#CA Final Lectures | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cyofii · 2 months ago

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⩩﹕IN WHICH Phainon, always the playful troublemaker, decides to help his friend Mydei get closer to you. With the new library opening next to your favorite café, Mydei, the kind and mysterious owner, has been secretly watching you but has never had the courage to talk to you. Now, with a little help from Phainon, the chance is finally here. As you share shy glances and small talk, the two of you slowly begin to understand each other. Meanwhile, Phainon watches happily, believing his plan will work… eventually.

wc: 3.6k 𐔌 ᯓ modern/college au, slow burn, friends to lovers, mydei being secretly smitten, mutual pinning if you squint, might be ooc!

“I heard there’s a new library that just opened right beside the café we always go to,” Castorice said, glancing up from her book with a hint of excitement in her voice. It looked like she had been jotting down ideas for a new chapter again—her pen still hovering above the page. You looked up from your phone, eyebrows raised in confusion as you tried to recall if you’d seen any signs of construction the last time you were there.

“Really? Are you thinking of going there to look for inspiration?” you asked, slowly lowering your phone on the table as curiosity began to spark in your voice. Castorice nodded, a soft smile spreading across her face, the kind that made her eyes light up. “I thought it might be nice,” she said, “A change of scenery could help me get through this chapter.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” you asked with a warm smile, your voice gentle as you leaned slightly forward, genuinely interested. “We could check out the library first, and then head to the café to hang out like we usually do.”

Castorice looked at you, her smile growing a little wider, touched by the offer. “I’d really like that,” she replied softly, her fingers pausing on the edge of her notebook. “It’s easier for me to write when you’re around… I feel less stuck.” Her gaze lingered for a moment, as if silently thanking you for always being there.

“No problem!” you said with a cheerful grin, flashing a smile in her direction. As you and Castorice continued chatting, the soft hum of the cafeteria around you blending into the background, a familiar figure with white hair approached, looking mildly frazzled and out of breath.

“There you guys are!” Phainon exclaimed, sliding into the seat beside you with a dramatic sigh. “Professor Anaxa just won’t let me go until I finish that one-thousand-word essay about Dromas,” he groaned, slumping forward onto the table as if the weight of academic suffering had finally crushed him. “I swear he has it out for me.”

“Well, you did turn in a blank essay before,” you said with a teasing smile, unable to hold back a laugh. “So honestly? This one’s totally on you.”

Castorice let out a soft giggle, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, clearly amused by the memory. Meanwhile, Phainon only sighed louder, dramatically resting his forehead on the table.

“I was having a creative block, okay?” he mumbled, voice muffled against the surface. “Totally different situation.”

“Whatever you say…” you said with a playful smile, shaking your head slightly. Then a thought struck you. “Oh, by the way—are you free after class? Cas and I were planning to check out the new library next to the café we always go to.”

Phainon lifted his head, blinking a few times before meeting your gaze. “Library and café?” he echoed, then gave a quick nod. “Sure! Sounds better than sulking in the dorms over that essay, anyway.”

The afternoon sun filtered through the classroom windows, casting golden patches of light across your desk. Professor Anaxa was deep into his lecture about ancient civilizations, his voice steady as he paced across the front of the room. You were half-listening, somewhere between jotting down notes and sneaking glances at your two friends.

Castorice sat a few seats ahead, scribbling diligently in her notebook, her brows slightly furrowed in concentration. It was clear she was trying her best to stay focused, though the way her gaze occasionally drifted to the window hinted that her thoughts were already wandering toward the library plans.

Beside you, Phainon looked like a tired golden retriever stuck in a history class. His head rested on his hand, eyelids drooping every few minutes, and every now and then, he’d scribble something that probably wasn’t related to the lecture, just enough to make it look like he was keeping up.

You nudged him with your elbow. He flinched upright slightly, blinking at you with a betrayed, sleepy expression.

“I was listening,” he whispered, clearly bluffing.

“Sure you were,” you whispered back, trying not to laugh.

Up front, Professor Anaxa paused mid-sentence and turned around. “Is there something amusing you’d like to share with the class?” he asked, arching a brow.

You and Phainon straightened in sync, both shaking your heads quickly like well-behaved students. Castorice glanced over her shoulder with a small, knowing smile, barely hiding her amusement.

As soon as the professor turned back to the board, Phainon leaned toward you again and muttered, “Okay, maybe I do deserve that one-thousand-word essay…”

The moment Professor Anaxa dismissed the class with a sharp tap of his pen against the desk, the three of you practically leapt out of your seats. Phainon let out a dramatic groan as he stretched, slinging his bag over his shoulder like he’d just escaped a life sentence.

“Freedom never tasted so good,” he sighed, trailing after you and Castorice as you all made your way down the hallway.

Castorice chuckled softly, hugging her notebook close to her chest. “You act like you just finished a twelve-hour shift at a coal mine.”

“I might as well have,” Phainon replied, feigning exhaustion. “My brain has withered. My soul aged ten years.”

You smiled. “Good thing we’re going somewhere peaceful. Who knows, maybe the library will help restore your ‘withered’ brain.”

The three of you stepped out into the warm glow of the late afternoon sun. The sidewalk was quiet, lined with swaying trees and the occasional rustle of passing students. Just a short walk from the campus gates, the familiar café came into view—its windows glowing softly, the scent of brewed coffee drifting through the air. But today, your eyes were drawn to the sleek building next to it: tall glass windows, elegant wood paneling, and a freshly painted sign that read Kremnoan Public Library.

“There it is,” Castorice said, her eyes lighting up as she pointed to it. “It looks so calm.”

“And bookish,” Phainon added. “Like a place where the air itself smells like old pages and productivity.”

You laughed. “Let’s check it out.”

The doors opened with a soft chime, and the scent of new books and polished wood wrapped around you like a gentle hug. Shelves stretched high and far, with sunlight pouring in from the skylights above. It was quiet, but not cold—welcoming, like it had been waiting for people just like you.

“I think I’m going to like it here,” Castorice murmured, already drifting toward a corner desk near the window.

Phainon blinked up at the ceiling. “I might actually feel inspired to write that essay…”

You raised a brow. “That’s a big maybe.”

He grinned. “I said might.”

Ignoring Phainon's words, the three of you quietly went your separate ways inside the library.

The space was bigger than it looked from the outside, with towering shelves that seemed to stretch endlessly. You wandered through the aisles, your eyes drifting over titles that sparked your curiosity, history books, fantasy epics, and scientific journals. Despite all the options, you somehow ended up in the light novel section, the one place you often found comfort after a long day.

You slowly scanned the shelves, your fingers brushing across worn covers and fresh ones alike. A few familiar titles stood out, but one in particular caught your attention. It was a book Castorice had recommended to you before. The cover looked exactly like how she described it, and just the sight of it brought a small smile to your face.

You reached out for it without hesitation, eager to finally give it a try. Just as your fingers touched the book, another hand reached out at the same time.

Your hands brushed against each other.

Startled, you looked up just as the other person did too.

A man stood across from you, tall and composed, with an unfamiliar but calm presence. His eyes met yours for a moment, sharp, golden, and strangely warm. He didn’t speak right away, and neither did you.

The silence stretched, not awkward, but still enough to make you realize your hand was still lightly touching his.

“Oh,” he said, voice low and smooth, almost too gentle for someone his size. He glanced at the book between your hands. “Looks like we had the same idea.”

You quickly pulled your hand back, heart skipping a beat. “Ah—sorry! Did you want it?”

He shook his head, the corner of his lips lifting into a small smile. “No, you go ahead. I’ve already read it. It’s a good one.”

He reached up to return another book to the shelf beside you. The cuff of his black dress shirt shifted slightly as he moved, his gestures neat and practiced. Before you could think of anything else to say, he gave you a short nod and stepped away, heading toward another section with quiet, steady footsteps.

You stood frozen, gripping the book.

“He’s… handsome,” you muttered, a bit too loudly.

A soft snort came from behind.

You turned to see Castorice standing there, eyebrows raised and clearly holding back a grin. “That obvious?”

Your face warmed. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

She laughed quietly, linking her arm with yours. “Come on, lovebird. Let’s find a seat.”

The next day, the cafeteria buzzed with its usual midday chaos—clattering trays, low chatter, and the hum of students trying to relax between classes. You and Castorice sat across from each other, your half-eaten lunch long forgotten as the conversation circled back to the one thing that had been stuck in your mind since yesterday.

“I still can’t believe you said that out loud,” Castorice teased, sipping her iced tea with a knowing smile. “You should’ve seen your face.”

You groaned softly, hiding behind your hands. “I was caught off guard, okay? He was just… he had this calm aura. And his voice. And the way he just—ugh. Why are mysterious guys always so cool?”

“He was polite too,” Castorice nodded thoughtfully. “Didn’t even look annoyed when your hand touched his.”

You glanced to the side, then back at her. “I wonder who he is. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him around before.”

Just then, Phainon plopped down beside you, placing a few snack packs on the table. “You two are talking about Mydei, huh?”

You blinked. “Wait. You know his name?”

Phainon raised an eyebrow like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah. We’re in the same Ethics class.”

Castorice nearly dropped her drink. “You know him?!”

“Sure do,” he said with a casual shrug, already tearing open a bag of chips. “Smart guy. Doesn’t talk much. Kinda intense. Has this weirdly perfect handwriting.”

You stared at him. “And you just… didn’t say anything yesterday?”

Phainon stuffed a chip into his mouth. “No one asked.”

You and Castorice exchanged a look of disbelief.

“He’s a student?” you asked.

“Mm-hmm,” Phainon nodded. “Same year, too. He just keeps to himself most of the time. Spends a lot of time in the library ever since it opened. Pretty sure he works there too or something. Might even live nearby.”

You blinked slowly, the realization settling in. “That explains a lot.”

Phainon smirked. “What, you gonna go back to the library and confess now?”

Your hand immediately went to your drink, taking a long sip to avoid answering.

Castorice chuckled. “Be honest, if we run into him again, you’re totally going to freeze, aren’t you?”

“I’ll have you know,” you said, trying to sound dignified, “that I am perfectly capable of functioning like a normal person around handsome, mysterious guys.”

Both of them stared at you.

“…Sometimes,” you added.

Later that afternoon, you found yourself back at the Kremnoan Library, though you weren’t entirely sure why.

You hadn’t borrowed anything yesterday. There was no real reason to come back. But here you were, wandering past the front desk with Castorice beside you, trying to look casual while your eyes flicked over every aisle.

Castorice leaned in slightly. “So… are we pretending this is just another visit, or are we being honest about it?”

You gave her a pointed look. “It’s a library. I’m allowed to show up and browse.”

She grinned. “Sure. Totally not hoping to accidentally run into someone.”

You didn’t answer, choosing instead to turn into the same section as before—the shelves filled with light novels and some fantasy titles. You pretended to scan the books, fingers lightly brushing along the covers, heart quietly thudding in your chest for no reason you could admit aloud.

Then you heard it.

“You’re back.”

You turned, and there he was again.

Mydei stood a few feet away, holding a couple of books in one hand, a calm expression on his face. His gaze met yours easily, as if you were someone he fully expected to see again.

“Looking for something specific?” he asked, voice as smooth as yesterday, but a touch more curious.

“I… no,” you admitted. “Just browsing again.”

He nodded slowly, eyes flicking to the shelf you were near. “There’s a new arrival two rows over. Same author as the one you were interested in yesterday.”

You blinked. “You remembered?”

He gave the smallest shrug. “It was a good choice.”

You barely registered Castorice pretending not to hover behind you.

“Well, thank you,” you said, trying not to smile too hard. “I might check it out.”

He gave you a soft look, not quite a smile, but something that lingered in his eyes, before turning and walking past. His footsteps were quiet on the wooden floor.

Castorice waited two full seconds before whispering, “Okay. He remembered what book you were looking at, and you still think it was just a coincidence?”

“I don’t know what to think,” you said, trying to steady your breath.

From the next aisle, Phainon suddenly popped his head around the corner, holding a random book and grinning like he knew everything.

“Are we still pretending this is a casual visit, or are we admitting it now?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “How long have you been there?”

Phainon shrugged. “Long enough.”

He tossed the book into the crook of his arm and added, “Oh, by the way, Mydei and I have a class later. I’ll tell him you said hi.”

Your mouth opened, then closed. “You are unbelievable.”

“But you didn’t say not to,” Phainon said innocently, strolling off like this was all a normal day.

Castorice was already laughing beside you. “We should’ve known he’d show up.”

“Mydeimos!” Phainon called out, walking toward Mydei, who was just about to exit the classroom.

“Oh, it’s you. What do you want now?” Mydei raised an eyebrow, his voice laced with indifference.

Phainon dramatically placed a hand over his heart, pretending to be hurt by the cold reception. “When you’re talking to them, you get all soft and gentle, but when it comes to me, it’s all cold and distant!” He pretended to sniff, his eyes wide with playful sadness. “Why do you hate me, Mydeimos?”

“I don’t hate you. I just don’t get all nice and soft for you like I do for others,” he said, his tone playful.

Phainon let out a playful sigh, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “I see how it is. I’ll remember this betrayal.”

“You’re impossible,” Mydei muttered, but the smirk on his face said otherwise.

“Still, though, you pulled it off!” Phainon beamed, clearly proud of himself. He hadn’t expected his little plan to actually work.

A few days before you and Mydei spoke for the first time, Mydei had already been admiring you from afar. Ever since Phainon befriended you on the very first day, he’d noticed the way Mydei’s gaze lingered a bit too long whenever you were around. It was a shame, really. Mydei didn’t even share a single class with you.

But Phainon had noticed. Whether it was in the corner of the cafeteria, walking down the hallway, or lingering near the courtyard, Mydei always seemed to be nearby whenever you and Castorice were hanging out. That’s when Phainon decided to do something about it.

He cornered Mydei one day after their ethics class.

“You like them, don’t you?” Phainon had said with a raised eyebrow.

As expected, Mydei did not give him a clear answer. He either dodged the question completely or brushed it off like it meant nothing. But Phainon did not give up. He remembered Mydei mentioning that he was the owner of the new library being built beside the café that the three of you often visited.

That’s when the plan formed.

The moment the Kremnoan Library opened, Phainon made it his mission to drag you there. He figured that if Mydei wouldn’t make a move, he’d give him the perfect opportunity: a quiet space, the two of you alone, no interruptions. Just enough to spark something... or at least get Mydei to finally speak to you.

And now, seeing how things were playing out, Phainon couldn’t help but feel smug.

“You know… I heard something new was added to the menu at the café next to your library,” Phainon said, wiggling his eyebrows at Mydei.

Mydei didn’t even hesitate, he lightly punched Phainon on the arm.

“What are you planning now exactly?” he asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

Phainon grinned. “You ask them to go on a date with you! I’ll make sure Castorice and I are conveniently busy so we don’t interrupt.”

He leaned back against the wall with a smug expression, clearly enjoying himself as he imagined how everything might play out. "C'mon, you've got the perfect setting. Just say the word, and I'll handle the rest."

It was a quiet Saturday morning when you found yourself once again wandering into the Kremnoan Library. With no classes and the weather calm and cool, it felt like the perfect day to catch up on some reading.

You were flipping through a book near the back shelves when you heard someone approach. The footsteps were light but familiar, and when you turned your head, you found Mydei standing there.

He looked a bit more casual than usual, wearing the same black dress shirt with the sleeves neatly rolled up to his elbows. His hands were tucked into his pockets, and for a brief moment, he seemed to be gathering his thoughts.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low but steady. “Do you have any plans today?”

You shook your head, smiling. “Not really. Just came here to read.”

“Perfect,” he said, a little too quickly, before clearing his throat. “I was thinking... maybe we could go to the café next door. Together.”

You blinked in surprise. “You mean... right now?”

He nodded. “If you’re free. I thought... maybe I could buy you something.”

You couldn’t stop the grin that formed. “Are you asking me out on a date, Mydei?”

He didn’t answer right away, but a small, almost shy smirk appeared on his lips. “Only if you say yes.”

You let out a soft laugh, feeling a warmth rise in your chest. “Then yes.”

Mydei’s smirk grew just a little, and without another word, he motioned for you to walk with him. You both exited the library together, stepping into the gentle morning breeze. The café was just a short walk away, and for a while, the two of you walked side by side in a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t feel awkward at all.

You leaned back a little in your chair, sipping your juice as you watched Mydei quietly fiddle with the handle of his coffee cup. It was rare to see him look unsure of himself. Usually, he carried a calm, unreadable air, but right now, he looked like he was searching for words.

"Mydei?" you asked gently, setting your drink down. "Is something wrong?"

He shook his head quickly, almost too quickly. "No. It’s just..." He paused, frowning at his coffee as if it would help him gather his thoughts.

You waited patiently, a small smile playing on your lips.

"I’m not good with... saying things," he finally muttered. "But... I think you’re... nice. And... I like being around you."

His voice was quiet, but honest, almost vulnerable.

You blinked, your heart fluttering at his words. A warm feeling bubbled up inside you, and before you could stop yourself, you let out a soft laugh.

"That's the sweetest thing I’ve heard all day," you said warmly.

Mydei coughed awkwardly, his hand running through his messy hair as he looked away, his ears slightly tinted red. "I just thought you should know," he added, his voice almost a grumble.

You smiled brightly and leaned forward just a little. "Well, I like being around you, too."

He glanced back at you, and for a moment, the faintest smile touched his lips, gentle and unguarded.

The sun outside glowed a little brighter through the window, but somehow, nothing felt warmer than the look Mydei was giving you right now.

Unbeknownst to you and Mydei, two very familiar figures had quietly slipped into the café. Hiding behind a menu near the entrance, Phainon and Castorice peered over the top, barely containing their giggles.

"Would you look at that," Phainon whispered, a mischievous grin on his face. "Our dear Mydei actually pulled it off."

Castorice nodded, smiling fondly. "They look good together," she said softly.

"Should we say hi?" Phainon asked, already halfway standing up.

Castorice grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him down. "No way. Let them have their moment."

Phainon pouted, but stayed put, sneaking another peek at you and Mydei. The two of you were leaning closer now, smiling and talking like no one else in the world existed. It was honestly too sweet to interrupt.

With a defeated sigh, Phainon slumped in his seat. "Fine, fine. But I’m teasing both of them later."

Castorice chuckled. "Only if you want Mydei to strangle you."

Phainon snickered. "Worth it."

With that, the two of them exited the café, sneaking off down the sidewalk like mischievous partners-in-crime, already planning how they would tease you both the next time you met.

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colorlessjay · 2 months ago

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if cas was a uni professor what do you think he would teach? theology seems too obvious.

what about philosophy and he uses his and tfw’s collective fuck-ups as examples

Now see, you're thinking about him as a professor thematically to him being an Angel

I think he would teach Quantum Mechanics

Hear me out:

Castiel is a biblical ancient being. He has knowledge beyond compare, but he doesn't know jack shit about the human condition. He just started learning about the relations of religion on a human level. He doesn't know enough to teach philosophy without it being synical in nature, or getting upset because Castiel is a creature of Objectivity

You know what he CAN teach that uses facts, logic, and concrete reasoning that can evolve in logical leaps? Math. Science. Atoms. Electrons. Space.

And he WILL be weird about it. I want him to get lost in the sauce of his own lectures to the point where he ends up 10x more disheveled and crazed than when he started.

His class WILL be difficult, not because Castiel can't explain it well, but because he drops so much knowledge onto you that one lecture will end with a 100-page Google doc of notes

Like he gets ANGRY about it. Angry because he is limited in how much he can share, and he has too much to share.

At one point in class, he slams his fists onto the table and yells, "Your feeble minds cannot quantify the amount of knowledge I am burdened with. I am cursed to only discuss not even a FRACTION of what I know. And if I were given the opportunity to share my mind, your eyes would burn out of your skulls, and I will once again be alone in a cage of my own creation."

Then someone raises their hand and asks, "Is this gonna be part of the finals?"

and Castiel immediately unruffles his feathers and answers as if he didn't just give these people psychological damage. "No, we'll only be covering up to chapter 3 for now. Have a good weekend."

#castiel #supernatural #spn

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sonotpattismith · 9 months ago

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BASED ON CAUSAL UGGH, your mind, is a wonder, please devastate us(please don’t(PLEASE DO)

-🏃‍♀️

casual. (satoru gojo x reader)

word count: 13.3k warnings: angst, smut, suguru being the goat, 18+ a/n: I didn't intend for this to get so long, but I just kept going :') Inspired by Casual by Chapell Roan, a song that has been haunting me for like two months lol. I can't wait to hear what you all think, and lmk if these longer fics are something you're into! ILY THANK YOU ALL FOR THE KIND MESSAGES AND SUPPORT- every comment and message means the world to me. 🫶🏻

“You’re not gonna fall in love with me, are ya’?”

In hindsight, it should have raised more red flags in your clouded mind. The tone of voice he held was playful though— as it always seemed to be. Laced with a deep baritone that bore witness to the two of you’s activities of the last few minutes, that question should have had you digging your heels right into the ground to brake yourself, but you only found yourself digging your heels further into his lower back. Gasping softly against his shoulder, all you could do was shake your head at what should have been a first and final warning. How could you deny him when his fingers were reaching parts of you you were positive he alone had just discovered for the first time? How could you ever deny Satoru Gojo?

No, god no, anyone but Satoru Gojo.

You silently wallowed in mental anguish as your professor announced your semester partner, just weeks prior to the incident. Glancing around despairingly, you didn’t even see the man in question in any of the cramped seats of the lecture hall. It sparked a small flicker of hope in you; maybe he transferred out of this course last minute but was still showing up in the roster— happens all the time, right? Sure enough though, in typical Gojo fashion as you’ve observed in the two or three other classes you’ve had with him, as well as what his stellar reputation has revealed, the white haired man burst through the doors of the lecture hall not even two seconds later.

Now, you weren’t one that allowed yourself room to be late often. You didn’t have the generational wealth tied to the Gojo name as insurance for your future— you had to work your ass off to scrape up enough for tuition every semester. Still, in the few times you had been running late, it was always mortifying; heads turning your way, the professor’s disapproving stare, and that awkward shuffling as you tried to find any open seat to hide in. Gojo didn’t seem to have an ounce of humility in his six-foot-something body though as he strides confidently into the room, smiling casually at the professor with a nod of his head as everyone turned to watch his theatrical entrance.

His charming personality and fluent family name, paired with the striking, wide cerulean eyes that were constantly hidden behind the dark tinted lenses of his round glasses— everything about Gojo was attention grabbing. You weren’t even sure he seeked it out, though something about his celebrity like waves to the people that called out fondly to him as he walked around campus told you he certainly didn’t mind it.

Even so, it wasn’t his borderline narcissistic behavior that put you off about this forced arrangement, but the fact that he was perpetually ten to fifteen minutes late. In every class you’ve had the pleasure of sharing with him, it’s seemingly been his golden rule. Typically, it wouldn’t be your problem. It wasn’t your grades or attendance that suffered, after all. Now though, if he didn’t care enough to leave wherever he was stumbling back from ten minutes earlier if it meant he’d make it to class on time for once— how much would he really care to contribute to a term project with you?

“What’d I miss?” You heard him mutter not so subtly at his friend, who always knew to save him a seat, as he flopped down beside her.

Sparing a sidelong glance in their direction to find the tired looking girl beside him, Shoko as you remembered from the roster call, nodding her chin toward you. Gojo looked up at you with a dumb expression on his face, and for a moment you caught a glimpse of those famous, sparkling eyes of his as his glasses slipped down his nose. You recalled hearing about his hypersensitivity to light that triggered his need for the constant eye protection.

Your friend, the utter gossip she was, somehow had this information armed and ready in her arsenal to throw at you when you’d backhandedly mentioned to her what an asshole he looked like, always wearing his sunglasses indoors. It made you grumble because, shit, now you looked like the asshole.

The memory slowly waned from your consciousness as he quickly pushed his frames back up his nose before lifting a hand to wave enthusiastically at you. A silent scoff left you at the fact that he seemed so overjoyed to hear about his new term partner, apparent in the shit-eating grin that seemed to take up his entire face. Offering a weak wave in return, you faced forward once again to listen to the rest of the instructions, a migraine already forming at the acceptance that you’d definitely be on your own this semester.

“Gojo, can you please quiet down?” You hushed him for the fourth time that afternoon in the middle of what was supposed to be the quiet, campus library.

He wouldn’t for the life of him sit still; shifting back and forth from the seat to the right of you to the one across from you, tapping his pen obnoxiously on his laptop, sighing dramatically as he crossed and uncrossed his freakishly long legs. It was driving you, as well as the other students in the vicinity, insane. “You’re acting like you’re writing a dissertation— we’re just researching topics.”

Another one of his Oscar-worthy, theatrical sighs slipped past his lips and dissipated into a frustrated groan. Slamming his laptop shut, he looked up at you like a child who was told to get into the shower after he’d just got done perfectly muddying himself up. You stared back blankly at him.

You had never had the chance to observe him so closely. Now that you were though, despite the deep seeds of irritation he was rooting inside of you, you could understand why everyone on campus was so smitten by him. His wispy, white hair splayed messily across his forehead and partly into his concealed eyes, appearing just rustled enough to tell you he didn’t style it, but fluffy enough to tell you he definitely took the time to at least attack it haphazardly with a blow dryer. He always dressed nicely though— nicer than any of the other boys you saw hanging around campus anyway. Still, his style was laidback, casual, cool. You almost rolled your eyes at yourself, recognizing that you were beginning to sound like your best friend, who insisted Gojo was the crème de la crème of eligible bachelors.

“Do you have ants in your fucking pants or something? What is your—”

“All the tuition these people charge, and they can’t afford some curtains?” He cut you off with an exasperated gasp and shoved his head into his hands.

You opened your mouth to tell him off once again for speaking so obnoxiously loud in the library, but the scolding lecture caught in your throat upon seeing the way the sun was shining right in his face from the large windows. Watching his fingers crawl under his glasses to rub aggravatedly at his eyes, a pang of guilt hit your chest for not having realized the cause of his restlessness sooner.

“Oh, um…” Your voice trailed off as you looked around the library for a dimmer area, but it seemed every corner was shrouded in sunlight. Tapping your fingernails anxiously against your laptop, you weighed your options. You’d regret this later.

“Thank god!” Gojo exclaimed as he quickly moved through your small dorm, climbing up onto the bed to draw the curtains over the offending window. Your lips threatened to twitch up into an amused smile, but it stopped as you watched him flop back down way too comfortably on your twin bed and rub at his temples.

“Do you want something for headaches? Um… I should have something in here…” You rambled while rummaging through the small medicine bin you had in the cabinet of your kitchenette. “Here.”

Finally spotting the bottle of migraine relief, you popped it open and fished two pills out. One of your partner’s eyes popped open to find you standing before him with your hand outstretched in offering. He took in your apprehensive stance with a concealed smile; way you shifted from one foot to the other as he stared back at you, lips pursing unsuredly with eyes that wanted to be anywhere but his.

Cute.

Sitting up and leaning forward, Gojo dipped his head down to scoop up the pills into his mouth, plush lips running softly over your sensitive palms. Your eyes widened a bit at his clear lack of understanding of personal space or normal human interactional rules in general. A gasp threatened to spill from your lips when you felt his teeth graze your skin before he finally threw his head back to swallow the pills. He flashed you a dazzling smile.

“Thanks, pretty girl.”

You chose, for your own sanity, to ignore that pet name. Shaking your head, you wiped your hand on your sweater before moving to grab your laptop from your bag. Weighing your seat options, you almost opted to sit on your desk chair just so you’d have space from the overly-comfortable man on your bed. You sighed before sitting at the edge of the bed and cast a sidelong glance at the way he remained lounged back, propping his head on his hands so he could see your screen.

“Do you mind taking your shoes off if you’re going to lay in my bed?” You pleaded, a shiver running down your spine at the thought of whatever he may be tracking into your sheets.

He revealed an amused smile, but complied anyway, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge to kick his shoes off. Leaning back on his hands, he tilted his head at you. The innocent motion had your chest swirling with a gut feeling that maybe these people that followed him around all the time were onto something. Quickly turning your attention back to the pathetic list of topics you two had come up with thus far, you bit your bottom lip.

“Any more requests for me, princess?”

“Yeah, how about you actually help me pick a topic now instead of just sitting there?”

“Geez, lighten up a little. Been a while since someone dicked you down or what—”

A sharp slap across his cheek didn’t allow him to finish that sentence. His head swung to the side, glasses almost slipping off of his stunned face. You gasped quietly, your hand shooting up to cover your mouth guiltily. With bated breath, you watched as he brought a hand up to hold his red cheek, his white lashes fluttering as he blinked rapidly.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I—”

“Nah,” Gojo chuckled breathlessly (and a little awkwardly), moving to adjust the frames properly on his face. He flicked his hair from his eyes, looking at you with a sheepish grin. “I deserved that one. My friend is always telling me I needa’ tone it down, so…”

You sighed, mortified by your abrupt actions. Slumping your shoulders, you set your laptop aside as you buried your face into your hands. He was right, at least about your being so high strung (and about the dick part, but that was beside the point). There was always this impossible expectation that you set for yourself— you always had to outdo yourself— your very own, never ending competition. Still, with all the courses you were bending over backwards in to assure your grades stayed high enough to maintain your scholarship, as well as the ass-crack-of-dawn hours you crammed in at work before your classes so you could cover room and board, you didn’t feel like you had a chance to breathe.

“No, no,” You insisted, sparing a mortified glance at the stinging handprint left on his pale cheek. “I mean, yeah, you sounded like a total prick, but I still shouldn’t have hit you.”

“Ehh, who said I don’t like getting smacked around every once and a while?” He quipped teasingly before his smile faltered, and he leaned back just a hair and raised his hands in front of him. “That was a joke— please don’t hit me again.”

For the first time since being paired with this idiot, you actually laughed. It shook your shoulders, it lit up your face— you were a completely different person. Gojo smiled softly at this, nudging you with his shoulder. It was as if he could see the weight being lifted off of your shoulders, even if just for a second. Looking up from your lap, you noted how close he was to you, and how intensely his glittering eyes were boring into you, even behind his tinted frames. His brow quirked up upon seeing the oh-so-obvious signs that your thoughts had also drifted from the research topic you two were supposed to be picking.

“At the risk of getting slapped again— are we about to kiss right now?”

You flushed at his teasing tone, but leaned forward to meet him in the middle nonetheless. He grunted as your lips met his, and, with the newfound permission you’d granted him, Gojo took the reins from there. Grasping your cheek firmly in one hand, he allowed the other to roam down to your waist, where his eager fingers pulled you in closer to him. An embarrassing gasp slipped past your lips as you tumbled into his lap, but he drank it up, not allowing you any room to catch your breath.

“Ohhh…” He rasped desperately upon hearing the little noises you made for him. “I could take such good care of you, hmm?”

Your face and neck were impossibly red at his lewd words, but that heat was traveling right down south and rendering your basic comprehension skills utterly useless. Panting softly, you looked into his blown out, dazed eyes and challenging smirk. You weren’t making it out of this one unscathed.

How did you end up pressed against the wall of your dorm room, your haphazardly placed polaroid pictures falling unceremoniously to the floor with every writhe of your hips? Right— Satoru Gojo looked at you with those magical, cerulean eyes and promised he could definitely help you unwind. And unwinding you were, with your thighs thrown over his surprisingly sturdy shoulders as he kneeled below you and showed you that his mouth could do alot more than talk endless shit.

Your jaw fell slack as his fingers dug into your hips, pulling your core against his face like he’d never eat again. Had you not currently been floating through another astral realm at the moment, you would have been embarrassed at the sloppy, squelching noises emitting from both your sex and his expert tongue.

“Gojo!” You gasped, reaching down to pull at the shoulder of his shirt, desperate for anything to ground you.

He groaned, and you thought you heard him mumble something against you, but the sound of your blood coursing in your ears deafened you. He pinched your thigh before pulling away for a millisecond to look up at you. Lord, you could have fallen apart at the sight. His glasses were pushed up onto his head, his soft tufts of snowy hair caught within the frames and giving you full access to view his face— the one you had never noticed was so delicately beautiful.

The sight of his bare eyes was almost intimidating— no, scratch that— it was definitely intimidating. No man should ever look that pretty with your slick coating his face so grotesquely.

“Satoru.” He insisted, his wide-eyed gaze demanding attention. You gaped down at him, making his fingers squeeze the fat of your thighs harshly once again. “Say it.”

As he dove back in, your mouth trembled open to try his name on your lips, but you were cut off by his obnoxiously loud and peppy ringtone. Grunting in aggravation, he didn’t pull away from you as he aimlessly dug in his back pocket for his phone. Casting a sidelong glance at the screen as his tongue continued to ravish you, his brows furrowed.

“Sorry, pretty girl, one sec’.” And in an instant he was swiping to answer the call, pressing his phone to his ear and his thumb to your clit.

Your hand shot up to conceal the stranglehold gasp that ripped from you as he began drawing lazy circles against your bundle of nerves. Gojo hummed along to whoever was on the other line before chuckling in disbelief.

“Again? This kid—” He shook his head, but there was an amused grin on his face. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

Tossing his phone carelessly onto the carpeted floor, Satoru looked up at you determinedly. With a cock of his pretty head, he flashed you a charming smile.

“We’re gonna have to make this quick, pretty girl.”

If Satoru Gojo was anything, you were quickly learning, it was a man of his word, because not only three minutes later he had you tossing the glasses off his head and gripping at the roots of his hair until you were sure it’d come off in clumps between your trembling fingers. His hand reached up to shove his fingers into your mouth in a last ditch attempt to quiet your pitchy whines before you got a noise complaint, though you could swear in the midst of your haze you felt him laugh against you.

Relief came flooding over your system, working its way down each of your tense muscles and even washing away that ever present sting in the back of your head that always said there was something you should be worrying about. All you could worry about this second though was the way Satoru cleaned you eagerly with his majestic tongue, pressing longing kisses against your trembling thighs and hips as he slowly set you back down on the ground.

The ever surprising man before you pressed one last, lingering and bruising kiss to your lips before smoothing your hair down cheekily and shaking his glasses back down to his face. You could only watch breathlessly as he shoved his shoes back on and gathered his things. He wasn’t very subtle in the way he reached down to adjust his erection through his pants, but he was headed for the door nonetheless.

“Wait,” you stammered out, stumbling back into your panties that had been thrown off into the corner of the room. “W-What about you?”

His head tilted back to look at you amusedly. Upon catching another glimpse of your reddened face and blown out eyes, Satoru couldn’t help himself as he stepped back and gave you another kiss.

“Relax, I’ve got all semester to cash in, don’t I?” He quipped with a wink, fingers coming up to pinch your flushed cheek. His words sank into your subconscious, and you couldn’t tell if they excited or scared you. “Besides, you needed it more than I did.”

“What about our research topic?” You hopped toward the door to shout with your head poking outside.

He swiveled around to face you as he continued walking down the hall of your dorm.

“Damn, it’s gonna take a lot more to loosen you up, huh?” His teasing smirk only served to further fluster you, and he turned his back to you once again. “I’ll text you— relax!”

Little did Satoru Gojo know you didn’t think you could ever relax in his presence again. He was unlike the picture you had painted in your head of him. Sure, he was still loud, obnoxious, out of touch in certain things, but he also displayed a side that was understanding, perceptive— and generous.

You thought your best friend would combust when you urged her to come by your dorm to recount the events of the day. She wanted details— mind bogglingly specific details to compare against the mental image she’d created for the man and placed on the altar of her psyche. The reason you really wanted her over, was to get a second opinion on his abrupt departure following the best head you’d ever received in your life— not that you had received much by way of comparison.

She rolled her eyes at your attempt to find a negative here, reminding you how affluent his family was, and that he likely was always getting called back home for matters too rich for our understanding. It gnawed at you though, and you remained unconvinced as you trudged through your week.

Continuing to surprise you, Sataoru did text you that night. You figured he’d send an article he’d read over haphazardly before deciding it was good enough for you to make a final decision on and sending it your way. You received a document with an actual research proposal though— typed, formal, neat, and actually viable enough to commit an entire term project to. Relief flooded you at the prospect that maybe this semester wouldn’t be as miserable as you assumed it would be.

Still, he made no mention of what had transpired between you two that day. Not that you figured he would, but you still couldn’t help the pang of disappointment that struck you. You were getting ahead of yourself. After all, he wasn’t the only attractive man with good tongue game, right? No need to go falling head over heels.

Your nerves leading up to your shared physics class the following week had you in shambles though. Would he pretend like nothing happened? Or worse, would he make it super obvious that something did happen? As the anxiety swirled in your mind, you cursed yourself for not using your time in university to become better versed in hookup culture, because god, you felt pathetic.

When Satoru strolled into class at the usual fifteen minutes past start time that he’d apparently set for himself, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, facing the professor with an intensity as if his lecture on quantum mechanics was the most riveting topic you’d yet to encounter. Just as usual though, he strolled right up to his seat beside Shoko. From your forced attention on your professor, you missed the way he regarded you with a sidelong glance, waiting for your acknowlegement, but none came.

Just as you thought you had escaped the interaction unscathed, bounding out of the classroom after collecting your things— fate revealed other plans for you. A heavy arm draped across your shoulders as you walked down the hallway, determined to get a strong coffee that could keep you up for the remainder of your two classes. You didn’t have to look to know who it was, the scent of his subtle yet somehow still expensive smelling cologne was a dead giveaway.

“Weeeell?” Satoru drawled out, leaning his head down with a tilt and smiling mischevieously as you. You rose a brow at him, determined to keep your cool as you continued your trek into the campus cafe. He let out a disappointed puff at your resolve. “I didn’t hear back from you about the research proposal. Figured you’d be all over that shit.”

You finally tore your gaze away from the menu above you to peer at him.

“Yeah, it was really good actually, Gojo.” You offered the hesitant praise. Leaning forward, you gave your order to the awaiting barista before you.

“You sound shocked. Thought I’d disappoint?” He quipped. You blinked as he nonchalantly pulled a heavy looking, black card from his wallet and swiped it for your coffee. Crossing his arms and leaning against the counter, he smiled expectantly down at you. “And I thought I told you my name was Satoru.”

Your face flushed at the thought of his reminder, thinking of how he was right between your legs when he demanded the name from your lips.

“Right, well, Satoru,” You emphasized, grabbing your cappuccino from the barista with a kind smile. “Color me surprised— I thought you’d be a dumbass. And thank you for the coffee, by the way.”

“Anything for my favorite, stuck up little term partner.” He gushed, pinching your cheek. You began walking toward the exit, and he followed after you. “Anyway, same time, same place?”

Almost choking on the sip of your coffee you’d taken, you stared up at him with wide eyes. God, he just couldn’t help himself, he thought with a knowing smile. It was always so easy to rile you up.

“To work on our first draft?” He finally put you out of your misery.

“Right,” You breathed, looking forward to make your way to your next class. “Yeah, I’ll see you later.”

Despite your nerves, the research session with Satoru had been going surprisingly well. Much to your relief, he sat criss crossed on the floor beside your bed, typing lazily at his keyboard with surprising resolve. As the minutes ticked on though, you could practically sense him growing more and more restless.

In the span of fifteen minutes, he had shifted from his criss cross position to flop lazily down onto his stomach, checked his phone six times, and was now pacing around your small room with his laptop clutched in one arm in front of him. You considered yourself fairly level headed, but shit— he was making you anxious now. Before you could reprimand his distracting behavior, he slammed his laptop shut with a huff.

Looking around your kitchenette, he tossed his laptop onto your bed (way too casually for a device that had to be worth two months of your room and board) and began rummaging through your cabinets.

“Satoru—” You grumbled with pink cheeks as he scrunched his face disapprovingly at your empty shelves.

“Got anything sweet in here?” He questioned, shoving his head into your fridge. “Besides you, of course.”

“No… but if you sit down and focus like you were twenty minutes ago, we could finish, and then you could go and eat your heart out.” You suggested with a mocking smile.

He blew a raspberry in your direction, crossing his arms over the open refrigerator door and looking at you despairingly.

“C’mon, it’ll help me focus.”

The sincerity in his frankly pathetic words was almost endearing, and you found yourself melting a bit at his soft pout. You sighed. Satoru smiled triumphantly as you moved to squat down and dig into your bottom drawer, pulling out a small bin of various candies.

“You owe me.” You laughed softly as he immediately snatched up the box of strawberry flavored pocky that had always been your favorite. He glanced up at you, the pink stick still hanging from his lips as he continued rummaging through your selection with determinedly furrowed brows. “You’re digging into my emergency PMS supply. So, I better see some Einstein level shit coming out of you after this.”

“Sure fire method— never failed me before. Try it.” In an instant, he was shoving the other end of his pocky stick toward your face, awaiting on the other side of it with a devilish glint in his striking eyes.

Your movements faltered for a moment, and you blinked back at him with a quickening heart. The startled expression on your face only made his lips curl up into a smirk around the sweet, pink stick. Hesitantly, you leaned forward and sunk your teeth into the other end of the pocky. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes that told you you had fallen right into his trap. As he carefully inched forward, you could feel the cool breath he was slowly releasing from his nose fan out against your flushed face.

Satoru could still see it— the tenseness in your shoulders, the apprehension swirling in your mind, the weight on your chest— and he just craved to be any sort of release for you. Maybe it was your subtle, caring nature that you hid under all that bold mouthed bravado, the little pieces of it that creeped out through your wide eyes. He wanted to dig, find his way to the bottom of it, and let it out so he may see all the beautiful edges and intricacies of it.

Your hand twitched up beside you, but it seemed your anxious mind was working against whatever desires were hiding in the chasm of your mind, and you retracted. He was too fast for you though— too perceptive— and he quickly reached out to grab your hand and hold it mid-air, inviting you to finish whatever motion your subconscious had started. Your lashes fluttered up at him as you reached up to pull his glasses from his face, and he couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

Satoru’s teeth snapped the candied stick between you two, spitting it out haphazardly and crashing against your lips to chase the lingering strawberry cream taste there instead. You hummed in surprise as he ripped the bin from your arms and set it uncoordinatedly on your bedside table before grabbing your face in his large hands.

Suddenly, you weren’t concerned about what it meant or what could possibly be going through his head, because he was hovering over you with such ease that he may have convinced you he was born to do just that. Satoru was whispering sweetly into your ear, flooding out all concerns that lay beyond your dorm room with saccharine promises of I’ll take care of you and that you just needed to relax for me.

And you did, so much so that you weren’t sure when you’d blinked and suddenly lay bare underneath of him, his fingers working into you in a frenzied haze all while his eyes held you captive. You could hear yourself crying out for him, the name he so desperately wanted to hear last time falling from your lips like a prayer onto his ears. Satoru smiled at you.

He smiled, and for a moment you found yourself dumbstruck by the thought that his mind had been just as consumed by you the past week, because none of the other fumbling college boys you’d opened your legs for had ever tended to you with such keen precision. Of all the beds you’d fallen into in the past, none had smiled at you so sweetly as though they wished to pour their soul into you as opposed to just their dick.

But maybe Satoru Gojo simply had that way about him. You pondered, as he rolled a condom onto his intimidating length and stared down at you as if thoroughly pleased with his work, that he protected those eyes because unlike you, he hadn’t the ability to hide his soul like you had grown so expert at. The thought raced down your chest, while he pushed into you with a soothing hand on your inner thigh, that his eyes told a similar story to all the girls that ended up sprawled vulnerably underneath him.

Still, as his hips finally met yours with a slack jaw, and his lips slowly twisted up into a satiated smile— as his forehead braced against yours with that knowing glint in his blown out eyes— as he murmured,

“You’re not gonna fall in love with me, are ya’?”

—you couldn’t help but feel as though you were the only one.

In your lust filled stupor, because Satoru was so carnal in the way he rolled his hips into you, the implications of his words failed to penetrate. The only thing on your mind was the manner in which his lips brushed against yours fervently with every merge of his body into yours, his pitched whines in the back of his throat, and how his hand grasped yours from where it twisted desperately into the sheets to bring it up to his hair, inviting you to pull on him instead to ground yourself.

So, you shook your head at his question and squeezed your thighs around his slim waist— anything if it meant he wouldn’t cease his firm grasp on your jaw as he pleaded for you to just say his name again for him. You sounded it out so beautifully and flush against his ear, after all.

It wasn’t until after his trembling climax, as his perspiring body slumped against you, the both of you squeezed into your twin sized bed with his head resting against your chest, that his words registered. His silken hair tickled your chin, and you reached out to brush it back gently, not missing the way his chest reverberated against yours with a contented hum at the sensation. Satoru was still inside you when you realized that you’d allowed your fantasies to drift too far.

Despite his question that told you you should have been packing all those thoughts up and tossing them out, like, yesterday, he stayed just as he was for some time, allowing you to card your fingers through his hair with contented, lulled eyes as he softened against your walls. For a moment, you thought he’d fallen asleep.

“Satoru?” You called faintly, needing to get out from underneath him before your aching desire to allow him such comfort against you pulled you any further into your delusions. He hummed in question but didn’t look up. You chewed on your bottom lip. “Do… do you wanna keep working on the draft?”

He was still for just a beat longer before pulling himself up on his elbows to look at you incredulously. How quickly you realized that having him against your chest was better than staring head on into those troublesome eyes. The man scoffed with a small smile.

“Was my stroke game that bad that you’re still thinking about that damn paper?”

His jokingly offended tone made you flush furiously, looking instead at the cream walls of your dorm. He huffed out a chuckle, carefully pulling out of you with a soft groan as he moved to squeeze into the spot beside you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so preoccupied in my life. What sign are you? Are you a Virgo? I bet you’re a Virgo.” He rambled as he propped his head up on his hand to look down at you inquisitively. His casual banter following the mind-blowing climaxes he’d just pulled from you threw you off. In the midst of your surprise, you realized he was actually expecting an answer.

“I don’t… even actually remember.” You mumbled as you racked your brain. In truth, though you always found it nice how the common ground conversation of zodiac signs seemed to bring people together in curious ways, you never kept up with it yourself. Always claiming you’d read more into it, you never gave yourself the chance to— ever preoccupied with other things.

“You don’t—” Satoru gaped down at you as if you’d just told him you killed his childhood pet. In an instant, he was reaching over you and hanging off the side of his bed to grab his phone from his discarded jeans. “How do you not know your own sign?”

“I-I don’t know, it’s not that big a—”

“When’s your birthday?” He insisted as he finally returned to his cramped spot beside you. Seemingly irritated by the lack of space, he crammed his arm under your head and crooked his elbow around your neck, typing at his phone that was now hovering over the both of you. When you didn’t answer, he glanced down at where you laid pressed up against his chest. “C‘mon, this birth chart isn’t gonna fill itself out.”

Truthfully, his casual banter only served to fluster you more, but you couldn’t help but be amused by his insistence on reading every single one of the alignments in your chart, humming along about how yeah, that sounds like you despite his only really knowing you for a few weeks. You told yourself you would snap out of it, but maybe it could be after you finished laughing along with every assumption he would pull out of his ass about you based solely on what he was reading on your chart.

Seriously, you told yourself as you two got up to get dressed. You’d get over it as soon as you got back from the lunch he insisted you two go get, whining incessantly about how starving he was and that he couldn’t possibly be expected to work under these conditions.

You’d get over it, you insisted as he scoffed at your attempt to hand him some cash to cover your portion of the bill.

You’d get over it, you thought as he absentmindedly drummed his fingers along your knee while he tried his hardest to focus his scattered attention on the draft.

You’d get over it, you pleaded with yourself when he stumbled into class the following week and, before climbing up to his seat beside his friend, set a small bag down on your desk.

You’d get over it, you were starting to doubt yourself as you peeked into the bag to find a jumbo box of strawberry pocky to replace the stash he’d depleted that day as you two worked together.

As the term dragged on, and you and Satoru fell into a subtle ebb and flow of exasperated banter that would drift into teasing coos that he knew what you needed. A cycle of bruising kisses and confusing intimacy that would only be further drilled in by the playful wit and glittering laugh that taunted you with the notion that, no— you couldn’t get over it.

“I’m so screwed.” You groaned despairingly as your friend tapped away at her laptop beside you in the library. It was a place you didn’t frequent as often since the last time you’d left it with Satoru.

“No, you’re just too much of a wimp,” She emphasized with a curt glare shot your way. A small smile fell onto her lips at the way you seemed to shrink into your chair. “To ask him what’s going on between you two.”

“Because he wants something casual!” You gasped out in exasperation, blushing when fellow students shot pointed glares in your direction. Leaning in closer to her, you lowered your voice into a hushed whisper. “Do you not remember the don’t fall in love with me debacle?”

“He did not say it like that.” She deadpanned before shutting her laptop to face you. “Besides, that was like six fucks and five dates ago.”

“They weren’t dates.” You emphasized, frustrated with the way that this had to be the third time you’d clarified it to her. “We were just—”

“Going out for lunch? Dinner?”

“Just lunch…” Despite your flushed cheeks, you nodded along. It didn’t really make a difference you supposed, but it did send your curiosity spiraling the way Satoru was always gone by three, throwing out casual excuses about needing to be somewhere.

“That he always pays for?”

“Well—”

“Just like all the coffees and sweets he brings you before he fucks you stupid in that tiny ass dorm of yours everytime he sees you?”

“Will you stop being so gross?” You begged with a violent whisper, gathering your things as she got up to leave. Your head sunk down into your chest with the hope that your hair would cover your burning cheeks as you followed her out the building.

“You can be as uptight as you want about it, but the dude likes you.” She defended with raised hands.

It was starting to become a repetitive conversation, one that never ended well for your endless fantasies that maybe Satoru saw you as something more than just a friend he occasionally screwed. Maybe it was best that you stopped asking her, because you got the feeling she was trying to live vicariously through you to fulfill that aching curiosity she had about whether all the rumors about him were true.

As she continued to drone on about how you needed to tell him to shit or get off the pot and that he can’t have his cake and eat it too, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. That pathetic little spark of excitement lit up in your stomach upon checking the screen.

Satoru: Can you please please please send me a picture of you?

Your brows furrowed, cheeks flushing at the thought of what kind of picture he could possibly want from you. He was so good at leaving you grasping for straws, going days without hearing from him just to receive some outlandish message or a demand to meet him somewhere for lunch because how am I supposed to eat by myself and Suguru is still in class and says I’m too clingy. It should’ve been an Olympic sport— the way he knew just how much attention to give you to keep your mind reeling with possibilities.

“Oh my god, opps alert.” Your friend suddenly announced, and you quickly pulled your phone to your chest, thinking she was referring to the message you had now been stupidly staring at for way too long. Your suspicions were proven wrong when you heard an overly-enthusiastic call of your name, and you looked up to find the man himself jogging toward you with a wide grin and eager wave.

“Did you get my text? You ignoring me?” Satoru whined before offering an abrupt greeting to your friend, who was holding back a knowing smile behind her phone that she busied herself with.

“You texted me two minutes ago, Satoru.” Your exasperated tone was only shrugged off with a subtle pfft as he whipped his phone out and threw an arm over your shoulder.

“Smile!” Faster than you could keep up with, he leaned in to press a sloppy kiss on your cheek. You heard the distinct click of his phone camera shuttering a few times before he pulled away from you with an accomplished smile.

“What—”

“My mom keeps sending me articles about how to come out to your parents.” Satoru explained nonchalantly as his thumbs fluttered across his screen. You let out a cough of surprise when your spit seemed to lodge traitorously in the back of your throat. Looking up with a sigh, he rolled his head around to glance at your friend exasperatedly. “She gave Suguru and I pride pins last time we went by for dinner. I mean, we thought it was funny at first, but it’s getting a little awkward—”

“Satoru, what does this have to do with me?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his rambling, swatting at your friend discreetly as she pointed to the aforementioned pride pin that was attached to his bag with a bewildered expression. Moving to walk between you two, he rolled his eyes dramatically as if it was your fault that you couldn’t keep up with his tangential speech pattern.

“If she thinks you’re my girlfriend, she’ll stop with all the ‘we love you no matter what, Toru’ speeches every time I see her— god, keep up.”

Behind his back, you shot your friend a wide eyed expression that she was already reciprocating, but her’s bore an excited smirk as she gave you a thumbs up.

“Hey, Gojo, you free Saturday?” Her abrupt question confused you, but you slowly caught on to what was going on on Saturday that would require his attention. You desperately shook your head at her.

“I can be persuaded to be free on Saturday.”

“Aw, well, I’m throwing a little birthday party for someone here on Saturday, and you should—”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’m sure Satoru has—”

“Birthday party?” He shouted dramatically, whipping his head around to look down at you in offense. “You weren’t gonna invite me to your birthday party?”

“You really don’t have to—” For what seemed like the millionth time, you were interrupted. Maybe it was for the best though, because you could feel your face heating up with sheer embarrassment as you stammered out any excuse possible.

“Well now I’m going just to spite you.” Satoru quipped with finality before turning to your friend who looked entirely too pleased with herself. With his attention away from you, you took the opportunity to throw venom dripped daggers from your eyes right into her. “Can I bring a friend?”

“We could squeeze him in.” She agreed, already knowing, like everyone else on campus, he was referring to the tall, long-haired man that always seemed to be attached to Satoru’s hip at all times possible. It was no wonder his mom was beginning to ask questions, given their relationship used to be the speculation of countless rumors around school as well.

You had met Suguru in passing a few times when catching up with your partner between classes, but you didn’t know him too well. Despite your curiosity about the dynamic he held with his tight-knit friends, you were a little grateful you’d never hung out with both of them. That level of attractiveness could only be handled one at a time as far as you were concerned. Those two were increasingly intimidating when side by side. Even worse, they seemed to feed right off of each other’s energy.

“Then I’ll see you when you’re a year older, pretty girl.”

You could have skinned your dear friend alive in the days leading up to your birthday party. As each day passed, the knot in your stomach grew larger and twisted more erratically than it had previously. It’s not like you were uncomfortable around Satoru. In fact, you had grown quite familiar and warmed to his overbearing, hyperactive, and clingy nature over the past two months. The thought of you asking him to come to your birthday party made you feel like you were acting like a clingy girlfriend. The notion made you want to hurl, even if you weren’t the one that asked.

Still, the time grew closer and closer, and you were now trying not to watch the door as you laughed over the booming music blasting through whoever’s dorm room it was that your friend deemed was big enough to host in. You must have gone into the bathroom to check yourself in the mirror at least three times, and you had only been there for an hour. Sure enough, as you nodded to yourself and turned the light off for the fourth time, your smokey makeup was still perfectly intact, and your boobs weren’t popping embarrassingly out of the starry, navy dress you’d stolen from your friend’s closet.

As you made your way down the hall and into the crowded room, you couldn’t help but wonder who the fuck half these people were. You assumed most of the strangers were plus ones of the plus ones of the people you actually knew and invited there, but, then again, it wasn’t you who had planned it, so it was out of your hands. There were obnoxious whooping calls that grew closer and closer as you emerged, and you spotted the unmistakable yin and yang head’s of hair that towered over the mass of people before you.

A wave of nausea and uncertainty crashed over you, and you turned on your heel to hide in the bathroom, but Satoru was, once again, too fast for the likes of you.

“Birthday girl!” He shouted so loudly, he could be heard clearly over the music that practically vibrated the walls. Slowly turning back around in defeat, you watched as he easily pushed through shoulder after shoulder to reach you with a dumb smile. He surprised you when he pulled you up into a bone crushing hug, your legs dangling helplessly in the air for a moment before he set you down. His shielded eyes regarded you with a smirk, and he whistled lowly. “Old age suits you.”

You were grateful that the LED strip lights were the only things lighting the room, making your flush less noticeable as you smacked his chest with pursed lips.

“You didn’t have to come, you know.” You stood on your tiptoes to shout into his ear. Your small, fond smile gave you away though.

“Then how would I have given you your birthday gift on your birthday if I didn’t come to your birthday party, huh?” As he rambled nonsensically, his hand reached into his pocket to fish out a small, black box and held it up to you.

“Satoru,” You stammered at the thought that he had gone out of his way to buy you a gift, and, from the looks of it, jewelry nonetheless. Once again, a war was raging in your mind against the rational part of your mind that told you that this man wanted nothing serious with you, and the softer, more hopeful part that said hookups don’t buy each other jewelry. “You- you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“You kidding me?” He murmured, a bit softer than his previous tone as he opened the small box and carefully pulled the gold chain out. Your lips parted at the sight of the delicate charm hanging on the end of it. Noting the curiosity on your face as you twirled the symbol between your fingers, Satoru smiled. “It’s the constellation for your zodiac sign! So you don’t forget again.”

He stepped behind you to place the cool chain around your neck, but your eyes were stuck on the space he was just occupying. You wondered with bated breath if he could feel the racing of your pulse against his fingers as he ran his hands gently down your neck to scoop your hair over the chain after he’d secured the clasp. Your lashes fluttered as you looked up to meet the gaze of your friend who was not too far away, seemingly showing Suguru where the drinks were while watching the entire scene pan out. Her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip to suppress her unbridled excitement for you before she turned to continue speaking with the tall man beside her.

She had given you somewhat of a pep talk as you two got ready together before the party, telling you you had to have Satoru clarify things before you let yourself go any further into this situation. As you anxiously applied your makeup, you thought the likelihood of such a confrontation ending well for you was slim to none. Now though, as Satoru turned you to face him and gazed so sweetly down at the pendant splayed on your chest— a reminder that he remembered even the smallest moments you had assumed were mundane to him— you began to think that maybe looking for more wasn’t such a far fetched idea after all.

“Thank you, Satoru. Really.” You smiled genuinely up at him, toying with the charm between your fingers. He tutted nonchalantly, reaching out to ruffle your hair. “You’re… a lot sweeter than I thought you’d be, y’know?”

“Shuuucks, better quit sweet talkin’ me.” He teasingly gushed, leaning down till his lips brushed against your ear. “Gonna make me wanna give you your second gift early.”

A rushed heat quickly flooded down your core. His fingers traced down your arm with a feather-light touch before lacing together with your own. The warmth of his cheek brushed against yours as he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes. Satoru was taking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and the way your bottom lip tucked timidly between your teeth, and he let out a quiet groan.

“Just ten minutes— they won’t even know you’re gone.” Satoru insisted with a wavering voice as he began tugging you toward the bathroom.

The shame crept up in you, and you knew you should have stopped him— made sure for the sake of your own heart that this wasn’t all you’d ever be before you allowed him to eagerly slam the bathroom door behind you. That all-encompassing question haunted your hazed thoughts while Satoru chased desperate kisses down your neck, dragging his warm tongue over your collarbone and biting down carnally on the area where the charm he’d graced you with met your flesh. He sucked the pendant between his teeth, mumbling indiscernibly about how pretty my charm looks around your neck.

Your trembling fingers raced through the buttons of his shirt, pushing it open to explore the expanse of his chest as he tugged the hem of your dress up past your hips and hoisted you onto the sink. Despite the way your heart yearned so desperately for answers— for safety and solace from the push and pull you had subjected it to for two months— you could only choke out a gasp as he pulled your panties to the side. The feeling of your dripping heat against his greedy fingers had his body lurching forward, nearly sending you crashing into the mirror behind you as a breathless moan ripped from his chest.

So, no— you didn’t ask Satoru if your helpless ideas of real dates and titles and proud announces were lone— only haunting you, because as he curled his fingers into you and panted into your ear that my girl looks so beautiful like this, it was enough for your fizzling, mushed brain. So, you disregarded the fear in the back of your mind and worked to unbutton his jeans.

The ardent pep talk your friend had given you came from a place of love and concern, as even she knew you weren’t built for this kind of relationship. You worried too much, became preoccupied with the little things, your heart, while resilient your whole life as you worked your way to where you were now, was too fragile to allow Satoru Gojo to free reign to swing it open without the promise of ever staying. But you wanted him to stay, so desperately, you wanted those incandescent eyes to remain locked on you so keenly. You didn’t have the right words to plead with him, the only weapons in your comparably pathetic and timid arsenal were the heat between your legs and the hand you worked against the leaking swell of his cock in tandem with his palm’s wet smacks onto your center as he continued bullying your insides.

As he leaned his head onto your shoulder and rutted into your delicate hand, his string of cursed moans and whined praises made you forget that Satoru didn’t love you too.

“You’re so good to me, pretty girl— my perfect girl.” When he said things like that though, so sweetly with faux sincerity while coming undone all over your trembling thighs, you began to think that maybe he did.

You held onto that lighthearted, false sense of hope as he followed you out of the bathroom and stayed by your side that night. The bright smile on your glowing cheeks would have had anyone assuming you’d just met the love of your life, but the man trailing behind you as you took the shots that were thrust your way and refused any that were offered to him. He was entirely sober as he watched you with a wide, glittering smile. He hadn’t had a drop of liquor when he stood proudly beside you with that same smile as you blew the candles out on your heart-shaped cake, blissfully unaware of the fact that you wished for him with that winding breath, despite your delusional mind and heart that told you he was already yours.

“Gojo, c’mon, get in for a picture with your girlfriend!” Someone called out as the flame on the final candle was stamped out.

“Huh? Oh, no— we’re just friends!” Satoru’s playful tone rang out over the chatter of the crowd around you.

The smile on your face slowly faded, but the flashes of the camera still permeated the air as you felt him lean against you to smile for a picture nonetheless, unfazed by his screeching words that made the pendant around your neck seem suffocatingly heavy. You blinked down at the cake in front of you, watching yourself from the outside, slicing into the delicately crafted heart to begin mindlessly passing out to people. You didn’t notice that your hands were trembling, or the way your face seemed to burn with unshed tears until your friend’s fingers wrapped around your wrist gently.

“Come with me, I have to give you your gift.” Your friend lied with a bold face, concern swimming in her kind eyes as she regarded your shell-shocked demeanor. In truth, she wanted to grab the plastic knife from your hands and ram it into the chest of the man standing so obliviously beside you, laughing carelessly along with people surrounding you. You could only nod. Satoru’s hand slipped from your back as she dragged you away.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She muttered endlessly as a stream of stinging tears fell down your face as soon as the bathroom door shut. Her arms wrapped around your shoulders, but you were pushing against her, trying so desperately to pull yourself together. How could you be so pathetic? “I should have never said anything. I just thought he—”

“I know, so did I.” You whispered, somehow afraid he’d hear you from the bathroom over the blaring music and drunken crowd. With trembling fingers, you wiped furiously at the tears under your eyes. “God— he told me. He told me. I’m such a fucking idiot—”

“He’s a fucking idiot.” Your friend spat with verocity. In a furious haze, she began wiping the smeared mascara from under your eyes, muttering unintelligably under her breath before moving to rustle up your hair. “Listen to me. You are going to go back out there, and you are going to find the hottest man you can fucking find, and you are not going to breathe in that snow topped asshole’s direction for the rest of the night.”

“None of them are as hot as—”

“Well for tonight they fucking better be!” She exclaimed in exasperation as she smacked your ass encouragingly. “C’mon, I know it’s looking grave, but I think I saw at least like two or three solid sevens out there.”

Once you were sure the traces of your tears were undetectable, save for that wet glimmer in your irises that you couldn’t seem to shake, the two of you dispersed with determindely set faces. Maybe you were just pathetic, you began to think as you grazed over the selection of men before you, but none of them seemed to come close to—

“There you are!” Satoru bounded over to you, a slice of cake clutched in his hands. He held it out to you with a smile that indicated he had no idea the damage he’d just dealt. “I saved you a slice. It’s bad luck not to have a piece of cake on your birthday, you know.”

An angel in all senses of the word graced you then, because Lord knows you were about to give in once again to his casual smile and glittering eyes. Your friend took the paper plate from his hands, dropping it carelessly on the side table as she wrapped her arm around his elbow to pull him away.

“Gojo, come here. You have got to meet this dude, he looks just like you!” She excused with a fake smile, tugging harder as he looked back at you indecisively, but he eventually was dragged into the sea of people along with her.

Sighing in relief, you looked up at the popcorn ceiling with furrowed brows. You were determined now, if anything for the sake of your god-sent friend who had planned for you to have the perfect night, to at least attempt her fury-induced plan and find any viable man.

“You look like you need a drink, birthday girl.”

Your head instantly dropped back down, and you turned apprehensively to meet the gaze of the man before you. For a moment, you wondered if whatever higher being was out there was testing you, or maybe they were gracing you with possibly the most diabolical option you could ever dare to choose from in your bachelor line up. This would be too much, right?

“Geto.” You muttered in surprise, watching his near violet eyes regarding you curiously, a small and knowing smile gracing his calm features. He offered you a cup.

“Here, I mixed something up for you. Consider it a birthday gift. I was told at the last minute that this was a birthday party, so I didn’t bring you anything.”

You peered apprehensively into the plastic cup before glancing up at him with a raised brow. He tutted softly with a chuckle, bringing it up to take a swig himself before handing it back to you.

“I feel like I should be offended that you think I’d put something in your drink, but I suppose you can never be too careful.” Suguru shrugged, craning his neck around to look at the crowd of blubbering men you were surrounded by. With a playful smile, he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I mean, look at half these circus monkeys.”

A genuine laugh finally found its way past your lips, and he smiled brightly at the sound. Nudging your shoulder, he nodded for you to follow him. You looked around for that familiar head of white hair, letting out a relieved sigh to see your friend still had him busy. The man she had introduced him to was quite possibly more of a yapper than Satoru was— and that was saying something.

She peered over at you subtly, having to control the drop of her jaw upon seeing who you had chosen from the line up. You shot her a concerned look as if to ask— is this really fucked up of me? But you knew it was. She only offered you a thumbs up and mischievous smile that said this is perfect. You saw Satoru follow her gaze, and you quickly averted your eyes to take a seat next to Geto on the couch he’d settled on. The white-haired man’s brows furrowed a bit as he watched you smile up at his friend, but he was quickly being pulled back into the conversation with this dude who would not shut the fuck up for the life of him.

Conversation with Suguru— as he insisted you call him— wasn’t nearly as forced as you had prepared yourself for. In fact, you had almost actually forgotten about the just friends debacle. It began to come back to you though, as he inched closer and closer to you as the night drew on, and you were reminded of what you had sat down with him for. So, despite the unease growing in the pit of your stomach, you didn’t lean back when he draped his arm on the cusion behind you, leaning in to smile smoothly at you.

“You’re in that physics class with Satoru, aren’t you?” He asked with a conscious smirk, following your gaze as it flittered occasionally over to the man in question, who had been stealing cautious glances your way for the past hour, seemingly never getting the chance to go butt in as he so desperately wanted to.

Your mind seemed to fizzle at the mention of him, and you snapped your gaze back to Suguru abruptly.

“Um, yeah,” You murmured, glancing down at the now nearly empty cup in your hands. The alcohol was beginning to catch up to you. In fact, it had begun catching up to you almost thirty minutes ago, and you could feel your tongue beginning to slip with each word you tried to pronounce. “He’s… he’s my term partner.”

“That’s all he is, huh?” The man hummed, the loose bang hanging from his sensuous bun swaying as he dipped his head down, a daring glimmer in his violet eyes. Your brow querked at his comment. “I only mean it's a shame that Satoru can’t get his head out of his ass, is all, but that’s okay.”

Your breath hitched as his silky hair brushed against your cheek, and suddenly all your confidence about this little attempted comeback was flying out the window. His eyes drooped mischievously, glancing down at your parted lips as his hand creeped steadily onto your knee. Suguru was kind— so kind, and witty, and intelligent, and undeniably handsome, but all you could think about was Satoru.

“Suguru,” You stammered, suddenly feeling sick to your stomach. Whether it was due to the alcohol coursing through your veins, or the proximity of the man that wasn’t the one who had been plaguing your mind for the past two months— you couldn’t tell. “I don’t want—”

“I know you don’t.” He reassured quietly, not daring to come any closer to you. That mischievous smile was slowly creeping back into his plush lips. “I don’t either, but sometimes Satoru needs a little bit of a push. Do you understand?”

The realization hit you like a splash of ice water. All this time, as you thought you were the cunning one, fooling Suguru while hoping to play Satoru, but you were the one being played. You blinked once, then twice, processing the hand of cards he was placing directly onto your unsuspecting lap.

“I can already feel that idiot’s eyes on the back of my head.” The dark-haired man explained amusedly, twirling a strand of your hair between his black-painted fingers. From the outside, you two looked entirely chummy, leaned into one another with your comparably smaller figure hidden behind his broad shoulders. His dark lashes fluttered up as he grinned conivingly at you. Suddenly, the hand that was tangled into your hair traced over your shoulders and carefully picked up the zodiac pendant hanging from your neck.

From the crowded kitchen, Satoru had been watching the two of you with bated breath. He was trying desperately to focus on the droning conversation he was being forced into, but the closer his friend leaned in to you, and the brighter you smiled up at him, the more incandescent the ball of heat in his chest burned. The guy in front of him was calling his name, but Suguru’s hands had grown too comfortable as they drifted across your supple skin. As another man’s fingers came around to taint the pendant on your neck— the one he’d given to you— the one he’d just clasped on his tongue as he felt you clench around his fingers, something within him snapped.

Shoving past the lingering group of drunken students in the kitchen, Satoru was a sight to be seen as he grasped firmly on his best friend’s shoulder, twisting him to face him.

“Satoru!” Suguru greeted cheerfully, as if he didn’t still have his grimy hand way too high up your leg. To make matters worse, the arm that had since been draped around the cusion settled down around your shoulders. “We were just—”

“What the fuck? That’s my—”

“Your friend, right?”

Suguru’s words pierced into his stomach with a sickening twist. His jaw seemed unable to hold his mouth shut anymore as irritation flooded his system. What was he going to say? He had no excusable reason to be so upset. His eyes drifted from his smug friend over to you, taking in your alcohol flushed cheeks and bleary eyes. The casual position you took next to his friend suddenly made him that much more nauseous.

“You’re drunk.” Satoru gritted through his teeth, gently grabbing your wrist in a firm hold to pull you up. As you stumbled up, he shot his friend a warning glare over your shoulder, indicating that they’d definitely be discussing this later. Suguru’s wolfish grin only grew wider.

“What are you doing? I was—” You grunted in aggravation as he shouldered through person after person, to lead you out the door. Once out in the hallway, you twisted your hand from his grasp. “I was talking to him.”

“Yeah, real nice conversation you two were having while you were shit-faced, and he was practically fucking you on the couch.”

“Fuck you, Satoru!” You spat. Despite your biting words, he was grasping at your shoulders to lead you back to your dorm room that was down the hall.

“Fuck me?” He laughed dryly as he dug into your bag to get your key and swing the door open.

“Yeah, fuck you!” You followed him in, jabbing a pointed finger into his back. His shoulders rose dramatically before drifting down, as if trying to calm the storm brewing in his chest. He turned to face you with a clenched jaw. “You don’t get to just swoop in and ruin things for—”

“He’s my friend!”

“Yeah? Well apparently so am I!” The tears you had sucked back up just hours prior finally made their grand reappearance, welling up embarrassingly in your darkly lined eyes. With a trembling lip, you pushed at his chest haphazardly. All the angry words he had planned to unleash upon you about how fucked up it was that you were getting so friendly with Suguru of all people got caught in his throat, and he watched with deflating shoulders as you broke down. A twisting sting was working its way back into his own chest. “You said it yourself, we’re just friends. So, if you could please stop acting like you give a shit and making me run in circles trying to understand what’s going on here, that would be really fucking nice, Gojo.”

It was becoming unbearable to look at him as you tore yourself down so vulnerably before him. Turning away, you furiously struggled to yank a makeup wipe out of its infuriatingly tight container before haphazardly wiping at your face and eyes. He called your name softly, but you shook your head.

“I don’t— I can’t be in a relationship, okay?”

His words that you assumed were meant to comfort you only served to embarrass you further as you tossed the dirty wipe in the little bin, moving to rummage in your closet for a sleep shirt. Those striking eyes followed your every movement, watching the way you pulled the baggy shirt over your torso before unzipping your dress from underneath it— hiding from him.

“Yeah, I can see that. Thanks for clearing that up.” You growled in frustration as you tried desperately to reach the zipper at the top of the now suffocating dress.

“Let me help—”

“Don’t touch me.” The command shot viscerally from your trembling lips, halting his movements toward you altogether. Had you not been so thoroughly embarrassed, heart utterly ripped up on the floor alongside your bruised pride, you would have felt guilty for the pained expression that flooded his beautiful features. Ignoring him, you finally yanked the zipper down and stepped out of the dress that flooded around your feet. “Go home. I’m back in my dorm, and I’m by myself— just like you wanted.”

“Quit it, that’s not what I wanted, and you know that.”

“Do I know that? Because one day you’re telling me not to fall in love with you, and then you’re buying me lunch every week and remembering shit about me that I don’t even remember. You fucked me in the bathroom at my birthday party then told everyone we’re just friends, but god forbid I talk to someone else, right?” You were stepping closer to him with each charged indictment, traitorous tears of frustration slipping down your cheeks. There was a storm brewing behind his eyes, ready to snap with each jab you threw at him, because he knew you were right. “I don’t care what you have to tell yourself. I can’t do it to myself anymore. So, if you won’t cut me from the fucking ceiling then I’ll do it myself. I’m done.”

“I’ve got a fucking kid, okay?” Satoru yelled, throwing his hands out at his sides in exasperation. He couldn’t take it anymore. It felt as though you were reaching into his chest with those delicate little hands he’d come to love just to rub salt in the already harsh reality of his circumstances. “Two of ‘em. You ready to take that on too? Huh?”

Wide eyes stared back at him, unblinking as he panted angrily at you. The dumbstuck expression on your face only served to frustrate him further, knowing it would always come to this. It wouldn’t have been fair to you, he knew that. Just because it was a responsibility he had chosen to take on at his ripe age, didn’t mean it should be tossed upon someone else as well. Satoru didn’t have the luxury of tossing around his feelings flippantly, even if he let this one go too far.

Sighing defeatedly, he moved to sit on the edge of your bed as your mouth opened and closed, attempting to process all that he’d just dumped on you. He pulled the glasses off his face to rub at his eyes.

“They’re… they’re not mine. Not actually, anyway.” He explained quietly, staring down at his lap. “But they don’t have anyone else, so… I take care of ‘em.”

“What?” You finally breathed in disbelief. In all honesty though, it made perfect sense. It explained all his sudden disappearances, all the mysterious phone calls, and fashionably late entrances. How could a guy like Satoru Gojo be taking care of two kids though? “Why— I mean, how?”

He glanced up at your mind-boggled babbling.

“My family thoroughly fucked over their father back in the day. He lost a lot of money because of a shady business deal my dad talked him into. I know it wasn’t me, but… I just felt partly responsible, y’know? They’re my parents, sure, but I feel like their name haunts me. Like I’ve gotta live with all the shit they’ve done— like I’m just as complacent. When I found out their dad had left… I just couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do anything to help them.”

“Satoru…” You muttered in shock, slowly moving to sit beside him. It was incredible to you though, how he had managed to juggle everything all on his own while maintaining such presence and academic excellence at the university. “That’s… that’s a lot.”

“Yeah, no shit. The kids card isn’t exactly a chick magnet.” He tried to laugh to ease some of the tension that had filled the room, but it came out dry. His insides felt like mush.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I thought…” His hand came up to nervously scratch at his neck, and you realized you had never seen him caught off guard like this. Satoru was always so confident and collected. Now, as he spared you a sidelong glance, as if too embarrassed to look at you head on, he seemed so vulnerable. The humility shifted his features, made his gaze softer and his expression less intimidating. You watched him gulp apprehensively and slide his glasses back on, as if they would shield him somehow. “I thought you would just be something casual. I didn’t think I’d care so much. I’m sorry.”

He moved to get up, but your hand caught his wrist, holding his hand down to the bed.

“I think what you’re doing for those kids is amazing, Satoru.” You emphasized as your brows knit together furiously. Even behind his spacious lenses, you could see the way his eyes widened at your authoritative tone. He needed to understand it though— how utterly wrong you had been about him, and how wrong he was about himself. “What happened to them isn’t your fault, but you’re helping them because you’re a good person. It doesn’t matter what your last name is.”

For the first time since you’d met him, his neck began to flush, the blood racing up his cheeks and to his ears. He quickly looked back down at his lap. You smiled softly at the sight. It felt nice to not be on the receiving end of such humility for once. His fingers twitched under yours, and you realized you’d never let go of his hand.

“You deserve every bit of happiness that I know you bring to those kids. Stop punishing yourself for your last name. And if that’s the only reason we’re just friends then… I think that’s bullshit.”

His head shot up to meet your gaze with an alarming swiftness. The tips of his snowy hair swayed across his forehead as he shook his head.

“I can’t ask you to take that on too. You have enough on your plate without me adding to it.”

“You’re not asking me for anything. I’m offering to be there for you through it.” You leaned closer to him, lacing your fingers through his. His hand squeezed against yours appreciatively. With a soft smile, you nudged his shoulder gently. “C’mon, aren’t you the one who’s always telling me I need to loosen up. Live a little, dad.”

That familiar, cocky smile made its way back onto his plush lips, and he craned his neck around to peer at you in amusement.

“You into that sort of thing, pretty girl? Cause I so would’ve worked that angle forever ago if I knew.”

Tutting softly, you shoved at his face, trying to disguise the smile that couldn’t seem to stop growing infectiously across your cheeks. Your heart soared as he ran a thumb across your knuckles.

“Do you have a picture of them?” You asked softly, unsure if you were crossing a line.

His face seemed to light up in an excited grin though, and he nodded ardently, yanking his phone out of his pocket to scroll through his photos. Finally finding a suitable one, he eagerly shoved his phone into your face. You couldn’t help but laugh affectionately at his enthusiasm, pulling the phone back so you could inspect the photo before you.

The glaring, young boy in the photo looked as though he wished he was anywhere but standing beside the animated white haired man who towered over him with a wide smile that squinted his eyes as he held a peace sign out in front of him. The girl to the left of him appeared a bit older, and a hell of a lot more lively than her younger brother it seemed. She leaned politely into Satoru with her hands clasped behind her back and a kind smile gracing her young features. From the bits of the background you could make out, it looked like they were in some sort of ice cream parlor.

“He looks just like me, doesn’t he?” Satoru retorted with a theatrically dreamy sigh. Raising a brow at him, you smirked before handing him back his phone.

“Sure, when you get past that murderous look in his eyes, I’m sure he’s got your smile!”

“I’m raising a little serial killer, aren’t I?”

You giggled at his fearful tone, and his tense features settled into a fond smile. Reaching up hesitantly, he allowed you to pull the glasses off his face. His gaze fluttered over your face, leaning closer to you until his breath fanned over your face.

“You’re not really into Suguru, right?”

“That depends,” You whispered, concealing your tickled smile at his jealousy. “Are we still just friends?”

Satoru leaned forward until your back hit the bed with a soft bounce, grazing his hand around your neck to toy with your necklace.

“If you’ve got friends that can make love to you like I’m about to, we’re gonna have some problems, pretty girl.”

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w1w2 · 4 months ago

Text

Three Words, Eight Letters

Part 2 of A Game of Almosts

Karina x Fem!Reader feat. Winter

Word Count: ca. 7k

Synopsis: As Y/N begins to pull away, Karina is forced to confront the feelings she’s spent years running from. Karina must decide, stay silent or finally fight for what she’s always wanted.

Req by 🐻 anon

Notes: Happy Birthday Pookie Bear! Hope you’ll be the happiest bear in the world! Let me know what you think about this. I know it’s not perfect, but I tried my best.

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

That night, Y/N made another decision. It wasn’t a decision made in a single moment, not something driven by fleeting anger or the heat of their argument. It wasn’t impulsive or reckless or born out of the desire to make Karina jealous.

It was something inevitable, something that had been building inside her for far too long, something she should have done a long time ago.

She wasn’t going to play Karina’s game anymore.

She wasn’t going to keep waiting for breadcrumbs, for fleeting glances and almosts, for moments that never quite turned into anything real. She wasn’t going to keep reaching for someone who refused to meet her halfway, wasn’t going to let herself be pulled back into the same endless loop of tension and denial and longing that Karina had trapped her in.

She deserved more. So, she let go.

Not all at once, not with any dramatic declarations or explosive confrontations. It happened quietly.

A shift so subtle that at first, no one really noticed.

She started pulling away, little by little, slipping out of Karina’s orbit one careful step at a time. She stopped sitting next to Karina at lunch, choosing instead to settle beside Giselle or Ningning, laughing a little louder, acting a little lighter, as if she weren’t carrying the weight of a heartbreak that had never been given a name. She stopped waiting for Karina after class, no longer lingering by the lecture hall doors, no longer walking at Karina’s pace, no longer filling the spaces between them with easy conversation and shared silences. She stopped looking at Karina like she was the only person in the world, and instead, she let herself become closer to Winter.

It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t a grand rebellion, but Winter made it easy.

She didn’t make Y/N feel like she had to chase after her, didn’t make her second-guess every interaction, didn’t make her wonder if she was asking for too much just by wanting something real.

So, when Winter invited her to a music recital, Y/N said yes.

It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything, but then she was there, sitting beside Winter in the dimly lit auditorium, the soft glow of stage lights flickering against her skin, the distant hum of a piano filling the air.

Then Winter was leaning in, voice low, whispering something against the shell of Y/N’s ear, something that should have been casual, something that shouldn’t have made Y/N’s breath hitch, something that shouldn’t have sent the faintest shiver down her spine.

And when she felt the warmth of Winter’s breath against her skin, when she realized she wasn’t instinctively pulling away.

People noticed, and soon, the rumors started.

The whispers started before Karina ever saw it for herself.

At first, they were nothing more than background noise, the kind of idle campus gossip that always surrounded them, blending into the hum of everyday conversation, easy to ignore, easy to dismiss. But then, as the days passed, she began to hear it more often, the same names, Winter and Y/N, Y/N and Winter, uttered in hushed tones, spoken with curiosity, speculation, intrigue.

She told herself it was meaningless, she told herself it didn’t matter.

But the words had a way of sticking to her skin, embedding themselves beneath the surface, irritating like tiny splinters she couldn’t quite remove. And no matter how hard she tried to tune them out, to push them to the back of her mind, they followed her.

At first, she refused to look.

Because if she saw it with her own eyes, if she witnessed the way Y/N was beginning to slip away, then she would have to acknowledge it. She would have to accept that it was happening, that Y/N was laughing a little more freely these days, that Y/N was allowing someone else into the spaces that once belonged to Karina alone, that Y/N was learning how to exist outside of her reach.

Then, one afternoon, a single moment that knocked the air from Karina’s lungs before she even understood why.

She hadn’t been looking for Y/N. Hadn’t been searching for proof of what she had been so determined to ignore. She had been walking across campus, nodding along absently to whatever the person beside her was saying, her thoughts tangled in the usual mess of deadlines, family obligations, expectations she had no choice but to meet. She was preoccupied, distracted, until she wasn’t.

Because then, she saw them.

Not in passing, not in the background of a crowded café, but right there, standing beneath the golden glow of the afternoon sun, a little too close, a little too familiar.

Winter’s hand rested on Y/N’s arm, a fleeting touch, light, effortless, something Karina might have ignored if not for what came next.

Because Y/N leaned into it.

It wasn’t dramatic, it wasn’t obvious, but it was there, the subtle way her body shifted toward Winter, the way her head tilted ever so slightly in response, the way she didn’t pull away.

And just like that, everything unraveled.

Karina stopped walking. The conversation beside her faded into nothing. The world around her ceased to exist. All she could do was stare, her pulse hammering, something deep and ugly clawing at her chest.

Because this wasn’t laughter, wasn’t teasing, wasn’t some passing moment she could brush off as meaningless.

This was Y/N letting someone else in, and Winter was looking at her like she was the only person in the world.

Karina knew that look.

She had worn that look before, countless times, in moments she never dared to name, but now, it was someone else watching Y/N with that same quiet reverence, someone else standing too close.

Karina felt something deep, sharp, ugly twist inside her, something that made her fingers clench around the strap of her bag, something that made her stomach tighten like she had been punched without warning.

She had no right to feel this way. She had spent years convincing herself that she didn’t want this, not fully, not openly, not in a way that required admitting anything real. She had spent years avoiding the truth, brushing off the tension between them, deflecting every question, every rumor, every moment that felt like it was teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something irreversible.

And yet, here she was.

Drowning in emotions she refused to name.

The jealousy she had been denying, brushing off as nothing more than habit, as nothing more than the remnants of a childhood bond she had simply grown too accustomed to. The possessiveness she had been excusing, convincing herself that her irritation, her frustration, her sharp remarks had nothing to do with wanting more, with wanting Y/N. The feelings she had been running from for as long as she could remember, terrified of what they might mean, terrified of the way they threatened to consume her.

And suddenly, it was all too much.

The weight of it pressed down on her chest, made it hard to breathe, made it impossible to ignore the painful realization that had been staring her in the face for weeks.

Y/N was moving on.

Without her and for the first time in her life, Karina had no idea how to stop it.

So, she shut down, she did what she had always done, built walls, withdrew, forced herself into a carefully constructed silence that left no room for vulnerability, no room for anything but detachment.

She became colder, more distant.

She stopped engaging in conversations, offering nothing but short replies, never saying more than was necessary, she stopped acknowledging Y/N in the ways that mattered, acting as if her presence no longer affected her, as if nothing had changed, as if she wasn’t unraveling inside.

She convinced herself that if she ignored it long enough, if she pretended she didn’t care, then maybe, just maybe, she could convince herself that it was true.

But the worst part? Everyone saw it.

They saw the way her fingers clenched involuntarily whenever Y/N’s phone vibrated on the table, her entire body tensing as if she were bracing for impact. They saw the way her mood darkened whenever Winter entered the room, how her already guarded expression hardened even further, how the air around her seemed to shift, colder, heavier. They saw the way Karina was slowly unraveling, piece by piece, no matter how hard she tried to hold herself together.

And still, she refused to admit it.

Because if she admitted it, if she said the words out loud, if she let the truth take shape, then there would be no more excuses, no more half-truths, no more pretending.

It would be real, and if it was real, then she would have to face the most painful truth of all.

She was losing Y/N and it was her own damn fault.

The feeling lingered, refusing to fade no matter how many times she tried to push it down. It followed her through every conversation, every meaningless distraction, every hollow attempt to pretend that nothing had changed.

And as the days blurred together, as the weight of it all became unbearable, she did what she had always done, she buried it.

So when Giselle’s invitation arrived, promising a night of reckless indulgence, of expensive liquor and distraction wrapped in flashing lights and whispered secrets, Karina didn’t hesitate, because if there was ever a night to forget, to drown in excess and pretend she wasn’t falling apart, this was it.

Giselle’s house was a vision of opulence, a place built for luxury, for indulgence, for nights like this, where the elite could gather under the guise of casual fun, their lives a carefully orchestrated display of excess disguised as effortless glamour.

The estate, nestled just outside the city, was nothing short of breathtaking. A masterpiece of modern architecture, sleek lines and towering glass walls giving way to an expansive view of the Seoul skyline, the city lights stretching endlessly into the night. Inside, the atmosphere was electric, a seamless blend of elegance and extravagance, where every detail had been curated to perfection.

The ceilings dripped with glowing chandeliers, their soft golden light casting a warm haze over the lavish interiors. Music pulsed beneath the murmur of voices, an intoxicating undercurrent of deep bass and sultry melodies that wove through the space like a heartbeat. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and aged whiskey, with the quiet hum of whispered secrets and promises exchanged behind half-lidded glances.

The guests, Yonsei University’s most privileged students, the ones born into power, the ones who had never known anything less, moved through the house like they belonged to it. Their bodies draped in couture, silk and velvet and designer labels clinging to them like second skin. Their laughter was loud but never careless, their conversations sharp but never without purpose.

This was their world.

And Karina was supposed to thrive in it.

This was the kind of setting where she had always reigned, where she could slip into her role effortlessly, where she could exist as the person everyone expected her to be. The poised heiress, the untouchable beauty, the one who never faltered, never let her mask slip, never allowed anything or anyone to shake her.

Tonight, though, she felt none of those things.

Tonight, she was restless.

Her grip on her drink was too tight, her shoulders held too stiffly, tension coiling in the space between her ribs, making it difficult to breathe, to relax, to lose herself in the comfortable chaos of the night.

She didn’t have to watch the door to feel it. It wasn’t a sound, nor a movement, but a shift, a sudden, almost imperceptible change in the air, a ripple through the carefully curated chaos of the party.

Before she even turned, before the murmurs of intrigue and speculation could swell, before the weight of unspoken attention gathered toward the entrance, Karina knew.

The atmosphere tilted, an unspoken energy spreading through the room like a slow-building storm, the kind that sends an unnatural stillness before the downpour, the kind that steals the air from your lungs before the thunder even rolls in. Conversations faltered, glasses paused mid-air, heads instinctively turned, drawn to a presence that demanded to be noticed without ever asking to be.

Karina knew it was irrational, ridiculous, self-destructive, even, the way her pulse betrayed her, the way her chest felt tight before she even looked. But her body knew before her mind did.

She turned and there she was.

Y/N.

Framed by the soft golden glow of the chandelier overhead, standing at the threshold like she had been painted into the night itself, something too effortless, too breathtaking, too untouchable.

She was wearing a delicate yet dangerously fitted dress, a whisper of fabric that clung in all the right places, it moved with her like a second skin, the silk catching the light with each step, sculpting her into something undeniably mesmerizing. The warm glow of the house kissed along her collarbone, brushed against the curve of her smile, settled in the depths of her gaze and for a fleeting moment, Karina forgot to breathe.

She looked weightless. Effortless. Unburdened.

And there beside her was Winter.

Karina’s fingers tightened around her glass, her knuckles turning white.

She barely registered the way the room reacted, the way the murmurs swelled around them, growing, feeding off the new energy Y/N’s arrival had brought, because all she could see was the way Winter’s hand rested at the small of Y/N’s back.

All she could focus on was the way Y/N leaned in slightly, just barely, just enough to make Karina’s stomach churn, just enough to make it feel like someone had reached inside her chest and twisted.

Winter was whispering something against her ear, her lips so close that Karina could barely tell if they were touching. And Y/N? She was smiling.

Smiling like she didn’t have a care in the world, smiling like she wasn’t even thinking about Karina.

And that was unbearable.

Karina tried to convince herself that she was merely observing, that she was simply analyzing the situation, that this was just another night, another party, another fleeting moment that would mean nothing in the morning.

But it felt like she was suffocating.

Winter remained at Y/N’s side, a constant, unshakable presence, moving with an ease that made Karina’s skin burn. She hovered close, too close. Her body angled toward Y/N in a way that felt deliberate, practiced, familiar. She leaned in every so often, voice low, murmuring words meant only for Y/N’s ears, and Karina watched as Y/N let her.

There was no hesitation, no resistance, no second-guessing. Y/N didn’t pull away.

And that was what made Karina feel like she was drowning. For weeks, she had told herself it didn’t matter. That it was nothing. That she was above this, immune to it, unaffected. She had convinced herself that Y/N was just trying to prove a point, that Winter was nothing more than a momentary distraction, that whatever was happening between them would pass.

But now, standing there, watching them move through the party with the ease of something unchallenged, something unspoken but understood, Karina realized she had been wrong.

They weren’t just flirting with the idea of something more. They were already there.

Suddenly, the pressure in Karina’s chest became suffocating. The weight of the jealousy, the regret, the bitterness, the terrifying realization that she had let this happen, pressed down on her ribs, coiled around her throat, threatened to consume her whole.

Something inside her snapped. She hadn’t meant to move toward them. Truly, she hadn’t.

One moment, Karina was standing near the bar, her fingers pressing into the cool glass of her drink, her grip tightening with every passing second, her jaw clenched so tightly that a dull ache had begun to spread from her temples down her neck. The weight of the night pressed against her skin, a slow suffocation she couldn’t shake, her thoughts tangled in the same loop she had been trapped in for weeks, the one where Y/N was slipping further and further away.

She had spent the evening doing everything she could to ignore the burning in her chest, to pretend that the sight of Winter and Y/N together didn’t feel like a carefully placed dagger between her ribs, to convince herself that it didn’t matter who Y/N arrived with, who she was standing next to, who she was laughing with.

But then, somehow, without thinking, without planning, without considering the consequences, she was moving.

Her body acted before her mind could stop her, her feet carrying her forward through the dimly lit room, past the murmuring crowd, past the distant hum of laughter and conversation, straight toward the one person she had been trying to avoid looking at all night.

The world around her seemed to blur, the music fading into nothing more than a dull vibration in the background, the voices of their peers turning into white noise as the only thing that existed in that moment was Y/N.

Y/N saw her first.

Their gazes locked across the room, and for one brief, fleeting second, Karina forgot why she was angry. She forgot everything.

Because looking at Y/N, really looking at her, up close, bathed in golden light, her eyes bright and unwavering made Karina remember all of it.

She remembered every laugh, every lingering touch, every whispered conversation that had lingered on the edge of something dangerous, something unspoken, something so close to love that it terrified her. She remembered all the moments she had brushed aside, all the chances she had let slip away, all the times she had chosen silence instead of the truth.

And then Winter turned.

That fragile second, the one where Karina could have softened, could have let herself breathe, could have walked away before she did something reckless was gone.

Winter’s gaze met hers, calm and unreadable, but far too knowing, far too steady, like she had been waiting for this moment to happen, like she had already anticipated every move Karina would make.

Like she was daring her to react, and Karina’s control snapped.

The sharpness in her voice cut through the air before she had time to stop it, her tone edged with something undeniable, frustration, jealousy, the unbearable feeling of losing control.

“So this is what we’re doing now?”

Y/N blinked, her brows pulling together in the slightest hint of confusion, as if she wasn’t entirely sure what Karina was accusing her of.

“What?”

Karina let out a short, humorless laugh, the sound empty and bitter, her arms crossing over her chest in a weak attempt to keep herself grounded, to stop herself from reaching for something she had no right to claim.

“You’re really going to stand here and act like you’re not flaunting this?”

She gestured between them, her gaze flickering to where Winter’s arm rested so casually against the back of Y/N’s chair, to the way Y/N hadn’t moved away, hadn’t even hesitated.

That was what stung the most, not the whispers surrounding them, not the way people were beginning to take notice, not even the fact that Y/N had walked into this party with Winter instead of her.

But the fact that she was comfortable here, that Winter could touch her so easily, so freely, without hesitation.

That Y/N wasn’t holding herself back anymore.

“Like you’re not making a show out of it?”

For the first time since Karina had approached, Y/N’s expression shifted, her lips parting slightly as disbelief flickered across her face, quickly followed by frustration. There was a brief moment, one Karina might have missed if she hadn’t been looking so closely, where Y/N looked genuinely taken aback, like she hadn’t expected Karina to say it out loud.

Y/N’s expression shifted in an instant. Gone was the flicker of surprise and in its place, something colder, sharper, something that settled with an unbearable weight in Karina’s chest, twisting like a slow, inevitable knife.

Her gaze, once open, once familiar, once something Karina had always found warmth in, hardened like steel.

And when she spoke, her voice was steady. Too steady.

"Excuse me?"

Two words, quiet but firm, each syllable laced with an undercurrent of warning, a challenge wrapped in something controlled, measured, dangerous. There was no disbelief in them, no real shock, just a razor-thin layer of patience stretched so tightly it could snap at any moment.

Karina felt it like a punch to the ribs.

The world around them seemed to hold its breath, the steady pulse of music dulling to a distant thrum in the background, the warm buzz of conversation fading into something meaningless, something that no longer existed in their space.

Beside Y/N, Winter shifted, her posture straightening ever so slightly, her gaze flickering between them. But she didn’t speak. She didn’t step in. She didn’t break the tension that had begun to coil between them like a fraying rope ready to snap.

She didn’t need to, because this wasn’t about Winter.

It never had been.

This was about them.

Karina’s voice dipped lower, but the sharp edge never softened, never dulled. She couldn’t make it soften, not now, not with the way her chest felt tight, the way her pulse roared in her ears, the way control was slipping through her fingers faster than she could catch it.

"Is this supposed to be payback?"

The words fell from her lips before she had the chance to stop them, before she could think about the weight they carried, before she could consider what they would do once spoken into existence.

Each syllable landed heavy between them, pressing down on her ribs, sinking into her like lead.

Too late to take it back now.

She felt it in her chest, thick and suffocating, a pressure she couldn’t shake, couldn’t run from, couldn’t ignore.

Her breath came too fast, shallow and uneven, her throat constricting as if the very act of speaking had cost her something irretrievable. Her pulse pounded, hammering against the inside of her skull, a relentless reminder that she had just crossed a line she couldn’t uncross.

"Is that what this is?"

For a fleeting moment, something passed over Y/N’s face, a flicker of emotion so quick that Karina might have missed it if she hadn’t been watching so intently.

A shift in her expression, a crack in her armor, something hot, furious, exhausted.

And then Y/N scoffed.

It wasn’t light, it wasn’t amused, it wasn’t teasing, the way it used to be when she would playfully challenge Karina’s remarks, when she would push back with that familiar smirk Karina had grown too comfortable with.

It was frustration.

Frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface for too long, frustration that had been pushed down, swallowed, ignored. Until now.

"Payback for what, Jimin?"

Karina felt her breath hitch, the sharp intake barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat, now pounding painfully against her ribs.

She froze, not noticeably, not in a way anyone else might have caught, but Y/N did.

She saw it all.

The way Karina’s posture stiffened ever so slightly, the way her fingers twitched at her sides, the way her lips parted just barely, as if she wanted to say something, as if she almost could.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

And in that moment, Y/N understood everything.

Understood the hesitation, the silence, the fear. Understood that Karina had never been the type to fight for something real, not when it meant tearing down the walls she had spent years building. Understood that even now, even when she was standing in front of the one person she couldn’t bear to lose, she still couldn’t say what mattered most.

Then, when she did nothing but stand there, rooted in place, her silence louder than anything she could have said, Y/N’s expression shifted completely.

Her voice softened, but not with kindness, with something far, far more cutting.

“You don’t get to be mad.”

The words hit harder than Karina was prepared for, stealing the air from her lungs, knocking the wind out of her before she even had a chance to defend herself.

She wanted to say something, anything, to argue, to deflect, to find a way to twist the moment into something that didn’t leave her standing there, exposed and unraveling.

But Y/N wasn’t finished.

Her voice was steady, but there was an ache buried beneath the evenness of her tone, an exhaustion that Karina recognized all too well.

“You don’t get to act like I belong to you when you never wanted to claim me.”

And just like that, it was over.

The music played on, the party still thrived, the rest of the world kept moving, but Karina felt frozen in place.

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, nails pressing into her palms, jaw locked so tightly that it hurt.

Because Y/N was right. She had always been right.

And yet, even now, even when Karina knew she had lost, even when she knew this was her fault, she still couldn’t say the words Y/N needed to hear.

She still couldn’t reach for her, she still couldn’t stop this from slipping through her fingers.

Y/N let out a slow, measured breath, her shoulders rising and falling in a way that felt far too controlled, far too intentional. The exhaustion in her posture was impossible to ignore, not the kind that came from a long night, but something deeper, heavier, the kind that came from waiting too long, from holding onto something that refused to be held.

Her head tilted slightly, her gaze locking onto Karina’s, but there was no anger left in it. No sharp edges, no lingering frustration, no fight.

Just acceptance.

“You know what I want to hear, Jimin.”

Her voice was quiet but firm, steady but final. She wasn’t begging. There was no desperation in the words, no plea for Karina to do something she should have done long ago. She wasn’t asking anymore.

She was giving Karina one last chance, and Karina felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Her entire body was taut, rigid with something she couldn’t name, something that twisted deep in her chest, clawing at the inside of her ribs, warning her that this was it.

That she was standing at the very edge of something unforgiving, irreversible. That if she didn’t reach for Y/N now, she never would.

She had spent years avoiding this exact moment, years dodging every instance where she could have said it, could have admitted it, could have done something other than stand there with her fists clenched and her heart barricaded behind a wall she refused to tear down.

But now, that same silence, the one that had always felt like safety, like control, like self-preservation. It was costing her everything.

Y/N waited.

She didn’t move, she didn’t push, she didn’t demand.

She just waited.

And Karina stayed silent.

She could feel the words forming, rising in her throat, pressing against the back of her teeth, but she couldn’t force them out, because saying them meant acknowledging what she had spent years running from.

Saying them meant admitting that she had been a coward, saying them meant she would never be able to take it back.

Y/N’s expression shifted, the change so subtle yet so deeply unraveling that it sent a slow, creeping ache through Karina’s chest, one that pressed against her ribs with the weight of something irreversible.

It wasn’t the kind of shift that came with sharp gasps or breaking voices, not the kind of devastation that tore through a person in a storm of anger or desperation. No, this was something quieter, something far more painful. It was a soft, lingering exhale, the faintest downward tilt of her lips, the way her shoulders, which had held so much tension, so much hope, so much waiting, finally lowered in the smallest gesture of surrender.

And just like that, the last bit of light in Y/N’s eyes faded, the hope she had been holding onto so tightly slipping through her grasp like sand spilling between her fingers, impossible to reclaim.

It wasn’t immediate. It happened gradually, like watching the embers of a dying fire lose their glow, like the slow dimming of sunlight as dusk takes hold, like the quiet realization that something is already gone before you even have the chance to mourn it.

Karina could only stare as the shift settled over Y/N’s face, as the warmth that had always been there, even in the moments when they fought, even in the moments when frustration lined her features, began to dissolve into something else entirely. Resignation. Acceptance. The moment where hope no longer felt worth holding onto.

It wasn’t dramatic. There was no outburst, no anger, no tears pooling at the edges of her lashes. It wasn’t a breaking point that shattered into something irreparable, not the kind of goodbye that came with forceful declarations or the sharp edges of a final argument.

It was worse.

Because it was quiet, because it was the kind of moment where nothing needed to be said for Karina to feel everything. Because it was the look of someone realizing, with devastating certainty, that they had been waiting for something that was never going to come.

Y/N had given her the chance, one last opportunity to say the words that had been left unspoken for far too long, to finally break the cycle of almosts and unsaid things, to reach for what had always been just within grasp.

And Karina had done what she always did. She had stayed silent.

Y/N, standing there, eyes dimming in a way that made Karina feel like the ground beneath her was slipping, had finally understood.

Karina wasn’t going to say it, she never would.

Y/N’s lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something else, as if there was more to be said, but she only inhaled sharply before pressing them into a thin, firm line.

Her next words were softer than before, but they hit harder than anything else that had been said between them tonight.

“But if you can’t say it…”

She trailed off, shaking her head, her fingers curling into loose fists at her sides, as if she was trying to ground herself, trying to steady the way her heart was breaking right in front of Karina.

Then, finally, with an exhale that felt like the last page of a story she hadn’t wanted to end, she finished.

“Then let me go.”

And just like that, Karina felt something deep inside her broke.

She had always thought heartbreak would be loud. That it would come with screaming and accusations and reckless words thrown like knives meant to wound.

But this? This was worse.

This was Y/N looking at her like she already knew, like she had expected this, like she had already made peace with it.

Y/N held her gaze for a second longer, a second too long, a second filled with something Karina wasn’t ready to lose.

It was almost like she was waiting, like she was praying, that Karina would stop her. That she would fight, that she would say something, that she would do anything.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

So Y/N did the only thing she could.

She just reached for Winter’s hand, fingers curling around it like an anchor, like something solid, something certain, something Karina had never allowed herself to be.

And then, she walked away. Through the crowd, past the flashing lights, past everything they had built, past every moment Karina had let slip through her fingers.

And Karina? Karina let her.

The party carried on around her, the music pulsing, the laughter rising, the glasses clinking together in celebration of something that no longer mattered. The people who had witnessed the confrontation had already moved on, absorbed back into their own conversations, their own distractions, as if nothing had happened. As if Karina’s entire world hadn’t just collapsed right in front of her.

She stood frozen in place, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to comprehend the fact that Y/N had really walked away. That she had let her, that she had stood there, silent and paralyzed, while Y/N, the one person she never wanted to lose, the one person who had been waiting for her for so long, finally stopped waiting.

The weight of it pressed down on her, squeezing at her lungs, making it impossible to draw in a full breath.

This was it.

The moment she had spent years avoiding, the one she had pretended would never come. And yet, now that it was here, now that she was standing in the empty space Y/N had left behind, she felt the kind of fear that settled deep into her bones.

She had lost her and she had no one to blame but herself.

Somewhere in the haze of her thoughts, a voice cut through the numbness.

“You’re an idiot.”

Karina barely had time to register it before Giselle appeared beside her, a mix of frustration and disbelief etched into her features, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

Ryujin wasn’t far behind, leaning against the wall, her sharp eyes scanning Karina’s face, reading her like an open book. They both looked at her like they had been waiting for this moment to happen, like they had seen it coming long before Karina had.

“What the hell are you still doing here?” Giselle demanded.

Karina blinked, her mind still sluggish, her body still unmoving, her heart still hammering against her ribs like it was trying to remind her that she was running out of time.

Ryujin sighed, shaking her head. “For someone so smart, you’re really fucking dumb sometimes.”

Karina swallowed, her throat dry, her voice barely a whisper. “It’s too late.”

Giselle’s eyes narrowed, her frustration sharp and cutting. “No, it’s not. It will be if you stand here doing nothing.”

Karina let out a slow breath, but it did nothing to steady the rapid beat of her pulse. “I don’t know what to say.”

Ryujin scoffed. “That’s your problem, Rina. You never do.”

And suddenly, it hit her.

Like a tidal wave crashing into her chest, like a flood of memories all pouring in at once, a thousand moments playing back in her mind like a film she had never fully appreciated until now.

She saw it all.

She saw herself at seven years old, fists clenched as she stood in front of Y/N, shielding her from a boy twice her size, the scrape on her own knee burning from when she had pushed Y/N behind her, the words spilling from her lips before she even thought to be afraid.

“You don’t touch her.”

She saw herself at sixteen, watching from the sidelines as Y/N sat on the bleachers after a bad day, her head tucked into her knees, her body curled in on itself like she wanted to disappear. Karina had said nothing, just sat beside her, shoulder pressing into hers, the quiet between them stretching for minutes before Y/N had finally, finally let herself lean into her.

She saw all the moments she had let slip by, all the times she had chosen silence over truth, chosen distance over vulnerability, chosen fear over love.

She had spent her entire life protecting Y/N from everything, except herself.

Her legs were moving before she could think, before she could hesitate, before she could convince herself that she was making a mistake. She didn’t care how she looked. She didn’t care who was watching. She didn’t care that she was running like she had just realized she had something to lose.

Because she did, and if she didn’t stop Y/N now, she never would.

She burst through the front door of Giselle’s house, the cold night air hitting her like a slap to the face, but she barely noticed. Her eyes searched frantically, scanning the driveway, desperate, desperate, desperate.

And then she saw her.

Y/N, standing by the curb, Winter at her side, the car door already open.

She was leaving.

For a second, Karina felt her breath catch, panic clawing at her chest, the kind of terror that came with the realization that she had seconds, mere seconds, to change everything.

And then, she was moving, she didn’t think, she didn’t hesitate, she just ran.

“Y/N!”

Y/N turned, and Karina barely registered Winter stepping aside, barely noticed anything but the way Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, her lips parting, her entire body going still.

Karina didn’t slow down.

She reached for her, fingers wrapping around Y/N’s wrist, holding onto her like she was terrified she might disappear if she let go. She was trembling, her chest rising and falling too fast, her pulse a frenzied rhythm in her veins, but she didn’t care.

She didn’t care that she had spent years running from this moment, she didn’t care that she had built walls so high she had nearly trapped herself inside them.

All she cared about was the girl in front of her.

“Don’t leave with her.”

Her voice cracked, unsteady, filled with something raw and breaking, something that threatened to spill over if she didn’t get the words out fast enough.

Y/N just stared at her, her expression unreadable, her silence louder than any rejection Karina could have imagined.

Karina swallowed, her grip tightening, her heart pounding.

“What should I do?” Her voice was almost desperate now, her breath uneven, her fingers clutching Y/N’s wrist as if letting go would be the end of it all. “What should I do to make you stay?”

Y/N stared at Karina, her breath coming in short, uneven pulls, her body rigid with everything she was trying so desperately to hold together. The weight of Karina’s grip on her wrist was grounding and unbearable all at once, because this was everything she had wanted, everything she had begged for in silence, and yet, she didn’t know if she could trust it.

She had spent too long waiting. Too long standing at the edge of something that had never been solid, never been safe.

So when she finally spoke, her voice was low, trembling, barely holding back the storm rising in her chest.

“Three words,” she whispered, her eyes searching Karina’s, pleading but firm, a last stand, a final demand.

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, her body swaying forward just slightly, as if drawn in by something invisible, something stronger than pride, stronger than fear.

“Eight letters,” she continued, exhaling sharply as she blinked back the tears that threatened to slip past her lashes.

“Say it, and I’m yours.”

She swallowed hard, her voice steadying, but her resolve cracking just beneath the surface.

“That’s all I ever wanted to hear.”

The words hung between them, soft but deafening, fragile but unbreakable.

And Karina felt like the world had stopped turning.

She could feel her pulse hammering against the inside of her ribs, could feel the cold night air against her skin, could feel everything she had ever been afraid of standing right in front of her, waiting.

This was it.

The moment she had spent years avoiding, the moment she had spent weeks convincing herself would never come. The moment that, now that it was here, terrified her more than anything had ever terrified her before.

She hesitated, and she saw it. The exact moment Y/N’s expression flickered with something devastated, something breaking, something Karina knew she had caused over and over again.

But not this time, not anymore.

Karina inhaled sharply, her throat tightening as she finally, finally let herself feel everything.

She had always known.

She had known it in the way her world had always tilted toward Y/N, in the way she had memorized her laugh before she had ever memorized her own fears, in the way she had spent her entire life keeping Y/N close but never quite close enough.

She had known it every time she had chosen silence over truth.

But now she was done being silent.

Karina’s fingers tightened around Y/N’s wrist, her voice trembling, her breath uneven, her heart crashing against the walls of her chest.

“I love you.”

Y/N sucked in a breath, her entire body going still.

Karina took a step closer, her grip firm, as if she was anchoring herself to the only thing that had ever made sense.

“I’ve always loved you,” she said, and this time, there was no hesitation, no fear, no doubt.

Just the truth.

Raw, unfiltered, undeniable truth.

Her voice cracked slightly, the weight of everything she had suppressed for years finally breaking through.

“And I can’t spend another minute without you.”

And then she kissed her.

The moment their lips met, it was nothing like the stolen touches, nothing like the hesitant almosts, nothing like the careful, restrained tension they had spent years trapped in.

It was desperate, overwhelming, shattering.

Y/N let out a soft gasp against her lips, her hands flying up to Karina’s shoulders, gripping the fabric of her blazer like she wasn’t sure if she was dreaming.

Karina melted into her, every single wall she had ever built crumbling as she kissed her like she was terrified she would disappear.

She felt Y/N press closer, felt the way her body trembled, felt the way everything between them finally, finally made sense, and when they pulled apart, Y/N’s eyes were shining, her lips swollen, her breath coming out in short, disbelieving exhales.

But she didn’t let go, neither did Karina.

A soft clearing of a throat broke the moment, and they both turned to see Winter standing just a few feet away, watching them with a small, knowing smile.

She didn’t look upset. She didn’t even look surprised.

Instead, she simply gave Y/N’s hand a gentle squeeze before stepping back, her expression unreadable for a brief moment before she let out a quiet sigh.

“Are you going to be okay?” she asked, her voice soft but firm, as if she already knew the answer but needed to hear it anyway.

Y/N swallowed, the weight of the moment pressing heavy against her chest, but she forced a small nod. "Yeah… I'll be fine."

Winter studied her for a second longer, as if trying to decide whether or not to believe her.

Then, her gaze flickered to Karina, and for the first time that night, her smile faded. Something sharper, something unmistakably protective, flickered in her expression.

She exhaled slowly, shaking her head just slightly before speaking again. “Took you long enough.” The words weren’t laced with bitterness, but they carried an undeniable weight, a reminder of all the time Karina had wasted, all the moments she had let slip through her fingers, all the times she had chosen silence instead of love.

Then, after a beat, her gaze steadied, voice quieter but firm, “Don’t hurt her again.” her eyes locking onto Karina’s with a weight that made it clear this wasn’t just a passing remark, it was a warning.

Karina didn’t say anything. She just nodded, she understood exactly what was at stake.

Winter lingered for only a moment before stepping back, slipping into the driver’s seat of her car. The quiet hum of the engine filled the night air, and then, without another word, she pulled away, disappearing down the road.

When Y/N and Karina finally stepped back inside the house, the party was still in full swing, but this time, it felt different.

This time, Y/N wasn’t standing across the room with Winter, this time, Karina wasn’t watching from the sidelines, too afraid to reach out. This time, they were together.

It didn’t take long before Giselle spotted them, her sharp eyes narrowing as she took in the way Karina’s arm was firmly around Y/N’s waist, the way Y/N was leaning into her, the way something had shifted.

A slow, satisfied smirk spread across her lips. “Oh, finally.”

Ningning, standing beside her, raised an eyebrow before crossing her arms. “I swear to God, if you two had kept up this ridiculous back and forth any longer, I was going to lock you in a room until you figured it out.”

Yeji and Ryujin exchanged glances, both shaking their heads in exasperation. “I was starting to think this would take another lifetime,” Ryujin muttered, before lifting her glass as if in celebration.

“Honestly, I was about to start taking bets on whether they’d figure it out before we all graduated.”

Y/N just laughed, the sound lighter than it had been in weeks. Karina turned to look at her, and for the first time in her life, she wasn’t afraid of what she felt. She wasn’t afraid to reach for her, to hold onto her, to let everyone see.

Y/N met her gaze, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile, one Karina mirrored without hesitation.

This time, they weren’t pretending, this time, they were exactly where they were supposed to be.

And whatever came next they would face it together.

#kpop imagines #girl group imagines #gg x reader #kpop x reader #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #karina x fem reader #karina x reader #yu jimin x reader #jimin x fem reader

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thanosscross · 5 months ago

Text

All for show 3/? - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x American! Pop-Star! Reader

Summary: After being caught by your manager, Christopher, for leaving the country, you're left with a big decision to make, stay in Korea, and risk everybody's jobs, or go back to America and kiss your new dream life goodbye.

Warnings: Some Angst for your lovelies!

Staying with Seung Hyun was like a dream for you, there wasn't underlying stress, no pressure of being perfect, just having fun with your boyfriend. You were taking small steps, both of you wanting to make sure, that what was going on between you, lasted, but both of you were enjoying every moment together.

It’d only be six days though, before Christopher would be blowing your phone up with different lectures and threats. Of course, it’d also be whenever Seung Hyun would be out recording with the boys, and you weren’t about to bother him with this while he was working. So you sat in his bedroom, your back against the bed frame as you stared at your phone screen, watching as new texts came in every few seconds.

‘Y/n. If it’s true you left the country I swear’

‘You’re seriously in South Korea right now?’

‘Do you know how unprofessional it is to just take off like that? What if you had something scheduled?’

‘You’re ruining your own career being a selfish brat.’

‘And if you don’t ruin it, I’ll make sure it’s the last thing I do because you don’t deserve any of this.’

‘I knew I never should’ve wasted my time on some sorry warm body’

‘I swear I will come to Korea myself just to knock some sense into your stupid fucking head’

As more texts flooded in, you started to grow scared, the more you didn’t reply, the angrier that Chris got. You weren’t sure what had gotten into him, he had never acted like this before, but it was making you terrified to return back to your country. You watched as your phone went off with calls from Christopher before a single text came through from your assistant

‘Christopher just fired everybody, what the hell is going on? Are you okay?’

You tried to hold back your tears, calling her quickly, you never wanted any of this to happen, you never thought it would ever come to this point “y/n? Honey? What’s going on?” Your assistant, Casey, asked softly, you could hear Christopher’s muffled shouts in the background “He found out I left the country, C-Cas, he’s like..for real threatening me, I don’t know if I should come back” you whimpered, trying to calm your nerves as you heard your friend huff “don’t let him scare you. He’s nothing but some small dick, wannabe pop star, short ass, dumb, narcissistic, piece of shit of a man” she listed off, smiling whenever she heard you giggle softly over the phone. “Where’s your man, huh? I’d think you’d be all over him before you had to come back home” she added on, trying her best to change the subject, you sighed a bit, trying your best to tune out the muffled threats of your manager being shouted in the background “he’s recording for a new song..he should be home in awhile” you whispered before flinching slightly whenever you heard the door open over the phone, and Christopher’s shouts become much louder “are you on the phone with her?!” He shouted before you heard Casey’s shouting loudly, telling him to fuck off before calling out that she’d call you back in a little bit.

Leaving you alone in the home, your phone was still blowing up, this time worse than before, the fact you were talking to Casey and not him just fueled his anger even more. “Aein! I’m home!” Seung Hyun called softly as he closed the front door behind him, trying to track you down somewhere in the home.

Whenever he finally managed to find you, his heart would break slightly “y/n?..what are you doing?..” he asked softly, watching as you tried your best to shove your clothes into your suitcase “I-i can’t stay here, C-Chris found out I left t-the country, and if I don’t show back up there by nine tonight their time, everybody is going to lose their jobs” you whispered, dropping your arms in defeat, you should’ve known this was going to happen. With your luck, you should’ve known this wouldn’t work, Christopher wouldn’t let it, not without him having every bit of control over it. Seung Hyun rushed over, grabbing your hands gently “Aein..my love” he replied, pulling you into a tight hug as you just leaned into his touch, not wanting to leave, but you never meant to cause any damage by coming here. "Do You want to leave?" He asked softly, holding you close as he swayed with you slightly, you just shook your head quickly, wrapping your arms around him as you sighed "No, I don't.." You stopped yourself from explaining further, he had enough to stress about, he didn't need to stress additionally about your stuff. Seung Hyun sighed, he wasn't sure what to say, until it finally dawned on him "Aren't you his biggest star? Why not just employ your own staff, and then sign on to a different company? With how big you are overseas, I'm sure it could work" He explained, slowly leading you to sit down on the bed with him, You just shrugged nervously, trying to hold back any new tears, this was really hard to deal with.

"What if nobody wants me?.." You whispered, looking at your shoes, trying your best not meet his gaze, knowing you'd immediately break down if you did. "My love, now that's just silly, I'm sure you could even find an agency here to sign with" He protested, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to pull you close, you just stayed quiet, you wanted to tell Seung Hyun everything involved in the situation, but you didn't want him worried, or him feel like he was obligated to help you. "I-I don't know..- If I go back..-" You stopped yourself, growing frustrated at the fact you weren't finding the words you needed to, Seung Hyun just watching you intently, wanting to help you in any way that he could. "I'm scared to go home, alone" You whispered, staring at the wall, trying to ignore the way your hands shook as you slowly slid your phone to him "Chris is really, Really mad.." You added on, leaning into his hold, as he opened your phone, starting to read through your message. You could tell as his grip on you tightened, and his breathing became unstable, he was getting more towards the threatening messages. "What the fuck? 자신의 협박이 불법이라는 사실을 몰랐나요? 신고하셨나요? 그는 말 그대로 당신을 해치겠다고 협박하고 있어요, 내 사랑 (Didn't you know his threats were illegal? Did you report them? He's literally threatening to hurt you, my love)" He asked quickly, cupping your cheeks gently to pull your attention towards him "I-I don't know what to do" You whimpered, you had been signed under Christopher's company for years, you grew up with him through your late teen years, and early adult years, so the thought of leaving and going where new, also terrified you, just as much as the idea of staying did. "Y/n, You need to leave his management" He whispered, his tone still stern and demanding, trying to tell you that you really had no other choice, he wouldn't let you have another choice. Seung Hyun loved and cared about you way too much to let you deal with your manager any longer, he knew the moment he saw you fighting with him for the first time, that Chris was not a good guy in the slightest. "Where would I go? Where would I sign? Seung Hyun, I love you..but I'm stuck" You ranted, standing back up to start packing again, you needed to get back home before Chris takes things too far and tries to go after Seung Hyun, in retaliation. "My love! You could go anywhere!" He argued, huffing whenever he noticed you weren't going to back down, You had to do this, you had staff members with kids and families to take care of, that couldn't afford to lose their jobs.

Seung Hyun watched for a moment, before ultimately deciding, he was going with you. As he stood up and started packing his own clothes, neatly folding them and laying them flat in his suitcase. "W-What are you doing?" You asked, grabbing his hands gently, stopping him from his task "If you're this set on going back to deal with his stupid ass, then I'm going with you. I'm not going to allow you to do this alone" He explained, turning to face you, you just huffed, between your frustration with Chris, and your anxiety, you couldn't fathom why on earth, Seung Hyun would want to come deal with this bullshit. "Why? You have your own job, your own stressful bullshit here, so why would you want to add on someone else's bullshit?" You asked, dropping your hands to your sides, tilting your head, trying to understand him and his thought process. "Y/n...You're not just someone else, and I'm not adding it on. I love you, Aein, and your bullshit..is my bullshit" He explained, pulling you into a tight hug "Anything you have to go through, my love, I'll always be by your side, that way there's not anything scary, that you ever have to go through alone again" He explained, trying his best to word it properly, you just sighed, dropping your head onto his chest, trying not to cry again, this time by the pure sweetness of Seung Hyun. "Why are you so charming?" You groaned, wrapping your arms around him tightly, looking up to meet his gaze. Seung Hyun just offered you a sympathetic smile as he rubbed your arms gently, motioning to your suitcases laying on the bed "So..Are we going to America?" He asked softly, knowing if so, he'd definitely be scheduling a meeting with your manager.

Whenever you'd land back in L.A, you'd try and hold on to Seung Hyun's hand the entire process of going out to the car you had waiting outside. "Love?...Swear you're not going to start anything?" You whispered, you knew you'd have to have a conversation with Christopher, especially if you were pulling out of your contract with him, and you also knew Seung Hyun wasn't going to let you do it alone, especially with how Chris has been acting towards you. "I can't make promises, my love, I can promise I'll try to wait until you're not present" He whispered softly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as you approached the car, Christopher standing outside, rolling his eyes at the image of you both walking out. Seung Hyun could feel his blood start to boil as he approached the car and your manager, his body felt tense, and he could feel his stomach start to do flips from how much anger ran through his body. "So nice of you to actually show up and do your fucking job" Christopher spat, watching as you silently got in the car, keeping your eyes trained on your boyfriend as he stared Chris down before he climbed in next to you.

The ride to your managers office was silent, the air in the car was filled with tension so thick, you could barely breathe. Your eyes were glued to the floorboard as your brain went over every possibility that could happen, once you arrived at the office space. "I don't see why we can't have the conversation now?" Seung Hyun spoke lowly, not taking his eyes off of Chris, as you took your hand in his, you took a deep breath. "This isn't a conversation that involves outsiders, it is a business meeting between a pop-star and her manager" Chris replied in a snappy tone, causing your head to shoot up quickly, giving him a glare, his comment being all you needed for that final boost of confidence to quit. "It's not a conversation at all, Christopher. I'm terminating our contract, I've spent my ten years with you, and I thank you for all you've done for me, but I don't want to be working for someone like you" You explained, trying to keep a professional tone, but it ended up just being laced in disgust, Chris scoffed, laughing loudly "Seriously? You get with a new guy and all of a sudden you're some badass now? Hey, Y/n, question, whenever he leaves you, like he will, what will you do, huh? You'll be nobody, with nothing" He spat, you squeezed Seung Hyun's hand tightly whenever you felt him tense, harshly, silently letting him know you could handle it. Seung Hyun couldn't help it, just like the first time he watched you fight with Christopher, he didn't like seeing someone disrespect you like that, especially with knowing how you felt about yourself.

"No. Christopher, you don't get to make me feel bad anymore, I might've played the part for half my life, but I am so fucking done. You are nobody, Christopher, understand that. You might've helped me get gigs, but that's all you did. You are nothing but the ugly fucking face behind my FORMER management team, I am the one who made myself, I am fucking everything behind my name!" You shouted as the car stopped, letting the three of you out in the parking lot, you couldn't hide your smirk as you spotted the paparazzi rushing over "Come on, let's go handle this inside, Y/n. Don't act like this" Chris growled, going to grab your wrist harshly, Seung Hyun quickly stepping between you two to stop him, instead grabbing Chris's shoulder/collarbone tightly "Put your hands on her, and You'll have a lot more than how she's acting to deal with" Your boyfriend growled back, shoving him back as he let go of his grip on your manager, not breaking eye contact as he stared Chris down, not ever backing down until you rested your hand on his chest, having him step away slightly "Thank you, love" You whispered before turning your attention back to Christopher "I should've fucking listened to everybody years ago, they all told me! Don't fucking sign her! She's got no talent, just a body! I thought I could make something out of that body! But nope! Nothing but a warm body" He seethed, you could feel yourself getting more pissed, but instead of blowing up, you just broke out into laughs "Really? Everybody told you that? Little 'can't pull a bitch' Christopher had so many people saying don't sign?" You laughed holding a hand over your chest "I'd say you're adorable, but the sight of you, physically makes me fucking sick" You spat, walking closer to him huffing "My lawyers will be in contact, in regard to anything else? Call Casey, or any other of MY staff" You added on before turning to walk towards the bus stop, you'd be damned if you took one of the cars driven by his drivers. "Oh! And Christopher?" You called sweetly before turning around "At least my warm body, has more talent in it than you'll ever have in a lifetime" You smiled, waving goodbye to him in a smartass manner before grabbing Seung Hyun's hand as you walked onto the bus.

The moment you sat down, you could feel yourself starting to have a panic attack, all of the adrenaline wearing off, making you realize how stupid it was to do that, and then leave him there to twist the story to paparazzi. "Hey, hey! That was amazing" He whispered, cupping your cheeks, forcing you to look at him "Personally, I would've liked to kick his ass, but, You handled that perfectly, my love" He whispered, pulling you into a hug as you continued to panic, trying your best to shield your face from any other bus riders, or paparazzi trying to get a picture of you through the bus window. "I just ruined my life" You cried, holding onto his jacket tightly "You didn't ruin your life, my love, nothings ruined, but, we did leave all of our luggage in the trunk of that car" He chuckled, watching as you looked at him, trying to keep a straight face before giggling loudly "Oh my god, we totally did" You laughed, hugging him tightly before pulling away, trying to read the map ahead to figure out what stop, you needed to get off at. "Seung Hyun...now what do I do?" You asked quietly, your knee bouncing slightly as you glanced at your hands, where your fingers were inter-laced tightly together "What do you want to do, my love?" he whispered, pressing your knuckles to his lips gently, his question made you really think, what did you want to do?

"I..I think I want to make different music" You whispered after a moment, looking up to meet his eyes, smiling as bit as he looked at you with such love and admiration. "Yea? What kind?" he asked softly, standing up as you made it to your stop, Seung Hyun following close behind you. "I think I want to just..write what I feel, and my real feelings, not the feelings people tell me to have" You explained, walking towards your neighborhood as you swung your and Seung Hyun's hands slightly. "Well, whatever you decide to do, my love?..I'm here for you, every step of the way" He whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist whenever you finally made it to your home. "I appreciate you, I swear, I appreciate you more than anybody" You whispered, cupping his cheeks gently as you smiled "It's really not a problem, my love. I love you so much, and I'm not going to let any person put their hands on you, especially not in front of me" He whispered, pulling you closer by your hips as he smiled softly "He wouldn't of actually grabbed me, I wouldn't of let it get that far" You giggled, caressing his cheek gently, smiling as he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead "I want to believe you...I really do, but, you are smaller than Ji" He joked, laughing as you shot him an offended look, giggling along with his laughs "Hey! I could kick anybody's ass" You smiled, standing up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek "Sure you can, my love, either way, I'll always be by your side for every fight" He whispered, moving a hand to cup your cheek as he pressed his lips against yours, you smiled against his lips as you moved your lips against his. You felt so powerful and enthralled with Seung Hyun, he was perfect, in every possible way, and him defending, and protecting you? Just made you even more in love with the man. As you slowly pulled away from Seung Hyun's lips, you never noticed the single hidden paparazzi person, hiding across the street, getting your entire interaction with Seung Hyun.

As you and Seung Hyun winded down from the very eventful day, you laid in your bed together, resting your head on Seung Hyun's chest as his arm was wrapped around you. As you laid there, you huffed loudly, your phone blowing up just like before, this time with a mixture of texts, calls, twitter notifications, instagram, news, all of it. Leaning over Seung Hyun's side, you grabbed your phone giggling as you felt him press his lips to your neck quickly before you laid back down on the bed, feeling your heart drop as you read the first notification on your screen.

'GLOBAL POP-STAR Y/N L/N SEEN SHARING INTIMATE KISS WITH CHOI SEUNG HYUN ALSO KNOWN AS T.O.P FROM K-POP'S BOY GROUP BIGBANG, OUTSIDE OF HER L.A. HOME'

Shit.

First story after the face reveal! I'm so excited!! What do you think lovelies? A lil angsty, but I promise next part with be so much more fluffier!! <333

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