sure! Hopefully he gets bored and leaves you be soon! 🔞 mass displaced mech 🌶️

Gravity Pt 17

Optimus x Reader

• Spark aching when you don’t reply, it’s not like he’s surprised. You’re prickly like that sometimes. Like to tease and joke, but you almost look panicked when things get too real. “You don’t love me,” you say, hips rolling. “You love this. Love the idea of being in love.” And he frowns as you stare down at him, your hands on top of his. You’re smiling, but your eyes are distant, seeing something else entirely, lost in your own thoughts. “You don’t really know me, honey.”

• Wouldn’t say stupid things like that he loves you if he did know you. Because he’s genuinely good and you’re not. Not even close. “If you talked to me, I would,” he growls, big hands flexing on you, pinning you in place so you can’t move on him, but you can feel his spike pulsing inside you. “You don’t know me, either.” And he sounds almost hurt to make you feel guilty.

• “I know guys like you, boy scout,” you counter, scowling down at him. “You think I need to be rescued. You’re in love with that, not me.” Venting, he slides his palms up your body. Do you really think that? “No one ever rescued me when I needed it and I don’t need it anymore.” Those gorgeous eyes are defiant as you meet his optics. Angry and beautiful, wonders what you’d say if he told you he’d kneel at your feet and worship you with his mouth and body every day if you’d just let him. That you’re his temple, his peace.

• “I see you,” he says on a growl, a servo pressing against a scar on your hip. Asking silently. “Even if you are the most infuriating person I’ve ever met.” Snorting at him, you look at the old ridge of pale, scar tissue. The map of your body a testament to having survived, because people always talk about life like it’s an experience, a journey. Maybe for those people it is, for you, life was something that happened to you. “I’d like to know you, if you’d just talk to me.” And then he’ll run, won’t look at you the same way. He’ll realize you’re not worth his time, his love. The perverse part of you that understands that good things like him don’t belong to people like you, wants to see it burn, to be the one to set it on fire because you’re in control then.

• “You make one bad decision. And it’s not even that big a deal,” you say, fingers sliding against the line of scar on your side, time distracted like you’re confessing. “Skip some classes, hang out with the wrong people, try some things you shouldn’t, and after a certain point, you can’t seem to stop sliding.” And your head falls back as your eyes fix on some middle ground only you can see. “I’m not good like you are. I’m angry. Almost all the time.”

• Angry and afraid, so you talk tough, cop an attitude like nothing can touch you. And he sits up under you suddenly, a big hand dragging you to him, his mouth crashing against yours in rough dominance. His cheek brushing yours while he’s vents on a growl. “Good?” He demands, servos flexing against your neck and jaw. “I was supposed to end this war, to light my people’s darkest hour and I led us to destroying our own world in a never ending battle. I failed them all. I did the ugly things and survived even when I didn’t always want to and they’re all looking to me.” His helm bumps against you, resting against your head and you grip his arm. “If anything, you’re the one who should be ashamed of me.”

Previous

[reignpage]

“Nanami Kento had another encounter with the nameless mermaid. Many such, in fact. Some of these encounters are details in letters he sent letters to Professor Yaga. They detailed his recent discoveries and confirmation of months of his research building up to his posting in Gibraltar.

Excited, he told him everything, barring the budding romantic feelings he knew he should not have encouraged for fear that the respected professor would question his priorities and admonish him. While waiting for a reply, the student dedicated the remaining day since he recorded his first late-night meeting with the specimen to overcoming the issue to do with his incapability to swim.

In his rush, one can only assume, he made no record of what spell or device he had discovered and used, though there are many theories to be had. This remains a great tragedy.

Later in the day, he took to the sea in a rush and agreed with the mermaid to go somewhere secluded, where they would not be seen by another in broad daylight, and decided upon a nearby cave accessible only by boat or strong swimmers.

Part of the meeting was recorded by the student via Pluma Memoria and the transcripts were recovered some time later alongside contextual notes made by him.

As we all know, the Inter-dimensional Research Committee and St. Eden's Board of Administration's issued formal requests for the exiled student to relinquish all of his possessions related to his research, including information on how to enter the underwater kingdom, their weaponry, their political system, and just as importantly, the specimen.

These requests were denied.

It is unclear why.

In today's class, we still study the excerpt, focusing especially on the historical and cultural significance of Nanami Kento's rebellion and asking ourselves the question:

Did he regret it?”

Nameless Specimen: I've been watching you.

Kento: I thought you might have. Somehow, I felt you, I think. Something was encouraging me, urging me forward. It was odd but...comforting.

Nameless Specimen: I understand…I was not supposed to want you to find me. My pod have tasked me with ensuring people like you never find our home. And indeed, I worked tirelessly to lead others astray, leaving what they thought were clues so they would search in circles and grow frustrated. But just an afternoon spent following you revealed a truth I cannot verify: you are different. You are not like the others who have come before you.

Kento: I'm not?

Nameless Specimen: No…they were fuelled by greed, by a desire to reap all the wealth off our land. They trample over the wildlife, made no effort to connect with the villagers, choosing arrogance over community, and relied solely on their spells and potions. It was the kind of laziness and irreverence that confirmed the decision our ancestors made a long time ago — keep the gates to Atlantis closed.

Kento: And no one has ever been successful?

She held my hands and swam us around the jagged floor of the sea, tickling the bellies of fish as she went. I was growing more and more accustomed to her anatomy, to the point that the agility of her scaled tail did not surprise me anymore, though the captivating colour of them never waned in my eyes.

Nameless Specimen: Only once. Two men. Students just like you. One was closed off but polite, the other friendly but deceitful. My ancestors welcomed them in, nursed them back to health after their ship hit the rocks and capsized, and even shared our air so that they may tour our home. Back then, my people had not known the cruelty and gluttony of others. They were simply excited to learn about the outside world and to exchange wisdom.

I kept quiet. She was sharing knowledge I would have killed to hear just weeks ago. Now, I was grimacing, much too aware of man's potential for destruction. History lessons were not without constant warnings for the new generations to do better. To be better.

Nameless Specimen: The polite one, records say, was truly interested to learn, to be a part of our community. He was energetic and enthusiastic. It did not take very long for him to be seen as one of us…And the other…had his eyes on our gold, our pearls, and our scales. During their stay, people went missing. Even our young. It was a slow, eventual development. At least, that is how it is explained to us. I believe our Elders simply do not wish to confront the fact that our people were just naive. They knew the truth of that visitor from another land and chose to trust in the kindness of one another than aggrieve their guests with accusations...until it was too late.

Kento: ...what happened?

Nameless Specimen: He must have developed some sort of contraption. It is hard to say exactly what happened...the devastation was far and wide. To this day, we mourn our loss and feel the echoes of the tragedy. Whatever he had found or received caused death on a scale unfathomable to our young… The Elders do not like to talk about this part but whispers among my peers claim that one morning, our people awoke and could not see through the thick cloud of blood thickening the water.

I gasped. A deep pit formed in my stomach and it has not left since. I do not think it will ever. There was a sad smile on her lips, like she pitied her ancestors and resented the innocence of her people at the same time, though, ultimately, she could not blame them.

Nameless Specimen: That day…they released more bodies into the field of lights than they ever had prior. Generations lost. Bloodlines ended. Dignity stolen. The dead were stripped of their scales, fins, hearts and eyes. Sold, I can only imagine, to the highest bidder. The hardest part of it all was identifying who was who. There remains to this day a large section of the field housing the bodies of those who were never claimed.

I was speechless. No words could ever be uttered to begin to apologise for the crimes that were committed, for the injustice, for the murder of so many. I know them not, but I hold them in my heart. The sins of the past will be brought to life. I will be sure of it.

Kento: I am so sorry. That should never have happened. W-we have laws, regulations, a-an honour code to abide by. I'll tell my school, my professor. Everyone. We will advocate for reparations, a galaxy-wide apology—

Nameless Specimen: That is not necessary. We grieve in our own way. And in any case, we know not everyone is bad. That's why I'm here. Why the two of us can be together like this…We do not want to stay closed off forever. There is a whole world out there that my people deserve to see. We do not want to live in fear for eternity. There might even come a time where we must rely on the help of others for the future of our pod. It is therefore up to my generation to prepare for that. To change and innovate. We will soon welcome others like you…Never again will we be exploited like that. We have learnt. Adapted. Survived. That is the way of my people.

She swam around me, grazing her tail against my legs. Her lips brushed my cheek.

Nameless Specimen: In the meantime, I hope this is enough for you.

Kento: It is. You are.

She laughed, bubbles escaping.

Nameless Specimen: Thank you for listening. I have never shared this before. We don’t get visitors at all. There are not even others like us…as far as we know.

Kento: No, thank you for sharing. I learnt so much. For this, I will forever be indebted to you.

Nameless Specimen: I learnt much from you too. While I watched you fumble about on the surface, you spoke on and on about interesting facts about your world. Spells you were frustrated by. Potions you wanted to perfect. Professors you disliked and classes you missed. It was all so entertaining. You are an interesting man.

I was awestruck by her beauty and the tender warmth with which she spoke to me. The sound of her voice, the melodic bliss it elicits, the comfort…I feel as though I am still in the cave with her — weightless and free.

Kento: You're the first person to have ever said that to me…Most people find me annoying. Even my best friend. Though I rather think that is because I remind him of a lecturer, which he has naturally learnt to tune out automatically.

Nameless Specimen: That is unfortunate. A smart man like you must be heard, no? That is how we function in my pod; everything worth saying must be heard in an assembly. Every voice is equal to begin with, but the brighter minds deserve a special respect. You are one such.

Her revelation made me blush. It was embarrassing but she only smiled patiently. Of course, I have heard my fair share of compliments — winning as many awards as I have would warrant that. But, when those flatteries leave her lips, I felt inclined to shy away from such niceties.

Kento: You barely know me…

Shaking her head, she pulled herself closer to me until we were flushed together. To that, I did not shy away from. Not when it felt right.

Nameless Specimen: I feel as though I have lived a lifetime with you.

Kento: I do too...I feel as if I...loved you in a past life. And in the next.

She smiled again and placed a hand on my cheek. I was surprised to find the flexibility in her joints, webbed as they are. Her thumb adjusted my glasses which were threatening to float away from me.

Nameless Specimen: It is odd, is it not? For two souls to have just collided and feel this way...it seems as if we have been veering off course, heading straight for each other.

I don't know what expression I held. But something about it made her eyes soften, not in pity but something akin to sadness. For herself and for me. Like she thought it a universe's worth of regret to have met so late. Like she knew, since having met her, I've realised that all my life I have only ever known loneliness. Like she felt the same way.

Then, she reached out and met my lips.

I feel no shame in admitting much of the time we spent together is dedicated to talking about things which held no special importance, and to kissing. There was much more to be learned from her lips and her body than words, I believe. It is because of her that I became privy to the secrets of the universe and beyond all while tethered to the only home I felt bound to.

Her kisses spoke of promises. They breathed life into me. Urged me to desire for more than shallow trophies and meaningless discoveries.

We joined together like we've done it many times before.

These moments filled me with a new sense of purpose.

They were moments to protect, to cultivate, to watch grow.

They were moments I would cherish till my last breath...

[justabeewithapen]

Hi! So as I’m writing the fanfic for your TV AU, can you explain Tenna’s roles between the Light World and the Dark World in detail? Like, what happens when class is in session and when it’s out of session? I want it to be as accurate as possible lol 🌈🎨🎭

This is going to be a wall of text so take this doodle as a little treat ehehehe!

Starting with the Lightworld! As the new classroom TV (they didn’t have an old one but he still takes this responsibility very seriously!!) his main use is on Fridays when the kids get to watch a bit of a movie or documentary or episode of a show (all educational of course) at the end of class. He also gets use on days when they have tests planned or if it is too rainy/cold outside to hold recess. When he was first moved into the classroom he was only brought into the room when it was one of those special TV Time occasions, but now, he practically lives in the corner on his TV Cart.

The reason he gets to hang around the classroom even when it isn’t TV Time is because the kids in Toriel’s classroom have sort of adopted him as a class pet! Now, these are younger kids, they didn’t need an excuse to love a TV (anything to not do class work, even if Toriel often gives them worksheets to fill out during TV Time) but Susie’s been putting in WORK! She made sure these little kids knew his name and how “very cool” he was, spinning them tales of “Mr. Tenna’s adventures” with a few very inserts of other Darkners (especially Lancer). Is she just mostly stealing plots from movies she has seen? Oh 100%, but she promised him an audience that would care about him again, and by goodness she is going to deliver!!

Him and his TV stand tend to live in the corner of Toriel’s classroom when not in use, though he does still spend time in the extra classroom for storage or the storage closet (aka Castle Town). Susie and/or Kris are known to move him there after school gets out for hanging out purposes. Sometimes in Toriel’s classroom he gets used, but not even as a TV! During those rainy/cold days him and his TV stand make for a perfect support in a blanket fort, or a base for a block tower on his shelves. Sometimes he even gets to visit the older kid classroom (usually after big projects or tests) and he gets to see his stars again…

While outside of the dark world he isn’t *technically* sentient, but he is still aware and watching from his side even if that side only exists when he is in the dark world. Speaking of!

Castle town/his perspective on things!!

While not actually able to interact with the class, he takes his role as a TV Teacher very very seriously! During times when he is playing a show or movie he is always commentating and quipping on the action and “fun facts” related to what is being watched, even though the kids can’t hear him. He always makes sure his outfit is properly thematic for the lesson that day, as (once again even if they can’t interact with him) he wants to give these kids his very best! When not being actively watched by the kids, he’s still watching them. Obviously he still has… way too many unaddressed anxieties relating to Toriel, but he enjoys hearing her teach and is frequently taking notes in the same way the kids are! Occasionally, if Toriel isn’t reading or grading something important, she’ll turn on the cable and idly listen while getting work done. (He has complicated feelings about this but it’s generally a positive!)

When back in Castletown he is spending his time preparing boards, quizzes, and physical challenges relating to the stuff that happened in class that day, all of which he is incredibly enthusiastic about sharing with the Fun Gang. Is most of it below their grade level, yeah, but he’s really trying! He also goes out of his way to try and be helpful around Castletown, volunteering for building projects or clean up or mini games however he is needed (he very desperately wants to feel needed).

Hopefully all of this makes sense and I am happy to clarify any points that don’t!! My head is still pretty foggy so I’m sure I said something screwy that needs a bit more context XD

[gugudalala]

ft. sae itoshi / rin itoshi x reader

synopsis: They grew up together, hearts quietly entwined — even when Sae left for America. Now that Sae's back, Rin is done watching from the sidelines and pushes his way between them, Sae's long-suppressed jealousy boils over — the quiet bond they once shared threatens to erupt into something far more dangerous.

TW: smut with plot, spanking, degradation, size kink, unprotected, praise, ect+++

words: 1155

A/N. I do not own any of the character or picture (credit to the rightful owner) only the plots are mine. 

Enjoy ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

CH: 1 | 2 | 3

────୨ৎ────

"Rin, please stop" he pushed you back onto the door as you both got inside his room. With both his hands on the side of your head, kissing so passionately. When you try to escape only for him to force you back into the kiss. 

‘How... how did it come to this?’ 

Sae just returned for a family visit. You've known each other since we were kids, growing up in the same neighborhood and even sharing the same class. Then there's Rin, Sae’s younger brother. He’s always been around, even when Sae wasn't. When you were younger, you found it adorable how Rin looked up to his older brother. Even after Sae left, Rin kept showing up—asking for help with homework, tests, anything to stay close.

But over time, Rin began to change. He started to grow into someone who reminded me more and more of Sae—your first love… and your darkest secret.

You were just having a normal family dinner, with his parents and yours, celebrating Sae’s return. With Sae sitting right beside you, you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter every time your eyes met. But that moment didn’t last—because then Rin caught your gaze, stood up without a word, and pulled you into his room before anyone even noticed.

Pulling away from the kiss "The way you looked at him… Why? I've always been here for you. Why can’t you look at me like that? What does he have that I don’t?" 

"Rin, please…" Confused by his actions, your heart stumbles. All this time, you believed he was just the younger brother of the one you once loved — one you never saw coming.

"You were so excited all morning, dressing so well... just because my brother was coming back?" pushing you into his bed, he reached into your skirt cupping onto my heat "Look at how wet you are, hopping for my brother to fuck you, don't you" his finger move your panties aside as he tease and thrust his finger into you. You can't help but squirm but his hand held you into place "listen to it" lewd squelching sound filled up the room, you can't help but listen to how wet you were. “Such a good girl being wet and ready to be fuck” Feeling of shame creeping up on you, this is just not right. His finger reached all the spots that had never been played with, pleasuring you like never before — and you don’t want him to stop. Each thrust is hard and fast and as you were about to reach your climax, he pulled out along with your panties. Looking back at him, he was licking his finger, cleaning off your juices, you can’t help but blush by his action

Getting on top of you, he pulled down his pants. Realizing how far this would go, you tried to escape him only to be dragged down by your leg toward him. “Rin, we should not be doing this… I have never done it before” you plead only for his eyes to light up “Then let me have it,  I won’t watch him steal what I’ve waited for all along." He slipped the dress off your shoulders, only to shove it upward, trapping your arms, and locking you in place. When your eyes met his, the air shifted, there was no mistaking it, the heat in his gaze said everything — raw, undeniable desire. He adjusted himself on you, spreading your leg and slowly pushed into you. Stretching and filling you out. You can’t help but to cry out only for him to kiss back your scream. He started moving while giving you small kisses around your face while keeping his thrust slow. “Rin..” you moaned “You are taking me so well” he praised as he kissed away your tears as he adjusted his place and moved faster.

The room is filled with the sound of your skin slapping against each other, while your arm is still trapped by your dress both his hands on your side pushing you toward his thrust. You almost reached your climax but then he suddenly pulled out, again. Flushed and whining “Rin?” you asked but only to be flip onto your stomach with your hip up in the air. He pushed right back in, this time thrusting deep and slowly edging you “Please, please” already breathless and crying from how sensitive you are. He's making you almost cum over and over again, you tried to bounce back into him as you felt the heat coming back but once again he pulled out before you could even cum

Pulling out he moved back, sitting on the bed with his black to the bed frame “Do it yourself” Looking straight at you he demanded “If you want to cum, help yourself” Looking into his eyes, buried by the tears. He's been edging you for hours and you want nothing more but to cum, hard. Even knowing that it is wrong you can’t help but get onto him, removing all your clothes you got on top of him, breath shaky as you sit up “Good girl, you don't know how long I have been waiting” he reaches and tugs some strain of hair behind your ear, tracing down onto your lip with another hand reaching down teasing your clit  “Whatever you're feeling right now—it’s not even half of what I’ve felt, waiting, aching for you all this time. You have no idea what it’s been like" he pushed his finger into your mouth at the same time with his other hand inside you, both your mouth getting filled and played with, making you see the star.

Once he pulled out, both hands reaching for your sides "Go ahead, take what you want” dropping your hip onto him, feeling him filling you to the top. “Too much” you cry trying to stop but only to be pushed down more by him. “All of it, take it all” With him gripping your side he pushed upward while holding you down. Desperately holding onto his shoulders as he drives his cock into your sloppy cunt. The heat came rushing back afraid he was going to stop once again. You bounced back down, meeting his thrust and finally coming on him, and with a few more thrust he comes into you

Within a moment, he pushed you down to your back, not letting you catch your breath before sliding back in “Rin! — Wait, I just came” your voice breaks, reaching toward him to stop but he uses that opportunity to grab both your hands and pull you toward his trust “Shh… you’re doing good, one more” he grunts, rocking his hips again, again, and again.

You didn’t even know how long you had been going for, but you woke in his arms as the first light of morning crept in—unaware of the shadow that had lingered all night beneath Rin’s door, silently listening.

[gyurilla]

margins m jaehyun

jaehyuh x reader

genre; angst, fluff, rivals to lovers, uni students to graduates

wc; 1.2k

you didn’t cry when the professor handed back your paper.

but your hands shook.

182.

you stared at the number for a long time. cold. hollow

you had spent three nights on this. you barely slept. barley ate. you skipped your friend’s birthday dinner to finish that last paragraph.

you wanted it.

it wasn’t just the grade.

it was the fact that you knew — you just knew — jaehyun did better.

because he always did.

you told yourself it didn’t matter anymore.

that you’d matured past the constant race.

but when you walked out of the lecture hall and heard the TA laugh and say “wow, 197 again, as usual!”

and saw him flash that polite, infuriating smile—

something in you broke.

he was kind to others

but you, it was a whole different story..

he gave you these looks that made you feel stupid, like you were clueless.

Ი︵𐑼

you locked yourself in a bathroom stall.

not to cry.

you didn’t cry.

you just sat there. for a long time.

listening to the sound of your own breath, trying not to fall apart.

why did it still matter?

why did he still matter?

Ი︵𐑼

you used to think of jaehyun as a rival.

now?

you think he’s just proof that maybe you were never as smart as you thought you were.

Ი︵𐑼

the final assignment is worth 40%.

And for some reason — maybe to be poetic, maybe to be cruel — the professor pairs you with jaehyun.

you hear your name next to his and your stomach turns.

the whole class turns to look at the “dream team.”

but you know the truth.

you are the one always chasing him.

Ი︵𐑼

you split the work. silently.

no texting. no meetings. just shared folders and quiet edits.

you do what you always do: stay up until your back aches, redline your paragraphs to death, question every sentence until you hate them all.

you print everything, annotate it by hand, underline your own flaws in pen so permanent it bleeds.

and then — you see it.

you get a printed section back from him.

and in the margin, tucked in between your lines:

“this is really bad.”

you stop.

blink, the tears began to fall.

you gave it back the same day, tear stained the paper, his eyes widened but you didnt see that.

Ი︵𐑼

by the next week, he gave you back your rewritten paper

you see more notes, you hands are sweaty now but..

“your citations are sharper”

“i rewrote my whole section after reading yours”

“honestly i’ve always liked your writing.”

“sometimes i wonder if you know how good you are.”

your fingers go still.

he never said anything like that before. not in years.

not since your first year, when you both answered a question at the same time and he smiled like he didn’t mind losing.

you remember that smile.

you remember.

but that was before everything turned into this cold, quiet war.

Ი︵𐑼

you keep the papers.

not out of sentiment.

but because you don’t know how to respond.

you can’t write back.

because if you do, everything will spill out, all that built up anger.

all the ways you hated walking into a lecture knowing he’d do better.

all the ways you wished he’d say something like that before.

you don’t write back.

but the next time he sends you a draft —

you find more margins..on his own paper? like he was trying to befriend you..

“you got the internship last year. I heard. You deserved it.”

“i didn’t apply. i knew you would get it.”

“i’ve never told anyone this. but you’re the reason i push myself.”

“im scared i’ll never catch up to you.”

you read those lines at 3:17 a.m.

you cried so hard, you thought you were the one chasing him.

and all this time, he thought the same thing.

Ი︵𐑼

when you see him again, you almost can’t look at him.

you sit across from him at a library table, and he’s already reading. already halfway through a book you haven’t even opened.

it makes you angry.

“i read what you wrote,” you say.

he doesn’t look up. “i figured.”

“why now?”

he flips a page. calm. “because we’re graduating soon. and i dont think i’ll get another chance to talk to you.”

you stare at him. “so you only speak to me through paper?”

“i didn’t think you’d want to hear it out loud, and isnt it a bit romantic?”

silence.

and then, low — like a confession:

“i thought you hated me.”

your laugh breaks, bitter. “i thought you did.”

he looks up.

“you were always ahead,” you whisper. “and you always looked so calm. like it didn’t even matter.”

“it did,” he says. “but i thought if i looked like it mattered, i’d lose you completely.”

you flinch. “you never had me.”

he swallows hard.

“i know..”

Ი︵𐑼

the final draft is due in two days.

when you print yours, it’s covered in red ink. not his. youre. you critique yourself before anyone else can, its not even on purpose..you grew into a habit of doing it.

but when you pass him the pages, he just stares.

“why do you tear yourself apart like this?” he asks softly.

you shrug and looked away, he flips to the last page.

stares at the blank margin.

then, slowly, he pulls out a pen.

“you were always better than me.”

“but i liked it because it meant i got to stay near you even if you didnt see me.”

you scoff, but you wait until he leaves.

then you fold that page.

and keep it.

not because of what it says.

but because it’s the first time someone saw you — really saw you — and didn’t want to beat you.

they just wanted to be next to you.

Ი︵𐑼

you graduated.

he did too.

bo grand goodbye. no final conversation, just a simple congratulations and you walked off.

you moved cities.

he stayed close.

and every now and then—mutual friends, random tagged photos—you see him.

jaehyun.

still sharp. still quiet.

still the boy who wrote in your margins.

you kept the page.

the last one.

folded it three times, tucked in the inside your wallet, corny..you know but it meant everything to you.

“you were always better than me

“but i liked it because it meant i got to stay near you even if you didnt see me.”

you read it more than you should.

when work gets hard.

when you’re tired.

when you forget you’re capable of anything.

somehow… it still helps.

and then one night, out of nowhere—

jaehyun: coffee? i miss you

you brought the page.

Ი︵𐑼

he was already there when you walked in.

blsck hoodie. head down. same quiet posture, like always.

“hey” he said when he noticed you.

“hey.”

it wasn’t awkward.

it was just… full. with everything you never said.

you slid the paper onto the table between you.

“i kept it.”

he stared at it. then at you.

“i wanted to say something,” he murmured. “back then. i just… didn’t think you felt the same, and i was pretty shy..”

you smiled faintly. “i wish you did..”

a pause.

and then—

“i love you,” he said, quiet but steady. “i think i have for a while.”

you wrote in the margin beneath his words.

“i loved you first.”

he looked down. laughed once, softly.

“i was hoping you’d say that.”

Ი︵𐑼

ju; @lvlyhiyyih I HOPE THIS WAS GOOD SWEET CHEEKS

masterlist

[wonyology]

The Years Next Door (m!reader x Babymonster's ASA) - part III

part I - part II - part IV (coming, hopefully soon)

Summary: Enami Asa - one of, if not the most important person in your life - moved in next door a few years ago. You didn't know it back then. It started with an awkward first meeting, a shared family dinner and washing dishes together. Looking back now, you still remember it like it was yesterday. But when did things change between two of you? You don't know for sure - once things shifted, there was no going back for either of you.

tags(?): fluff, ups and downs, angst, you'll see when you read it

ASA x yourself/Original Male Character

Word count: ~17k - i didn't even know it was gonna be this long lol, umm maybe u guys can guess the ending while waiting for part IV? have fun~~ (also i took some inspirations from 'twinkling watermelon', you'll know the scene when u see it)

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

2020

That feeling - a little too comfortable, a little too complicated to explain. Neither you nor Asa ever brought it up, so life just kept moving. 

Walking to school together, sharing headphones, snacks, umbrellas… You two were like that one couple in a teenage romance that clearly liked each other but never got together, even at the end. Always orbiting, never colliding.

Spending time with her, however, was never boring. Asa usually spoke in Japanese whenever she was mad, or when she didn’t want you to understand something. Huh, that somehow made you fall for her even harder. Over time, you also started picking up on the patterns. You noticed how Asa always covered her mouth whenever she smiled or laughed really hard at your dumb jokes. You noticed how Asa always slipped into a trance when she was sketching, writing - like she was in her own world, brows almost touching each other like the sketchbook owed her something. She still denies it now, but you know, you always pay attention to her. Maybe too much, sometimes.

She was chasing her own ambitions, but she never forgot you were there. You’d moved to sit behind her, part of you missed sitting beside her - taking a glance at Asa whenever you wanted, her daydreaming in class, the way she looked at you whenever she came across a difficult question in an exam, or her nodding off during afternoon classes… Cute.

But hey, sitting behind Asa also had its perks. Whispering dumb jokes, poking her with your pen just to get a reaction, talking about those dumb discussions on the Internet… The best part, you could play with her hair. With the other boys, Asa was friendly, nice but not one of them was ever this close to her. You were the only who she allowed, or maybe even encouraged to braid, twist or just fidget her hair in class. There was this one time, the teacher couldn’t make it to class. Your classroom was a war zone - noises, laughter, chaos everywhere. You were zoning out, probably thinking of something dumb while looking out the window, like whether people in Seoul would realistically survive if a zombie outbreak ever broke out? (Your guess: a big no no). Just then, Asa shook her head a few times, her long hair brushing against your hands. What was she trying to do? She turned around, lips slightly puckered, pretending to be annoyed. Then she playfully slapped your hands with her hair before turning back around, face slightly blushing.

Oh. My bad. Right away, princess,

What about you? Well, aside from Asa and a few of your hobbies - it felt like all you did back then was chasing medals and taekwondo practice. Homework piled up. Training never seemed to stop. Your limbs ached more than usual. Maybe it was starting to get to you. Did you really enjoy taekwondo? 

Amidst all that, Asa always noticed whenever you were worn out. She would slip a note to you in class, with cute doodles saying: 

“힘내~” (Fighting~)

“괜찮아? ㅇㅅㅇ”  (Are you ok? ㅇㅅㅇ) 

“뭐생각행 ^^” (What are you thinking^^)

Those always cheered you up, even if you were too tired to show it. Walking to school and back home with her, still your favorite part of the day. 

And then… the world changed. Covid hit.

At first, you all thought it was cool to have an unexpected break. Then school was postponed, online classes became the norm. It stopped being fun pretty fast. No more poking at her with your pen, or playing with her hair.

Both of your dads, being doctors at the same research center, knew how dangerous it was. They tried not to scare everyone, but the way they came home tired, quiet after work just showed. It even got to the point that they had to limit how often you and Asa could visit - even though you lived next door. Then one day, they didn’t come home at all. They had to be quarantined - staying at the research center for over 2 months, working day and night.

The world was harsh on everyone, on your families. But hey, you and Asa had each other.

You talked through the window late at night, voices low, sometimes even scratchy through the glasses. Or you would wait until everyone is asleep, then slide the windows open just enough to hear each other. 

“Asa-ah?”

“Huh?”

“Nothing, just bored.”

She laughed, quietly. “Me too.”

“Do you think our dads are okay?” she asked, the way a good daughter would - trying hard not to sound too worried.

“I think so. My dad just called my mom, she said she saw your dad sleeping on the floor in the background” you replied, just loud enough for her to hear.

“I hope they come home soon.” Me too.

If it was hard to hear what each other said, you both got creative and turned into that guy and Taylor Swift in the “You belong to me” music video - holding up boards and writing what you wanted to say.  Sometimes, you two didn’t even know what to say. Just there to enjoy each other’s presence. Listening to the same night air. Just two windows apart. It was just about being there.

Late night movie watching was fun too. You both tried to start the movie at the same time - “Wait for me, okay? Three… two, ONE!” - sometimes through video calls, sometimes through your windows with screens glowing in the dark. It felt nice, looking over and seeing each other’s reaction from the window or on the corner of the video call. Other times, you’d watch her instead of the movie.

“Wi Ha Joon looks hot. I think he’d be a great boyfriend.” she commented, while you two were binging Squid Games one night. 

“Really? I mean, he looks good. Don’t know about the boyfriend part tho.” you replied, a hint of jealousy in your voice.

“Girls’ instinct. He’s handsome, 6 pack, and I watched his interviews too. You wouldn’t know.” she smirked.

Ouch. Excuse me, I’m not bad myself, I got girls chasing me too by the way. I do taekwondo so, duh.  And I treat you like a princess… Maybe even when we are just friends. Well… friends?

That night after finishing a few episodes, your windows went dark. Your phone suddenly lit up.

[김아사🌸]

yah…

you’re not mad at me or anything, right?

the wi ha joon thingy…

You left it on read, maybe for too long. You didn’t know how to reply right away. Not because you were mad. Just processing. She said he would be a great boyfriend just like that. Like you wouldn’t understand. Okay, maybe you were a bit salty? You had abs, thanks to taekwondo practice. You won competitions, girls liked you. She said it, like it meant nothing. 

[준혁선베🥋]

nah

not mad

[김아사🌸]

ㅜㅜ u only text short like this when ur mad

Gotcha. But what were you supposed to say?

[준혁선베🥋]

no im not mad

what are u saying ㅋㅋㅋ

[김아사🌸]

i was just joking 

i don’t mean it like that

i just say dumb things like that sometimes

You were in no position to be mad at her for something like this. Asa didn’t owe you anything. It just stung… Maybe just a little bit.

[준혁선베🥋]

what are u saying, kim asa?

i know you’re joking ㅎㅎ

i’m just a bit tired, math class fried my brain today

[김아사🌸]

ooh me tooo

but you’re good at math, i slept the whole class today ㅋㅋㅋ

You really hoped she didn’t know you were bluffing. Your brain weren’t fried from math class. Her voice was just in your head:

“I think he’d be a great boyfriend”. What about me?

[준혁선베🥋]

i should report u to ms. sieun

[김아사🌸]

try me, you big meanie

[준혁선베🥋]

sleep before i block u, dummy

i’m getting sleepy

[김아사🌸]

it’s still early ㅜㅜ

don’t leave me up alone

nooooo

You looked at the time on the top of your phone. 1:39AM. No, it wasn’t early. You two were now just used to staying late together.

[준혁선베🥋]

go to sleep asa-ah

we still have a lot time 

gnight 

[김아사🌸]

…

okay, good night

u meanie

*emoticon of a duck crying*

Heh, cute…

You then tossed the phone aside, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

It wasn’t really something that big. But tonight felt different. Why did one offhand comment just sit with you like this? You tried your best not to give it much thought, gaslighting yourself that it was just you being childish.

Throughout Covid and all those months at home, there wasn’t a single day that you and Asa didn’t talk, text or call each other. Even when things got a bit hectic, you both tried to take a break to just be there for each other. It had become a routine. Video calls showed you sides of her that she never showed to anyone - messy bun, oversized t-shirt, the way she hugged her pillow when she was half asleep, sketching without realizing she was biting the collar of her shirt again…

“Are you still up, Kim Asa? You look like you were just dozing off.”

“No, I’m not.” she said, eyes barely open.

“You look like a ghost right now.” you smiled.

“Maybe I am. Boo.”

“Ghosts don’t send me selfies with eye masks on.”

You loved those selfies of hers. She didn’t know, but you secretly saved every single one of those. 

“Want me to hang up?” you asked.

“No… Just talk. I’ll listen.”

She always did that. Staying on the call even when she was drifting, just to hear your voice.

Then came her birthday. The streets were still quiet. Your dads were still sleeping at the research center. So you did what you could. That night, you wrote on a board: “Happy birthday Kim Asa” in big, uneven bubble letters along with a few bunnies - which you tried to cut and decorated in the cutest way possible.

[준혁선베🥋]

look outside, birthday girl

A few minutes later, her curtains twitched. She peeked out.

She squinted at the board, the broke into the softest laugh ever.

A second later, she opened her window.

“Yah, your handwriting is so bad.” she called softly.

“Hehe, happy birthday. Guess who stayed up until 3AM to cut and decorate paper bunnies?”

“You didn’t have to…”

Then you held up something - a small pink box, clumsily wrapped.

“I’ll leave by your gate later. Don’t open ‘til I say it.”

“What is it?”

“I dunno. Wi Ha Joon’s number. Maybe, if you behave.”

She rolled her eyes at you, smile still lingered.

That night, she sent you a photo of your gift, a hand-sewn felt keychain.

[김아사🌸] sent a photo.

[김아사🌸]

is this a fox? ㅋㅋㅋ

[준혁선베🥋]

excuse me? that’s a really cute rabbit, young lady

just a little mutated ㅎㅎ

still, made with my blood, sweet and tears

[김아사🌸]

ㅇㅅㅇ didn’t know you know how to sew

[준혁선베🥋]

mom taught me, sorry i didn’t get u anything meaningful

covid sucks

[김아사🌸]

noooo

i luv it ㅋㅋ

even if it’s a bit mutated lol

[준혁선베🥋]

look under its butt, there’s a piece of paper

You waited.

[김아사🌸] sent a photo.

It was a photo of a few coupons you made, a bit crumpled.

1 free snack from the school vending machine, 1 walk from home in silence (or full gossip, her choice), 1 emergency homework rescue, 1 ticket to the movies with the one and only Seo Joonhyuk. No expiration date btw.

 [김아사🌸]

ㅋㅋㅋㅋ who taught u all this

[준혁선베🥋]

use it whenever u want lol

happy birthday

[김아사🌸]

thanks for this

i really love it

really

i love it

Well done, Joonhyuk. Well done…

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Late 2020 - 2022

Things went by so fast. Online classes dragged on, until limited gatherings were permitted. Schools were partially opened, with lots of restrictions of course. Still, you were excited to see each other, in person - next to each other.

Asa seemed different. More confident. More outgoing. She started speaking more in class, becoming more active in club activities - but she was still Asa, your Asa. Still covered her laugh in the feminine, beautiful fashion, still muttered in Japanese whenever she was annoyed or shy.

And you? It felt like you got taller. Broader. Sports and taekwondo really helped. Your voice deeper, your laugh rougher. You didn’t think much of it, but Asa noticed. She was just a few centimeters shorter than you when you first met, now - she barely reached shoulder. You teased her once on the way home, calling her “pocket sized”. She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouths moved up in that way you always remembered.

People also started noticing. Your science teacher paused one day while handing out a quiz. “Huh, the two of you have grown a lot… Seems closer, too.” You just laughed it off, while Asa pretended to be busy zipping her pencil case. But she was smiling.

Your parents noticed too. One evening, you were getting something for your mom on the top shelf when dad squinted at you.

“Since when did you get taller?” 

“Really, dad? Is it that noticeable?”

“Nah, you’re still my boy.” dad grinned. “Just… over 180 now.” It surprised you too. Somewhere between all the calls, the practices, and walking home with Asa, you’d grown.

When the government finally lifted restrictions on public places, Asa wasted no time.

[김아사🌸]

joonhyuk

get dressed

we’re going out 

don’t forget to bring ur money too

It wasn’t exactly allowed. Your families would’ve scolded you both if they found out - dads being doctors, cases still high, staying inside, all that. But you’d been locked inside for what felt like decades now. Plus, being with Asa was never a bad thing. It was worth the risk. 

You secretly climbed over the wall in your backyard. She snuck out, with the help of her sisters (with much convincing). You two met each other at the corner of the block like it was a secret mission. Mask on, hoodies up, sanitizer ready in your pocket. You didn’t even ask her where you were going. But you were thinking about it in your head. 

During lockdown, Asa developed a habit. You two bombarded each other with dumb Tiktoks. But she had a pattern. Every few days, she’d send you those Tiktoks, sometimes suspicious, sometimes random. 

“Hidden cafe, ideal for couples in Apgujeong-dong”

“Up your game with these fits”

“Outfits that give K-drama main lead energy”

“Try to style your fits according to these rules”

When you asked, she said your style wasn’t bad - nice even, it just needed some upgrading.You watched every one of those and started to imagine being outside. With her.

She took you everywhere. The slightly over-priced stationary shop she called her “art heaven”. A quiet cafe with bear-shaped bottles. A tiny pop up gallery she said was “vibey but a bit underwhelming.” And then cloth shopping, for both you and her.

“Come on,” she grabbed arm before you could even protest.

“What now?”

“We need new clothes. Especially you, you’ve been dressing like a gym teacher ever since the lockdown.”

She took you to one of those small, really niche boutiques full of clothes for young people she saw on Tiktok in Seongsu-dong. Oversized shirts, clean wide pants, creative color palettes. Everything felt like they belonged on a K-drama set. As you two wandered around, she held up a beige jacket, turning it side to side before nodding to herself.

“Try this. You’re tall. This will look good.”

You just followed Asa. Didn’t argue. She picked a few more things and shoved them into your arms, rushing you into the dressing room.

You tried everything on. Stepping out, you felt like you were 7 again, trying out clothes with mom at the mall.

“See, I told you I know best.” she smiled while tilting her head. Yeah, she really does know best.

She tried on some stuff too, taking her time picking everything out. She said she “wanted your opinion”. You didn’t mind tho, it was Asa who you were spending time with. Watching her browse through those racks with a smile on her face brought you 10 days worth of happiness.

“What do you think?” she walked out, spinning around with a blush on her cheeks to give you a show.

She was in a cropped blouse with soft plural patterns, hands nervously fiddling with her sleeves. Damn, you almost forgot how to breathe.

“Too big?” 

“No.” you said, too quickly. “Looks nice, suits you really well.”

You both paused. Then smiled, sneaking out with her was worth it.

When you left the store, Asa tried to carry her bags - like always, But you stopped her with a simple “Give it to me.”

You took everything from her without waiting for a reply. And for a second, Asa looked at you like she wanted to say something, but didn’t. And honestly, she didn’t need to. You thought it was the end of the trip, until she tugged at your arm.

“One more stop.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Your hair, it’s been like that since the start of lockdown - that upside down bowl on your head.”

“Not like I had the chance to go out and cut it.”

“Right, let’s solve it right now.”

You guys arrived at a quiet little salon, the sign was mostly in Japanese, soft instrumental playing inside - one of the hidden finds she’d probably bookmarked while staying up late. This place sure smelled citrus and hairspray. As you took your seat, she scrolled through her phone and showed the stylist a muted Tiktok.

“Something like this really suits him.” She said, in Japanese.

The stylist squinted at the phone screen. She looked at you, then back at Asa with a smile.

“Oh yeah, I can see that. Are you taking your boyfriend out for a haircut?”

Asa smiled, hands waving. “Ah, no–” she answered quickly, still in Japanese. “Uhm, he’s my neighbor. We’re close friends.”

You looked at the stylist’s expression, she smiled, you didn’t speak Japanese but you knew she clearly didn’t buy whatever Asa said. No one really did when it came to the two of you. 

“Got it. So we’re doing a light trim, and soft side perm? Ivy League?”

“Yes please, Maybe keep some volume on top, uhmm… the top should be up a bit like this. Just like in the video.”

“Okay.”

What are they saying?

You’d always paid attention to your appearance ever since puberty hit, or more when Asa moved next door. Just that you always opted for that signature Korean two block cut, styling it for that wavy look every once in a while. You’d tried doing side perm in the past too, it was okay - it wasn’t your taste back then. It looked good on you, at least that was what your close friends said. You did mention wanting to try a buzz cut once. Once you told Asa that, she glared at you, threatening to end your friendship on the spot if you ever dared try it. Trying something new today won’t hurt, I guess.  

Sensing your concern, the stylist smiled. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you achieve that boyfriend material look today.”

While the stylist was working her magic, you just sat back and relaxed. Snippets of conversation here and there with her, it was comforting. Meanwhile, Asa was in the back, scrolling on her phone, pretending not to be watching your reflection the entire time. 10 minutes or haircut, 30 minutes of perming your back and sides - was done. 

The stylist stepped, feeling so proud of her work. “She wasn’t kidding when she said it would suit you.”

You caught Asa’s reflection in the mirror. Her lips pressed, cheeks lifted - trying not to smile. That smug little glow in her eyes.

“You owe me this one.”

You didn’t say it out loud, but… Damn, you were feeling yourself too. And the way she was looking at you? It made you feel even better.

On the way, you felt like she couldn’t stop stealing glances. You - carrying both your bags of new clothing, stationary items, rocking a new haircut, Asa on your side - were on cloud nine. That night, she posted a story on IG, a blurry street photo with the corner of your shoulder in frame, with Bolbbalgan4's ‘Galaxy’ playing in the background. You also posted a story on IG - a selfie with your new haircut, caption saying “New hair, same dummy”. 

See that? Comfort, peace… We were inches away from something else, something more. Almost there… Why wouldn’t either of us just say it already?

Asa didn’t stop at haircuts and clothing. That girl just kept sending you links - perfumes that smelled like “someone who reads”, sneakers that “match your vibe”, watches that scream “I’m a stylish guy, but not in a cocky way”. She really knew what suited you, better than yourself. Also, what is this? Build-a-boyfriend?

Your mom started noticing too. 

“Asa has good taste” she said once while passing by you looking at a cologne Asa recommended.

“When did you start switching to Japanese products, Joonie?” 

You knew, mom.

-

Time went by. You continued to dominate your age group, too easily - some said. After that gold medal at Jamsil Student Gymnasium, as you won more and more - you were in the eyes of the taekwondo national team board. People were sent to your house - a bunch of yes men in clean suits trying their best to convince mom and dad to let you come to Suwon, go to a sports centralized school to focus on taekwondo. 

“You’ve got real potential. You will definitely represent our country.”

Props to them, they made it sound really easy.  Like it was your only path in life. After they left, the living room felt strange but your parents were clearly impressed. However, as your dad was flipping through the brochure they left behind, he finally said after a long pause.

“They weren’t wrong, Joonhyuk-ah. You’ve work so hard for this, but…”

“It’s your life. You’re still our son. Still my little boy” mom added, wrapping her hands around your head to hug you. “We will support your choice, honey. Whatever it is.” “We have always been proud of you, kiddo.”

You didn’t say anything right away. Just nodded, grateful. The decision was heavy, but at least it was yours.

That night, you didn’t sleep. Taekwondo, parents, the neighborhood, friends, high school… everything was running around in your head when your phone suddenly buzzed.

[김아사🌸]

guess what 

i saw a tiktok

now i made toast but i used soy sauce instead of syrup ㅜㅜㅜ

ahhh, is it too late to call an ambulance?

You smiled. Oh right, if you left for Suwon, you would have to leave Asa, too… Your thumbs hovering, then finally typed.

[준혁선베🥋]

why are u like this, kim asa ㅋㅋㅋ

[김아사🌸]

the tiktok said it would taste nice

[준혁선베🥋]

drink some water and rethink your life choices 

[김아사🌸]

rude

im dying from soy sauce poisoning and ur bullying??

*angry loopy emoticon*

i’ll haunt u

as soy sauce ghost

boo

You laughed, maybe a bit too loud in the dark, shoulders weren’t tenseed anymore. Somehow, her dumb messages were the only thing that kept you from overthinking everything. No… i couldn’t leave life in Seoul behind, especially if it involved this cute little soy sauce ghost.

The next morning, you told your parents about your decision to stay in Seoul. 

“Uhm… I’m staying. I’ll apply to the same academic highschool here. I think I can balance training and studying here.”

They didn’t say much - just exchanged glances with each other. Your dad then rubbed your head and said:

“Alright. Give it your best, son. Work hard and don’t regret it.”

Just before you leave for school, mom pulled you in for a quick hug. “Thanks for staying with us, baby.” You smiled, too.

-

It was a late afternoon after school, the two of you sitting next to each other outside the convenience store, the same one where you first showed her around the neighborhood. Banana milk in her hands, snacks opened on yours. It was breezy, the sun had started dipping, casting that soft golden glow on her hair. Still beautiful, just like that day I showed you around.

“Joonhyuk-ah? Do you think we’ll get in?” She suddenly asked, “Highschool, I mean.”

You looked at the sky. “Yeah. Should be fine. I’m applying to Seoul Jungang.”

“Me too.” She smiled softly. “Our grades are great, we should get in easily. I think I’ll focus on art there.”

You hesitated - the Suwon thing, you hadn’t told her yet. Is this the right time?

“I got an offer from Suwon. For taekwondo.”

Her head snapped towards you. “What?”

“Uhm… sports highschool. They wanted me to move there. Full training, scholarship, too.”

She didn’t move, but the banana milk almost fell out of her hand. 

“You didn’t say anything to me…”

“Sorry… Didn’t think I needed to. I said no to them.” You didn’t dare to look her in the eyes.

“Why?”

“I just didn’t want to leave Seoul.” now turning to look at her, you said quickly. “It didn’t feel right, I guess.”

Something in her eyes shifted, you could feel it. Anger? Disappointment? Sadness? You didn’t know. But it sure was scary to you.

“Do you know how big of an opportunity that is, Seo Joonhyuk?” Yeah, you’re in trouble. Full name now. “You’ve trained your whole life for this.”

“For fuck’s sake, you’re not my mom.” Fuck… It came out of your mouth faster than you could think. “I know what I did and what I trained for.” Asa knew you swore, just not around her - only with your other friend groups. Never around her. Never at her. Not like this.

Her lips parted, then closed again. She was clearly hurt by what you just said. Her brows now pulled together, like she was trying to hold herself back. “So you’re staying here. For what, you dummy?” she asked, voice soft, stunned. “Because of me?”

You stayed silent.

“Joonhyuk-ah” she said again, voice now low. “Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m not the reason you said no.”

“There were a lot of things that affected my decision, okay?”

“So you didn’t deny it either.” You let out a breath, just realizing how big of a mistake it is for telling her about your big decision like this. 

“Why does it matter? I’m happy with the decision, Asa-ah.”

She calmly set the banana milk on the table before taking a deep breath, adding to the tension between you two. 

“Because I don’t want to be the one to hold you back.” 

“What? You’re not…” you frowned.

“What if I am, huh? Then what?” her voice wasn’t loud, but it was sharp. It wasn’t like the other times when she was mad at you. This was real. 

“What if later, when everything’s harder, you blame me for staying? What if you regret staying?”

You looked at her - something about the look in her eyes made your chest tighten.

“I promise. I won’t ever blame you.” you said. “You know what I think about you, Asa…”

The silence became too long, too heavy.

Asa stood up first, brushing off her skirt. “Let’s just go home.” she mumbled. You nodded, following. But this time, she didn’t wait for you.

Watching her walk ahead did something to your heart. Every part of your body told you to fix things before it was too late. So you did. You ran up and reached out - not thinking, grabbing her hand. She stopped.

Asa’s hand was small. Tense. Warm. This was your first time holding her hand. You’d never held it before. Not like this.

“Please don’t be mad at me.” you said, voice rough but filled with guilt. “I’m sorry. For earlier. I got mad and swore at you… I didn’t mean it like that.’”

She turned around, not quite looking at you yet - but her fingers didn’t move.

“I… uh, I’ve never talked to you like that before. I don’t want to. Please don’t be mad at me.” No response. You held her hand a bit tighter, afraid that she would pull away.

“I panicked… I didn’t want you to think that you were the reason I refused the offer. You’re not…” You swallowed. “I mean, you mean something to me. I wanted to stay. Because Seoul matters. You matter.”

Asa just stood there, her face still ridden with hurt. Then, without looking at you, she turned around and just said:

“I’m tired. Let’s just go home.”

You really messed up. Big time. But as you slowly let go of her hand - she didn’t, for some reason. She held your hand, just for a bit longer, not squeezing, not pulling away either. 

-

The walk home was filled with tension, no words were said. Something between you two changed - something cracked. Even though you two were walking side by side again, it didn’t feel good, not like before. It was you and Asa’s first real fight - it exposed something unsaid between you two, while also hinting at how much harder things might get in the future.

The next morning, Asa acted like nothing ever happened.

You were waiting outside, like always - same routine, same backpack slung over one shoulder. Unsure if she’d even show up. Surprisingly, she did.

“Morning, dummy. Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Uh… nothing. Morning.”

She didn’t bring up the fight. Not the Suwon offer, not the apology, not you two’s first hand holding or the awkward silent walk home or the silence last night. It felt like she’d folded it all up and hid somewhere you couldn’t reach. 

“Did you sleep standing up last night?’ she grinned. “You look like a kicked puppy.”

“Huh?”

She slipped out her earbuds, popped it into her ear and tiptoed to reach yours, placing the other one in for you. Then, before getting fully down, her hands touched your cheeks… What?

Baam. Asa playfully slapped you, grinning. “Music, dummy. What’s wrong with you today? Wanna walk in silence like we’re strangers?”

You shook your head and started walking together. You two talked during the walk to school too. Her complaining about the school schedule, joking about how she was going to fake her height to look taller in the yearbook. Did she erase the whole thing overnight - that easy?

“Yah, Kim Asa. Wanna eat something together tonight? After the hakwon? I’ll pay. Government funding.” you asked, half joking, half trying to see if she really forgave, enough to eat together.

Her eyes lit up. “Ooh, you still remember that thing, huh? Okay, only if you’re paying.”

There she was, your Asa was back, with that smile of hers, that playful tone. You were relieved, but kept sneaking glances, somehow this whole thing wasn’t really convincing just yet. No matter how normal she acted - something told you the fight from last night was still there. 

-

Time went by. Ever since that day outside the convenience store - since the fight, the apology - you couldn’t help but feel like something between the two of you had shifted. Not broken. Just bent. But Asa kept acting like nothing happened.

But you both got in. Results came out in January. That morning, you were still in bed, wearing nothing but shorts, hand trembling a bit as you clicked through the  website.

Accepted: Seoul Jungang High School

You stared at it for a moment, heart pounding. You didn’t even begin to type yet.

[김아사🌸]

im in. you?

You smiled, thumbs moving.

[준혁선베🥋]

ur stuck with me for the new few years btw

[김아사🌸]

ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

told you we’d get in

[준혁선베🥋]

get ready

let’s get something to eat, my treat

[김아사🌸]

okayyyyy

10 minutes

At least, it felt peaceful. Even for now. You walked there together. Same old street. But the mood was suddenly lighter. You held the door open for her. She didn’t say thanks - just bumped your arms but hers and walked in.

Like usual, you were the one who grabbed the basket, trailing behind her as you both moved through the familiar aisles. Asa kept tossing things in. You, on the other hand, were spacing out. Eyes on her, but your mind was gone. The memories of that day came flooding back in. “What if I’m the one holding you back?”

You didn’t realize you’d spaced out until she hit your arm with a bag of chips. “Yah, Seo Joonhyuk. Are you okay? That head of yours still broken or what?”

“Just… thinking.” you mumbled.

“Chocolate or latte?”

“Chocolate. Always?”

“Hah, you still have the taste buds of a 6 year old.” Asa said, laughing before tossing a bottle of chocolate milk into the basket.

Walking outside after everything was done, the cold air hit sharp again. You found the usual bench, side by side, food in hands, just chewing, sipping, watching people go about their days. For a while, neither of you said anything. 

Suddenly, Asa leaned against you - not too heavy, just enough that her head was rested on your shoulder.

“Hey” she said quietly. “Don’t overthink about that day.”

Your chest tightened. Before you could respond, she added:

“I already forgave you. Now I want my dummy back.”

It hit you harder than you thought it would. You didn’t know how long you’d been holding your breath until you finally let out:

“...Thanks. I’m sorry… I really didn’t mean it. What I said that day…”

For a second, you felt her shifted slightly by your side. She didn’t say anything yet - lips still sipping her banana milk. Then she reached up, her hands ruffled your hair gently.

“Yeah, you sounded like a jerk that day.”

You winced. “I know.”

“But…” her hands now moved down to the corner of your lips, finger moving it up, “Still, you’re the only jerk I treasure. So you don’t get to disappear just because you mess up.”

Your eyes now really met her - and there it was. That smile, real, lovely, only for you.

“Next time,” she said. “Please don’t treat me like I’m someone who you have to hide things from.”

You smiled. “Okay.”

Then she held up her bottle of banana milk, shaking to signal you to hold up your chocolate milk.

“To getting into high school.” she said.

“And being forgiven by Kim Asa.”you added. The two bottles clinking against each other.

She grinned. It all felt better now. Thanks to her.

-

The first year of high school went by faster than you thought. That orientation day came with stiff collars, new sneakers, also way too many unfamiliar faces crammed into one school. You and Asa arrived together, like always - shoulder to shoulder, backpacks bumping as you walked side by side through the gates of Seoul Jungang High school for the first time. You’d seen her in that new uniform in the morning, sure - it hit even harder under the school sunlight. The blazer fit her so well, skirt pressed, hair pinned back for once. Asa looked good, way too good.

“Why are you staring at me, you dummy?” she muttered, eyes avoiding yours as blushes began to form on her cheeks. “Nothing.. you look mature.” you replied.

“Well, you’re not too bad yourself.” she snorted, but there was a flicker of something in her smile. 

The two of you joined the crowd of first years crowding around the bulletin board, chaos by the way. Asa leaned in closer, scanning the list, maybe for the both of you.

“Class 1-4.” she read aloud. “Enami Asa… And, Seo Joonhyuk?”

Yessss, as you quietly celebrated in your head.

She turned to you slowly, eyes wide.

“No way.”, you both said at the same time. 

She bursted out laughing, the laugh that always triggered something in your heart. “I guess I really am stuck with you.”

You grinned. Well, I’m glad that’s the case.

“Excuse me, I do my fair share helping you back in middle school too, young lady.” you shot back.

She put her hands up, surrendering. “Okay, okay, we’re even.”

Still, she didn’t stop smiling. Neither did you.

Class 1-4 was on the third floor. You walked together, slowly, with Asa half-dragging her feet, already complaining about the stairs.

��I miss middle school. Everything was closer.”

“Tired already?” you asked.

She huffed, dramatically. “I need a personal elevator.” I could carry you on my back to class everyday, if you want.

When you two got to class, it was filled up already. Students hovered near the windows, some already claiming seats with their bags tossed onto chairs, while you two just stood there awkwardly. Everything was loud, new, and unfamiliar. Then the homeroom teacher walked in, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright, everybody. Quiet, please.” she said. “You can pick your seat for now. We’ll assign them officially next week.” 

As soon as the teacher finished speaking, the room burst into motion. Bags shuffled. Screaming. Some kids rushed for the back like it was Black Friday, some weirdly calmly walked to the front. Then, Asa turned to you with that grin, “C’mon” she said -  reaching down and grabbing your hand. Just like that, no warning. Just enough to pull you along, like she did that a thousand times already.

She led you toward the second to last row by the windows - prime real estate, probably best seats ever - before throwing her backpack on the left seat and sliding into it. You followed, sitting next to her, still feeling the trace of her fingers on yours. 

A few glanced your way. Probably assuming, gossips forming in their minds. You notice it. So did Asa. But she didn’t care, already digging through her cute pencil case like it didn’t matter.

“You’re lucky, you know that?” she said, casually. “I could’ve picked anyone. But I chose you.”

“Really?” you played along “Why didn’t you?”

She didn’t look at you this time, lips smiling at her notebook.

“Your high school years would be miserable without me.” Yeah, she was right.

The class was slowly settling as some students found their seats. A few of them looked like they were ready to square up, fighting for the last good seats. You and Asa sat there - like it was already decided, like it was fate. A few minutes later, the homeroom teacher walked around, clipboard in her hands to check names and make notes. She stopped by your row, glancing at Asa, then you.

“Hmm, are you two close?” her eyes flickered, noticing how relaxed you guys looked next to each other.

You opened your mouth, but Asa beat you to it.

“We’re next door neighbors, Ms. Since middle school.” she said.

The teacher blinked, then smiled - just a quiet kind of understanding.

“Seo Joonhyuk… Hmm, you’re that special taekwondo kid the principal was talking about, right?”

The whole class turned to look at you. Your ears were already burning. 

“Uhm,.. I wanted to stay in Seoul.” you mumbled, still shy.

The teacher’s gaze stayed on you for a bit - curious, maybe amused - then she smiled. 

“Well, our school’s never had an athletic talent like you before, so... welcome, you two can sit next to each other.” she walked away - leaving behind a few whispers, glances and Asa was looking out the window like none of it fazed her. But her smile, it made your whole weekend.

Academically, the two of you kept pace - late night studying, in her room or yours, passing notes under the desk, sometimes competing to see who’d score higher - you’d purposely lose to her sometimes, just to see her smiling. That quiet competitiveness, it made you both better. The two of you worked well together, always had. You two weren’t loud, weren’t flashy. But somehow, it was easy to tell that the two of you… just clicked. The teachers noticed too.

Your math teacher always said that you two were like an old married couple. Ms. Taeha always smiled a little whenever she passed by your desks, watching you check Asa’s notes while she doodled hearts on them. 

“Cute couple, aren’t they?” she told the class once. You both pretended not to hear it. Maybe, the teachers were rooting for you and Asa, too.

You started making headlines, too. As you swept through national taekwondo competitions - gold after gold, your school was mentioned in articles, for the first time ever in that context. A taekwondo prodigy, coming out of an academic school? Never before. Interviews of you surfaced on social media, clips of you dominating matches on national TV. Of course people noticed. Especially the girls. They whispered in the schoolyard, eyes on your back in the hallway. Some even showed up to practices, holding banners with your name.

And Asa? She didn’t say much. But you noticed how her eyes shifted, gripping the water bottle tighter whenever someone called your name too sweetly. She wasn’t invisible either. She joined the dance club, and stood out, as expected. Her movements cleaned, graceful, confident - people had to stop and stare. Performances were posted online, soon enough, comments started showing up, too?

“Who’s that girl in the front row?”

“Isn’t she the Japanese girl from 1-4?”

“Enami Asa… She’s gorgeous.” 

It didn’t take long before the sunbaes noticed her - those dicks. The kind who lingered after rehearsals with extra water bottles or excuses to “help” the club. Some waited by the gates afterschool. However, the moment they spotted you - whether walking beside or rambling about something dumb behind her - they scattered. A glance was enough. Sometimes, just a nod. You didn’t need to say a word, didn’t need to.

Asa didn’t say a thing, or asked you to do it. But she never told you to stop either.

Most mornings, you two met outside like always. But now, there was always something in your arm - food, milk, her favorite snacks. You never made a big deal out of it. Just casually hand it over to her. Asa would take it with that same grin, then start unwrapping it before you hit the main street.

Eventually, your classmates started noticing. They noticed the way you pulled out her favorite banana milk and slipped it under her side of the desk before homeroom. The way she always saved half her snacks and nudged it over to you. Neither of you made a show of it, but you both expected it - like muscle memory. At first, there were whispers - then just nods, smirks, acceptance. By that time, everyone had figured it out - even if you two refused to admit it.

But… things weren’t exactly all smooth through high school. You two fought more often than you ever did in middle school - louder, sharper, sometimes over things that didn’t even make sense when the anger wore off. Maybe it was the pressure. Maybe you two were growing, but still super childish. Or you two cared for each other, just didn’t know how to express it.

-

Like when you forgot to print out a sheet for math class.

“You said you’d do it last night.” Asa snapped, arms crossed as you fumbled through your backpack.

“Uhm… I forgot. Sorry…”

“I reminded you. Twice.”

“Well, I already said I’m sorry, Asa-ah. What do you want me to do now? Pull it out of my magic pocket like Doraemon?”

She scoffed, turning away before muttering loud enough to make sure you heard her. “Should’ve done it myself.”

You bit your tongue, then fired back. “Yeah? Maybe you should’ve. Since this idiot can’t do anything right.”

The silence after was brutal. You sat next to each other but didn’t even exchange a single word. Even when she slid her sheet halfway across the desk for you to copy - you didn’t even peek, your pride was hurt. After that, no more glances at each other. Your eraser dropped on her side and she didn’t pick it up. Her pen ran out of ink and you didn’t offer yours. It was petty, neither of you wanted to lose first.

Later that day, on the way home from hakwon, you slipped her favorite pastry into her blazer - that potato thingy she swore she hated but devoured in just two bites. At the crosswalk, she finally spoke up:

“You’re childish.” “We’re childish.” you corrected her.

Asa crinkle the wrapping in her hand, having her first bite. “It was a bit dry…” You smiled. “Told you it’s not even that good.”

She glared at you, chewing slowly, then muttered. “Still better than no apology.”

You looked ahead, hiding your grin. “That’s the apology, dummy.”

The crosswalk light turned green, and you both stepped forward. You were good again. 

-

Like when you accidentally ate her last Chocopie during lunch.

“You seriously just ate my last one, you pig?”

“I didn’t know it was your last? I’m sorry.”

“Since when does ‘I’m saving it for later’ mean ‘Eat it now, traitor’?”

The rest of lunch was silent. The next day, you bought her two Chocopies, sliding them under her side of the desk. She ate it without looking at you. Victory for you.

-

Like when she tried something different with her hair, curled the ends a little, styling them, even wore one of those cute clips Chisa gave her. She showed up at the lamppost between yours and her house, waiting for you to say something. Your dumbass definitely didn’t notice anything, instead just yapping about how Spider-Man would be useless in Asia since there aren’t that many tall buildings.

Not when she tucked her hair behind her ear.

Not when she asked how cold the weather was while subtly tossing her head just enough to show her curls.

You just nodded and kept explaining your theory, Spider-Man would also really struggle in rural areas. By the time you two reached school, she ran out of patience. Feeling the tension, you leaned back to Yunah, who was sitting behind you and asked, quietly:

“Is it just me, or… is she a bit angry today?”

Yunah blinked at you like you were the densest creature alive.

“Look at her hair, idiot. Boys like you are hopeless.”

You squinted over your shoulder, then turned back to Asa, who was sitting next to you, arm crossed, lips pressed, clearly not in the mood. Oh… her hair. Those curls, the way she styled it, the lavender clip - the one you knew Chisa bought her during their sister outing, 

Right, she did all that hoping you’d noticed. But no, Spider-man was swinging around in your mind.

“Uhm… nice hair, Asa-ah. Those curls look great.”

She didn’t even look your way. “Wow. Look at Detective Conan over here.”

You winced. “Is that the hair clip Chisa-noona bought you?”

She clicked her pen. “Oh so now you remember my sister, too.”

You signed, sinking slowly in your chair. Yunah was right, you were hopeless.

That day, on the way home from hakwon - the air was crisp, your backpack heavy with regret, she finally spoke, arms swinging by her sides.

“You’re lucky Yunah helped you this morning.”

You glanced at her. “Am I… forgiven?”

“No.” She looked up at you, smirking. “But I might forgive you tomorrow.” 

Fair enough, princess.

-

Sometimes around mid 2022, the offers came to you, quietly - just messages, emails from the national taekwondo association - asking if you could attend weekend practice at the national training center. Your coach told you later: “They told me they’re watching you. They said you’re the best and youngest they’ve ever seen at this level. They want to put you through the grind - see how you handle it. If all goes well, they might call you up for upcoming Asian games, Olympics even.”

Asian Games? Olympics? Me? Really? For real?

It all happened so fast. You didn’t tell Asa yet. Not because you didn’t remember the Suwon rejection incident - but because it didn't feel real yet. So instead, you opted for something else, light and throwaway someday on the way home:

“Coach wanted to put more focus on training for the rest of the year. Like… weekend stuff.”

Asa blinked, lips still sipping that banana milk.

“More now? Aren’t your schedules, like packed now? School? Training? More training?”

You shrugged, not looking at her for too long. “He said he wanted to see I how do. Testing the water.”

She didn’t press, but something about her eyes made you feel like she could already tell you weren’t telling her the truth. 

-

Months went by, training got hectic. You barely had time to breathe between school, hakwon and new national drills. You were exhausted - but didn’t want to complain. You didn’t want Asa to worry. But that meant you forgot. Her big rehearsal. She told you about it almost everyday that week. You promised her you’d come. You didn’t.

By the time you remembered, you were soaked in sweat. Hurrying to check your phone, 3 unread messages. Fuck…

[김아사🌸]

hey

it’s okay if you couldn’t make it

just wish you told me earlier

No… You messed up.

You ran with all your remaining stamina after training. When you got there, everybody was packing up and ready to leave. Asa was there, eyes tired, talking to her friends - when she finally spotted you. You didn’t dare to go inside, instead waiting for her outside.

Asa walked out, 10 minutes later, still in her rehearsal outfit - hair tied up messily. The moment your eyes met, she knew.

“You’re late…” she said, cold.

You stood there, forgetting how to breathe. “I’m sorry. I really am. Training was crazy…”

She nodded slowly, lips pressed. “You could’ve told me earlier.”

“I know. I should’ve, I’m sorry.”

Asa shifted her weight, gripping the straps of her bag tighter. “You promised, Joonhyuk-ah. Either show up or don’t promise.”

“I’m busy. It wasn’t intentional. You think I want to let you down?” you defended yourself.

Her eyes were sharp - not teary, not soft. Angry. Tired. Hurt. All at once. 

“You. Already. Did.” she said, firmer this time. Then stepped closer, looking up straight at you in the eyes and jabbed her finger into your chest. 

“You keep saying you care. But when it actually matters, you forget. Do you know how embarrassing it was, waiting there while everyone else’s friends showed up?” Poke.

You flinched at her words - ready to fire back before she poke you again.

“You don’t get to apologise and hope I forget it like it was nothing big, Joonhyuk-ah.” Poke.

“I AM BUSY! You think I just, what - relaxed all weekend?”

“So you’re saying all this doesn’t matter? I don’t get tired too?” she snapped, stepping even closer now. “You’re not the only one with pressure on your shoulders.”

“That’s not what i said-”

“But that’s what it feels like!” she snapped again, chest raising, finger still pressed against your chest. “Like you’re carrying everything alone, and I’m just some side character you forget to tell things to.” You swallowed, head down.

“... I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” voice low.

Asa said, eyes still burning. “Guess what? You just did it again, Seo Joonhyuk.”

Her friends could feel the tension, choosing to walk away. And with that - she walked home alone, not waiting for you, not looking back. Your shoulders dropped as you watched her walking away, too fed up with you. Your hands were now trembling - not from training. But from the words she said and the way she looked at you like she didn’t recognize you for a second. 

-

That night, you skipped dinner. The call came at about 7PM - your coach was on the other end: “They want you on the roster. For the upcoming Asian Games. They were afraid you were still young at first, but with it being postponed until 2023, you will have enough time. You’ll be training more with the seniors at the weekend. It’s real this time, Joonhyuk-ah. Hangzhou, China.” 

You should’ve felt proud, ecstatic. Instead, your mind went to Asa. Like muscle memory, you grabbed your hoodie and stepped outside. The light on her house gates was still bright. You hesitated for a moment before ringing the bell. The gates opened to Ms. Keiko, wearing her apron, maybe mid-dinner prep. She blinked at you, surprised.

“Oh, Joonhyuk-ah.”

You bowed politely, then asked in a low, nervous voice. “Can I… Can I talk to Asa? I have something to tell her.”

Her eyes scanning your face for a second - something in your expression must’ve softened her.

“Asa-chan is in her room. Go on.” She smiled.

You nodded, slipping off your slippers before walking upstairs - familiar stairs, but they suddenly felt heavier than usual. Then, you stood at her door for a moment - gently knocking twice.

“Asa-ah, it’s me.” no answer.

“Can you open the door?” you knocked again.

You took a risk, opening the door anyway. As you pushed open the door, a familiar soft hum floated out - StayC’s ‘Stereotype’ - it had been trending on TikTok these days. Asa was sprawled out on her bed, earbuds in, legs kicking in the air, scrolling on her iPad. Her hair was in a messy bun, bangs slightly messy. She didn’t notice you at first - not before looking up, and screamed:

“AAHHH! What the -???”

She yanked one earbud out, almost dropping the iPad on her face.

“What are you doing in my room?! You can’t just barge in like- What if I was changing, you pervert?!”

You were surprised, too. Holding your hands up in the air, stepping back a bit. “I did knock. Twice!!”

“I thought it was Chisa or Lisa!!”

“I called your name!”

“That doesn’t me you can just - ugh! You pervert!!” Asa grabbed one of her plushies and threw it right at you. You didn’t even dodge, letting it hit you in the face before falling on the floor.

She was still glaring, cheeks flushed pink, breathing a little heavy. “You’re unbelievable, you jerk.”

You took a deep breath and quietly stepped inside, not forgetting to gently close the door behind you. The soft click of the door made Asa raise an eyebrow, still perched on her bed in a defensive position, arms holding her pillows like it was her shield.

“Uhm.. Just listen to me, okay?” you said “I have to explain.” Asa didn’t respond right away, but she didn’t tell you to leave either. Her head tilted slightly, watching you carefully - irritation was clearly still on her face, but curiosity quickly took over. You exhaled before speaking up;

“I didn’t want to tell you because I wasn’t sure it would happen. They said they were watching me, those weekend training sessions. If I told you and it didn’t go anywhere, it would’ve been just another broken promise and disappointment.”

You paused, looking at her.

“I just got the call. They picked me. I’m going to be on the roster for the Asian Games next year.”

Asa’s mouth opened, then closed again.

“I know I screwed up a lot recently. I’m not denying it. It’s just… I’m tired and distracted… I don’t want this to come between us, Asa-ah. I know I didn’t handle things right, but I care. I never wanted to shut you out. I…”

You sat down awkwardly on the floor in front of her. Trying to think of the right words to say:

“So… Tomorrow night. Let’s ditch hakwon, go somewhere. Just you and me. No excuses this time. I’ll tell you everything you want. Just give me one chance.”

Asa’s expression didn’t shift at first - but her grips on the pillow loosened. Eyes softened a bit before saying:

“You didn’t think I’d be proud of you, you big dummy? How long have we been friends for?”

You let out a light breath.

“You could’ve just told me, you know. I would have understood.” she added, quietly.

You looked down, hands scratching the back of your neck, shame in your voice. “I was scared…”

Asa sat up straighter, letting out a slow breath. “I’m still mad tho.” she said plainly.

“Fair. I understand.” you replied.

“But… I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“That’s good enough for me.” you smiled.

As you stood up, brushing your palms nervously against your thighs, glancing at her.

“Uh, before I go,” you said “Can you… stand up?”

Asa narrowed her eyes a bit, “Why?”

“Just… please.”

She let out a skeptical sigh but slowly stood up anyways, stepping down from the bed, still clutching her pillows. Before she could say anything, you stepped forward and wrapped your hands around her. It wasn’t tight, more of a quiet, unsure hug. Like you were afraid Asa would push you away.

She stiffened slightly at first, caught off guard. But she didn’t move, standing still, breathing against your chest, her pillow now squished between you two.

“I’m sorry.” you murmured, “I really am.”

You hugged her for a little longer, before pulling back slowly, just enough to look at her face. Her eyes had now softened, brows were still furrowed. 

“You smelled like tiger balm.” she said softly.

You let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, not a bad smell tho.”

She didn’t smile - yet, but she didn’t pull away either.

“We’ll talk tomorrow.” she finally said, poking your shoulders lightly. “Go home, dummy. Before I tell my mom you were perving on me.”

You froze at the door, turning back with a look of betrayal.

“I knocked. Like, TWICE!”

She raised her eyebrows, completely unfazed. “And still came in without my permission. That’s suspicious behavior, dummy.”

You groaned. “Right… Sorry. Good night, Asa.”

When you finally got out, from behind the door, her voice followed: “Congrats, Joonhyuk-ah.”

The next day came quickly. Neither of you said much during class. Your arms close enough to brush, though they didn’t. Asa spent most of the period tapping her pen mindlessly, probably daydreaming about something. You slipped her a note - a terrible drawing of the hakwon building exploding, dramatic smoke, stick figures running. She looked down, raised one of her eyebrows - clearly unimpressed, then scribbled underneath: “Lame.”

You smirked and nudged her knee under the desk. She didn’t move away. The day dragged on for so long, but when the bell rang, you moved first. Zipping up your bag, you stood up casually and leaned down to whisper, “Let’s go.”

Asa then glanced at you - then nodded. No teasing, just trust. Down the staircase. Past the side gate. But not heading home this time, instead, you two walked to the bus stop near school. 

At the bus stop, you checked the schedule screen and pointed.

“Should be two stops. Then we walk a bit.”

Asa gave you a sidelong glance, a bit skeptical. “Where are you taking me?”

“Probably taking you somewhere outside of Seoul, then dump you there.”

She didn’t press, lips now pouting before adjusting her backpack and folding her arms. 

“This better be worth it. My mom would kill me if she found out about this.”

You laughed. “You’re with me, remember?”

The bus came. You both climbed in. Sitting next to each other, like you always did since you two first met. The bus rocked gently as it made it through the late afternoon Seoul traffic - that classic bustling city traffic, stop and go every few meters. Outside, the peaceful vibe of Eungam-dong slowly disappeared, now replaced with dense clusters of tall buildings, packed intersections, and neon lights flickering before sunset. Delivery scooters weavering between cars, people rushing home like it was a sport, LED lights glowing above massive skin care stores and cafes. Everything felt like Seoul, felt like home. Inside the bus, it was calmer. Just the soft hum of the engine, the low voice of people chatting. You snuck a glance at Asa, whose face was lit up by the city lights. One earbud, arms loosely folded, but her fingers were lightly tapping on her legs.

“...You should paint your nails again.”

She turned her head slightly, confused. “What?”

“Your nails, dummy.” you said “I was just thinking. It suits you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What are you even talking about right now?”

“Let me see your hand.”

She held out her hand, still confused but obliging. “They’re literally just nails. Plus it would get me in trouble at school.”

You took her hand in yours, pretending to inspect it - brushing your fingers against her fingertips.

“See? You’d look cool with black polish or something. Or like… purple. No, pink.”

She giggled. “What are you on right now, Joonhyuk-ah?”

But she didn’t take her hand back. So you got braver, risking it.

You slipped your fingers between hers - slow, easy, no big deal. But it was. You kept your eyes on your joined hands - waiting for something. She didn’t do anything, just surprised. Then, her fingers adjusted, tightened, slightly. You looked up.

“I’m still mad at you…” she muttered, eyes looking at you before turning back to the window, face unreadable.

Then, you shifted closer and without thinking, gently pulled her hands into your lap. Smooth criminal. Still casual, but careful - like it had always belonged there. Your thumb brushed softly along the outside of her hand, slow, back and forth, tracing her knuckles. Still no reaction. So you held it tighter - trying to keep it warm from the AC. Not possessive - just warm, reassuring. 

-

The bus stopped at a stop near the Ewha area. The bus door hissed open. You stood first, giving your still jointed hands a tug, signaling her to follow. 

As you two stepped down, the noise hit all at once. Car honking, couples’ chatter… It was an area built for slow dates - bright stores decorated with cozy color palettes, cute dessert cafes, streets full of flower shops, music spilling out of every corner… You name it, they had it all. Everything here smelled like sugar, perfume - like love. Brighter. Alive. Especially at night.

Asa adjusted her backpack, looking around. You glanced down, looking at her hand in yours. Still there, still warm. You gave it a light squeeze.

“Let’s do what you want today, everything.” you said, gently,

“What?” she blinked.

“Anything.” you repeated. “You pick. I’ll follow. Anything you want. I pay.”

She looked at you for a moment - still trying to decide if the idiot in front of her was being serious.

“Really? It’s not cheap here, Joonhyuk-ah.”

“I got money from all those taekwondo competitions, a lot. My parents are serious about saving up - I won’t go broke.”

“Promise me you’re not going to complain halfway through?”

“Nope.” 

“Not even if I drag you into those stationary shops for two hours?”

“I’ll even hold your basket.” you said “Then judge your choices.” Asa cracked a smile. Small, but real. “...Okay then.”

-

Asa looked around, lips pressing like she was pretending to think really hard. 

“First stop, I want to look at pens.” she said.

“Lead the way. But only pens?”

“Yup, overpriced ones. Gel pens. Multicolored. Glitter.” she replied, testing you.

“Like I said, all on me.” you smiled.

She shot you a look, suspicious. “You’re weirdly agreeable today.”

And with that, she turned on her heels and led you straight into one of the nearby stationery stores, the bell ringing above as you rushed to open the door for her.

The place was like heaven to Asa - shelves organized by color, pens stretching for what felt like a mile, ailes of stickers, memo pads shaped like milk cartons… It smelled faintly of paper, sweet plastic, flowers… but in a really good way. Cozy. Cute. Just like Asa. First thing you did, grabbing a basket and followed her without hesitation. 

Asa immediately beelined for them pens, testing them like a military instructor evaluating weapons.

“This one is smooth,”she said.

“That one is cool,” you replied.

She dropped it into the basket anyway. “Glad to hear your opinion. But… mine matters more.”

You kept close as she moved from pens to notebooks, flipping through one with a chubby cat on the cover. She didn’t say anything, just ran her finger along the edge before quietly adding them to the basket.

You, just happy being there with her. Your eyes wandered a bit before stopping at a rack full of pencil pouches. Hey, a dinosaur with stubby arms, its face looked exactly like her when she sulked. Huh, cute. You slipped it into the basket. When she returned, she noticed it immediately and just rolled her eyes at you.

“You think this looks like me?” 

“...No.”

About 30 minutes later, you two arrived at the register. When the cashier handed the bag, you reached for it before Asa could reach for it.

“I’ll do it all today. Don’t worry about it.”

She didn’t say anything - just let her hand fall back to her side.

As you two stepped out into the street again, you glanced her way. “Still mad?”

“Still deciding…”

-

Outside, the sky was starting to fade - golden, dreamy, straight out of a K-drama, episode 7, market date vibes. You two walked without any destination in mind. The street was buzzing. Then the smell hit: sweet, savory, a little spicy. 호떡, 떡볶��, 어묵국  steaming from skewers. (Hotteok, tteokbokki, eomuk broth). Asa’s eyes lingered at a stall, and you didn’t hesitate.

“Give me one second.” Then you returned with two skewers and a cup of warm soup.

“...Such a gentleman.”

“I’m not a monster, you know.” you smiled.

You both stood there, under a tree, side by side, quietly chewing as people passed by. 

“That dinosaur pencil pouch better not show up in my room. It looks dumb.” she nudged your arm. 

“Too late.” you grinned.

A few minutes later, you tossed your empty skewer into a bin as you both kept walking. Then, suddenly, you stopped. Asa turned:

“What?”

You were staring at a giant ad plastered on the side of a  building - Ryujin from ITZY, short hair, sharp gaze. Asa followed your gaze, then frowned. “Why are you staring at her?”

You tilted your head. “Not really.”

She looked at you, confused.

“I was just thinking… you’d look amazing with short hair.” 

Asa blinked. “Me?”

You nodded, still thinking. “Yeah, like… you know, shoulder length. Or, what do they call it? Bob? Like short but also curly? Or wavy? I don’t know but… yeah, short hair would look great on you.”

She scoffed at you. “You’re just saying that because she’s an idol.”

“No,” you said, now looking at her. “I’m saying that because I think you can pull it off. Then again, you can pull any vibe off - cute, cool. Whatever you want.”

She opened her mouth a bit, before closing it again. Then she looked away - pretending to look at the shop across the street.

“Well… I’m not cutting my hair.”

You smiled. “Didn’t say you have to, just complimenting.”

She crossed her arms, ears now slightly red.

“You’re still annoying.” she muttered. And you love it.

Not long after, you passed a neon-lit building with a blinking sign, a coin noraebang. Asa glanced up.

“Wanna try?”

“Today’s your day.”

“Don’t get weird about it.”

Inside was cramped, but clean. Faded stickers on the mic, soft disco lights overhead. Asa picked first.

BLACKPINK. DDU DU DDU DU.

You raised an eyebrow. Then she rapped - like really rapped. Sharp, confident, nearly perfect, hand gestures, expressions and everything. You sat there, amazed, lowkey forgetting how to breathe. When the song ended, she looked at you and raised an eyebrow.

“You like that?”

“Didn’t know you had that in you.”

“I’d make a good rapper, at YG.” she just smirked and cued up another.

About ten songs later, your throat hurts, stomach ached from laughing, the room was warmer then it should’ve been. On the way out, you spotted one of those claw machines, with a cute medium sized bear in the middle. Asa on the other hand barely glanced at it. You didn’t say anything, just sliding a 500 won in and tried. Failed. Tried again.

“Joonhyuk-ah…” she spoke up,

“Nah, I got it…” you said.

One more try.

Okay, the claw now hooked the teddy bear, one ear flopped over.

C’mon now. Just a bit more…

Yes! It finally fell into the chute. You picked it up, brushing lint off its head and handing it to her without a word. 

“Still deciding, by the way…” she said, but hands still held it tight, in front of her.

The night now felt light, loose, like the kind you didn’t want to end. Asa slowed in front of a tiny Life4cuts, tucked between a convenience store and a run down shop. She looked at it, then you. 

“Wanna do it?”

“You want to?” you shrugged.

“Might as well. You’re already carrying my stuff.” 

Before you could answer, she grabbed your free hand and pulled you in. The curtain dropped behind you. The screen lit up as Asa took her time to choose the frame and her favorite filters. “Heheh, this one is so silly. Get ready -”

3..2..1

First frame: she held up the teddy bear while you blinked, too slowly

Second frame: you both puffed your cheeks, you pointing at hers, her pointing at yours.

Third frame: she leaned her head slightly against your shoulder, much closer than before. Neither of you said anything, but you could feel the heat rush to your ears.

Final one - you hesitated…

Then, as the screen flashed the countdown, you leaned in and kissed her cheek. It was just a quick kiss - soft, barely a second. Then the camera clicked.

Click. Asa froze a beat, lips slightly parted. Hands still holding the bear. You looked forward, pretending nothing happened with burning ears. She didn’t say anything. 

Reaching out to grab the printed photo strips as they slid out. Outside, Asa looked down at the photos on her hands, particularly the last frame - before handing you one and quietly slipping the remaining photo strips into her backpack. Still no words. But her fingers found yours again as you both started walking, other arm still wrapped around that bear.

-

Eungam-dong was quiet, like it usually was at this time of the night. No more traffic, only the soft whirr of scooters passing by, the hum of distant music leaking out from convenient stores, and occasional laughter from a group of students still hanging around. You glanced at the digital clock outside the familiar pharmacy near home, 9:42AM. Well, late but moms shouldn't be suspicious - hakwon sometimes ended even later.

You and Asa weren’t exactly talking. The silence between you two felt like a shared secret - not awkward anymore. She walked beside you, hugging the bear tightly against her chest, fingers clutched around the soft fabric like she didn’t know what to do with her hands. You looked over, the tip of her nose was a little pink from the cold. Without a word, you reached into your blazer pocket and pulled out two hot packs before slapping one gently against her arm.

She blinked. “When did you even buy these?”

“Prepared. Thought ahead.” you shrugged, trying to be nonchalant.

She took it without arguing, the warmth settling into her palm. “You’re weird today.”

“But you love it tho.” you grinned. Then, before she could walk too far ahead, you shifted closer and put your arm around her shoulders. She immediately froze. Just for a second. Then she dipped her head a little lower and stepped into your side - shoulder brushing against your chest. It was too quiet, too warm. Your heart was hammering, But, you were still feeling confident so you reached over and gently squished her cheeks.

Asa turned her face away instantly, but not fast enough. You caught the way her face was glowing red. “Your face is hot.” you teased.

She turned back with wide eyes. “Yours is even redder.”

You smirked, gently pressing your fingers to her other cheeks. “You’re burning right now, Asa-ah.”

“You kissed me first! Today!” she shot back, voice raising a few octave.

“So?”

“So!” she repeated, like that proved something. You tilted your head, watching her. Lips slightly pressed, eyes wide - not mad, just a bit overwhelmed. Still holding that teddy bear you got her like it was protecting her from your sudden burst of confidence. You leaned in closer, close enough to whisper:

“Should we kiss for real this time?”

Then, you weren’t sure who leaned in first. You? Her? Didn’t matter. But the space between you two was shrinking, her eyes flickering at yours and your lips, cheeks still flushed, breath caught somewhere in her throat. Your hands now grazing her shoulder, holding steady.

Here we go. just a few more seconds.

Closer… closer….

And then -

“Asa-chan?”

Well, that sounded familiar. Gentle. Neutral. But somehow it felt like an ice bucket was just dumped on your head. Asa’s mom? Was it her? You both froze and turned around.

Bingo! Standing a few feet away near the streetlamp, were your mothers - your mom with a grocery bag full of greens in her arms, and Ms. Keiko, holding a bag of frozen dumplings and something wrapped in newspaper. What are they doing out this late at night? Both staring, standing still, not yelling.

Asa’s body stiffened beside you. She took a few steps to get away from you, bear pressed to her chest again. You tried to open your mouth, but couldn’t speak up.

“I thought you had hakwon today, Joonie?” your mom asked.

“Or did you both… skip hakwon together?” Ms. Keiko tilted her head, she still had that warmth in her, it was just a bit terrifying this time.

-

Her house’s living room was too bright. Too quiet. You and Asa sat next to each other, looking like two puppies who were about to be yelled at for biting slippers - scared. Your moms sat across from you, arms folded, expressions perfectly neutral - way worse than yelling. 

“So, Asa-ah. You were about to kiss my son in public?” your mom asked, voice calm.

“Mom…’ you groaned.

“You don’t get to talk, mister.” mom said, pretending to be mad. “Is it your idea, Asa, or this dummy’s idea?”

Asa was horrified. “Uhm, Ms… I… We didn’t kiss yet…”

“Yet? So you were about to.” mom said, too quickly. A hint of tease in her voice.

Ms. Keiko added. “I’m trying to understand why you two perfectly good, responsible students - my daughter, my neighbor’s son, would skip hakwon like this. Together.”

Asa looked down, cheeks blazing. “We weren’t planning to… it just…”

Your mom leaned back. “It just…?”

“Can we not talk about this like we just robbed a bank, mom?” you said quietly, scared to look your mom in the eyes.

“No, no, I’m fascinated.” your mom said, “It’s not everyday that I find my son trying to kiss his girlfriend on the street.”

“We’re not dating…” you both said at the same time - too loud, too defensive. Both moms paused.

Ms. Keiko then glanced at her daughter, faking disappointment. “Asa-chan… you skipped hakwon. Almost kissed a boy. That’s almost 2 crimes in one night.”

She squeaked. “We didn’t do anything bad.”

Ms, Keiko then crossed her arms. “Okey. Tell us what you were doing.”

Asa hesitated, you gave her a wide-eyed look like: You tell them. We both die.

“... We went to the Ewha area.” she confessed, head down.

Both moms blinked.

“We got food, walked around, bought stuff…” you added, now surrendering. “Noraebang, then… got a bear.” Right then, you saw Asa hugging the bear tighter on the corner of your eyes.

“Anything else? Hmm, you two.” Ms. Keiko said, trying hard not to smile.

“And we took photos. That’s it.” Asa blurted out. Your eyes now wide, shook - Nooo, why would say that!!!

“Show us then.” your mom demanded. That tone. You knew it. The one she used when you used to hide your literature exam results in middle school - you hated it, never one to be writing stuff.

Asa froze, then slowly reached in her backpack like it was a death sentence. You leaned over, whispering, “You don’t have to…”

“Zip it, you little rascal. I’m not done with you yet.” your mom said.

Asa was already pulling out those tiny, glossy photo strips. She flipped through the first two ones - the safe ones. Then she stopped, stared at the third one. Oh shit.

The one with the last frame being her eyes wide, your lips on her cheek. The room felt like it dropped several degrees. For some reason, she passed them all to your mom. Your mom took them in complete silence, examined each frame then paused on the last one. Ms. Keiko also leaned in to see. It was followed by a beat of silence.

Then your mom cleared her throat. “So… you two…”

“You kissed my daughter in a photobooth?!” 

Your heart dropped. “It was just a cheek kiss, Ms. I…”

Ms. Keiko then raised an eyebrow. “Did you ask first?”

Asa intervened. “It wasn’t even that bad, mom…”

Your mom looked between the two of you, before handing the strips to Ms. Keiko. 

“Hmm, you two did look like me and your dad back then, Asa-chan. When we were young, rebellious, back in Japan.” Ms. Keiko said. “Mommm!” Asa wailed.

“Just saying.”

Your mom exhaled deeply, shaking her head - now smiling. “This idiot of mine. Skips hakwon, runs around Seoul, kisses a girl on the cheek, and even got photo proof.”

She then turned to you, eyes narrowing. “Did you pay for these, Joonie?”

You nodded, sitting up straighter. “Yes, mom. With my taekwondo prize money.”

“Hmm.” your moms both blinked.

“Uh… I wanted to buy them for her. Not just the photos. Everything today.” you said, quieter now.

Then, your mom smiled - for real this time. “Good. I raised you well.”

“So, we’re not in trouble?” you asked, raising your voice at the end, hoping for some miracle.

“Oh, you’re definitely in trouble.” mom said immediately. “Your dad is definitely seeing these photos tomorrow.” Then, she pulled out her phone to capture the evidence, looking way too proud.

Ms. Keiko gave Asa a soft look. “And you, Asa-chan. Next time, tell me. I wouldn’t have stopped you, I just want you to be safe. At least you were with Joonhyuk tonight.”

Asa pouted into the bear. “I’m sorry, mom…” she said in Japanese.

“Also, I’m putting this one on the fridge.” Ms. Keiko said, holding up the one where you kissed her cheek. Both of your faces were now blazing. 

“We’re not done yet. This whole thing smells like there’s more. What are you two hiding?” your mom asked.

Asa looked at you. You looked at Asa. And then, you took a breath.

“...I got called up. The national team. Uh, next year Asian Games.”

The whole room went silent. Dead silent. Your moms blinked. Ms. Keiko sat up a bit. For a few seconds, everything in the room stopped.

“What?” your mom asked, like she wasn’t sure what she heard was real or not.

“I just got the call yesterday,” you said, eyes now dropping to your knees. “They said they wanted me after all those weekend training sessions. It’s official… Uh, I might represent Korea.” Asa stayed quiet by your side, watching everyone else's reaction.

Your mom’s hand slowly reached to cover her mouth. “You’re serious.”

You nodded. Then-

“Seo Joonhyuk!!” She stood abruptly. You flinched, fearing for your life. She pulled in, for a hug. Hard.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” she mumbled into your shoulder. “Do you know how proud I am?” 

“Uh… maybe?” you said, unsure.

“And Asa knew before me?!”she pulled back, mock-offended. “Unbelieved. Betrayed by my own son?!”

“I was going to tell you tonight, mom.” you muttered.

“You’re lucky I love you.” mom said, hands now moved to your shirt collar, shaking you around. “Because if I didn’t, you’d be walking home barefoot right now!”

Ms. Keiko gave you a gentle smile. “That’s great news, Joonhyuk-ah. You should be proud.”

You nodded, shy. “Thanks, Ms.” You then glanced at Asa, she was already looking at you, lips curled into a smile. The moms eventually let you two off with a final round of warnings - still teasing, but proud. Asa walked you to the gate, still hugging the bear, and she whispered, “Next time, tell me sooner.” Life hadn’t felt this exciting in a while. Also, the next day, Lisa and Chisa didn’t let Asa off the hook that easy, teasing her for an entire week.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

2023

It was great. But nothing official changed between you and Asa. Still sat next to each other, still walked home together whenever you could. Still stolen glances and dumb jokes in class. But something shifted - it wasn’t bad, at least not right away, just… a bit different.

After the Asian Games news came out, you became a celebrity at school, not to your liking. Whispers followed you in the hallway. Kids at school asked for photos like it was normal. Girls from other classes, even sunbaes started lingering outside your homeroom. 

Asa noticed, of course she did. She didn’t do anything about it, though. Just kept her head down during lunch, kept waiting for you while you stopped to thank someone for what felt like the hundredth time, kept smiling when people said, “You’re so lucky to sit next to Joonhyuk.”

Also, something also got to you. It was nothing new, started as background noise but slowly became more frequent. A comment here, whisper there.

“You two would make a good couple.”

“Seriously, just date already.”

“They’ve got it all - good-looking, talented, and basically act like a couple.”

At first, you brushed it off, like you always did. Dumbass. People said it even back then, right? But the more you heard it, the harder it became to ignore. Neither of you had confessed. No labels. No promises. You guys were close, too close - but technically still “friends”. 

One day, you weren’t expecting anyone. One of those rare weekends without training, thankfully. You’d just finished showering and were halfway drying your hair with a towel when the bell rang. You padded to the front door and opened it. It was Asa. Wearing her usual black shirt. Holding a small paper bag, maybe from Auntie Bomi’s snack stall. And-

Her hair. Gone. Not gone gone. But… short. Chin-length, neat and clean with soft layers that emphasized her features in a way that you’d never seen before. You just stared.

“...What?” she asked. “See something you like, dummy?”

You blinked. “You cut your hair…”

She raised her eyebrows. “Duh, obviously. Say something else.”

“...You look amazing.” you said, honestly.

Even though Asa tried to roll her eyes, you caught her lips curling into a smile. “Of course, I do. I look good in everything, you said I’d look good with short hair, remember?”

You did. That day at Ewha. Staring at a huge poster of Ryujin. Hey, she really remembered.

“Yeah, you really do…” you added, quietly. “Like, a lot.”

She looked down for a second, then held up the paper bag. “Aren’t you gonna invite me in? I got your favourite right here.”

You stepped aside, Asa just walked in like she always had. She was toeing off her shoes in the entryway when your mom came around the corner with a basket of folded laundry in arms.

“Oh my - is that Asa?”  she said with her eyes wide opened, surprised. “Oh my, look at your hair, darling. You’re so beautiful!”

Asa straightened, greeting your mom. 

“Wow, you look so chic.” your mom said, putting the basket down instantly to get a better look. “Like a model. Or one of those magazine girls. Wahh-c’mon, Asa. Turn around, let me see properly.”

Asa shyly did a 360, slowly as your mom fawned over her with praises. You were about to save Asa when your dad’s voice echoed from the hallway.

“Who’s that? I head Asa’s voice-”

He appeared next to your mom, one of his eyebrows raised.

“...Why did you cut your hair?” he asked, confused. “Did Joonhyuk break your heart?”

“Daddd.” you groaned from behind your towel, horrified.

Asa nearly choked on a laugh, hiding it behind her paper bag.

“I didn’t!” you said. “Nothing happened!”

You dad just nodded, still unconvinced. “Mmm, I know that look. Your mom cut her hair just like that when we broke up for a few months back then. I know that broken heart haircut.”

You two settled down on the couch, paper bag between you two, still warm with food. In the kitchen, your parents’ voices flowed through - your dad still going on about your mom’s short hair back when they broke up years ago while she was shushing him between laughter. Asa leaned in, shoulders brushing yours, and whispered:

“I didn’t cut it because of you… but I did kinda want to surprise you.”

Either way, you’re still beautiful.

You glanced sideways, forming a grin. “How am I supposed to play with your hair in class now?”

Asa rolled her eyes, but her smile suggested something else. “You already do that. Like, since middle school.”

“Exactly.” you said. “It de-stress me. What am I supposed to do in class with my fingers now?”

From the kitchen, your dad’s laugh boomed again, followed by your mom’s scolding whisper. For a second, this all felt stupidly perfect - making you forget about everything else.

-

One day, you were busy with extra training and sent Asa a quick message.

[준혁선베🥋]

extra training, can’t walk home with you today

sorry ㅠㅠㅠ

i’ll make up for u tomorrow

plss don’t be mad 

Asa understood. She didn’t want to be mad, she knew what you signed up for, she was just… lonely. The sun had dipped behind rooftops, Eungam-dong somehow felt weird today. Putting all her thoughts behind, Asa walked briskly, hands holding the straps of her backpack - she missed having someone, maybe you, by her side.

She cut through the narrow alley - the shortcut. Halfway through - she saw them. Those two guys, sunbaes, always loud, hovering near her desk during breaks with that fake friendliness, throwing out compliments that felt more like traps. But they never crossed the line, not when you were with her. Today, you weren’t. One of them noticed her first, then nudged the other. Their grins spread too fast.

“Oh, hey. Alone today?”

Asa kept her eyes forward. “Excuse me.” she said, trying to walk past like she didn’t hear them.

The tall one shifted to block her way. “Feisty, you talk to older guys like that?”

“Just let me go home.” she said quietly, not looking at them.

The shorter one leaned against the wall. “We’re not trouble. You think too low of us.”

“Also, don’t pretend you don't like the attention.” The taller one tilted to look at her, gaze sweeping from her face to her uniform. “You’ve been acting stuck up lately. You and that boyfriend of yours.”

She met his eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend. And I’m not interested in talking with you two.”

That made something in his eyes flicker. A challenge. “Then why are you blushing?”

“I’m not. Get out of my way.” she moved, now blocked by the shorter guy.

“You’ve got a sharp tongue for someone so small.” his voice now playful, but meant everything he said. “Makes me wonder how long you’d keep that attitude if you weren’t with that taekwondo kid.”

He reached forward, trying to tuck her hair behind her ear or touch her face. She smacked his hand away, hard. 

“Don’t fucking touch me.” The air now shifted. Before she could say anything - 

Smack

The slap echoed too loud in the alleyway, her head was snapped to the side, cheek flaring hot. She stumbled to her side, breath hitched, frozen. Her hand flew to her face, palm shaking, pressing against the pain - the sting was unbearable, along with the helplessness. 

The taller one muttered, “Fuck, what the hell..”

“This bitch asked for it.” The other one said. 

“Let’s just go.” They walked off, muttering curses - not glancing back.

Asa’s knees felt so weak. Her chest was tight. Her vision blurred. The tears then came, sharp, unannounced - filling her eyes  before she could stop them. She sanked to the ground, fingers clenching her backpack straps tight. She cried, quietly - the kind of crying that hurt, that burned because you tried so hard to not cry. And all she could think about was: Where were you?

-

That night, no texts from her, nothing. You sensed something was off. The next day came, you showed up at her gate like always. She was already outside, blazer all buttoned up. You smiled and waved casually.

“Hey… I’m sorry for last night. Uh, you didn’t text me back.”

Asa nodded. “Sorry, I was just… tired.”

You didn’t think much of it at first. She did look tired, pale - not like her usual self. You tried teasing her a little on the way. She didn’t answer. Just nodded a few times. It bugged you. You slowed your pace to match hers, slower than usual. 

“Everything okay?” you nudged her shoulder.

“Just cold.” she nodded, again.

Then, as you neared the school, you glanced at her face closely - Is that make up? More than usual. Covering something? Her skin was always smooth, barely needed makeup. But today - something seemed off. Under her left eye, just barely visible beneath a thin layer of foundation, there was some discoloration. Something that shouldn’t have been there.

You stopped walking. Reaching out, you gently tilted her chin. She flinched.

“Asa…” Your heart dropped.

“Don’t.” she pulled away.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s not nothing.” you were trying to keep your voice low. Calm. But your pulse was racing.

“Who did that to you?” you asked again, barely above a whisper. 

She paused for a long whisper. Then, softly said “Please, Joonhyuk-ah. I just want to forget about it.”

You clenched your jaw. Your whole body stiffened, trying not to explode right there. But you nodded. You wouldn’t press her now. But whoever did this? You weren’t letting them go.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

That day, you didn’t ask again. But you watched. Quietly. 

During break, you saw her flinching when one of those sunbaes passed too close behind her in the hallway. She didn’t say anything, but you sensed something was off. She didn’t laugh during lunch like she usually would, instead she kept checking over her shoulder. And then, you saw them.

Those two guys from the year above, leaning against the stairwell wall, eyes flickering to Asa as she passed. Whispering something. You didn’t do anything, not yet.

Later that day, you asked around - casually. Just a few questions to your friends, your sunbaes. One of them said he’d noticed them two trailing behind Asa these days, whenever you were off to practice. Hey, that was all you needed. When school ended, you already had their names. You sent Asa a message.

[준혁선배🥋]

more training, again

can u go home with yunah?

i asked her to walk you home

i don’t want anything bad happen to u again

-

You didn’t go home after school, opting to skip practice. You followed them. There they were - behind the neighborhood market, cutting through that empty lot near the old playground. Laughing they owned the world. You kept your distance, breathing calm. Waiting for your chance. When they stopped near the back alley of a fried chicken joint, about to light up a cigarette, you stepped out.

“Yah!”

They turned. Too late. 

In a flash, the taller one was slammed against the wall, the other shoved down by the collar, falling onto his knees with a grunt. You didn’t say anything, letting the silence take over and walked slowly to them. One tried to get up. You kicked the back of his knee. Hard. He dropped again. Then, you swung at the two of them. Hard. Both of them were now lying on the ground.

“Kneel. In front of me. Hands up in air”

They tried to catch a breath, looking at each other.

“Hurry up before I fucking lose it.”

And they did, obediently. 

You took your left Jordan off, pointing at the two of them.

“What did you two shitheads do yesterday? Huh?”

No answers, that only fueled your anger even more. Just two motherfucking cowards, kneeling, hands in the air. Your jaws clenched - trying to stay calm, that didn’t seem to work. You slapped the sole of your sneaker against the first guy’s face.

Smack. He flinched, head turning with the blow.

“I fucking said,” Smack “What did you-” Smack “do to her?”

 “W-We didn’t do… She just…” The other guy spoke up, just before he could finish his sentence-

Smack. A hit to his temple.

“Don’t fucking lie to me.”

They look terrified now - not only from pain, also from the way your voice never cracked. You looked batshit crazy.

“Asa had a bruise on her cheek. I saw it. She covered it with makeup.” You stared them both down. “She even covered for the two of you and didn’t tell me anything. You know why, huh?”

Your chest rose and fell from adrenaline. Then  you asked - low and sharp:

“Which one of you?”

Still nothing. So you stepped forward, pressing your sneaker against the shoulder of the guy on the left - the taller one. He flinched.

“You? You laid your dirty hands on her?” 

“No-no… It wasn’t me. I swear!”

The other one tensed his shoulders, kept his head down. Dead silence. So it was you.

You moved fast - grabbing his jacket and yanking him up.

“You slapped her.” just barely a whisper, enough for him to hear.

“I didn’t mean to-” he whimpered. Then - your fist connected, he collapsed to the ground.

You didn’t remember how hard or how long it took. You did know your punch was hard and you made sure they landed in the right places - enough for them to regret this for the rest of their life. The other one flinched, you pointed at him.

“You, too. Get up.”

A few slaps to the face and kicks to the knee later, he joined his friend on the ground. You signaled for them to stand up, like a coach at practice, gazed cold.

“Up. Fifty push-ups. Now.”

They blinked at you, stunned.

“I fucking said- Fifty push-ups. Each, Go. I got all night.”

The two of them looked at each other, unsure if you were joking. You weren’t.

“One, two…” your hands now in your pockets. 

They dropped, hands on concrete. And you watched, sneaker tapping the ground slowly. Each time they groaned, you’d add, “That’s four extra. Keep going.”

Your voice now steady, a bit more calmer. Still, you had to make sure they’d never go near her again.

-

The next day, the weight of everything hung over the classroom like a thick fog. Whispers had already started before class, threading through desks and across notebooks like a storm no one could stop. Some looked at you, some didn’t. Some didn’t even bother hiding the way they stared at you and Asa when you two walked in. You sat down, opened your book, tapping the pen against it - calm, quiet, like you hadn’t just done what you did the night before. Asa didn’t sit close this time. She slid into her seat with her eyes down, hugging her backpack like a shield. No jokes, no teasing that morning, either. You didn’t blame her. But it stung, so hard.

First period. As the teacher began roll call, the tension never broke. Then, right in the middle of the first period, there was a soft knock on the door, followed by the gym teacher opening the door.

“Uhm, I need… Seo Joonhyuk, Enami Asa.” he said flatly, eyes unreadable. “Come with me. Principal room.” That was it. Everybody knew.

You stood up slowly, adjusting your blazer. Asa hesitated, confused - she gave you a weird look before following. As you walked, you could feel everything - eyes, thoughts, gossips behind you. Heavy. Curious. By the time the door closed behind you two, the room hadn’t dropped into silence yet.

“Alright, class. Focus. Focus!”

-

The principal’s office was already full when you and Asa stepped in. The two dickheads were seated, looking like they’ve aged ten years overnight, bruises on their faces, eyes avoiding yours - should be like that. Asa slowed behind you, her steps faltering just lightly. 

Your mom sat on one side of the room, next to Ms. Keiko. Neither of them looked angry - which was worse. Your mom’s eyes were cold, controlled but full of disappointment. Ms. Keiko’s arms were folded, face unreadable. Asa was scared, choosing to sit next to her mother, like she didn’t know where else to go.

The atmosphere was stiff and silent. You felt like a loud breath could set everything off. Even the ticking of the clock above the principal desk felt loud. The principal stood behind his desk, his gaze swept across the room, landing on you last.

“Okay, now that you guys are all here. Let’s begin.” He started.

“I’ve heard everything. Several students witnessed the incident last night, and these two students have admitted to harassing Asa here repeatedly - for a long period, it seems.” He paused.

“And, uh… Joonhuk’s actions were violent, yes. I understand where it came from but this is still unacceptable behaviour for our school, our society.”

Asa’s eyes met yours. Shock, betrayal - like she couldn’t believe you, her Joonhyuk, the one who walked with her everyday for the past few years, had done that. You looked back at her, but she turned away, clutching her mother’s arm like she was holding herself together.

After a few phone calls, the principal talked to your moms. Your mom firm, Ms. Keiko calm but disappointed. You just held your head down, feeling like you had disappointed everyone once again.

There was no yelling, just tired voices trying to make sense of what happened.

The principal rested his hands on the desk, his voice calm and firm.

“The national taekwondo association was informed,” he began. “They’re disappointed but, fortunately, they understood where your actions came from, Joonhyuk-ah. That doesn’t excuse it, but they’ve made it clear: they still want you at the upcoming Asian Games. You’re one of the best our country has ever seen, at seventeen.”

He then glanced back at the moms. “Uhm, him along with Asa are bright students. Strong academic records, no prior incidents… Also, Joonhyuk is the youngest ever from an non-athletic school like ours to be selected to represent the nation. A really rare case. And because of that, they’ve requested a meeting with our school ethics board in the upcoming days to help mediate this.”

A pause. Then:

“Joonhyuk and his parents will have to be present. Pending review, we’re assigning Joonhyuk extended after school volunteer duties and weekend public service work. This has to stay within school records. I want you, Joonhyuk, to follow our instructions for now. And don’t make us regret this.” 

You tried to act normal, like nothing happened. But the room felt colder. And Asa’s silence? That was the worst part.

After everything, the two of you returned to class. No one said much, but everyone noticed. The seat felt further apart. Asa didn’t even look at you, once. You tried, everything. Tapping her side of the desk slightly, slipping her a note during break. No response. Even though you had every excuse, every reason, something about her silence just crushed you harder than the principal’s words ever could. When the last bell rang, you chased after her on the way home.

“Asa-”

She walked faster.

“Asa-ah, please. Wait for me.”

Nothing. Just the soft rhythms of her shoes on the pavement. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I just - I couldn’t let them get away with it. You were hurt and I wasn’t there.”

“You think that’s why I got mad?” she finally snapped, still not looking at you. “You think I need you to do that just because they hit me?!”

Her voice was shaky.

You stepped closer, letting out a breath. “Then why? Tell me. Please. I’ll do anything. Just don’t shut me out. I can’t take it.”

She stopped talking, finally turned around to face you. “I was scared. Not of them. OF YOU. Of what you would do when you found out.” You didn���t answer. 

“I needed you.” she continued, “But not like that. Not like some idiot who always resorts to violence.”

You tried to reach for her hand, but she pulled back.

“Please…”

Her eyes now wet, furious, but it wasn’t the anger that hurt. It was the look that said she didn’t know who you were anymore. She then muttered something in Japanese, like she always did when she didn’t want you to understand, like always did when she was mad. That… That made something twist in your chest.

“Again with that.” you exasperated. “Why do you always do that?” She looked away, refusing to answer. 

“I’m trying here, Asa. I’m telling you how I feel. I know I’m not right but-”

She cut you off, more angry words again in Japanese. This time, colder, sharper. You had no idea what they meant, but they sounded cruel. Like she was purposely keeping you out. Then, something inside you snapped.

“Just goddamn say it, Asa-ah.” you said, voice raised, hands on your head out of frustration.

“Say it to my face. Don’t act all high and mighty like a princess one second and turn into an annoying bitch the next.”

Silence.

Oh, shit. Why did I say that?

“Asa… I didn’t-”

Smack.

Hard.

You blinked. The sting bloomed across your cheeks. You had taken all kinds of hits, but this, this was deeper. Asa’s eyes were wide, full of hurt and disbelief, already glassy with tears.

She took a step back. Shaking. “I knew it. You only see what you want.”

“Asa, wait-” you tried again, stepping forward.

“No.” her voice cracked. “You don’t get to hurt me and act like you’re the one who’s broken.”

She turned before you could say another word. Her shoes scraped the pavements as she rushed off, hands covering her face. She didn’t look back, once.

You stood there, frozen. 

You did it again.

You hurt her.

You broke your promise.

You might have just lost someone who you couldn’t win back.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Yayy, part III done. idk what to say lol. it's not the end yet. things might happen. good or bad? wait for part IV, i guesss? love u guys. thanks so much for supporting me.

[noxitsnox]

first date headcanons- niki x reader

popular classmate!niki x fem!reader

summary: your classmate niki, who you've been crushing on since the first day you saw him, asks you on a date

tags: non idol au, fluff, both reader and niki are awkward

a/n: hc is my fav format idc idc. well this won the poll by a LOT so here we are, i'll post matthew in the weekend then <3

niki was the popular mysterious cool guy everyone had a crush on. you didn't think you had any chance to get with him, to you he was unreachable

what you didn't know was that niki had a crush on you too, and despite his reputation he was very shy and awkward so he'd just avoid you

until he saw you getting closer and closer to another guy in your class

he was jealous of course and finally he felt threatened enough to ask you out

he walked to your desk as soon as the lunch bell rang and asked you if you were free to talk in a more private place

you agreed instantly, a bit anxious in your stomach but also curious to know what he wanted

the empty classroom was filled by a heavy silence. niki was half-sat on a desk in front of you, his wouldn't dare to look up from the ground. "i... i was wondering if you were free this afternoon". you didn't say anything, you weren't sure you heard correctly. "i mean you're nice and pretty so we could go out if you want to."

and you wanted to

after school you rushed home to get ready, you didn't tell anyone in case this was all fake

niki met you at a park nearby, he got you some flowers. he didn't know your favorites so he chose the ones that matched your vibe the best

despite the first date typical tension everything went on smoothly

after a walk in the park you guys went in a supermarket to buy some food for the stray cats, something he'd do often evenn when he was alone

your crush on him only grew, you found out that under that tough look there was a golden heart

neither of you talked much, but the silence was comfortable and welcoming, sometimes one of you would point out a funny shaped cloud or an animal or other things you met during the walk and often it would lead to sharing anecdotes about each others

after he walked you home he didn't kiss you, he hugged you and told you he enjoyed the afternoon with you

and it was enough to make you both a blushing mess

you thanked him and told him you liked it too before, spurred on by who knows what wave of courage, you kissed his cheek and went back home

[mysteriouself]

"I'll handle it." Besides he doubted that his father would allow him to be thrown out. He'd just make 'generous donation' and the Headmistress would forget all about his poor choices with little more than a slap on the wrist. "An excellent question." Triss removed the cover from the ingredients that she had upon her desk, giving just a moment for those students that might know exactly what they were for. "You're going to be working on a love potion. Amortentia to be exact." A love potion? Much as Avallac'h knew he shouldn't question a teacher the sight of not only Isilira rubbing her hands together eagerly, but Kayleigh and Mistle sharing a look had him concerned. "Professor Merigold, I don't mean any offense, but is it really a good idea to teach something like this to students?" "None taken. I understand your concern, but the very point of this class is to learn how to defend against it. If you can recognize the potion all the better to combat it's effects." Triss answered. "Now if you're comfortable please begin." Avallac'h smiled a bit sheepishly, because of course the very reason for it being taught would be defense. He should have known. Thankfully Triss was perhaps the most kindhearted Professor here and she didn't hold it against him.

"Sneaking into the girls dorms am I? Ah, at least that indiscretion would please my father." He supposed he was going to be getting into some trouble if he was caught, but Ciri was asking and he wasn't going to say no to her. He meant it when he said anything. If she asked him to jump off the astronomy tower there was a high chance he'd do that too. Stepping into Professor Merigold's class he noted that once again Isilira looked slighted when she realized she could not approach him as he was keeping in his partnership with Ciri. Worse she had nowhere else to go other than to pair up with the lankiest muggleborn he'd ever seen. He had to try not to smile too much in amusement at her slight.

[writinginatree]

Ice Cream for Breakfast

Relationship(s): Imogen Cardulo/Riorson!reader, Bodhi Durran & Xaden Riorson & Riorson!reader, Xaden Riorson/Violet Sorrengail

Summary: Being back home in Aretia means no one can stop you from having ice cream for breakfast — though your girlfriend might judge you a little.

For my Imogen anon 🩷 (This isn't the longer idea I mentioned, just a silly little thing that's been sitting on my idea list since last summer. I'll still write that one too eventually, but for now have this!)

Trudging into the small private kitchen in the family wing of Riorson House, your brother raises his scarred brow at you. "Are you seriously having ice cream for breakfast?"

"Mornin', Xay," you mumble around a mouthful of the aforementioned treat. "Do you wan' some too?"

Silence stretches as he debates it for a second, two; then, "Yes."

A grin spreads on your face. You love being a bad influence. Xaden can call you a feral little gremlin for it all he wants, you both know that sometimes, he needs his favorite little sibling's encouragement to put his responsibility aside and just live a little.

You jump up from your seat at the table to grab a glass bowl for Xaden, heaping ice cream into it as he makes for the pot of coffee on the stove. Though you're not a fan of the bitter stuff yourself, it had been your duty as the first person to enter the kitchen this morning to prepare it.

Xaden pours himself a cup and slides into his usual seat next to yours. You top his bowl of chocolate ice cream with a handful of cherries, just like you had your own, and grab him a spoon.

"Thanks, bubs," he says as you set both in front of him and sit down.

Xaden has taken no more than a couple of bites when footsteps sound in the hall again and Bodhi appears in the doorway, fully dressed in his uniform but still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

He blinks at the both of you, the corners of his mouth lifting into a grin. "Are you two seriously having ice cream for breakfast?"

Xaden points his spoon at him, and orders, "Have some too or shut up."

Your cousin shrugs and makes a beeline for the icebox; a minute later, he sits opposite you and Xaden with his own dish of ice cream.

Soon, the comfortable silence is interrupted once again as Imogen and Violet return from their morning run. They take one glance at what is sitting on the table for breakfast, and share a look that seems to say Can you believe these heathens?

Violet walks up behind your brother, dropping a kiss to the top of his head, and says, "Please tell me you had some real food already."

"Afraid I can't do that, love," he mumbles with a sheepish little smile few people ever get to see. "Unless you'd like me to lie."

Violet smiles back and shakes her head. "You're weird."

"Clearly, this whole family is weird," Imogen adds as she comes to your side, throwing a pointed glance at the three bowls of half-eaten ice cream on the table.

Violet nods, but despite her talk, she doesn't hesitate to accept the spoonful of ice cream Xaden offers her.

"How was your run?" you ask, cocking your head to glance up at your girlfriend.

"Good. You should join us some time."

"Thanks, but I'll pass," you answer. "If I have to get up any earlier than I already do, I'd have to go the bed straight after dinner to get enough sleep."

"Alright, sleepy beauty," Imogen laughs.

You dip your spoon into the pool of melting ice cream slowly forming before you. "Would you like some?"

"No offense, babe, but I'd really prefer to eat a proper meal." The look on her face borders between amusement and exasperation. "So should you, by the way. You have flight maneuvers and two hours of gym today. If all you have in your stomach for that is ice cream, you're going to be miserable the whole time."

You take another spoonful, waving her concerns aside. "If I get hungry, I can just have a banana or something between classes."

"You're incorrigible," Imogen sighs. "And you have ice cream on your lip."

You stick out your tongue to lick first your upper, then your lower lip, but your girlfriend shakes her head.

"Come here."

She places a hand under your chin and pushes slightly, tipping back your head. Then she leans over you and slots her lips against your own. Her tongue swipes over the corner of your mouth.

Pulling back, she rubs her thumb over the same spot, ensuring any traces of ice cream are gone. "Are those cherries I taste?"

"Yep. I put a whole handful in my ice."

"Well, at least you're getting your vitamins."

"You know what, if you give me another kiss, I'll even come down to the mess hall with you and have some proper breakfast, as you call it."

Not that you wouldn't do that anyway — sit with her, at least, and probably snatch a few bites off her plate. She knows it, too; after all, that's why she always takes an extra sausage or egg to share with you, regardless of what your own breakfast consists of that day.

Imogen clicks her tongue. "So you want me to resort to bribery now?"

"You're the one who wants me to eat a balanced diet."

"You should."

"I know." You grin. "So, are you going to make me?"

"Oh, yes. I most definitely will."

Her lips meet yours again, and you think to yourself that for this, you could be convinced to do just about anything, including getting proper nutrition.

From the corner of your eye, you note Xaden pulling Violet onto his lap, deepening the kiss they seem to have been locked in for a while. You quickly shut your eyes against the sight and focus on the feeling of your own girlfriend's lips against yours.

As one kiss turns to many, Bodhi looks left, to you and Imogen making out, then right, to Xaden and Violet doing the same, and gives a long-suffering sigh. "Really, guys? Right in front of my ice cream?"

"Sorry," you break apart just long enough to say. "Just, uh, look away for a moment?"

Then you're distracted by Imogen's lips once more. The next time you glance over, you realize Bodhi used the moment of you looking away to snatch the remains of your forgotten ice cream for himself.

He puts the empty bowls in the sink, smirking when he notices the offended look you give him.

You blow a raspberry at him in response; Bodhi returns the gesture.

Rolling your eyes, you ask, "You sure you don't want us to find you a girlfriend? Or boyfriend?" You wave your hand around. "A whatever-friend to distract you from stealing my ice cream?"

Bodhi snorts, shaking his head. "No, thanks. I like stealing your ice cream. Besides, I don't think I'm interested in that sort of thing."

"Alright then," you shrug, and turn back to Imogen. "But don't think that means I'll let you get away with eating my breakfast."

Ignoring the threat, Bodhi grabs himself some fruit from the counter and heads for the door with a glance at the clock. "If you three don't want to be late for class, you might want to save the rest of your make out sessions for later."

Violet curses, and gives Xaden one more peck on the lips before rushing to get a quick breakfast of her own, and Imogen groans in annoyance, following with you in tow.

[messerscest]

sex hotline, voice kink, mentions of phone sex experiences

Desperate times lead to desperate measures. Atleast thats the mantra and excuse that repeats through Remus' mind when he logs into his work again.

It was meant to be part time, talking strangers and freaks through their desires, getting a tip and hanging up. He said he'd only do it for 20 hours a week, a little extra cash with christmas coming up.

It's now may... and he does about 6 hours a night, he has no excuses sure but he pretends that its because he's used to the new income and not because he actually enjoys it.

He gets all sorts of requests, to degrade people, insult them, treat them like shit. Worse than he would his worst enemy, and yet they cum, they thank him, they call him sir and daddy, even mummy sometimes, he just laughs at them. It works for them regardless.

Other times he's praising them, calling them handsome, pretty, calling them girls or boys and making them feel good in their skin, its those calls that remus pretends he's doing it for. Sure they feel good but theres nothing that's on his mind if not him.

Him being Prince. At least, that's what he was told to address the caller. Prince calls twice a week, three if he's lucky. Prince has an addicting voice, its deep and sultry and he has an accent that isnt from london but its definitely english.

Prince makes him treat him with respect, they roleplay all sorts of scenarios and all remus does is talk him through it. Sometimes Prince even laughs when he starts to ramble, sure the man rarely tips and usually that puts remus off but something about him is addicting. Almost familiar.

He's been speaking to Prince for around 3 months, listening to him groan, thank him, moan is nickname or 'alias' like a blessing to him. Rem became something he cant hear in public. Thank god for his friends who call him moony.

Prince even compliments his voice, on days were they roleplay mutual touching sometimes it isnt all pretend, remus sits in his position, headset a little askew and he pants, he asks how Prince found it.

"Perfect, as always. Till next time"

and the silence.

Remus gets off to that voice even when it isnt there, remembering every "thank you" "please" and "I'm close", he's had many sleepless nights and aching wrists from it.

Something about Prince just keeps him there. Addicted and desperate for every ring of his line to be him. The soft moans and groans doing nothing to ease his obsession.

Until potions. Potions isnt Remus' favourite class but he passes, and he sits in the back with james who only sat there because he wanted to be near lily. Who happens to partner with snivellus.

Then he hears it. That grunt. That soft voice mumbling away close to his ear. His head snaps up. Almost on habit. Looking for him. For prince.

The chances feel impossible and yet he sees snape struggling, the small "fuck" slipping past his lips and its followed by a sound of frustration that remus is all to familiar with from edging the boy.

His world almost pauses. Prince is snape. He's been getting off with snape. For months. Prince is snape, who is from little whinging which is outside of london, which is why the accent was so familiar because he shares it with lily.

Remus feels sick and suddenly everything is a little too much all at once.

He'll confront snape. He has to, and yet for someone who is on call for 6 hours a night his voice is suddenly gone.

[ni-namutree]

foxes' prank war

the foxes, after aaron's trial, slowly start to get to know each other. sure, they are all trauma-bonded and family, but they still dont really like each other all that much (even tho they do love each other). them all having movie nights and group bonding sessions that no one acknowledges as bonding sessions

no one knows how it happened or when it started but the foxes start a generational prank war. at first it was small things like gluing jars shut or drawing on someone's face when they were sleeping (they tried to keep that to the non traumatized ones specifically the ones who didnt hit first think later).

then things started to escalate (nothing crazy where someone got hurt) but hair was dyed, mattresses were stolen, and cars were painted (with extremely removable paint bc andrew would kill everyone if they did something to his car he couldnt fix easily)

boundaries were extremely necessary but they were the foxes, they were NOT about to bring that up lmao

then one day andrew and aaron tell bee about the most recent prank. someone shaved nicky's hair.

andrew doesnt think hes ever seen bee's professional fascade fall so abruptly. she goes pale and gapes in horror before scrambling for her phone.

"where is he right now?" she asks while rapidly clicking buttons on her phone, "where is nicky?"

aaron and andrew share a look. (how far they have progressed)

"he should be at the dorms, i think he has class in an hour"

betsy brings the phone to her ear and the twins can hear the soft sound of the ringtone. they hear nicky pick up.

"where are you, nicky?"

theres no response for a moment.

"so you heard?"

they watch bee grasp her phone tighter. "where are you?" she presses.

"i'm in the dorm," a pause. "with matt and neil"

bee lets out a breath. "are you okay?"

"yea i'll just bust out the old trusty wig" he says with a laugh, his voice light, suspiciously so.

"nicky..." betsy glances their way. "i want you to check in with me every hour for the next week. if i dont get a call or text from you, i'm going to send emergency services to your location."

"isnt that bit of an overreaction?"

andrew doesnt know what's going on but hes slowly putting the pieces together.

"is it?"

nicky sighs. he then says something the twins cant make out but bee can.

but they can hear the dial tone signalling the end of the call.

bee wrings her hands together. "im sorry, that was quite unprofessional of me."

tbc

[devilscheck]

From their meeting at the party until now, she had VERY minimal need to stay quiet. There was something she found almost SATISFYING in people knowing they were together and at that, how much they enjoyed each other's company. It was for that reason the sound of the wood against the wall, his sounds, and the way their airy breath and pants piled into the air that she couldn't help but ENJOY this moment all the more. Even more so, they now shared small PHYSICAL reminders of each other.

Destiny was a WEIRD thing to think about, especially in a situation that involved two moments of what she'd later repeat as transcendent sex. Wasn't FATE supposed to be brushed hands of what if at a coffee shop, not fully entangled still after hours of first meeting. That could be argued, sure, but she couldn't help the feeling that they had been pulled together for a reason. Her mind had just kept RACING on how taken she was by him, lost endlessly in his dark eyes and smile.

Eyes flutter back to him, legs still loosely around his waist that acts like an anchor to the present moment. She can't hide the blush on her features as his fingers are brought to his lips, a rise in her chest that if it weren't for class, would have pulled him back to bed. The way his lips felt against her warm skin now only made that thought last. "I'm PRETTY sure I dreamed you up," eyes rolled playfully as he moved down her body, a sigh as he stood up rather than continue.

Body rolled onto her side as she stayed laying on his bed a moment, brunette locks fell over her skin. There's a toying grin to his words, Jennifer mesmerized by both his honest and sweetness. Most guys would have been out of the room by now, or so she had experienced. "You can turn off the apology puppy eyes-" nose crinkled as she leaned into the kiss before a hand touched his wrist to keep him in place for a split second.

"You just owe me like the ULTIMATE cuddle session later." Another poke to see him again even if that night wasn't in the cards. Perhaps a bit pathetic in the way she kept implying yet she couldn't care to stop herself; when he saw someone she wanted, she didn't so easily back down. "I think I'm going to be a LITTLE too tempted to follow you into the shower, so it might be best I hit the road before I ULTRA ruin your day-" Day or attendance, her head was still DIZZIED from everything. Her hand let go of his as she sat up.

"Though I'm PRETTY sure I was promised a shirt for the road, so-" one brow raised as she moved across the room to collect her thong and bra. "And I'd LOVE to hear what a proper goodbye is. I'm usually used to the Irish version-" a joke as she shot a wink his way.

Jaw grabbed, electricity shoots through his body at how persistent she was to have some bit of control. Sure, it's shared between them, but with her hand at his jaw, he feels his body melt into her, momentarily relaxing like the dog he could be listening to his owner. Such a feeling had been unfamiliar, but not unwelcomed. A new bout of arousal through his body when he's brought where she wants him, and not where he wants to be.

Kiss returned, lapped up between his own noises; both moan against each others skin, hers against his jaw and his own against her cheek where sounds sweep by her ear. Hearty, thick in volume as chest moves in tandem with hips and fingers focus in on clit between.

The tighter her legs coil around his waist, the further he's coaxed. I'm doing a good job, in the most grotesque way, wet hand between, moving to urge her into her climax and well after. A climax felt by the way nails drag along skin, carved marks into him as his own breed of branding likened to that of the mark on her neck. Shared ( temporary ? ) promise between them that for the next forty eight hours, or until marks heal, the two were connected as one unapologetically.

Fingers curl against bed's headboard, noise growing as her own thighs squeeze against him and her pleasure brings upon waves of his own. Between quick bangs of wood to dry wall are shared, slack-jaw moans from the very barrel of his chest. Shameless as the marks they made.

Not long after does his own climax arise in him, just as soon as her come down approaches, his comes upon him. Further pounds to wall, a few firm thrusts press inside of her, working her for ever drop of her release against him in slow effort pumps until condom fills and muscles tense. He holds inside of her, firm, longing; if not for condom, he would have been working every drop of his own inside of her with a few more thrusts.

Kiss is exchanged lazily, following her lead like the pup he had proved himself to be. Well trained in just hours, and proud of it, too. Hand comes up between them and in the midst of kiss, a small daring movement of mixing in fingers between their lips for a taste- cleaned by his own lips which then meet her own. Small murmur, "you taste as good as you felt. Couldn't resist it..."

Another stolen kiss, head and body dipping low to ease himself out from inside of her while resting lips to her neck and chest, followed by curves of breasts and down her stomach. Some temptation overcomes him, as does nerves, as his lips reach her hip. Ultimately deciding to stand from the bed, pull condom, repeat test to make sure no holds or breaks in latex occurred. Tied and pinched, then time is chest.

"You know I'm a cuddler," he quickly precedes as the condom is tossed into bin and a wipe is grabbed. Hand quickly cleans himself, and pajamas from the evening before are picked up. "But I really need to go shower before class." Last thing he needs is for his haste to be misinterpreted, and he looks to her with apology. His hand- the clean one, specifically- reaches to pinch her chin and draw her face up into a chaste kiss. "You can stay, or- if you need to go, you can go... I'm fine with whatever. But if you're leavin', I want a proper goodbye..."

if that's okay...and not too forward?