#It's still gripping me several days later | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pin-k-ink · 3 months

Note

*slowly opening the door*

Brat tamer hoshina is hot

*leave after closing the door*

That's it

erupt // hoshina soshiro

tw ⇢ teasing, semi public handjob, cunnilingus, manhandling, edging, orgasm denial, nipple play, pet names, dirty talking, biting/marking, dry humping, unprotected sex, fingering, creampie

wc ⇢ 4k

a/n: this was way more tame compared to what i actually had in mind for him

"Miss me, big guy?" you purred, sauntering into Soshiro's office with a sly grin.

He glanced up from the stack of paperwork on his desk, brow creasing minutely before smoothing out into an easy smile that made your insides flutter. Soshiro pushed away from his chair, straightening to his full height with lazy grace.

"You know I always do, babygirl," he rumbled, slinging one arm around your waist to tug you flush against his powerful frame. "Though shouldn't you be down in the training halls right about now?"

You hummed noncommittally, allowing your palms to roam over the broad expanse of his muscled back and shoulders sightlessly. Soshiro's ruby eyes dipped lower, dark lashes fanning over those striking features as he drank in your exploration.

"What, you're not gonna try scolding me for skipping out again?" you prompted, unable to resist testing his patience. As expected, your boyfriend's lips twitched in restrained amusement.

"Now why would I do that?" Soshiro murmured, the barest hint of a growl lacing his deep timbre. "I know how much my girl loves finding new ways to get under my skin lately..."

His calloused fingertips trailed up the slender column of your throat, tilting your chin to better meet the heated intensity simmering in those blown ruby depths. You swallowed thickly, pulse kicking up at the scorching promise veiled there.

"In fact," he husked, mouth brushing yours in a tantalizing caress, "I'd say you're doing a bang-up job wearing down what's left of my patience, gorgeous..."

You couldn't quite bite back the tiny keen that slipped free at the implicit insinuation. Soshiro's arms tensed fractionally before relaxing - carefully maintaining control for now despite the blatant provocation. Undeterred, you slid sinuous hands up to frame his jaw and roll your body suggestively closer.

"I just can't seem to help myself when it comes to you, 'Shiro," you breathed against the seam of his lips tauntingly. "Always gotta make sure you're not forgetting about little old me amidst those boring obligations..."

Soshiro growled low in his chest at that, trapping your hips in his vise-like grip while slanting your faces closer still. "Trust me, baby...you're the one damn thing always at the front of my mind these days. Can't get a single second to stop thinking 'bout those pretty eyes and mouth, driving me crazy no matter what I'm doing..."

You didn't bother suppressing your full-bodied shudder at the heated, husky words or the way his slick tongue dragged over his full lower lip hungrily. Soshiro's smirk widened at the undisguised effect he had over you until you could taste the remnants of his smoky cedar scent every time you inhaled.

"You'll be the death of me yet, you know that?" he sighed with wry amusement, leaning down to nip delicately at the racing pulse in your throat. "My gorgeous, insatiable brat who loves tormenting me to distraction whenever we get five damn minutes together..."

Any cheeky retort you might've given dissolved into a guttural moan as Soshiro sealed his mouth over yours in a searing, lush glide of demanding tongue and rasping whiskey-rough lips. For several suspended heartbeats, he indulged your heated exploration and roaming hands alike - ravaging your senses until stars burst behind your fluttering lids.

Then, with the same maddening self-restraint, he pulled back - leaving you dazed and trembling in his sturdy embrace. Those blown ruby depths searched yours, darkening further with each shuddering drag of air between your damp, swollen mouths.

"Rain check for later, yeah baby?" Soshiro rasped out at last, punctuating his plea by trailing a lingering caress down the sensitive column of your spine that made you arch wantonly. "I gotta train with the new recruits soon...don't wanna be too distracted by your pretty teasing when they need me sharp as hell out there."

The blatantly husky promise laced through his words sent another frisson of liquid heat pooling low in your belly despite your burgeoning frustration. Soshiro took full advantage, ducking his head to ghost a searing glide over the thundering pulse at your nape until you were quivering against him helplessly.

"But don't you worry that sweet ass, gorgeous," he growled against your flushed skin with obvious relish. "You keep playing with fire like this...and the second I get you to myself again without any interruptions, you're gonna get burned nice and thorough as punishment."

His hand dipped lower to palm your ass with undisguised possession, blunt fingertips digging into the supple flesh possessively until your needy whine pitched higher. And despite the slick taunt slipping from your lips in a desperate bid for retaliation, Soshiro simply chuckled richly against the thundering hollow of your throat.

You'd won this round easily enough...but as you slunk from his office with wobbly steps and unsated ache still thrumming through your limbs, you couldn't quite contain the delicious shiver of anticipation for whatever retribution awaited after pushing the envelope too far this time.

Something told you the Vice-Captain's patience was finally wearing thin when it came to his favorite torment's endless tantrums.

Soshiro couldn't tear his gaze away as you sauntered into the briefing room, cursing the one who designed the combat suit, which clung to every lush curve and toned line of your legs like a second skin. The teasing sway of your hips made his mouth go dry despite his best efforts to school his features. Soshiro was achingly reminded of how those powerful legs had clenched around his waist, ankles digging into the muscles of his ass as you begged him to go deeper…

You offered him a coy smile as you slid into the seat directly beside him, back ramrod straight despite the blatant heat simmering in your hooded stare. Soshiro tensed imperceptibly when you leaned over, your shoulder brushing against his arm as you "casually" retrieved something from your satchel.

Except there was nothing casual about the way your chest pressed distractingly close to his space, or how you shifted to allow the slightly unzipped top of your suit to dip tantalizing low as you stretched. Soshiro swallowed thickly, desperately trying to avoid drinking in the glimpse of swells it afforded him.

But your smirk told him you knew exactly where his stare had landed in that split second lapse of restraint. Before he could formulate a response, Mina cleared her throat and the briefing visuals flickered to life, commanding everyone's attention.

For a few blessed minutes, Soshiro managed to retain his focus on the kaiju strategy projections. That is, until he felt your fingertips ghost along the inseam of his pants in a torturously light caress. Every muscle in his thigh flexed instinctively as you traced higher, higher, until—

You full-on palmed the rapidly stiffening bulge of his cock with zero shame, giving it an audacious squeeze at the same time. Soshiro's breath caught in his throat, stifling the guttural groan that tried to slip out as heat lanced through his body.

He shot you an incredulous glare, fighting the urge to look around and see if anyone else bore witness to your brazen move. But you simply blinked up at him with faux innocence, not retracting your wandering hand in the slightest.

In fact, you curled your fingers around the rigid length straining against the fabric, dragging the heel of your palm firmly along the underside from root to tip. Soshiro's hips jerked, digits biting into the armrests of his chair as waves of blistering arousal swamped through him.

At this rate, there was no way he'd be able to maintain composure and discretion through this whole briefing--not with you relentlessly stoking the fire coiling low in his abdomen higher and higher without pause or mercy.

You leaned over once more as if scrutinizing the holo-projections, using the movement as a guise to deftly part his suit and finally pull his throbbing cock free. Soshiro hissed sharply through gritted teeth, the soft heat of your palm wrapping snugly around his girth nearly making his eyes roll back.

"Easy, Vice-Captain," you murmured, dark lashes feathering your cheeks as you glanced over with a molten smirk. "This is just a little...preemptive disciplinary action for all the endless torment you've been putting me through lately."

Soshiro opened his mouth to protest--or maybe just to beg--but any sound was lost in his throat as you began to slowly, relentlessly pump your fist over his aching cock. He cast his gaze helplessly toward the holo-displays, jaw ticking as he fought with everything he had not to thrust shamelessly into your snug grip.

But with every whisper of your hand gliding through the tight ring of your fingers and over the dewy, precum-slick head of his cock, Soshiro could feel his control fraying further. The blistering pace of his pulse pounded in his ears, sweat beading along his hairline as you brought him swiftly to the edge of shattering apart right there.

Before he could lose that final thread, the briefing concluded and officers began shifting out of their seats. With one last teasing caress, you tucked Soshiro back into his suit and rose fluidly, wicked grin daring him to call you on your indecent act.

He simply stared at you, utterly stunned and still throbbing with unresolved tension in your wake as you sauntered out of the briefing room without a backwards glance--leaving a scalding trail of humiliation, arousal, and unbridled fury all tangled into one searing conflagration in your wake.

The gloves were officially off now and you knew it too. Which meant there would be no inch of respite, no corner of mercy left to grant when Soshiro inevitably cornered you and took his utterly ruinous reprisal for pushing him to that white-hot breaking point at last.

You wanted to play mad, delirious games of provocation and see them through to their most scorching, depraved conclusion? Well then, the Vice-Captain intended to show this insolent brat of his exactly what an unbound, merciless tempest of rapture their taunting had awakened.

Soshiro didn't bother with niceties or warnings the second you stepped out into the hallway, thinking you were in the clear. One powerful arm banded around your waist while the other hiked beneath your knees, bodily hoisting you up against his chest before you could so much as squeak in surprise.

You instinctively clutched at the hard planes of his shoulders, breath catching at the blazing intensity searing from his blown ruby gaze. Gone was the playful, laidback demeanor you knew so well - replaced by an utterly feral edge that made your pulse kick into overdrive.

"Soshiro, what are you—?!" you started, only to be silenced by the rumbling growl that vibrated against the sensitive spot below your ear.

"You wanted to play brat and tempt me past my limits?" he grated out, every syllable laced with dark promise. "Well congratulations, gorgeous...you've fucking succeeded."

With that, he spun on his heel and started stalking down the corridor with powerful, measured strides - utterly uncaring for the few scattered personnel you passed. If anything, the open lust and awe flickering over their features as you clutched his frame only seemed to embolden Soshiro's movements further.

You parted your lips to protest or possibly demand he put you down immediately. But one scorching look from those blown ruby depths was enough to rob you of words entirely. Instead, you swallowed thickly and twined your arms around his neck, silently riding out whatever inescapable storm awaited in his wake.

Because you knew this electrified, utterly uncompromising side of Soshiro could only mean one thing - he was well and truly done playing your endless games of teasing provocation. The object of his furious, razored focus now was to utterly decimate any shred of bravado you thought you still possessed until you existed solely to writhe and keen beneath his merciless devouring.

So when he kicked open the door to his private office and stalked inside, radiating that same lethally coiled intensity, you knew better than to offer even a token resistance. Not when Soshiro descended your trembling form onto the nearest surface with all the savagery of an apex predator finally unbound from its obstructing chains.

The second you were backed against the desk, Soshiro's intense gaze pinned you in place - all traces of his usual playful demeanor nowhere to be found. His jaw clenched as he raked his eyes over your trembling form with undisguised hunger.

"Did you really think," he growled lowly, "that you could pull a stunt like that and just waltz away scot-free, gorgeous?"

Before you could respond, Soshiro's hands clamped vice-like around your upper arms, hauling you flush against his powerful frame. You gasped at the sudden, unyielding grip and the delicious friction of being crushed against those steel bands of muscle.

"I love every infuriating inch of you," he rasped hotly against the side of your neck. "But that kind of bold disrespect? That earns you a very special sort of disciplining, pretty girl."

With that ominous promise, Soshiro wrenched you backwards to sprawl over the desk's surface. His weight settled over you instantly, hips slotting between your splayed thighs as he pinned you with his bulk.

"N-No...Soshiro, wait!" you tried breathlessly, even as a part of you thrilled at being so thoroughly overpowered.

He simply snarled softly in response, sealing his mouth over the thundering pulse at the base of your throat. Soshiro's hands roamed freely, bunching fabric and sneaking beneath layers to brand fiery paths along your exposed skin.

"Wait?" He pulled back to level you with a look of dark, molten promise. "And let you keep misbehaving without facing the consequences like a good girl should? I don't think so..."

With that, his palm cupped your jaw in a punishing grip, forcing your lips apart to admit the relentless velvet glide of his tongue in a searing claim. You moaned wantonly into his mouth, writhing beneath the solid weight pressing you into the desk's surface as your limbs wound around his neck and waist.

Soshiro groaned at the undisguised desire you had for him, hips grinding roughly against yours until your back arched in a perfect, mesmerizing curve. His mouth moved down the column of your throat, pausing briefly to suck a possessive bruise along your collarbone.

"So fucking sexy," he rasped, palming one of your breasts through your uniform. "My beautiful, insatiable brat who can't get enough of my cock even though she knows the rules..."

You whimpered when his fingers rolled the pert peak, tugging sharply until the sensation went from pleasant to overwhelming. Your nails dug into the muscles of his shoulders, but Soshiro seemed determined to drive you mad with desire.

He pinched and twisted the sensitive flesh mercilessly, relishing in your whimpers and pleas. When he was satisfied with his work, he finally unclasped the suit's front. The material parted like a curtain to reveal the flushed skin underneath, a sight he drank in hungrily as you let your suit fall to the floor.

"I've been waiting all damn day for this," Soshiro breathed, calloused fingertips trailing along the dips and curves of your figure until you were shivering with need. "All I could think about was how wet and hot and tight my girl's cunt was going to be for me..."

The vulgar word sent a bolt of liquid heat straight to your core, making your walls flutter around the emptiness within. Soshiro smirked at the way your face flushed, dipping his head to drag his tongue across the taut swell of your breast. His mouth fastened on the puckered bud, sucking the sensitive flesh until a breathy cry escaped your lips.

Your back arched involuntarily, pressing yourself closer to his teasing mouth. Soshiro chuckled, switching to lavish the neglected nipple with equal attention. Every lap and tug of his tongue elicited more delicious reactions, leaving you trembling and aching for release.

"S-Soshiro," you managed, voice cracking slightly as his thumb began rolling the other, spit-slick peak. "Please, I need more..."

He hummed in response, not ceasing the assault on your senses. Your eyes slipped shut, hips canting upward in search of any sort of friction to relieve the throbbing ache. When you felt the brush of his lips along your sternum, you were ready to beg and plead, anything to have him give you what you wanted.

But his hands were already busy, parting your folds with the pads of his fingers before slipping two digits inside the slick channel. The sudden intrusion made you gasp, muscles clamping around the thick intrusion. "Fuck, just as tight as I remember, gorgeous," he groaned, watching the way your expression contorted into one of pure ecstasy.

Soshiro leaned down to swallow your moans, tongue tangling with yours as he began pumping his fingers. You clung to him, fingers scrabbling for purchase as he expertly worked your pussy. He knew every spot to press, how to angle his wrist just so, until you were seeing stars.

When his thumb brushed over your clit, your hips bucked uncontrollably, nails scoring his shoulders through his uniform. You could feel his smirk against your mouth, but before you could muster a response, he was rubbing slow, purposeful circles.

Your thighs trembled as the pressure inside built rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter until you felt like you were about to burst. Soshiro's mouth latched onto your nipple, the rough texture of his tongue adding a whole new layer of sensation.

"I-I can't...fuck, I'm so close," you managed to choke out, back bowing as you teetered on the precipice.

The words were barely out of your mouth when Soshiro suddenly removed his fingers, leaving your walls clenching around nothing. You cried out in protest, opening your eyes to find him licking your arousal off his hand with an impossibly smug grin.

"What...the fuck?" you hissed, scowling at the smug bastard.

"Ah ah, none of that attitude," he said, leaning down to nip at your ear. "I did warn you, baby...you've earned this."

Your protests died in your throat as he sank to his knees, hands sliding up the back of your thighs until they hooked beneath your ass. The next thing you knew, Soshiro had yanked you closer, lifting your legs over his shoulders in one fluid motion.

Your mouth went dry as you felt his warm breath ghosting over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, the only warning before his tongue dragged across the length of your pussy. You cried out, hands fisting in his hair, trying desperately to hold on as he devoured you like a man starved.

The sensation was unlike anything else. Every swipe, every flick of his tongue was driving you closer to the edge, but just before you could get there, he'd pull back and start all over again. You could feel his smirk as you whined and pleaded for more.

"Beg," Soshiro commanded, punctuating his demand with a harsh suck on your clit that had your back bowing.

"Fuck...please," you gasped, hips canting toward his mouth. "P-Please, make me come. I'm so fucking close, please, I can't take it..."

Your pleas seemed to be working because Soshiro resumed his merciless attack, doubling his efforts. You were sure someone had to hear your cries, but right now you didn't care. All you cared about was getting what you needed, and Soshiro was the only one who could give it to you.

His mouth latched onto your clit, sucking hard, and that was nearly all it took. Just as you were about to fall over the edge, he withdrew, leaving you a whimpering, desperate mess. Your eyes shot open, glaring down at the infuriating man currently between your thighs.

"Soshiro, if you don't—"

He didn't give you a chance to finish the threat, surging up and kissing you hard. You tasted yourself on his lips, groaning into his mouth as his tongue tangled with yours. Before you could recover, his cock was already at your entrance, the blunt head sliding through the slick folds.

You broke the kiss, needing to watch as he slowly filled you. The stretch was borderline painful as he pressed into you, the thick length stretching your walls. It felt like an eternity before he finally bottomed out, his hips flush against yours.

Soshiro's forehead was resting on your shoulder, breathing labored as he tried to adjust. You squeezed around him, earning a guttural moan from the man above you. "Don't...do that," he panted, the strained command making your pussy flutter.

You did it again, this time rolling your hips for extra measure. This earned you a low growl, and then his hands were gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, pinning them to the desk. "Be a good girl," he warned, pulling out until just the tip was inside.

Your lips parted to deliver another retort, but the words died on your tongue as Soshiro slammed back into you, punching the air from your lungs. You were vaguely aware of the obscene sound of his balls slapping against your skin, but all you could focus on was the way he filled you so perfectly, stretching and claiming you with every thrust.

He set a brutal pace, his body practically draped over yours as he fucked you senseless. Your hands scrambled for purchase, fingers clawing at his shoulders, his back, his arms, anything to ground yourself as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you.

Soshiro buried his face in your neck, groaning as he rutted into you. Every thrust hit just the right spot, sending jolts of white-hot electricity through your body. You were so close, the familiar pressure building low in your abdomen.

"Touch me," you gasped, the words barely coherent as he continued pounding into you.

He didn't waste a second, one hand finding your clit while the other slid down to cup your ass. You were completely at his mercy, your entire world narrowed down to the way his cock stretched your pussy, the way his thumb rubbed tight, quick circles over your clit, the way his mouth found the sensitive spot below your ear and sucked hard enough to leave a mark.

The combination was too much, pushing you over the edge. Your back bowed as your orgasm crashed over you, sending waves of ecstasy through your body. Soshiro didn't stop, continuing to thrust and rub as you came around his cock, gushing and spraying his hand and your thighs with your juices, watching it drip onto his desk.

You were barely coherent as he followed you over the edge, spilling inside of you with a deep groan. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing hard as he filled you with his seed. You clung to him, fingers threading through his hair, riding the waves of bliss that washed over you.

Soshiro shifted his weight, his softening cock still buried inside you. His lips found yours, the kiss softer and sweeter than the ones before. You melted into him, relishing the way his body felt against yours, the way his lips fit so perfectly against yours.

Finally, he broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to see the lewd sight of his cum spilling out of your used pussy, a mix of both of your juices trickling onto his desk. His hand cupped your sex, fingers gathering the dripping mess and spreading it over your lower lips.

"Such a pretty little thing, my brat," he growled, voice ragged. "Gonna have to remind you to behave more often if this is how it always ends..."

You moaned weakly, feeling your walls clench around the thick digits lazily stroking through the creamy mess. He smirked, pulling his fingers free and bringing them to your lips. You eagerly opened for him, sucking them clean of the mingled release coating them.

Soshiro's eyes darkened as you twirled your tongue around his fingers, swallowing every last drop. When they were clean, he pulled his hand away, cupping your jaw. "Messy little thing too," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your swollen lips.

"Only for you," you replied, grinning.

His lips curled into a wicked smile. "Good, cause I'm nowhere near done teaching you a lesson, gorgeous. Now be a good girl and get on your knees for me..."

#kaijuu no. 8 x reader smut #kaijuu no. 8 smut #kaijuu no. 8 x reader #kaijuu 8 #kaijuu no. 8 #kaijuu 8 gou #kaiju number 8 #kaiju no. 8 #hoshina soshiro smut #hoshina smut #hoshina x reader smut #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina #hoshina x reader #soshiro smut #soshiro x reader smut #soshiro x reader

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

Note

What would happen if fast food reader tried to quit?

"I quit!"

Fourty minutes in - that's a new record. You're in the middle of a transition with a customer when the newest in a line of new hires comes storming from the back, apron and badge on hand.

"In the single hour I've worked here I've been yelled at till my ears bled, pelted with plastic balls, saw my reflection drown itself in the toilets, and had my wallet and keys stolen."

"I'd say you had an okay start...." You pause for a moment, centered on the task at hand. ".....So will that be cash or card?"

Your coworker stares at you like you've grown antlers which probably wouldn't be the weirdest thing they've seen, but still up there in rankings.

"You're staying?!"

"I can't quit."

Pity flashes briefly in their eyes. "Being jobless is better than whatever this is, but I'm sure there's something else out there."

"You don't understand. I literally can't quit."

Your ex-coworker scoffs. "I know the job market is pretty rough these days, but come on..."

Sighing heavily, you carefully remove your apron- folding and setting at atop the counter along with your hat and badge. Glancing apologetically at the customer, you mutter.

"I quit."

Really, it only took the first syllable for what happened next, but it felt weird not to finish the sentence.

The entrace doors swing to a loud shut. Music playing over the speakers descends into static. Caution tape peals and tears from the walls as management's door pries it from position. Darkness oozes from the cracks as a body presses against the frame. A hand reaches out - pointing behind you.

"So!"

Your ex-coworker and the customer scream. You look over your shoulder at your manager's grinning face as they grip your shoulders.

"Please don't touch me."

Your manager laughs. "Oh, you and your silly jokes. So, I hear someone isn't having the best time. Your little friend is free to go, but you are a valued member of our team, Y/n. Anything we can do to make you stay?"

"No."

Your manager hands their head in sadness, immediately perking back up as they remove their touch from your shoulders. "I see..... Well! We'll all miss you dearly, but we respect your decision. Allow us to give you a portion of your severance in hand as thanks for your service."

"Please don't."

"Lambchop!"

The lights flicker as the freezer door slams into the adjacent wall. They continue to flicker with every heavy click of hooves on titled floors. The hulking figure ducks beneath menu signs, narrowly missing its curving horns getting stuck as it rises to full high. The reds of it beady eyes cast you in eerie glow as it stares - pupils shrunk as it turns. It seems to blink away tears as it snorts.

In a flash, the store mascot picks your ex-coworker by the throat and slams them to down on the counter. It reaches for its belt, sorting the sharpest cleaver of its artillery and sporting it against its prey's neck. Your coworker shrieks and flails, ceasing all movement as warm blood runs down their neck. As your eyes meet, you remain perfectly calm - brows raised in a sort of "I told you so look".

They pathetically beat at the goat demon's arm. "What the fuck.... what the fuck?!"

Your manager clicks their tongue. "I do apologize, but it's in their contract. Money is important, but we value something more here. As payment for self-termination from our team, Y/n here is to receive the beating hearts of everyone in the building in loo of breaking our own unless... they've changed their mind."

You shrug. "Long as you're still cool with my taking cash from the registers."

"Wonderful! Lambchop, could you please let the spoiled meat go? I'm afraid they won't be any good trying to posion our dear Y/n like that and I doubt they'll even make it out of the parking lot."

Your coworker scrambles for the door as soon as they're freed. Their blood, which you refuse to clean, paints the front door seconds later. Your manager sighs.

"Now that that's out of the way, please see to comforting Lambchop. You know how they get when you threaten to leave."

You look over at the mascot would bleats softly as they knock their head gently against the side of yours. You pet their horns as you throw your hat back on.

"Come on, Choppy. You can feed me fries in the breakroom."

Lambchop throws you over their shoulder and heads for the back as your manager takes their leave as well - leaving the customer alone in the main lobby.

"They... never gave back my card."

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere blurb #yandere insert #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #Fast food reader

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jetii · 17 days

Text

Lessons of the Heart

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Reader / Crosshair x Teacher!Reader

Words: 15,738

Tags/Warnings: fluff, so much fluff, strangers to lovers, soft!Crosshair, grumpy/sunshine dynamic, awkward flirting, mutual pining, kissing/making out, Crosshair's anxiety, reader has long-ish hair, Tech mentioned briefly

Summary: Over a year after settling on Pabu, Crosshair is still struggling to adapt to life without having something to fight, or fight for. When Omega comes home with a bad grade, he jumps at the chance to help. He doesn't expect to become so invested, and he certainly doesn't expect to fall for his sister's teacher.

A/N: This one got away from me! But since the poll indicated I should keep this all one part, here you go. I really enjoyed writing Crosshair's perspective and all the little sibling moments in here.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

"Again, Omega? We talked about this."

Crosshair stops dead in his tracks, one boot in front of the other, and stares straight ahead. The basket of dirty clothes in his grip hangs limp by his side as he stands in the hallway, listening. Hunter and Omega are in the kitchen, the latter having just gotten back from another day at school, and they’re clearly talking about something serious.

Crosshair doesn't dare to breathe too loud in case he misses a single word. It's hard not to notice how Hunter's voice drops low when he speaks, trying not to be overheard by someone. By someone like Crosshair.

"I know, Hunter," she groans. He can hear the sound of something hit the counter, likely a datapad, and Omega shifts on her stool. "I tried on this one, I promise."

Hunter hums in a tone that makes it clear he's not quite believing her, and Crosshair's eyebrows raise a little in curiosity.

"Let me see, please."

"Hunter—"

"Omega."

She huffs, but a few seconds later, the datapad slides across the counter with a quiet squeak, and Omega's chair scrapes across the floor as she sits back down. "There. Happy?"

"Thank you." There's a pause, and Crosshair can only imagine the face Hunter is making as he reads whatever it is that Omega is showing him. His voice is stern, a tone that Crosshair's come to know as the sergeant, not the brother. "What is this?"

"I told you," she whines.

"She gave you a 50%?" Hunter's voice raises slightly. "Why would she do that?"

Omega scoffs. She's getting better at that. It almost sounds natural now.

Crosshair peeks around the corner, and sure enough, Hunter has the datapad in his hands, reading over whatever report the teacher sent back. Omega sits next to him, her shoulders slumped, arms crossed, and she's not meeting his gaze. Her backpack sits unzipped, its contents strewn out across the countertop and the stool where she usually sits.

He knows he shouldn't eavesdrop, but he's been doing it for so long he's not sure how to stop. And besides, the look on Hunter's face is one he doesn't like.

They'd all known going into this that Omega wasn't going to have an easy time at school. She excelled far beyond her peers in most subjects — math, history, science, languages, you name it — but there were two subjects where her intelligence failed her. Art, for one, because it was hard to grasp the concept of drawing something when she had no frame of reference. And then, of course, there was literature.

It's not her fault, and Hunter's well aware of it. Her education prior to the Batch adopting her was entirely focused on being the best lab assistant a Kaminoan could ever want. Over time, she soaked up anything they would teach her. Strategy, engineering, politics, even some basic medical training — Omega could do it all. But, as it turned out, there was a pretty big part of her education that she was severely lacking in, and it was starting to show.

Out of the three brothers, Crosshair was the only one who actually made a habit out of reading, though he'd never admit it to anyone. So he tried his best to teach Omega the concepts that her teacher was trying to instill in her, but sometimes it was difficult.

Literature was, by nature, subjective. It's always up for debate, and Crosshair found himself constantly questioning himself while helping Omega with her assignments. It usually ended with both of them frustrated, and Hunter or Wrecker stepping in to mediate the situation.

But still, Omega loved her classes, even if they were difficult. And Crosshair would never say it out loud, but he enjoyed spending time with her and helping her learn, even if it wasn't always the easiest.

It seemed, though, that her teacher didn't agree with his methods.

Hunter looks up from the datapad and places it on the counter. He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and reaches across to pat Omega's shoulder. "It's okay. We can work with this."

She shrugs him off and hops down from the stool, gathering her things and stuffing them into her bag. When she tries to reach for the datapad, Hunter snatches it up and holds it out of her reach.

"Give it to me, Hunter."

"No. We're going to talk about this, Omega."

"There's nothing to talk about," she mutters, trying again and failing to grab the datapad.

Crosshair takes that as his cue. He steps into the kitchen and drops the basket of laundry onto the ground by his feet, the force of the landing enough to get their attention.

"Oh, good," Hunter says, looking at Crosshair. "You're home."

"Yep." Crosshair pops the 'p' and folds his arms, leaning back against the wall. He meets Omega's eyes for a moment, and the look on her face is like a punch to the gut. She looks defeated, and it's not a look that suits her.

He hates seeing her upset, especially over something so trivial. It's a report, and not even a very important one. It's not like her grades in the other classes were suffering. She was passing every single one of them with flying colors. It's just this one assignment, this one class, this one teacher who seems hellbent on making her feel bad about herself.

Crosshair can feel the rage bubbling under the surface. How dare her teacher give her a score that low, and why? Because of his help? That was his job, and he was doing it.

"What's going on?" Crosshair asks. He's still staring at Omega, trying to get her to look up at him, to meet his gaze, but she's not taking the bait. She's got her arms folded, her shoulders tense, and her lower lip juts out as she pouts at Hunter.

"I told her we'd talk about it, and she doesn't want to." Hunter sets the datapad back down, sliding it across the counter.

Crosshair picks it up, glancing at the words on the screen before scrolling through the report. It's an analysis, one he's read a million times. He doesn't bother skimming it, because he already knows exactly what she wrote. It's a decent summary of the text, and her thoughts and opinions are written plainly and with an obvious understanding of what the author meant. It's not her fault her teacher wanted her to interpret the text the way a typical thirteen-year-old might, but that wasn't who Omega was.

He glances back up at Hunter. "And what is there to talk about?"

"Well, her teacher doesn't seem to agree with her analysis," Hunter says. He nods at the datapad in Crosshair's hand. "The comments."

Crosshair finds the section in question and reads over the notes. It's a lot of the same, just worded a bit differently, but one comment sticks out among the rest.

Please try to stick to the original meaning of the text, Omega. You did well explaining how your interpretation differed from the traditional meaning, but try to focus on the actual story.

It's the most condescending, ridiculous thing Crosshair has ever read, and he has to keep himself from throwing the datapad at the wall. He has to remind himself that doing that would only make Omega feel worse, and he doesn't want to upset her.

Instead, he takes a deep breath and hands the datapad back to her.

"This is stupid," he says, and he can see Hunter's eye twitch at his choice of words. "I read the text. I know what it means, and you know what it means. What, are you supposed to go through the entire thing and find the most cliche, obvious way of reading it?"

"No," Omega mumbles.

"Right," he agrees. "So then why is she giving you a low grade for your own thoughts and opinions?"

Omega shrugs. She's frowning, staring down at the datapad like it personally offended her.

And Crosshair knows that feeling, intimately. It's the same way he'd stare at the training room floor whenever a drill sergeant would call him a failure. It grates on his nerves, and he's half-tempted to find the teacher's home address and tell her just how wrong she is.

"But I'm doing it wrong," Omega says, her voice small and defeated.

Hunter is glaring at him now, but Crosshair can't find it in him to care.

"No, you're not," Crosshair insists, and he takes a seat beside her at the counter. "You did your research. You did everything you were supposed to, and you wrote a report about what you think it meant. What's wrong with that?"

Omega shrugs again, and he can see her hands balling up into fists.

The sight alone is enough to set him on edge. His entire body feels like a coiled spring, his muscles tense and ready to go. He hates seeing her like this. She's a bright kid, always smiling and happy, and to see her so down on herself makes him feel ill, and the last thing he wants is for her to think she's failed somehow.

Crosshair doesn't know why the teacher doesn't understand that, doesn't appreciate how amazing it is that a girl her age is even capable of writing a paper like this. Maybe, somewhere deep down, the teacher does get it. Maybe she's just pushing her own agenda. It wouldn't surprise Crosshair in the slightest, and the more he thinks about it, the more annoyed he gets.

"Maybe I should comm her," Hunter says, interrupting his train of thought.

Crosshair snaps his head around, glaring daggers at his brother. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't comm her." He pushes himself away from the counter and stands. "I'll handle this."

Hunter stares at him, one eyebrow raised, clearly confused. "Handle it?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna talk to her."

"Cross," Hunter says, but he doesn't finish his sentence.

Crosshair doesn't stick around long enough to hear the end of it. He's already halfway out the door, pulling his jacket off the hook, and slamming the door shut behind him.

Crosshair is pissed.

He doesn't often get angry. Annoyed, frustrated, irritated, yes. All those are familiar. But angry? Angry is not something he deals with. He can't stand it, the way his chest feels like it's about to explode, the way his heart rate picks up and his stomach feels sick. Anger makes him feel out of control, and the last thing he wants is to lose the little self-control he does have.

But now?

Now, he's angry.

Omega doesn't deserve to be treated like this. She doesn't deserve the way her teacher is talking to her, telling her she's doing something wrong when she isn't. If anything, the teacher should be grateful that Omega is even bothering to read the texts in the first place, that she's putting in the effort to analyze the meanings behind them.

He's so caught up in his own thoughts, he barely realizes how far he's gone. It's only when he spots the school, the tall building looming in the distance, does he realize he's halfway across town, and the sun is starting to dip below the horizon.

He slows his pace, taking a moment to catch his breath, and glances around. He's only been here a few times, just long enough to drop Omega off at the start of the day or pick her up after. He's never actually been inside, never even met a single one of her teachers, and he has no idea where her classroom even is.

A sign points him towards the front entrance, and he follows it. There's a handful of other parents waiting around the main entrance, all of them talking and laughing and joking with one another. A few of them glance his way, watching him curiously as he approaches the doors.

He ignores them, slipping inside and letting the doors close behind him. The hallways are quiet, and the sound of his boots against the tile echoes throughout the empty halls. He's not entirely sure where he's going, but he figures it can't be that hard to find her classroom.

It isn't.

It takes him less than a minute to locate her name, next to a door decorated with bright colors and images of what he assumes are the characters from a few of the stories they've read. He doesn't stop to admire the decorations, though. He doesn't stop at all, really. He pushes the door open and walks right inside, his eyes scanning the room.

The rows of chairs and desks are empty, but the one near the holoboard at the front of the room is occupied. There's a human woman sitting there, head bowed over a desk as she writes, and Crosshair strides up to her without hesitation.

"I want to talk about the report you gave Omega," he says, his voice tight, barely able to contain his anger. The woman looks up, clearly startled, and blinks owlishly at him.

The anger coursing through his veins suddenly tempers as he locks eyes with you, and he finds himself at a loss for words.

You're not what he was expecting, not in the slightest. He'd expected someone older, a woman with graying hair and crow's feet, maybe, one who's lived enough years to become old and jaded. Not this. Not you.

Your eyes are wide and bright, and the expression on your face is nothing short of adorable. He's not sure where that word came from, thrust to the forefront of his consciousness with the force of a speeder, but he can't deny that it's accurate. Your hair is tied up in a messy bun, a few loose strands hanging over your face, and there's a small, pink stylus stuck behind your ear. Your lips are slightly parted, a pretty shade of pink that almost matches the color of the pen, and he watches as they slowly form into a small 'o' as you process what's going on.

And then, just as quickly, your expression changes.

The adorableness falls away, and you straighten your posture, your brows furrowing and your lips pulling into a tight line.

"You must be Crosshair."

He frowns. "How did you—"

"She talks about you." You nod, glancing him up and down, and Crosshair has to fight the urge to shrink under your scrutiny. His mouth feels dry, and the sudden change in tone catches him off-guard. He was expecting defensiveness, maybe a little bit of anger. Instead, you sound...

Well, he can't really place it.

Crosshair nods, and he can feel his cheeks heat up. It's probably because he's angry. It has nothing to do with the way you're looking at him, the way your eyes rake over him, or the way your lips are curled up ever so slightly in a hint of a smile.

You clear your throat and gesture to the seat in front of you. He settles in it, not because you told him to, but because it seems like the polite thing to do. And because he wants to sit down.

Once he's seated, you fold your hands and place them on the desk, giving him your full attention. "I'm glad you're here."

That throws him. "You are?"

"Of course," you say, and the smile on your face is nothing short of dazzling. "I've been hoping to meet you for a while now. Omega speaks so highly of you, and I have to say, I was looking forward to finally meeting the man who's been helping her with her assignments."

And then, you do something Crosshair wasn't expecting. You extend your hand, offering a handshake.

He looks down at your hand, your fingers spread out, palm facing up. Your nails are painted a bright shade of pink, and there's a small smear of what looks like ink near the tip of your index finger. He glances up at your face, and you're smiling at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling a bit as you do.

His stomach does a weird flip, and his chest suddenly feels a lot warmer. He doesn't know what it is about your smile, your eyes, your voice, but it's...nice.

You're nice.

He doesn't take your hand.

You pull it away, but the smile doesn't leave your face. You don't seem offended or hurt, and you're still looking at him with an expression that can only be described as genuine kindness.

Crosshair swallows the lump in his throat. It's getting harder to stay angry, but he does his best to cling to his resolve.

"You graded her report wrong,” he hisses.

He expects you to get defensive, maybe even offended. After all, no one likes having their work challenged. But instead, you just sigh.

You look down at your desk, grabbing the stylus and twirling it between your fingers. The light reflects off the smooth surface, glinting off the tip of the tool, and the movement is almost hypnotic. He has to force himself to look away, to focus on your face.

For the first time since he barged into your classroom, he notices the tiredness in your eyes. It's subtle, and he doesn't think anyone else would notice, but the way your shoulders sag is a dead giveaway. You look exhausted, and Crosshair suddenly feels an odd pang of guilty for dropping in on you like this.

Your smile is tight when you look up at him again..

"I can explain my rationale, if you'd like," you say, and it's not a question. It's a statement.

He's not sure if he should be annoyed by that or not, but he nods regardless.

"Thank you."

You reach for a datapad laying haphazardly across your desk and tap away for a moment, before you hold it out for him to take. His fingers brush yours as he accepts it, and the touch sends a tingle up his arm. He tries not to show it, though, and busies himself by looking over the file as you speak.

"I know Omega has been struggling in my class, and I've done everything I can to make sure she has the support she needs. But, unfortunately, there's not a lot I can do when the curriculum is so..."

You pause, and he raises an eyebrow. "So what?"

"Well, it's not exactly tailored for her," you finish, and the small laugh you let out is strained. You shrug, a gesture that's supposed to be nonchalant, but he can see the tension in your shoulders.

He hums, nodding along as you continue to talk.

"I don't usually get students like Omega, you know? Kids who've already seen the world and have lived through so much more than their peers. And that's great, I mean, it's awesome. She's a brilliant kid, and she has such a great sense of herself, but I'm not equipped to handle a student like her."

Crosshair stops scrolling, his thumb hovering over the screen. He looks up at you, and you're staring back, chewing on your bottom lip.

He swallows the lump in his throat and nods. "So, what does that mean?"

"It means..." You trail off, letting out a sigh and shaking your head. You look away, turning to stare out the window behind you. The sun is setting, and the last rays of the day are reflecting off the buildings in the distance, bathing the room in an orange glow.

He watches the way the light illuminates your face, highlighting the curves and lines. It's not the first time he's found himself admiring the way someone looks, but it's the first time it's left him feeling like his heart's about to burst out of his chest.

It's not until you turn back to face him, the light fading, does he realize he's been holding his breath.

"I'm sorry, what was I saying?" you ask, and he's not sure if it's the lighting or his imagination, but he swears there's a faint flush creeping up your neck and cheeks.

"You were talking about the report," he says, his voice a little softer than usual.

You blink. "Oh, right. Of course." You clear your throat, sitting up a little straighter, and Crosshair has to remind himself not to lean in. "I graded the report based on how she did against the curriculum."

"Which is stupid."

"Yeah, I know." You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and Crosshair tracks the movement. "But it's how it works, unfortunately. We have a certain set of standards we have to abide by, and unfortunately, Omega's interpretation of the story was outside those standards."

"So? Her analysis is solid, and you know it," he says.

"It is," you agree, and the corner of your mouth twitches up into a half-smile. Your eyes are soft and full of understanding, and Crosshair has to look away.

"Her argument was well-researched, and her points were valid," you say, and it's with an apologetic tone. "But she also failed to follow directions."

Crosshair blinks.

That's not right.

"What?"

"She was asked to write a report on her thoughts and opinions on a classic work, and her interpretation of the story was excellent, but..."

"But what?" He knows he's being defensive, and he's not sure why, but the thought of you grading her unfairly, giving her a low score because of something that was his fault, makes his blood boil.

He takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair, folding his arms and forcing himself to relax.

You don't seem bothered by his attitude, though. In fact, you just smile at him.

"Well, she did a wonderful job of explaining her interpretation, but she failed to stick to the author's original meaning," you explain. "And while I understand why she was interpreting the text the way she was, and I'm happy she's able to do that, she was asked to write a paper specifically about the author's intended meaning."

Crosshair doesn't respond. He stares at you, his lips pressed together, trying his hardest to stay calm.

He has to admit, it makes sense. You're just doing your job, and the fact that you're even taking the time to explain it to him is a testament to how hard you're trying. But that doesn't make the situation any easier, and the disappointment in Omega’s voice when she'd shown him her report earlier that day is still fresh in his mind.

"It doesn't change the fact that she's brilliant," you say, interrupting his train of thought.

He snaps his head up, staring at you, and the expression on your face is almost...tender. You're not just saying it to placate him, or to try and get him to leave. No, you mean it. He didn't realize just how much you cared about his sister, and he's taken aback by how sincere you are.

"Omega is an incredibly intelligent young woman, and I am in awe of her every day." You lean forward, your elbows resting on the desk. You're smiling, but there's a hint of sadness in your eyes, and the way you speak, the words that spill out of your mouth, are genuine. "I can't begin to imagine the things she's been through, and I know that's not an excuse for how difficult I've been, but I'm sorry. I really am."

The anger he'd been holding onto melts away, replaced by a strange mixture of pride and confusion. He's proud that you care so much about Omega, and confused by how much it seems to affect him. He'd expected you to be stubborn, maybe even rude. But this? This isn't anything like the image he'd conjured up in his mind.

It's...

Nice.

"So, what now?" he asks.

"Well," you start, and the smile on your face turns mischievous, "you're welcome to challenge my grade. You can go to the school board, or we can go to the principal's office. You could even submit a formal complaint, or—"

"No," he interrupts, and his cheeks flush when he realizes how fast the word came out. He clears his throat, trying to compose himself, and says, "I meant, what do we do? To help her?"

"Oh." You blink, clearly surprised.

He's not sure why. Does he come off as the type of person who would file a formal complaint over a grade?

Probably, actually.

"Right," you say, and you take a moment to collect your thoughts. "Well, there's not a lot we can do. This was her last chance to make up for her last test score, and I'm afraid she'll have to repeat the class next year."

"There has to be something you can do," he insists. The words fall out of his mouth before his brain catches up, and he's already cringing internally at how desperate he sounds.

"Look," you sigh. "You're not the first parent to come in here at the end of the semester and ask me to raise a grade. But, if I raised Omega's grade, then I would have to raise the grades of everyone else who turned in a similar report. And I can't do that."

"You can't be serious," he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"I am," you say, an edge to your voice. "It wouldn't be fair."

"Life's not fair."

"Yeah, no kidding." You huff a humorless laugh. Your lips purse, and he can tell you're holding back a glare.

He knows he's pushing his luck, and he's starting to feel like an idiot, but he can't help himself.

"You can't honestly tell me that there's nothing we can do."

Your eyes flicker away from his, and your gaze drifts down to the datapad. He can see your mind working, can see the gears turning as you mull over your options. You chew on your lower lip, and Crosshair tries not to stare, but it's a struggle.

He's never met someone who could have him going from angry to intrigued in the span of a few minutes, and he's not sure why he's so fixated on you. Maybe it's the way you're not afraid to stand your ground against him, or maybe it's the fact that you seem genuinely concerned about his sister's wellbeing. Or maybe it's just the way you look, with your bright eyes and kind smile, and the way you're clearly trying your best to make a difference.

Whatever it is, it's working.

"There is one thing," you say, after what feels like an eternity.

"What?"

You take a deep breath, as if bracing yourself, and meet his eyes.

"I can't raise her grade, but I could offer her some extra credit, if she'd like. It's not a guarantee, and I'd have to see her improvement before I decided to give her the points, but it's an option."

"Yes." The word slips out before he can stop himself, and he mentally curses at his own eagerness.

You arch an eyebrow.

"She'd like that." He clears his throat and forces himself to sound casual, unbothered. "If you're willing."

"Of course." You smile at him, and the warmth that spreads through his chest is...weird. But not unpleasant.

He's not sure what he did to deserve that look, that smile, but he decides he doesn't hate it.

"I'll tell her," he says, and he gets to his feet.

You stand as well, and the height difference between the two of you is not lost on him. He has to look down to meet your eyes, and the way you have to tilt your head up makes him feel strangely amused.

He's used to looking down at people, and most of the time, it makes him feel superior. But right now, he just feels...

Well, he doesn't really know how to describe it.

"Thanks," he says, and the word sounds foreign on his tongue. It's not something he's used to saying, especially to a stranger. He's not even sure what he's thanking you for, exactly, but it feels appropriate.

"You're welcome," you say, a grin on your face that's almost too wide, too bright, too much. "Oh, one more thing."

He hums, and you take a step closer around the desk. You're a foot or so away from him, close enough that he can smell the perfume you use, the floral scent filling his senses. He swallows hard and tries to ignore the way his pulse is racing.

You're not making this easy for him.

"We had a chaperone drop out last minute for the end of the year field trip," you explain. "If you have the time, would you be interested in helping me out? We're going to the spaceport museum."

Crosshair has no interest in a bunch of kids running around a museum, and he's about to decline, but the look on your face stops him.

The pleading look in your eyes, the way your eyebrows are knitted together, the slight pout of your lips. He knows what you're doing, and he doesn't like it. He's not the kind of man who caves to pretty girls asking him for favors, and he's definitely not going to cave now.

He's stronger than this. He can resist the urge. He's a trained soldier, a skilled marksman, and he's not about to give in to the will of a cute teacher.

He's stronger than this.

"I'll do it," he hears himself say.

Fuck.

"Perfect." Your eyes light up, and your smile widens. You're practically beaming, and it's like looking directly at the sun. "I'll send you the details. Thank you, Crosshair. I'll see you soon."

"Yeah," he says, struggling to think of a clever response, but coming up empty. He doesn't have a chance to say anything else before you're practically shoving him out the door.

When he turns back to face you, he sees you wave, and then the door is shut, and you're gone.

The silence of the hallways is suddenly too much, and he has to force himself to take a deep breath.

He's in trouble.

The trip is a nightmare.

It's not your fault. If anything, you've gone above and beyond to keep the kids in line. Crosshair's watched you run after them, chasing them through the exhibit and reminding them that they're not allowed to touch things. And, for the most part, the kids are well-behaved. There are a handful of them that seem to have a problem listening, but you've got the rest under control.

He has to hand it to you. It's impressive, and a little endearing, how hard you're trying. He knows you're exhausted, can see it in the way your shoulders sag when the kids start talking over you, can see it in the way you sigh when one of them pushes their way past you.

But the kids are bored, and he can't blame them. It's a pretty lame field trip, and he doesn't really understand the point of bringing them here. What is a museum, anyway, if not a place to look at cool, old ships?

So far, all they've done is look at boring, historical texts, and listen to you drone on about the importance of space travel and the role its played in storytelling throughout the galaxy.

The whole thing is dull, and he doesn't have the patience for this. He wants to go home and do literally anything else, and if he has to listen to one more kid whine about being bored, he's going to scream.

At least, that's what he tells himself.

Really, he's not bored.

In fact, he's quite the opposite.

He's fascinated.

It's the way you speak, the passion and excitement in your voice. He finds himself watching the way your lips move, the way your eyes sparkle with amusement. It's the same sparkle they had the other night, when he'd confronted you in the classroom. It's the same one that's been haunting him for the past week, and it's the reason why he's stuck here, in a crowded museum, surrounded by dozens of prepubescent teenagers, all while his brothers are back at home, probably having fun without him.

And, as if things weren't already bad enough, you're wearing the cutest outfit he's ever seen. It's a dress, the kind that flows down to your ankles, and it's got tiny flowers all over it. Your hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, tied back with a pink ribbon, and it swishes back and forth as you walk.

Crosshair's not usually one for dresses, and he's definitely not a fan of the color pink. But on you? It works.

It's almost unfair, really.

No, it's extremely unfair.

He's spent the entire day stealing glances at you, trying his best not to be obvious, and Omega is catching onto him. She keeps smirking at him, her eyes narrowed, and he's pretty sure she's been teasing him. He'll get caught staring at you, and she'll elbow him in the ribs and wink at him.

It's annoying, and he hates it.

Not as much as he hates himself, though.

Because he knows better. He knows it's wrong, knows it's stupid, and yet, he can't seem to stop himself.

And the worst part is, you don't even seem to notice. You're so busy trying to keep the kids in check, to keep them from causing a scene, that you're not paying any attention to him. He's grateful for that, because he's not sure how he'd handle the embarrassment.

But, at the same time, he wishes you would look at him. Just once. Just a quick glance, a tiny smile, a small nod. Something.

He sighs.

It's been a long day, and he's tired.

He's standing near the entrance, keeping an eye on the group of students, Omega included. They're currently huddled around a holoexhibit, and he watches as you answer their questions and explain the significance of each ship. You have the patience of a saint, and he has no idea how you do it. The questions they're asking are ridiculous, and a few of them are just flat out wrong.

Crosshair's tempted to go over and tell them how stupid they are, to get them to give you a break, but he refrains. He's not supposed to be getting involved, after all. This is your job, and he's just here to make sure the kids stay safe.

But he's not about to let them cause a scene.

A flash of metal catches his attention, and he frowns. One of the kids, a Rodian, is standing on a platform, and his hand is hovering over a lever. Crosshair doesn't need to read the label to know what the kid is thinking. He's been watching this one eye this exact display all morning, and he's been waiting for him to finally get brave enough to try his luck.

The kid reaches out, and before he can touch the lever, Crosshair strides across the room. He grabs his wrist, his grip firm, and pulls his hand away. The Rodian squawks in surprise, and Crosshair glares down at him. He's not tall, not for a Rodian, and it's easy for Crosshair to loom over him.

"Don't touch that," he growls.

"I-I wasn't gonna," the kid stammers, and his eyes dart towards the exit. He looks ready to bolt, and Crosshair would find it funny if it weren't for the way the rest of the kids are staring at him.

"Bullshit."

"Language," you scold, and Crosshair turns his head to see you approaching him, an exasperated look on your face. You have your hands on your hips, and you look like you're ready to lecture him instead of the kid who was about to activate the simulator without permission.

He raises an eyebrow at you, challenging you.

"You shouldn't swear in front of children," you say, your tone matter-of-fact.

"Well, maybe they shouldn't touch shit that's not theirs," he retorts, and he shoots the kid a pointed look.

"Crosshair!"

You're glaring at him now, and he knows he should feel bad, but he doesn't. He can't. Your cheeks are flushed, and your brows are furrowed, and you're trying so hard to look stern and serious, but it's not working. He's not sure why, but seeing you angry is a lot more appealing than it should be.

It makes him want to push your buttons.

"If I catch you touching this again, I'll throw you out," he warns the kid, and he lets go of his wrist. "Got it?"

The kid nods, and then he's dashing back to the rest of the group, a look of fear on his face.

"What is wrong with you?" you demand, and Crosshair looks down at you, fighting the urge to smirk. You're still glaring at him, but the flush on your cheeks is a shade darker now, and he can't help but feel a little proud of himself.

"I'm just doing my job," he says, and the smirk he'd been fighting is making its way onto his face now.

Your eyes widen. "Your job is to make sure the kids are safe, not threaten them."

"I wasn't threatening him," he scoffs.

"Yes, you were."

"No, I wasn't."

"Yes, you—"

"Okay, fine, maybe I was. A little," he admits, and you shake your head, a huff escaping you. The glare falls away, and the look on your face is softer now, a little less annoyed, and a lot more amused.

"I had it handled," you tell him, and there's a hint of teasing in your tone now, too.

"Yeah, it looked like it."

"Crosshair," you warn, but the corners of your lips are twitching upwards, betraying the seriousness of your voice.

"What? I'm just trying to help," he says, and the shrug he gives is a little more smug than it should be.

Crosshair isn't trying to antagonize you, not really. He's just...testing the waters, he supposes. Seeing how far he can push you, seeing how much you can take before you crack, and he has to admit that you're holding up pretty well so far. Most people would've told him off, or stormed off by now, but not you.

No, you're still here.

You're standing in front of him, your arms folded across your chest, trying your very best not to smile at him.

You're enjoying this.

The realization hits him like a punch to the gut, and he has to force himself to breathe normally. He's not sure why that's such a revelation, but it is. You're enjoying his company, enjoying the back-and-forth, and it makes him feel lighter than air.

"Are you always this much of an ass?" you ask, and his eyes widen at the sudden vulgarity, but he recovers quickly. He likes it, actually. The bluntness, the honesty. It's refreshing, and a lot more than he expected from you.

Crosshair smirks. "Now who's swearing in front of children?"

"They're not paying attention."

"Oh, right, because the exhibit on the history of intergalactic trade is so exciting," he says, and you snort, shaking your head.

"Yeah, you're not wrong," you admit, and he chuckles.

"I know."

"Of course you do," you mutter sarcastically. But, the annoyance has faded, and there's a smile on your face as you turn to look at the kids, so Crosshair considers it a win.

You stand there, next to him, your arms folded, and you watch as the kids slowly make their way through the exhibit. They're talking among themselves, completely oblivious to the exchange between the two of you. It's a bit of a relief, because he's not sure what they would make of the fact that he's flirting with their teacher.

Is he flirting?

No, that's not right.

He's not flirting.

He's just being...friendly. He's just making conversation, and there's nothing wrong with that. It's not his fault that you're easy to talk to.

Omega is the only one looking in his direction, and he doesn't miss the grin on her face. He shoots her a look, a warning, and she winks at him. He glares, and she sticks her tongue out.

Great.

He's definitely going to hear about this later.

"You're not exactly what I was expecting," you say quietly.

Crosshair looks back at you, his heart skipping a beat when he realizes just how close you are. You're standing next to him, shoulder to shoulder, and you're looking up at him, the same sparkle in your eyes as before. There’s a hint of a smile on your lips, and you seem...pleased.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" he asks, and he's almost afraid to know the answer.

"A good thing, of course." You nudge him playfully with your elbow, and the touch sends a jolt of electricity up his arm. "I'm glad I was wrong."

"Yeah, me too."

You laugh at that, and he smiles, more than a little pleased with himself. It's an unexpected, but pleasant, reaction, and he finds himself wanting to make you laugh again.

"Anyway," you say, taking a step back. "Thanks for keeping the kids in line. I really appreciate it."

He shrugs. "It's nothing."

"No, really." You look up at him, your eyes bright, and you give him a sympathetic smile. "I know this isn't exactly what you signed up for."

"It's not so bad."

You raise an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

"I mean, it's boring as hell," he admits, and the way your nose scrunches up as you laugh is adorable. He clears his throat and tries to focus. "But it's not awful. The company's...bearable."

You tilt your head to the side, and your eyes narrow. "Thanks, I think."

"Don't mention it."

"So," you start, a slight hesitation in your voice, "does this mean you're not going to file a complaint against me?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Crosshair teases. The way your eyes widen is enough to make him chuckle. "But I guess I can let it slide. For now."

"For now," you repeat, and you let out a breath. You shake your head and look up at him, the ghost of a smile on your lips. "Well, I'll take it. Now, let's get back to the kids, shall we?"

"After you," he says, gesturing for you to lead the way.

He follows after you, and he tries his best not to stare at the sway of your hips as you walk. He fails, but only a little bit.

And, if he catches you glancing back at him every so often, well, he's not complaining.

Omega is practically bouncing on her heels as they make their way down the street, heading home from the school. She's talking a mile a minute, her eyes bright, and she's still somehow full of energy despite the long day they've had. Crosshair can't quite keep up with her, and he's having trouble focusing on her words. He has no idea how you manage to do this every day, and he feels a little bad for thinking that teaching is an easy job.

She's going on about the trip, how much fun she had, and she's not slowing down. Crosshair doesn't mind, though. He's content to listen to her, and he's not going to stop her from gushing about her day. He does the same thing for her he’s always done for Tech, humming and nodding in the right places, and he knows that it makes her feel good to talk.

Besides, he's too distracted by his own thoughts to focus on what she's saying.

He's spent the last hour replaying the events of the day in his mind, trying to make sense of everything. The way you'd looked at him, the way you'd laughed, the way you'd teased him. It's all a little overwhelming, and he's not sure how to process it.

Crosshair isn't the kind of person who gets all worked up over a pretty girl. He’s not even the kind of person who gets all worked up, period.

But something about you, the way you carry yourself, the way you smile, the way you look at him. It's different.

You're different.

He doesn't know what to do with that information, and he's not sure he likes it. For all he knows, you're just being nice, just trying to be polite so he doesn’t give you a hard time. It wouldn't be the first time someone's done that.

Crosshair has been told his whole life that he's difficult to deal with, and he's learned to live with that. He's used to people being afraid of him, and he's used to people not wanting to be around him. He used to take pride in the fact that people were scared of him, but lately, it's started to wear on him.

Maybe it's because of his brothers, the way they've started to change, the way they've become softer. Or maybe it's because of Omega, the way she looks up to him, the way she trusts him, the way she thinks he's capable of great things.

Either way, he can't deny that he's a little lonely.

And maybe a little curious.

"Crosshair," Omega says, and the sharpness in her voice catches his attention. She's stopped walking, and she's giving him a look, her eyes narrowed. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Huh?" He blinks, and then he frowns. "Yeah, of course."

"Then, what did I just say?" she challenges, her hands on her hips, her head tilted up.

He pauses, and then sighs. "No, not really."

"I knew it!" she exclaims, throwing her hands up. "You were totally spacing out."

"I was not."

"Yes, you were," she argues, and she crosses her arms over her chest. "What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

"Really? Because you look like you're thinking about something."

"Nope," he lies. Crosshair turns his head away from her, pretending to look at something else. There's a few vendors pulling in their stands in front of them, closing up for the evening, and he watches them, trying to avoid Omega's gaze. The florist is packing up his display, and the bright, colorful flowers draw his attention. He tries to ignore the fact that they remind him of your dress.

"Are you sure? You seem...weird."

"I'm fine."

"Are you thinking about the field trip?" she asks, and he can hear the smugness in her voice. "About Miss—"

"Omega." He snaps his head back towards her, his eyes wide, and he gives her a warning look.

"What?" she says, feigning innocence, and he groans.

"Just drop it," he mutters, and he turns to keep walking.

"I can't," she says, following after him. She has to jog slightly to keep up with his hurried pace, but it does nothing to deter her. "You like her."

"Of course I like her. She’s nice,” he replies. His tone comes out more defensive than casual, and he grimaces internally.

"No, you really like her."

Crosshair opens his mouth, ready to defend himself. There's no way that's true. It's impossible. He barely knows you, and you're just his sister's teacher.

Just a pretty, sweet, kind teacher who cares about her students and isn't afraid to push the boundaries to help them learn. Who didn't back down when he challenged her, and didn't hesitate to stand her ground when he was being an ass.

Who smiles at him and looks at him like he's worth something, like he's important, like he matters. Who laughs at his pathetic attempts at humor and makes him feel like he's not a complete waste of space, like maybe there's something worthwhile inside of him after all. Like maybe, just maybe, there's a chance for him.

Shit.

He shakes his head. "You're crazy."

"Am not," she insists, and she skips in front of him, forcing him to stop. "I won't tell anyone."

"Omega—"

"You know, she's single," she continues with a knowing, smug grin, and it reminds him so much of Hunter that he has to take a deep breath and count to ten before he can speak again. And even then, he's still annoyed.

"How the hell do you know that?" he demands, his eyebrows raised.

"I overheard her talking to the other teachers during lunch," she explains, and the smugness fades, replaced by a sheepish smile.

"You shouldn't eavesdrop," he chastises, though he's a little too preoccupied with the new information to put much force behind the words.

"I didn't mean to," she says with a shrug. "I was looking for her, and I found her, and they were talking about her, so..."

"So, what else did you hear?" he asks, trying his best to sound disinterested.

"Nothing."

"Omega," he warns.

"I didn't hear anything!" she insists, her eyes wide. After a beat, a smirk forms on her face, and her eyes narrow. "Why? Did you want to know something else?"

"No," he snaps, a little too quickly. "Just forget it."

"But—"

"It's not important," he says, cutting her off as he steps around her and continues walking. He hears her groan in frustration, and he smirks to himself. Serves her right.

"Wait!" She hurries after him, her hands gripping the strap of her bag tightly as she catches up. She's practically running now, trying her best to match his long strides, and her breathing is a little heavier than normal. "Crosshair, slow down."

"No."

She huffs. "I'm just saying—"

"Omega, enough."

"I think she likes you, too."

Crosshair stops walking abruptly, and Omega almost collides with him. He turns his head towards her, his eyebrows raised, and she takes a step back.

"What makes you say that?" he asks. He knows he's being foolish, letting her bait him like this, but he can't help himself. The hopeful note in her voice is hard to ignore, and he's suddenly feeling a lot more optimistic than he should.

"Because she kept looking at you," she explains.

"No, she didn't."

"Yes, she did," she argues. "She was looking at you, like, the entire time. The whole trip. I'm surprised you didn't notice."

"You're exaggerating," he mutters, trying to hide the flush in his cheeks.

"I'm not," she says, shaking her head. "I was keeping track."

"You know, if you paid half as much attention to your schoolwork as you do to gossiping, neither of us would be in this mess," he retorts.

"Hey! That's not true," Omega pouts. "I learned everything I need to know about intergalactic trade from Tech. I'm good."

Crosshair can't help but smile at that, and Omega grins back at him. They start walking again, this time a little slower, and she reaches for his hand, grabbing hold of his fingers.

"But you like her, right?" she asks, tilting her head up at him.

"She's...nice," he admits, and the look on her face tells him that's not enough. He sighs and rubs the back of his neck with his prosthetic hand. "I don't know. Maybe."

"You should ask her out."

"Yeah, I don't think that's a good idea," he mutters, shaking his head.

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I barely know her."

"So? Just get to know her," Omega says, and he sighs.

"It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"Because..." Crosshair hesitates, trying to think of a reason. The truth is, he's never really had to deal with this kind of situation. He's not exactly the best when it comes to social interactions, and his history with romantic relationships is...limited. It's not something he's ever bothered to think about, but now that it's staring him in the face, he feels woefully unprepared.

"What if she says no?"

"Well, what if she says yes?"

Crosshair doesn't respond. If he's being honest, he hadn't even considered the possibility of you saying yes. He'd been so focused on the negative outcome, the embarrassment, the awkwardness, that he'd completely forgotten about the other side of the equation. What if you did say yes? What would he do then? Would he be happy? Relieved? Or would he be even more nervous than before?

"I don't know," he finally admits.

"You should ask her," Omega urges. "At least, think about it."

"Maybe," he says, and she frowns, clearly not satisfied with the answer. He sighs, and then gives her hand a squeeze. "I'll think about it."

"Okay," she grumbles, and the two of them continue walking, falling into a comfortable silence. It's quiet between them all the way to the front door, and he's almost home free, his hand hovering over the sensor pad, when Omega speaks up.

"I'm just saying," she starts, and he groans, "you should go for it."

"I'm done having this conversation," he grumbles as he tugs her inside, slamming the door behind him. He can hear voices coming from the kitchen, and he freezes, holding fast to her wrist.

"You have to promise not to tell them."

"Okay, okay, I promise," she says, rolling her eyes, and she tugs her arm away.

"No, not okay," he says. "If you tell them, I'll kill you."

"Okay, fine," she huffs, and he narrows his eyes at her.

"I'm serious," he says, his tone low, threatening. It doesn't work on Omega, not anymore, and she just looks up at him, unbothered.

"So am I."

"Fine." Crosshair sighs, deflating, and then, before he can stop himself, the words are spilling out. "So, what do I do?"

Omega's face lights up, a grin so wide it nearly splits her face in two, and he regrets the question almost instantly. "I'll help you."

"What?"

"I'll help you," she repeats.

"You're kidding," he deadpans.

"No," she says, shaking her head. "I have a great idea. Trust me."

"Omega—"

"I promise, you won't regret it," she says, and then, she's gone, dashing off towards the kitchen where Hunter and Wrecker are arguing about dinner.

Crosshair watches her go, and then, with a groan, he drags his hand over his face.

What has he gotten himself into?

The next few weeks are a blur. Omega's been keeping him busy, asking him to help her with homework, walking her to and from school, and the whole time, he's wondering when she's going to bring up her big plan.

She managed to get a score high enough on her extra credit in your class to pull her grade up, and Hunter nearly fell over when he found out. You'd sent a letter home with her, letting them know how impressed you were, and both Hunter and Wrecker wouldn't shut up about it for days. Omega's been bragging about it, too, and Crosshair's heard her go on about how smart and amazing and brilliant and perfect you are, over and over again.

She hasn't brought up her big plan again, though, and Crosshair's grateful. She has, however, started dropping hints here and there, meddling in ways that she shouldn't, and it's getting old, fast.

He's already had to stop her from inviting you over for dinner, twice, and he's not sure how much longer he can keep her from blowing his cover. More than once, Omega's forgotten her datapad at home, and he's had to drop everything to run it to the school. It's a pain in the ass, but at least it gives him an excuse to see you.

And he sees you, a lot more than he should.

He tries not to get too excited about it, tries not to think too hard about what it means, but it's impossible. Omega's made it her mission to get the two of you alone together, and he can't help but feel a bit like a pawn in her scheme, one that she refuses to share with him. Not that it matters, because it's working.

You're talking to him.

In fact, the two of you have spent so much time together over the last few weeks, that it's almost weird when he doesn't see you. Every morning, when he drops Omega off at school, he makes sure to walk her inside. You're always there, and he doesn't miss the way you look up when the door opens or the way you smile when you see him. You're usually sitting at your desk, grading papers, or helping a student, and he's quick to leave before anyone notices how long he's standing there.

But every once in a while, when he's lucky, you're standing at the front of the room, and the two of you are able to exchange a few words. It's nothing too special, and it's not as if you're exchanging life stories or anything, but it's enough. It's more than he could've hoped for, and it's better than the alternative, which is absolutely nothing. He even brought you coffee one day, after you'd stayed late to work on a project with Omega, and you'd blushed.

Blushed.

For him.

Crosshair would be lying if he said he hadn't enjoyed that. It's nice, having someone to talk to, and it's nice, being able to see you smile. Even if it's only for a minute or two, and even if his brothers are constantly giving him shit for it.

He's not an idiot. He knows they're all watching him, waiting to see how this plays out, and he's doing his best not to give them any ammunition. Omega's already told him, several times, that they're rooting for him, and he's not sure how to feel about that. The last thing he needs is everyone butting into his business, and he's hoping that Omega will keep her word and keep her mouth shut.

He's not going to say anything, not until he's absolutely sure. And, even then, he'll probably wait. The only problem is, he's almost certain he's run out of time.

Crosshair has been keeping a mental countdown, counting down the days until Omega's finished with school, and it's come up a lot sooner than he'd expected. The semester is over, and it's officially summer vacation, which means you're no longer Omega's teacher. And with that, comes an end to whatever small shred of hope he'd had that something might happen, that whatever plan Omega had in mind would work, and the two of you would end up together.

Which is fine.

Really, it's fine.

He's not hurt. He's not disappointed. He's not anything. He doesn't care, not one bit, and he definitely isn't sulking, not at all, because that would be ridiculous.

It's just a crush. A silly, stupid, fleeting thing, and it's not worth getting upset about. It's not like anything would've happened between the two of you. You're way out of his league, and he knows that.

But still.

He can't deny that he misses the daily interaction, the brief exchanges, the occasional smiles. He can't deny that he'd enjoyed it, and now that it's over, he feels a little lost.

He jumped at the chance to go to the summer festival with everyone, partly because he didn't want to be home alone, and partly because he was hoping to run into you there. Which is stupid, and foolish, and pathetic, but he can't help himself. He'd overheard you telling Omega that you'd be there, and it's the closest thing he has to a sign, and so, he's taking it.

Besides, Hunter practically ordered him to go, so it's not like he had a choice.

So, here he is, standing off to the side, watching the rest of the family enjoying themselves. It's still early, and the real festivities won't begin until the sun starts to set, but everyone is already in a good mood. He tries his best not to ruin it with his attitude, but he knows he's doing a shitty job of it, and it doesn't help that they're teasing him relentlessly.

"You're moping."

Crosshair sighs and rolls his eyes as Hunter bumps him with his elbow. He's been standing next to him, staring out into the crowd, and he doesn't turn his head when his brother speaks.

"No, I'm not," he replies.

"Yes, you are," Hunter says. He takes a sip of his drink, and then, nudges him again. "Is this about your girlfriend?"

"Shut up," Crosshair grumbles, and he elbows him back, a little harder than necessary. Some of Hunter’s drink spills, and he feels a small flash of satisfaction.

"Ow."

"Leave me alone," he says, and Hunter snorts.

"No, I'm not gonna do that," Hunter says, a hint of amusement in his voice. "It's too easy."

Crosshair groans, and turns his head away, trying his best to ignore him. It doesn't work.

"Come on, just ask her out," Hunter urges, and Crosshair glares at him.

He can hear Wrecker snickering behind him, and when he turns around, the look on his face tells him everything he needs to know. He must've been listening in the whole time.

"What's the worst that could happen?" Hunter continues.

"I could make an idiot out of myself," Crosshair replies.

"So? You already do that every day," Wrecker jokes, and he winces when Hunter smacks him.

"Not helping," Hunter mutters, and Wrecker just shrugs.

"Look," Hunter says, turning back towards him, "if she says no, at least you'll know, and you can stop worrying about it."

Crosshair doesn't respond, too caught up in the sight of you weaving your way through the crowd. You're wearing a sundress, a cute little thing that ends just above your knees, and a flower crown sitting atop of your head, and he can't take his eyes off of you.

You're walking with Omega's art teacher, a Rutian Twi’Lek laden with jewelry, talking and gesturing animatedly. She has her hands full with decorations for the festival, and you're trying to help, but she keeps shooing you away. He can see the pout on your face, and he can't help but smile, just a little, and then you turn your head and catch Crosshair staring.

He doesn't have time to look away.

He doesn't even have time to try.

Instead, he watches, frozen, as your eyes lock with his. Your face lights up, a bright smile on your lips, and you wave at him. He feels his hand lift in acknowledgement despite himself, and he can't stop the way his lips quirk up into a half-smile.

He can see Omega trailing after the two of you, a stack of posters in her hands, and she's saying something, but he can't hear her. The only thing he can hear is his heart pounding in his ears, and the only thing he can see is you, your face flushed, and a look in your eyes that's far too soft for him to know what to do with.

"Wow," Hunter says, breaking the spell, and he blinks, the image of you in front of him fading, replaced by his brother's annoying smirk.

"What?"

"I knew you liked her, but I didn't know it was this bad," Hunter says.

"Oh, come on," Wrecker teases, a big grin spreading across his face. "He's in love."

Crosshair can't stop the growl of frustration that leaves him, and the sound makes his brothers laugh. He wants to shove them, or punch them, or something, but he doesn't have the chance.

You’re walking over.

You're heading in their direction, and Crosshair panics, unsure of what to do. He doesn't know how to be anything other than aloof and rude, and he's afraid he'll say something stupid and embarrass himself. He doesn't want to mess this up, and he's terrified he'll ruin everything if he says the wrong thing.

He looks at Hunter, a desperate plea in his eyes, but his brother is no help. Instead, he just smirks and shrugs, nudging Wrecker.

"We should go check on Omega," he says, his tone is casual. "C'mon, Wrecker."

Wrecker doesn't argue, and he doesn't hesitate, following Hunter without a word. Before he can blink, they're gone, and it's just the two of you. Crosshair's not sure if it's better or worse.

"Hi," you say, your voice soft as you come to a stop in front of him.

Your cheeks are flushed, and you're fidgeting. He finds it endearing, and the fact that you're just as flustered as he is makes him feel a little bit better.

"Hey," he says, his voice coming out a bit raspier than he'd intended. He clears his throat, and then nods towards your companion. "Are you having fun?"

You tilt your head and look back over your shoulder, and Crosshair doesn't miss the slight roll of your eyes.

"Yeah, I'm having a blast," you deadpan, and he can't help but laugh. He's grown used to your particular brand of sarcasm over the past few weeks, the kind that only seems to come out when he's around, and he's come to enjoy the way it sounds when it's aimed at someone else.

"Don't worry," he says, "we can be miserable together."

"Well, that's not very festive," you reply, and there's a teasing edge to your voice. "What did the festival ever do to you?"

"Nothing, I just don't like people."

"Fair enough," you say with a laugh. "So, what brings you here?"

"Omega."

"Ah." You nod, and a soft smile forms on your face. "Of course. She told me you'll be helping us out later. Thanks, by the way."

Crosshair raises an eyebrow.

This is news to him.

"Uh, yeah," he says slowly, his eyes narrowing. "What did she say, exactly?"

"She said you'd be helping with the games." You tilt your head and look up at him, confusion in your eyes. "Is that...not true?"

He stares back at you, unsure of what to say. He's never agreed to anything like that, and the idea of working with children is...unappealing, to say the least. He can't imagine why Omega would've said that.

The realization hits him, and his eyes widen.

That little brat.

She set him up.

She's been planning this, and he was too distracted with moping to realize it. He'd let her walk all over him, and now, he's going to have to play along. Because there's no way in hell he's going to tell you the truth, not now, not when you're looking up at him, expectant and hopeful.

"Yeah, no," he lies, shaking his head. "She's right. I'll be there."

"Great," you say, and he's pretty sure you actually mean it. "I'm running the scavenger hunt. And, if you wanted, I could use a partner."

Crosshair blinks, brain stuttering over the word partner, and he must look like an idiot, because you start to backtrack.

"But, you probably have better things to do. I'm sure there's someone else who would love to help. I just thought—"

"No, no, I'll help," he interrupts, and you stop, giving him a grateful look.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Your smile is so bright, so radiant, that it makes his heart ache. He can't remember the last time someone was this happy to spend time with him. He's not used to feeling wanted, and the knowledge that you enjoy his company fills him with a sense of pride he's not quite prepared for.

"But," he starts, his eyebrows raised, "you owe me."

"I know, I know," you say with a laugh. "Anything you want."

"I'm serious," he insists, though the smirk on his face betrays his words. "I'm doing this under duress. I'm being held against my will."

"I'll make it worth your while," you tease, and the way your eyes flash, the playful look in them, is almost enough to make him forget how to breathe. He tries not to focus on it, tries not to dwell on the way his mind immediately goes to some very interesting places, but it's a losing battle. He's sure his cheeks are red, and the knowing look in your eyes doesn't help.

"Uh," he says, his voice strangled, and he has to clear his throat again before he can continue. "Good.”

"Good," you repeat, and the smile on your face turns shy. You take a step back, and then another, and the look in your eyes is...different, softer, and a little more vulnerable. It makes his stomach twist. "Well, I should probably go. But, I'll see you later, right?"

He nods, and you grin. You wave goodbye and walk away, and Crosshair watches you go, a small smile on his face. He shakes his head and rolls his eyes at himself, but he can't stop smiling. It's a dumb thing to be happy about, but it's nice, knowing that you're looking forward to seeing him. And the way you'd looked at him, the hopeful look in your eyes, the shyness, the blush on your cheeks. He can't stop thinking about it.

It's just a crush, and it'll go away eventually. It's just a silly little thing, and it'll fade away. You'll be gone, and he'll be left behind, and everything will go back to normal. He'll get over it.

But, as he stands there, watching you laugh and smile and talk to the others, the sight of you making him feel things that he's not quite ready to admit, he can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he doesn't want it to.

By the time the sun sets, the courtyard is packed. The vendors have all set up their stalls, the games have begun, and the music is blaring. Crosshair stays close to Wrecker, using his bulk to help him avoid the crowds, and does his best to ignore the children running around. Wrecker's not much help. He keeps wandering off, getting distracted by the food or the games, and Crosshair is left to wander around alone.

It's not all bad, though.

He's able to keep an eye on Omega, and that's enough to keep him occupied. He knows she can take care of herself, but it's hard for him to relax when she's not within eyesight. And, every once in a while, you catch his eye. You're busy, running from place to place, and he knows that you don't have time to stop and chat, but the small, shy smiles that you give him are enough to put him at ease.

It's a nice distraction, and it helps him stay focused, which is a good thing. Because, before he knows it, it's time for the scavenger hunt. Omega drags him over to the table where you’re waiting, and he can't help but smile at the enthusiasm in your voice.

"I'm so glad you could make it," you say, and the look in your eyes tells him that you really mean it.

At his side, Omega looks far too proud of herself. Crosshair narrows his eyes at her, and she gives him a toothy grin in return.

"Me too," he mutters, and you laugh.

"Come on," you say, grabbing a basket from the table. "Let's get started."

Crosshair nods, and he stands back as you hand out datapads and explain rules to the crowd that’s formed around them. He's not paying attention. He's watching you, listening to your voice, enjoying the way you look in the light of Pabu’s setting sun, and it's a nice moment. That is, until Omega elbows him, and he startles.

"What?"

“She likes you," she whispers conspiratorially, her hand cupped over her mouth.

"Shut up," he hisses.

Omega giggles, and he glares at her, but it does nothing to wipe the smirk from her face.

"I'm not talking to you," he growls.

"Yeah, you are," she says, her voice laced with amusement. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Before he can say anything, you announce that the scavenger hunt has started, and the kids are off. Omega joins the crowd, and soon, she's lost among the swarm of children running past them. Crosshair watches her go, his eyebrows furrowed, and then, he turns his attention to you.

You're smiling, waving at the kids, and he can't take his eyes off of you. This was a bad idea. He should've said no. He should've done something, anything, but instead, he'd let himself get roped into helping, and now, he's standing here, watching you, wishing he had the courage to just say something, and it's driving him crazy.

"Thanks again for helping," you say, turning towards him, and he startles, caught off guard.

"Uh, yeah, no problem," he replies. "I was going to be here anyway."

"Yeah, Omega mentioned that."

Crosshair nods, and the two of you settle into an awkward silence. He shifts on his feet, his hands shoved in his pockets, and he stares out into the crowd. You're quiet beside him, and the longer the silence lasts, the more uncomfortable he becomes.

It's not like you to be so quiet. Usually, you're chatting his ear off, asking him questions, trying to get him to open up, and the fact that you haven't said a word is concerning. You’re shuffling datapads and small trinkets around as if looking for something to keep yourself busy, and he's starting to wonder if he's done something wrong.

He's trying not to worry about it, but the longer the silence stretches, the more his mind races. He knows he's overthinking, and the more he thinks about it, the more anxious he becomes.

It's just a crush, he reminds himself.

He doesn't want anything from you. He doesn't need anything from you. He doesn't expect anything from you. But, as he stands there, trying not to dwell on the way his heart is racing, the way his stomach is twisting, the way his breath catches in his throat, he can't help but feel like a bit of an idiot.

He can't help but wonder if you've figured him out.

Maybe you know, and that's why you're acting so strange. Maybe you can tell, and you're waiting for him to make the first move. Maybe you're nervous, or maybe, you just don't want him to say anything, because you don't feel the same way, and that's why you're keeping your distance. He knows that's a long shot, but it doesn't stop his brain from fixating on the thought. He can't help but think about how much worse it'll be if you do know.

So, he stands there, and the silence stretches on, tension thick in the air as you cast glances at each other.

It's not until a couple of kids come up and ask for help with the next clue that the tension breaks.

The two of them are young, maybe eight or nine, and they're struggling. They're a cute pair, brother and sister, and they remind him a lot of his siblings. Their parents are nowhere in sight, and they're arguing, bickering, and it’s not until you crouch down to speak to them, taking the datapad from the boy's hands, that they calm down. You explain the next clue to them, and Crosshair watches as the siblings nod, their faces lighting up with understanding.

He wants to keep watching you, but a second pair of kids approach, and then a third. He can see you’re starting to get overwhelmed, and so he picks up a datapad and gets to work.

Soon, the two of you have a rhythm. You help the younger kids while he helps the older ones, and the system seems to work. He finds himself enjoying the task, and he doesn't even realize that an hour has passed until the scavenger hunt is over and the sun has nearly set. The two of you gather up the datapads, and the kids line up in front of the table, ready to receive their prize.

They're all so excited, and they're smiling and laughing and cheering, and it's a nice sight. Crosshair has never been the biggest fan of children, but these ones aren’t so bad.

He doesn't even realize that he's smiling until Omega runs back over to him, her arms outstretched, and she flings herself at him. She grabs hold of his waist, and she squeezes him tight.

"Thanks for helping," she says, her voice muffled, and he has to swallow past the lump in his throat.

"No problem," he replies as she lets go. She's still grinning at him, her eyes bright, and he can't help but reach out and ruffle her hair. "How'd you do?"

"I won," she boasts and slaps his hand away, and he rolls his eyes, unable to keep from smirking.

"Of course you did."

"It wasn't easy," Omega continues, her eyebrows raising as she speaks slowly. "But I had a great partner."

Crosshair sighs, and he gives her a knowing look, which she ignores.

“Don’t screw this up,” she whispers, and then, before he can say anything, she turns on her heel and heads back towards the others.

You're still sitting at the table, and he takes a moment to compose himself before heading over. You're organizing the datapads, sorting them into a bag, and he takes a seat next to you.

"Thanks for the help," you say, and he nods, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Not a problem."

"You did a good job," you tell him. He ducks his head, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as you continue, “You’re good with them.”

"Well, you're welcome," he says, his voice low. "I have a lot of practice dealing with little brats."

You laugh, and the sound makes his heart swell. You continue sorting the datapads, and he watches you work, his eyes trailing over your features. It's not until you clear your throat that he realizes how long he's been staring.

"So, um," he begins, trying not to think too hard about the fact that he's been caught. "I was thinking..."

You look up. "Yeah?"

"You owe me."

"Huh?"

"You said anything I want," he explains, and the confusion on your face clears.

"Right," you reply, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. You stop what you’re doing and turn to face him fully. "And what would that be?"

"Dinner.”

"Dinner?" you repeat, your eyebrows raised, and he nods.

"With me."

"Are you asking me on a date, Crosshair?"

"Yeah," he says, and his heart leaps into his throat when your eyes light up. "I'm asking you on a date."

"Oh," you say, a soft smile on your lips, and he can't help but mirror it. "Well, how could I say no?"

"Great," he replies, and then, after a pause, he asks, "is that a yes?"

"Yes, of course it's a yes,” you chuckle. You shake your head, and then, a teasing smile forms on your face. "Did you think I was gonna say no?"

"Uh," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was prepared for it."

You snort, and the laughter that follows is almost enough to distract him from the way his cheeks are burning. Almost. He looks away, embarrassed, but he can't help but smile.

"Sorry," you say, stifling your laughter, and he shrugs.

"It's fine."

"No, no, I'm not laughing at you," you say. You're biting your lip, trying to stop yourself from smiling, and his eyes narrow. "It's just..."

"What?"

"This whole time," you begin, and you have to bite back another laugh. "I've been trying to figure out how to ask you out."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah," you admit, and the shy smile on your face is almost too much for him to handle. He can't believe what he's hearing. "I've been waiting for an excuse to spend some time alone with you, but I couldn't think of anything. So, when Omega mentioned you'd be helping out, I figured it would be my chance."

Crosshair shakes his head, trying to process the words. It's a lot to take in. You've been trying to ask him out? All this time, he's been wondering, worrying, and it was all for nothing? You've wanted this, too?

"Oh," is all he can manage, and it's enough to make you laugh again.

"Yeah."

He doesn't know what to say, so he stays silent. You shift next to him, and you place your hand on his arm, the contact sending sparks through his skin. Your touch is light, but it makes his breath catch, and he doesn't miss the way you smile at his reaction.

“So, do you want to watch the fireworks with me?” you ask, your voice soft.

"Yeah, sure," he says. He's trying not to let his excitement show, but judging by the grin on your face, he's not doing a very good job of it.

"Good."

He's expecting you to let go of his arm, but instead, you slide your hand down, and your fingers brush against his, a subtle gesture that makes his heart race. He turns his hand palm up, and you slide yours into it, your touch warm and gentle. His fingers curl around yours, and the smile on your face makes him feel bold.

Crosshair stands, pulling you up with him, and the two of you walk to the edge of the courtyard, hand in hand. It’s quiet now, save for the music playing over the speakers and the soft murmur of conversation, and the sky is dark. There are only a few people left nearby, mostly parents picking up their children, and no one pays the two of you any mind. You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back, a smile forming on his face.

You lead him down a set of steps, and the two of you make your way towards a spot overlooking the bay. The breeze is cool, and the smell of salt fills the air. Without the lanterns and torches and strings of lights, it's dark, and he can just barely see your face, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon.

There’s a tree behind you, and it offers a bit of privacy, and the two of you settle against it, sitting on the grass. He can see the bay spread out in front of them, and the waves crashing on the beach, a steady rhythm that helps slow his racing heartbeat.

He's still holding your hand, and he gives it another squeeze. You lean against him, resting your head on his shoulder, and the two of you watch as the fireworks begin. The explosions are loud, and bright, and colorful, and you point out the best ones, and the ones that remind you of him, and the ones that make you laugh. And, as the fireworks continue, as the colors fill the sky, you lean closer, and he pulls you into his arms.

He's not sure how long it lasts, but the longer the fireworks go on, the closer you get, and the more content he becomes. You're sitting between his legs, leaning back against his chest, and his arms are wrapped around you, holding you close.

You turn your head, the movement catching his eye. Your eyes meet his, and the two of you stare at each other, and the fireworks fade away, forgotten.

"Hey," he whispers, and the corner of your mouth twitches.

"Hey."

"This is nice," he says, his voice low.

"Yeah, it is."

You shift, turning towards him, and your face is so close that he can feel your breath on his lips. He knows he should wait, should give you a chance to change your mind, should give himself a chance to talk himself out of it, but he can't.

"I—"

"Yes," you interrupt, a mischievous glint in your eyes, and he has to laugh.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say," he teases, and you shrug.

"I'm sure it's something good," you say. You reach up, cupping his cheek with your free hand. "Whatever it is, the answer is yes."

He can't stop the smile that forms on his face. He doesn't even try. He just leans in, closing the gap between the two of you, and he kisses you, a soft press of his lips against yours. He feels you sigh against his mouth, and his eyes flutter closed as he loses himself in the kiss.

The fireworks are still going off, but he can barely hear them, and the cheers and laughter and music are distant, a soft hum that fades away. All he can focus on is the feel of your lips against his, the warmth of your body pressed against his, and the soft sound of your breathing.

He feels you smile, and his heart races, and he has to pull back to catch his breath. He opens his eyes, and he's met with the sight of you, your face flushed, and the most beautiful smile he's ever seen.

"That was nice," you say softly, and he scoffs.

“Just nice?" he asks, half-joking and half-serious. He’s just had the best kiss of his life, and if you think it was just nice, then he's got some work to do.

"Well, maybe it was a little more than nice," you tease. The look in your eyes has him leaning in again, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your lips and back.

"Only a little?"

"Yeah, a little."

"Hmm, well, let's try that again," he murmurs, and you laugh, a soft breath against his lips.

"Alright."

Crosshair kisses you again, and this time, the kiss is deeper, slower, and more deliberate. His hands find their way to your hips, pulling you onto his lap, and you don't hesitate to follow his lead. He runs his tongue along your lower lip, and when you moan into his mouth, he feels a thrill rush through him.

Your hands are on his shoulders, and you're straddling his lap as you kiss him back, matching his pace. The feel of your tongue sliding against, and the soft whimper you make when he bites down on your bottom lip, nearly drives him crazy. He grips your hips, and he tugs you closer, the pressure of your weight against him drawing a groan from his mouth into yours. It’s a sound so low and raw that it surprises him, but you don’t seem taken aback by it. If anything, you seem pleased, and it suddenly occurs to him that there’s a lot he doesn’t know about you.

And, for once, he's excited to learn.

He doesn't want this to end, and when you break the kiss, his lips chase yours, unwilling to part just yet. You're gasping, your breath coming in shallow pants, and he rests his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, his fingers digging into your hips.

"You're right," you say, breathless. "Definitely better than nice."

Crosshair laughs, and he opens his eyes. The sight of you, your eyes dark and your cheeks flushed, lips swollen and red, is almost enough to make him let go of the fragile grasp he has on his control. He wants to kiss you again, and again, and again, but the sound of cheering startles him and reminds him of where he is.

He blinks, and he looks around, and then, he lets out a breath. The fireworks are over.

He hadn't realized.

You're still staring at him, a dazed look in your eyes, and when your lips twitch into a smirk, his grip on your hips tightens.

"Don't look at me like that," he warns, his voice raspy.

"Why not?" you ask. Your hand moves from his shoulder to the nape of his neck, fingers brushing against the hairs there, and it sends a shiver down his spine.

"Because I'm trying to be good," Crosshair explains. "And you're making it very difficult."

"I'm sorry," you say, but there's a hint of laughter in your voice that tells him you're not sorry at all.

"Don't be," he replies, and then, with a groan, he continues, "you're worth it."

Your cheeks flush, and he has to fight the urge to lean in and kiss you again. He knows if he does, he'll never be able to stop, and he'd prefer not to scandalize the locals. Or worse, have his brothers catch him in the act. So, instead, he takes a deep breath, and he moves his hands from your hips to your waist.

"Come on," he says, giving you a gentle nudge, and you pout.

"Fine," you sigh, and you give him a quick peck on the cheek before sliding off his lap. You stand and dust yourself off, and then, you offer him a hand. He takes it and lets you help him to his feet. You're still holding his hand as the two of you start walking, heading back up the stairs.

"So," you begin, breaking the silence, "when should we have that date?"

"Are you free tomorrow?"

"You don't waste any time, do you?" you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

“I’ve wasted enough time," Crosshair says, his tone serious, and you give him a look of understanding

"Yeah, me too."

"So, tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow.”

The two of you share a smile, and he leads you back through through the courtyard. You walk slowly, and you let go of his hand, but the loss of contact is quickly forgotten when you lean into him, your shoulder brushing against his. He's tempted to wrap his arm around you, to pull you close, but the idea of having an audience for that makes his stomach turn, so he doesn't. Instead, he just enjoys the feeling of you at his side, and the easy way you fit into his space.

It doesn’t take long to make it to the point where you part ways, and the two of you linger, neither one of you ready to leave the other.

"I guess this is goodnight," you say, your voice soft.

"I guess so."

You reach out and grab his hand, and you squeeze it, giving him a shy smile. He squeezes back, and then, without thinking, he raises your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the back of it.

The flash of embarrassment that follows is enough to make his face heat, but it's worth it for the way your eyes light up, and the faint blush that colors your skin. You duck your head, and the small, pleased smile on your face has his heart racing.

"Goodnight, Crosshair," you say.

"Goodnight."

You turn away, and he watches you go, his eyes lingering on the sway of your hips, and the way your hair dances in the wind. You don’t make it very far before you turn around, a mischievous grin on your face.

"By the way," you begin, your voice raised, and the smirk on his face fades. "Tell Omega I said thank you.”

Crosshair's eyes narrow, and his mouth opens and closes, his mind stuttering as he tries to process the words.

Omega set him up, and you knew, and this entire night was her idea. He'd known, in the back of his mind, that she'd been plotting something, and yet, it hadn't occurred to him until now just how much that entailed.

That little brat.

He can't decide if he's proud or embarrassed. He settles for a combination of the two, and the amused look on your face tells him that he's doing a poor job of hiding his feelings.

"Goodnight, Crosshair," you call out, a teasing lilt to your voice.

"Goodnight," he calls back, his tone flat.

You wave goodbye, and then, with a final, knowing look, you turn around and walk away.

He waits until you're out of sight before letting out a groan. Crosshair runs his hand down his face, and he shakes his head, trying not to think about how many times he'd made a fool of himself tonight. His siblings were never going to let him live this down. He sighs, and then, with a roll of his eyes, he starts walking.

When he makes it home, he finds them already gathered in the living room, talking amongst themselves. Omega’s chosen a chair that faces the front door, and her head snaps over toward him as soon as he walks in. Wrecker and Hunter catch on quick, and the room falls silent, the three of them watching him.

"So, how'd it go?" Omega asks innocently.

Crosshair glares at her, his eyes narrowed. She meets his gaze, a challenging look on her face, and he closes the front door with more force than necessary.

"It went fine."

"Fine?" Wrecker repeats. "That's it?"

They’re all staring at him now, and he can feel his temper rising, the heat of embarrassment rushing to his cheeks, and his fingers twitch, aching to shoot something. He forces himself to calm down, to remind himself they’re only asking because they care. Crosshair relaxes his shoulders, his jaw unclenching, and then, he lets out a sigh.

"Yes, fine," he says, his voice low. "We're going out tomorrow."

The room erupts into cheers and laughter, and Wrecker stands, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Crosshair squirms, trying to escape, but it's useless.

"Wrecker, let him go," Hunter orders, and Crosshair breathes a sigh of relief when his brother finally releases him.

"Thanks, Wrecker," Crosshair grumbles, only to let out a grunt when Omega barrels into him, her arms wrapped around his waist.

"I told you it would work," she says, and Crosshair reaches down and ruffles her hair.

"Yes, you did," he concedes, and the look of triumph on her face has him rolling his eyes. He sighs and extracts himself from her embrace, and he clears his throat. “She says thanks.”

Omega beams, and Wrecker and Hunter laugh, clapping him on the back. They congratulate him, teasing him, and he bears it as best he can, trying not to show how happy he is even as his heart races, and a warm feeling spreads through him.

He hadn't thought he'd have this again, a family, people who cared about him, and he hadn't dared to hope that he'd find something else, something more. He hadn't even known what he was missing until he met you.

And, for the first time in a long time, he's excited for the future.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

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@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolinist @deerspringdreams

#tbb crosshair #crosshair x reader #the bad batch #tbb crosshair x reader #the bad batch crosshair #clone x reader #the bad batch x reader #roy writes #realizing just now that I forgot about batcher im sorry #also confession time: i hate HATE naming fics #i cringe so hard #literal agony every time i have to name one of these #if anyone wants to volunteer to be my title generator #i'd owe you my life #chatgpt is not cutting it

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juniefruit · 6 months

Text

☆ My Dear ☆

☆ Tags: Han Jisung x fem reader, friends to lovers

☆ Summary: In which you’re both head over heels for eachother. Who wouldv’e known that such a simple word has Jisung wrapped around your finger…

☆ Warnings: Eventual smut, petnames, this shit nasty, MDNI!!!!!

☆ Word Count: 3.6k

It’s just a simple habit you picked up; how and where exactly… you can’t pinpoint. Calling people ‘dear’ as a mannerism, even for mundane things here and there. It’s almost subconsious: “thank you, dear.” or “would you pass me that cup, dear?” Just a passive way to be polite, right? Jisung knows you can’t help it. For a few years now, Jisung has been your ride or die. He’s always just a text or phone call away. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually a genie with how fast he always shows up at your side. You laugh together, you vent and rant together, nothing could sever your bond. Some might think you're too close to eachother to be just friends. You wouldn’t have it any other way, though. Jisung was everything you needed in a best friend. Goofy yet responsible; respectful yet lighthearted. Honestly, it’s hard not to imagine a life with him that’s past the boundaries of friendship. It doesn’t help that he’s the most attractive man you’ve had the pleasure of getting to know in your life. Because of your closeness, it’s also hard for Jisung. He would love nothing more than to hug you just because, cuddle up on the couch, and press passionate kisses to your pretty lips. And yet, the feelings go unspoken for fear of losing eachother.

There is one thing that Jisung wouldn’t tell anyone, not even if he was hooked up to a lie detector. Every time you call him dear, his mind spins. His heart races and he needs to manually control his breathing. Such a simple pet name, and yet his mind wanders. Would you call him that, when your thighs are splayed over his, and your fingers thread through his hair? When your breaths are laboured, and you can barely think straight? He would obey your every command. He would beg and plead under you, hands gripping the flesh of your hips in desperation. He would do anything to hear you call him that one more time. And another. And another, until you’re both climaxing with arms wrapped around eachother and necks covered in marks. That’s what he thinks about when he’s alone in his room, zoned out at his desk. Or in his bed. Or on the way to your apartment, which just so happens to be the reality. Great timing.

With spring just around the corner, you could practically feel that gloomy winter feeling melting like snow out of your body. The sun rays of the late afternoon dance through the windows of your living room and land on the hardwood floor. The city can be heard disatntly below. You sit comfortably on the couch, one leg tucked under the other, desperately trying to regain focus on your book. Your mind betrays you, once again pining over Jisung. Oh, how it would feel to finally call him yours. To show him every part of you. To lose yourself in complete adoration for him. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him, because you know he would do the same for you. Like that one time he was having trouble recording a verse just right. He stormed into your apartment, silently seething. No questions asked, you sat him down on the couch before preparing tea. When you returned, you stretched out your arms to invite him in. And he did just that. He couldn’t stay annoyed for long when he had the most beautiful girl comforting him. With a long sigh, he ranted. And you listened. You gave him your full attention. For that, he is forever grateful. A few days later, your boss decided to be extra stingy. You knew the deadline was quickly approaching, you knew there was still a lot to do. And yet he still felt the need to shove it in your face. The entire trip to Jisung’s apartment, stressed tears were bordering on your waterline. The knocks on the door with surprising force were Jisung’s first suspicion that something was up. When he opened it, his heart shattered. Who could have possibly done this to his pretty girl? He ushered you in with an arm wrapped around your shoulders. Opting for the floor, you sat, pulling your knees in tight.

“Please tell me, pretty girl, what happened?” He sat on his knees in front of you, leaning in. Silence from your end. The palm of his hand rubbed against the curve of your shoulder underneath your work clothes.

“Talk to me, Dear. So I can make it better. Why don’t you take a deep breath, hm?” Maybe your mannerisms were rubbing off on him. That didn’t mean they affected him any less. Still curled up with your head down, you talked. Like he asked. Because you couldn’t deny him for long. The rest is history.

The steady knocks at your door pull you out of your thoughts as you slam the book shut and place it on the coffee table. Your feet pad across the floor to unlock the door. You know it’s Jisung. He had texted you earlier, saying he’s on his way. For no specific reason other than he knew you were both at home anyway, enjoying the day off. When you open the door, You’re dazed every time. You can never get used to the sight that beholds you. Jisung, in a hoodie and jean jacket, black jeans hugging his toned thighs. His dark hair was in its natural curly state, a few stray strands falling forward above his eyes. You would want nothing more than to reach out a hand and sweep it to the side. That would make things weird, certainly. His small silver hoop earrings dangle as he looks up.

“Hey,” He says, with a content sigh and a subtle grin.

“Hi, Sungie! Come in-” You say, side stepping to give him room to enter. He’s unlacing his shoes while you walk to the kitchen.

“Want something to drink? I can make some tea?”

“Whatever you want, y/n. You make it, I'll drink it.” He says as he’s hanging up his jacket. You chuckle.

“Alright, Dear.”

The water in the kettle makes a bubbling sound off to the side. You’re occupied with preparing the tea bags when you sense Jisung’s presence behind you. It takes everything in you not to yelp in surprise when you feel a hand slide against your waist. Jisung reaches past you and grabs a glass from the cabinet. His presence is warm and comforting. If you leaned back just a bit, you’d be pressed right up against him. You freeze, but he continues his gentle gestures. The hand that isn’t still settled against the lower part of your waist sets the glass down. He grazes his hand over yours, takes the tea bag between his lithe fingers, and places it in the cup. When he speaks, it’s sensually close to your ear.

“You’re always so good to me… you make me tea, you comfort me when I’ve had a bad day, you even got me an entire cheesecake for my birthday. How could I ever repay you?” His voice is low and soothing.

“Being my best friend is more than enough, Dear.” You say with a considerate tone. You turn your head to face him, which was a grave mistake on your part. Now you’re nose to nose, wide-eyed and staring into his round, kind eyes. It takes a few seconds for him to muster up the courage before speaking.

“What if I didn’t want to be best friends anymore?” His voice was now serious.

“Uh, what?” This can’t be. Did you do something wrong? Before your brain short circuits, Jisung continues.

“I- Um, shit. I meant, what if you were my girlfriend instead?” That sounded better in his head, clearly. “I just- I think about you like, every day. When I’m at the studio with the guys. Or when I’m literally doing nothing. I don’t know what to do with myself-” You cut him off, not by saying anything, but by leaning in and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. Enough with the rambling.

“Jisung, dear, what if I didn’t want to be your best friend anymore either?” And with that, He grins so wide his eyes crinkle. He takes his arm off the counter to grab the other side of your waist, turning you completely towards him; eyes still locked.

“Then you better tell me if you don’t want this, too.” He’s leaning in and pressing his lips to yours before you can think of something to even say. Now realizing how useless your hands feel, you bring them up to rest on his shoulders. With newfound courage, you kiss back. You can practically feel the energy radiating from where he subtly moves his plush lips against yours. Not totally sure what to do, you mimic his own movement, which he seems contempt with because he releases a low groan and gently exhales through his nose. The scent of his cherry chapstick invades your nose. It’s certainly doing its job; his lips are softer than the finest silk. Truly, you’re not thinking of anything other than him, and where he’s touching you.

The alarm of the kettle snaps you back into the space of your apartment. You hum into his mouth when he doesn’t immediately let go. Jisung lets out a low whine, and tightens his arms around you. The feeling is dangerous. Reluctantly, you pull away from his lips with a loud smack.

“Sungie Dear, the water-”

“I finally get to kiss you, and you’re giving the kettle priority over me?” He says, teasingly. He pouts, puffing his cheeks out.

“Let me at least turn it off-” You wiggle and squirm in his hold. When he feels you create that friction, he finally realizes that he should have tried to keep his composure a little more. Especially since you’ve been calling him by that saccharine nickname ever since he stepped through the door. Luckily, the material of his jeans was thick enough that he felt confident you didn’t notice anything. As if his arms weighed a hundred pounds each, he pulled them away; not without dragging them across your hips first. He huffs out a ‘fine’ before following you to the other side of the kitchen. Like an obedient puppy, he tracks behind as you carry the kettle to the two cups on the counter. You pour them both. Not even a second goes by after you set the kettle down and Jisung has his arms wrapped around your middle and head resting on your shoulder from behind. You chuckle.

“There. Happy now?” You inquire.

“Very.” One of his arms travels up your upper body. He takes his time, applying pressure to every dip and curve of your side. When he reaches your neck, he brushes your hair behind your ear and to the back. Goosebumps make their way up your arms. Not because it’s cold. On the contrary, you’re burning up. Surely your cheeks are bright red and your eyes can’t focus on anything in front of you. When Jisung leans his head in to whisper in your ear, he also slightly pushes his middle into yours, craving more physical touch.

“Tell me, pretty girl, is this okay? I’ve been thinking about you for so long, I would hate to rush things.”

“It’s okay. I promise.” You can barely get the words out when you feel his body against yours, even with clothes. If you’re feeling this stimulated now, How will you even be able to breathe when you go farther than this? The verdict is, you’ll find out when you get there.

“What, am I making you nervous?” He teases. You can feel his breath on your neck when he talks.

“I mean- yeah, but not in- not in a bad way. I- please, just do something.” You whine softly at the end.

“Say the magic word, pretty girl.” His lips are so close tto the nape of your neck now that you can feel his lips moving as he speaks.

“Please, Dear.” Never in your life had you felt him so eager like this. His plush lips molded against the nape of your neck under your ear. His arms shifted and tightened against your midriff when he heard you breath out a heavy sigh. His tongue darted out to run over his lips and, in the process, ran over the soft skin of your neck. At that, you let out the tiniest whine. Jisung heard it and ran with it. Licking and sucking against your neck with fervor as your hands glided over his own. With one last languid suck into the sensitive new mark, he flipped you around and gently pushed you further into the counter. You looked utterly divine; out of breath and waiting for the next move. Jisung passionately gave you one last kiss. His lips were wet from his earlier escapade, and his tongue darted out for a kitten lick against your own lips. He swears he’s never felt or tasted anything better. Your head is spinning when you gently part your lips to deepen the kiss. Butterflies erupt in your stomach when you feel his core slowly move against your own. It was experimental. You do the same motion back. Jisung gasps against your mouth.

“Um, shit, I- I’m sorry, I definitely took this too far. Was that okay, baby?” He’s trying to speak and catch his breath at the same time. You stare into his worried eyes.

“More than okay. Now, it seems like I’m the one waiting.” You exclaim with a push of your hips against his. His face scrunches from the stimulation.

“Come to the couch with me.” He pulls you off of the kitchen counter and guides you through the living room with arms still wrapped around you. You take your own hands and press the pads of your fingers into the back of his neck where his hair curls. You gently tug, and he lets out a quiet, breathy moan. You fall back onto the couch. Jisung leans over you, silver earrings twinkling in the golden rays from the last sunlight of the day. Oh yeah, it’s golden hour. As Jisung places his arms on either side of your shoulders, the ethereal orange light makes him look like a fallen angel. He can say the same for you. Your hair is a bit tussled, and you’re looking up at him with doe eyes that he’s never even had the power to imagine. When he comes closer, he sensually slots his hips against yours and grinds. One of his legs rests on the couch for stability as you lay under him. Your fingers are still tangled in his hair when he runs his palms down your arms and to your middle. His hands slide under your sweatshirt to caress the soft skin there. You let out a wanton moan at the contact. His hips do not relent. Your hands slide down from his hair, scratching along his clothed back, and hooking into the belt loops of his jeans. He gasps and whines.

“It’s a bit hot in here, don’t you think?” He asks teasingly from his position above you.

“Why dont you take this off then, my Dear?” You pull on the hem of his hoodie.

“Yeah, of course Baby. Anything.” His words are breathy and he can barely think straight. The way the word shapes your lips and leaves your mouth in the softest, most sensual tone has his braincells running laps. He mimics your movements and runs his own hands down to the belt of your jeans before raising them and throwing his hoodie over his head and somewhere off to the side. His wide shoulders accent the planes of his chest, perfectly toned. His eyes look down at your chest.

“Can I take this off, Baby?” He asks, gathering the material of your sweatshirt in one hand. His hips are still connected to yours but halt their movements. You can feel him through his jeans, that’s how high strung he is. You nod your head with a hum as he grapples with the material. Your fingers fiddle with the button on his jeans. Your eyes are heavy with desire.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, my Dear?”

He moans and his eyes roll back. “Yes… hah…”

You unbutton his jeans to feel his member through his boxers. Jisung’s tongue is licking into yours until he begins to leave open mouthed kisses down your jaw, your neck, and laving over your collar bone.

“So gorgeous Baby…mmmmmh” He groans into your skin. You crane your neck to give him space, while leaving kisses on his own. The silver earring dangles against your nose. You shimmy your own pants off, finally becoming too unbearable. You both moan at the new level of closeness and the pressure of your nether regions against one another. Jisung’s moans grow higher in pitch and frequency the longer your hand rubs over him.

“Ah, ah Baby, stop before I cum like this…” his eyebrows knit together. You let out a hum.

“Let’s take these off then, my Dear.” You shimmy your hands under his boxers in order to pull them down with his jeans at the same time. Once they’re down at his ankles, he pulls them off the rest of the way. His swollen cock stands and pearls of glistening precum gather at the tip. He jolts when you swipe a finger over the head to gather it, before impatiently tugging your jeans and underwear down in one go. They plop down onto the floor. Your hearts beat rapidly in tandem with anticipation. Jisung tears his eyes away from your chest to look you in the eyes.

“You’re sure this is okay, yeah?” He exhales.

“Yeah. Now come here.” He keens at the command. Your knees raise up to lock in around his waist, his sensitive cock between you two. His hands grip the sides of your waist for stability, and his thumbs rub soothing motions into your heated skin. He adjusts his hips so his tip drags over your clit before finding your entrance between your folds. He would have prepped you with his nimble fingers had it not been for your joined impatience. So, to make up for it, his tongue drags down and over your right nipple, licking stripes up and down. Your back arches at the stimulation. Jisung slowly pushes his cock in, until his head pushes past the throbbing ring of muscle only to be met with your velvet walls enveloping every inch. His thighs quiver, and his hands make grabby motions against your waist.

“Ah, hahh, so good Baby, all nice and so wet…” You mewl and whine. Your brain is going into overdrive with the way jisung’s chest moves as he takes deep breaths in. The way his dark hair falls across his face and just barely covering his eyes. When he gives an experimental grind with his length inside, you both let out breathy groans. Your arms circlearound to grasp at his shoulder blades, and your nails subtly scratch. He shudders and moves his hips deeper. Every thrust is accentuated with a huff hrom his plump, kiss-swollen lips. Your scratches on his back make him pick up the speed of his thrusts, until he gets an idea. He leans even closer and slides his arms around your back.

“I have an idea… hmmmh, flip over for me, Baby.” You both rotate until you’re now sitting on top of him. Your thighs are pressed on top of his and honestly, the sight is heavenly. Jisung won’t admit how long he’s wanted to see you like this. He knows he won’t last long like this, not when he’s already so stimulated. Inbetween bounces, you’re mumbling praises that make Jisung ascend. Little whispers of “so good, my Dear” and “right- right there, Dear…” It gets harder and harder for him to control the speed of his thrusts when he’s so close now that he can taste it. Every time he pushes back in, your walls tighten around him. There’s a little puddle of your combined slick at the base of his cock aiding in the rush to cum. Every time you sink down all the way to his base, your clit hits against his lower tummy that is also thrusting up to meet you halfway. His hands are gripping at your upper thigh with a force that might leave fingertip-shaped bruises tomorrow, but right now, nothing feels better. One of his hands drags down to press his pointer and middle finger into your clit to rub tight circles. Your release builds and builds in waves until you’re crashing down with him, hunching over and biting into the nape of his neck. Whiny moans and groans fill the living room as Jisung goes taut with his orgasm.

“Ha-ah ohhhh Baby, I’m- ughh cumming-!”

His breathing is heavy and he’s pulling you so close that there is no point on your upper bodies that aren’t in contact. It takes a solid few minutes to control breathing and regain sense of where you are. Your poor couch. Jisung exhales with a smug grin and lidded eyes, looking up at you. His hands are drawing little circles into your waist.

“Sit here Baby, let me go get some things to clean up..” he says before pulling you off to sit limp against the couch. He comes back with a soft damp washcloth, and water.

“Oh… thank you, my Dear.” You say as you take the water with both of your hands.

“You’ll have to cut that out unless you want round two…” Jisung warns with a tilt of his head. Two cups of tea sit long forgotten on the kitchen island, cool enough that they can be used for iced tea instead.

☆ Read more of my works here~ masterlist

Warning: Everything I post is 100% my original writing & thoughts. This also includes the moodboards at the beginning, that I create. Please do not plagiarize or copy. Tag for inspiration or add-ons. Reblogs are appreciated! <3

#stray kids x reader #han jisung #han x reader #han x y/n #jisung x reader #stray kids jisung #stray kids han #jisung x y/n #jisung x you #skz x reader #stray kids oneshot #stray kids imagines #fanfic #stray kids smut #skz smut #smut

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gay-dorito-dust · 7 months

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ok what if reader is also a vigilante?

reader and Jason met in their civilian identities, and after a while they start dating. but like, neither of them tells the other one about their vigilante identities? and then something random happens and they both find out in a funny way?

(alsooo can I be 🐈‍⬛? :3)

Idk if this is considered ‘funny’ but I tired, oh and Yes, you may be 🐈‍⬛ anon. 🦦

When you first met Jason in the cosy book store, you were far too concerned with keeping your stint as a vigilante as close to a secret as possible, so much so that the mere aspect of dating wasn’t something you contemplated on a day to day basis; Never less dating a civilian when you’re fighting street level thugs. However you couldn’t help but get lost in the beauty of his smile, his eyes and the way he ran his hand through his hair.

All you were aware in that moment was that Jason is just perfection in a six foot something frame. He was just that beautiful that you couldn’t find yourself looking away from him, ever; It had to be illegal to be that beautiful.

When Jason first met you in the cosy book store, trying to reach for a book that was just out of reach, he was far too concerned about the new vigilante that had taken to the street of Gotham. Nightshade was their name and they obviously had natural talent but were still sloppy in some areas, but they showed enough promise in their debut outing to be apart of the Outlaws. Dating was the last thing he needed honestly, despite affection, loyalty and love were something he deeply longer for more so then anything, however he felt a little tempted by the idea when you gave him a look of gratitude as he handed you the book was enough to set him alight.

‘Jason.’ He blurted.

‘Come again?’ You asked.

‘My name. It’s Jason.’ He clarified, internally cursing himself for making himself looking like a right idiot in front of you, but you just had that effect on him and it hadn’t even been ten minutes upon meeting you. Was he really that depraved? He asked himself as in that very moment you decided to smile at him, which gave him his answer that yes, he was indeed that depraved for a genuine connection. ‘Well it’s nice to meet you Jason. I’m y/n.’ You greeted, finding Jason absolutely endearing and insufferably cute. ‘Do you often help people with books or is it just a one time thing?’ You then asked, holding the book close to your chest, biting the inside of your cheek.

‘I don’t come here as often as I promised myself I would, so consider this as a rare occurrence.’ Jason shrugged, leaning against the shelf. ‘So do you come here often or are you a fellow procrastinator?’ You chuckled and Jason has to pat himself on the back for that one. He managed to make you laugh and god did it sound ethereal. ‘I’m kinda a fellow procrastinator but that’s because I’ve been busy with life and such.’ You told him, not wanting to admit to everything to a conventionally attractive man you’ve just met at a small, run down book store just yet; You didn’t want to fuck this up for yourself.

‘Oh yeah? Then maybe if you come here more often, I’ll have more of a reason to stop by other than the books.’ Jason said and you felt your smile even wider and tighten your grip on the book, casting your eyes to the floor. Curse this beautiful man for making you feel like a silly little schoolgirl either way a crush, it was both embarrassing as it was all consuming. ‘Sounds like you’re asking me on a date, mr Jason.’

Jason shrugs. ‘Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. I mean is it wrong for me to want to get to know you better?’

‘I guess it wouldn’t hurt.’ You admitted.

‘So it’s a date?’ Jason asked, anticipating your answer.

‘Yeah. It’s a date.’ You replied, feeling a warmth flood through your body, followed by a feeling of nervousness simultaneously it was hard to figure out which feeling you should focus on.

Several book store dates, skirting your obvious feelings for one another and moving into his apartment later, you and Jason were officially a couple: and a happy one at that. And yet despite sharing everything to one another, every deep secret you’ve ever kept in your entire life and yet the one secret neither of you chose to disclose was your vigilante identities, and for simple and justifiable reasons on both your parts; You didn’t want Jason to be brought into the crossfire as a casualty and Jason didn’t want you to get hurt because of the dangerous people he wronged as RedHood. You’ve both hated yourselves for keeping a tight lid on your vigilantism but you knew it was for the betterment of the other, after all ignorance was indeed -on some occasions- bliss.

However on this very night, everything you and Jason have ever hidden from the other had decided to come to light but not in a way that’d either of you were expecting.

You and Jason were cuddled up on the couch and enjoying a peaceful evening in together, seeing as for a week straight both of you have had your hands full with capturing and clearing the streets of Gotham of thugs, goons and drug dealers, and actually getting the golden opportunity to act like an ordinary couple and shower the other in the love and affection that you’ve both been aching for the entire week.

‘You need to get some better sleep Jaybirdie, I can see dark bags starting to form under your eyes.’ You mutter softly as you run your calloused thumbs under his eyes, naturally concerned for his health and well-being. ‘Are you saying that I’m not that appealing to look at anymore because I’m developing eye bags? How shallow of you babe.’ Jason joked as he moved his face from your hands and looking away from you with a pout on his lips.

You laughed, reaching to hold his face in your hands again and gently made him look at you. ‘Stop being dramatic my little Jay bird, I think you make eyes bags work for you but I just don’t like the idea of you staying up longer than you should.’ You said as you kissed his lips and then under his eyes, feeling him hum in content as he dragged you into him tightly. ‘I appreciate the compliment babe.’ He said as he pressed a kiss to your head, closing his eyes as he breathed you in deeply. ‘I’m sorry we haven’t had enough time with each other lately.’

You burrowed yourself deeper into him, hands clutching at his shirt. ‘it’s okay Jason and besides I should sorry too because there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now. I hope you don’t hate me afterwards.’ You admit, scared that this might break your beautiful relationship with the sweetest man you’ve ever met, who had been nothing but unquestionably loyal to you through and through. ‘You could do no wrong pretty baby,’ Jason cooed, ‘but since we’re sharing things, I have something that I’ve been keeping from you also sweetheart.’ Jason said as he feared that he’d only be scaring you away afterwards and he can only hope that you’d stay and hear him out.

‘No, Jason you don’t-‘ you were cut off by the sound of two emergency alerts going off from your shared bedroom and before leaping off of Jason’s lap, much to his displeasure and worry, and rushed towards the bedroom with Jason hot on your heels going on about something you couldn’t quite make out over the noise of the emergency alerts. It was rare that it goes off and when it does, it’s when someone like scarecrow or Joker has made a reemergence to the public and when they do, nothin good ever comes to pass.

Within the depths of your shared closet in your bedroom were two equal sized duffel bags. Inside these duffel bags held everything to do with your vigilante personas that you and Jason had hastily shoved inside, and all before you officially moved into his apartment too. You never touched his out of respect for him and he never touched yours out of respect also, you both knew which one belong to who as they also sat just beneath your own civilians clothes, that and the fact that Jason’s duffel bag was a lot more beat up and rugged compared to yours which only had slight wears and tears; but other then that it was relatively a new bag.

Right of this moment however you didn’t stop to think about which bag you’ve picked up because before you knew it you had locked yourself within the bathroom, just about ready to change into your attire, when you were face to face with a familiar red helmet causing you to freeze in place. While you were trying to grasp the idea that your beautiful, beautiful Jason was the ruthless RedHood, a knock on the bathroom door broke you from your thoughts, and you automatically knew that Jason saw your vigilante attire and was feeling a similar sort of confusion towards you as you were about him. You placed the red helmet back into the duffle bag, zipped it shut before unlocking and opening the door wide enough for Jason to hold out your duffel bag towards you.

‘I believe this is yours sweetheart.’ He said awkwardly.

‘Thank you Jaybirdie.’ You mutter as you took the bag off of him, placing it down on the toilet seat as you picked up his duffel bag and handed it to him through the gap in the doorway. ‘I believe this belongs to you.’

‘Thank you sweetheart.’ Jason replied as he took the bag off of your hands as an uncomfortable air of silence followed as you both stood on either sides of the door, not knowing how to properly address the situation. Until… ‘I knew I recognise that ass in spandex anywhere.’

‘JASON!’ You exclaimed, face becoming flushed.

‘What? It’s true you’ve got a distinctly shaped ass! So of course I’m going to recognise it!’ Jason replied, throwing his hands up in the air.

‘So you’ve admitted to staring at my ass like a perv?’ You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

Jason pushed the bathroom door open fully to get closer to you and hold your face in his hands. ‘Don’t start acting like you haven’t stared at my ass like a perv, perv.’ He says with a chuckle upon seeing the expression upon your face, pressing kisses from your forehead and all the way down to the tip of your nose. ‘I thought you wouldn’t notice.’ You murmur softly, making Jason laugh as he lead you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, where he then sat you down on the end of the bed and held your hand.

‘Well unfortunately for you, I do notice and I can’t say I don’t like the attention that I’d get for my charming parent.’ Jason says as he kisses the back of your hand. ‘You’re not mad that I’m a vigilante and have been keeping it from you all this time?’ You asked, running your thumb over his hand. ‘No because it would be quite hypocritical if I did because I’ve been keeping the same secret hidden from you also. Would you be mad at me being RedHood?’ Jason asked and you immeditly replied ‘no because I know you did so to keep me safe.’

‘Ans I know that you didn’t tell me for the exact same reason.’ Jason butted in. ‘Now that we know however, this just means that we’re even more of a kick ass couple because we literally kick ass every night and I couldn’t be more prouder of you baby.’ He add as he presses kisses to your face, making you chuckle before pulling away. ‘But that doesn’t mean I won’t stop worry about my baby. So expect a whole lot of team ups in the future okay chipmunk?’ You pressed a kiss to his cheek before stealing one from his lips as you stood up from the bed, tugging at his arm. ‘Why don’t we start teaming up now? RedHood and Nightshade, they’ll never see us coming by a long shot!’ You said and Jason couldn’t help but smile at your excitement as he then stood up, groaning dramatically. ‘Alright, alright, quick pulling my arm and get changed so we can go catch us some bad guys.’

You beamed brightly as you stole another kiss from his lips. ‘I love you Jaybirdie.’

‘The things I do for you buttercup.’ Jason spoke against your lips as he kisses you again.

#jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #dc x y/n #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc comics x reader #dc fic #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction

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enwoso · 4 months

Text

GOODBYE, I’LL MISS YOU — alessia russo

part two to crushed read the first part here!

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flattening the banner across the garden fence, the big bright letters that spelled out 'GOOD LUCK GIRLS!' which you had spent many hours perfecting the big letters over the past few weeks considering the amount of free time you'd now gained while alessia was at training.

you had planned a little going away party for less and some other girls with a little help from your girlfriends two brothers and best friend ella toone.

alessia was due to be back any moment and the other girls you had invited were due to arrive in the next hour, along with some of alessia's family which were up from down south.

"gorgeous i'm home!" the blonde sung as the sound of the door closing echoed in the hallway. "i got the six variations of crisps and the tray of sandwiches that you asked for!" she held up the bag of shopping her arm carrying the tray of sandwiches.

"hiya" you smiled, limping back through the canopy doors from the garden as the blonde placed the bags onto the counter, her eyes drifting towards the different coloured bowls filled with snacks and other picky foods to you who was definitely a little over dressed to be just watched films all day like you had told the blonde earlier this morning.

"what are you up to?" alessia narrowed her eyes towards you as a cheeky smile appeared on your face as you began to unpack the tray of sandwiches.

"just thought i would do a little something for you and the girls before you all leave for the world cup!" you wondered off towards the blonde who stood processing what you'd said, a pout appearing on alessia's face as she brung you into a bear hug attacking your face with several kisses.

"i love you, i love you!" she repeated with each kiss small giggles falling from your mouth, the blonde stopping but still keeping you in her grip, "why though?" alessia asked.

"can't i do something nice for my girlfriend and her friends without a good reason?" you hummed, raising your eyebrows as alessia rolled her eyes playfully at your response.

"no in all seriousness, just thought it would be nice to relax a little before you go and it gets all serious" you smiled softly kissing your girlfriend cheek.

"how did you manage this all by yourself?" the blonde asked as gap between the two of you got a little bigger, your back pressed up against the counter top as alessia's hands were wrapped around your waist.

you gasped, "you don't think i'm capable of doing this all by myself?" the blonde beginning to back peddle as you laughed a little to yourself, "i'm just joking with you lessi, luca and gio helped me"

the blonde now looking confused as the timer on the oven began to ring, "but there both in london?" she pointed out. "yeah, they were in london two days ago-" you smiled moving towards the oven to take out the baked goods out which were muffins.

the ball dropping as alessia hummed, her lips curling up into a smile as she come over to try and take a hot muffin but as she reached out you slapped her wrist away.

"hey! i wanted one of them" alessia frowned as you side eyed her mumbling that she could have one later as you moved the muffins onto a cooling rack, opening your mouth to say a remark back but the sound of the door bell ringing beating you to it.

"oo that'll be tooney" you mumbled to yourself, limping around the kitchen counter towards the door a white bandaged still covering your left knee, "and don't touch the muffins russo" you warned her as she stood in the middle of the kitchen, hands surrendering but a cheeky look on her face.

"party starts now!" ella cheered holding up two bags of what alessia guessed where things you'd asked her to bring as the midfielder walked into the kitchen where alessia had a muffin in her hand peeling away the muffin case from it, you following shortly behind ella.

ella placing the bags in the kitchen counter beginning to recite the things she's brought along with her, "i've got karaoke, a card game, ball-"

"alessia teresa russo i told you not to eat them muffins!" you gasped, alessia innocently smiling as you glared at her as she ate the last little bit of the muffin which was left.

"just checking they were okay to eat!" alessia shrugged as she walked past you pressing a kiss to your cheek before putting her rubbish in the bin.

"oo muffins! i'll have one!"

"NO!"

all the girls had arrived, along with those of alessia’s family who made the long journey up from south to manchester.

a cool may night, the sun setting late as you all gathered in the garden. playing the little games that ella had brung along with eating all the food you’d spent all day preparing the muffins not making it to the table of food, listening to music and taking photos to capture the moment.

you watched as everyone looked relaxed, alessia joking and laughing on with her brothers and friends as she looked over to you, every so often silently checking in.

after standing up for too long and you knee beginning to feel a little irritated you found yourself sitting down on your garden lounge lifting your legs up to lay along the garden furniture, a fluffy blanket you’d brought out earlier on coving you as the crisp air hit your bare legs.

checking your phone for a few minutes before hearing the voice of ella toone approach you, “you okay?” she asked sitting down at the end of where your legs where laid.

slotting your phone into your hoodie pocket, you nodded. “yeah my knees’ just starting to play up” you shrugged.

ella hummed placing her drink down on the table, “thank you by the way” the midfielder smiled as you looked at her with slight confusion. “for what?”

“for tonight — such a good way to let everyone to relax and enjoy themselves before, well you know” ella said sincerely as you nodded with a smile.

“well they don’t just pay me for my good looks you know” you joked as ella shook her head a few giggles coming from her from your comment.

“glad to see your still humble as ever!”

“of course i am”

"so when's your surgery" ella asked as she slumped further down the sofa that was on the decking, pulling the other fluffy blanket around her as everyone else danced around in front of the two of you.

"um next wednesday" you sighed, finally getting a date for you surgery after a month of waiting and being told it has to be pushed back for reasons unbeknownst to you.

"just can't wait to have it and be back into recovery!" you added as ella nodded knowing how hard it must be for her friend being out from doing the sport you loved so dearly.

"is your mum going with you or are you going by yourself?" ella said knowing both you and alessia and if it was up to alessia she would be in the operating room with you but ella also knew you and how stubborn you could be.

"oh no she's not- don't worry though i'm not gonna be by myself!" you nudged ella seeing the small look of worry wander onto her face. "do you really think less would let me go by myself ay?" you pointed, your eyebrows raised as the two of you both let out a small laugh.

"i was gonna say!"

"leah's offered to come with me and then i think i’ll go and stay with her until.." you stopped for a breath, "well until you lot get back i guess" ella nodded as you began to speak changing the topic this time and taking the spotlight off you and instead onto ella.

"are you excited for australia?" you asked as a bright grin came onto the younger girls face as she nodded quickly. "yeah, just don't know how i'm gonna make it through the long flight with that big dope!" ella sighed, looking towards alessia who was talking with mary her eyes wandering every few minutes towards you.

you hummed before laughing slightly at the thought of the pair of them being sat next to each other for that length of time knowing the situations that could occur.

"when you put it like that, i'm glad, i'm not gonna be on that flight!" you said receiving an elbow to the stomach from the midfielder. "ey watch it im already injured!" you glared at ella getting a roll of the eyes as a response.

"don't tell me you've got soft!"

"wait— so are you not coming over to australia then?" ella asked out of nowhere, as the small laugh had stopped. you shrugged, "i dunno- maybe, i haven't really thought about it to be honest"

you weren't lying you hadn't, part of you wanted to go over not only to experience life on the other side of the world but to also be there for her girlfriend and cheer her on but the other part didn't want to go and watch as your girlfriend lived her dream while you was sat on the sidelines wondering about what could have been.

before ella even had a chance to reply, alessia had made her way over and sat herself right on top of you.

"tooney, what have i told you about stealing my girlfriend!" the blonde glared at her bestfriend. ella rolling her eyes playfully.

"i weren't, we were just having a natter!" ella defended as alessia got herself comfy and situated her arm around your neck so that your head what resting on the strikers chest, hands laced within each other.

"about?" alessia mumbled as your fingers rubbed circles into the back of her hand. "australia and y/n's surgery" ella smiled taking a sip of her drink as you felt alessia tense at little.

"oh" alessia said, a slight hint of sadness in her tone. australia had been a little bit of a touchy subject in your household since you'd been injured.

one because you'd spent a few weeks before the team announcement coming to terms with the fact that you name was definitely not going to be on there but also the fact that the chance of you being able to go and just support the girls being very slim as you were due your surgery in the next week and then your rehab was starting.

for alessia seeing her name on the squad was a big achievement for her but she also felt her heart drop as she knew that the two of you would not being going to the world cup together like you'd planned.

the rest of the night came to a close, you noticed a change in alessia’s mood. but why? you weren’t quite sure on a answer just yet.

once the two of you had said goodbye to the girls held came, shutting the door and locking it behind the last person to leave. tiredness coming and hitting you like a brick wall as alessia had already retreated upstairs to start her nightly routine which she loved to stick to each night.

you on the other hand doing your routine of locking the doors, turning lights of as well as grabbing some ice to put on your knee as you slowly but surely used your crutches to get you up the stairs.

quickly getting changed into shorts and a t shirt, before joining alessia in the bathroom to brush your teeth.

since the chat about australia with ella there'd been a sad smile on the blondes face which had been difficult to get rid of. the same sad smile still on her face as she washed her face.

brushing your teeth you tried to decipher the blondes mood as she rubbed her faced with all of her different serums and moisturises as you sat on the toilet lid, looking at the blonde who retured the look through the large bathroom mirror which hung from the wall.

"are you okay?" you asked slotting your toothbrush back into the holder it always stayed in, alessia picking up another face cream as she nodded and hummed a response.

"you sure, just you've been off since ella mentioned australia" you trailed off, the blonde sighing and turning to you as if something is playing on her mind.

"it doesn't matter, its silly anyway" alessia shook her head her sentence almost coming out as a whisper, as you stood up wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your head on her shoulder.

"nothing you say is silly love" you whispered into her ear as she relaxed into your hold.

"i'm scared to be away from you for that long" the blonde admitted quietly as a frown now appeared on your face as you turned your girlfriend to face you.

alessia had every right to feel that way, this was the first time in two years that you would both be away from each other for longer than a week and even then it would only be when she went down to see her family in kent and you would stay in manchester to see your family. this was a whole different scale as you would be on the other side of the world to each other.

“oh love” you cooed as you pecked her lips, “i know it’s not the same but i’ll always be a just phone call away if you need me when your over there!” you smiled softly as alessia nodded slightly.

“i just wished you could be there too, not just watching but playing” alessia whispered as you sadly smiled at her you fingers rubbing small circles into her hip bones.

“me too love but unfortunately that’s not how the universe wanted it but just know that if it was possible i would be front row cheering you on” you told imitating your best russo chat you’d heard from the games a little giggle coming from alessia as you moved your hands to hold hers, the blonde looking into your eyes as you moved a little closer to kiss her lips.

the taste of her strawberry lip balm pressing to yours, her hands had moved to hold your neck, as the kiss was filled with nothing but love and affection for each other.

pulling away once breathing became a little more difficult for you both, “i love you” you smiled holding your head against alessia’s forehead.

“i love you too” alessia smiled also pecking your lips once more.

“now how about we get into bed and plan how we are going to spend our last week together!”

<- crushed (part one)

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moonstruckme · 8 months

Note

Hey!! I’ve spent most of my day catching up on my reading goal for the year, on your blog. I love your writing!! I wanted to know if you could write something poly!marauders where the reader comes home from work early due to chronic pain (winter weather sucks sometimes), and the boys take care of them? Pls add your own spin however you see fit! Hope your day is going well! :)

And happy holidays!

Thanks so much lovely, you're too sweet <3

modern au

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Breathe, angel,” James reminds you, eyeing you worriedly as he sinks into downward dog. “Deep breaths.”

“I’m breathing,” you sigh, following him down. The movement, the stress it puts on your legs and back, aches, but you feel better than you had when you’d come home.

You weren’t expecting James to be here (he typically likes to get out of the house on his days off, too energetic and cabin-fever-prone to stay in) but he hasn’t let you have even a moment of peace since you’d come in the door, unannounced and several hours from the end of your workday. He’d first tried to get you to go on a walk, but the frigid weather outside is what had doomed you in the first place so he’d settled for pulling up a short, low-intensity yoga video on his laptop.

A small part of you resents him for it, just a little. The smarter part of you is grateful.

“Just a bit longer,” James says, likely sensing your growing discontent. “After this we can get you a warm bath. Or a massage, if you like.”

You hum a weary thanks. Either of those sound great, but a nap would be spectacular. You want to evanesce. Sink into a sleep beyond pain.

The serene voice on James’ laptop guides you into a cat-cow pose, but you’re only starting your first cat when you hear the click of the door opening. You turn to James in confusion. He won’t quite look at you.

You recognize the loud clunking sound of Sirius kicking off his shoes a moment before he comes into view.

“Ooh, yoga.” He’s smiling, but there’s a watchful quality to his gaze as he drapes himself across the sofa. “Mind an audience?”

You shoot James an accusatory look. “Why’d you call him?”

“Excuse me,” Sirius says, reclaiming your attention. “Do you not want me here?”

You give up on the yoga, sitting on your mat. “I don’t want you to have to leave work,” you say quietly.

Sirius tsks, sliding off the couch and moving closer to you. “I couldn’t have been productive while I was worried about you anyways. Figured I’d save my boss the money.” His smile slips, a tiny pucker appearing between his brows. “You alright for a hug?”

You answer by opening your arms, and he gathers you up. He doesn’t squeeze the way he normally might, hands careful on your back, but it’s still nice.

“How bad is it?” he asks, turning his face to mush the words lovingly into the side of your head.

“Not bad,” you murmur.

“I’d say it’s pretty bad,” James contends gently, “if you had to come home from work.”

You turn your head to look at him, offering a sheepish shrug. “The yoga helped some.”

James’ smile is lopsided, eyes flickering with relief behind his glasses. Sirius isn’t so easily convinced, loosening his grip on you so he can see your face. Despite how used to it you should be, it’s still an effort not to shrink under that gaze. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, if he finds it or he doesn’t, but a few moments later Sirius’ hands slide up to your face. He kisses the skin next to your nose lightly.

“Let me make you some tea, sweet girl,” he says, standing. “You’ve had pain meds already, yeah?”

You hum that you have, and James says after him, “Not the chamomile, it’ll just make her sleepy.”

You try not to sulk as Sirius calls back, “I’m not new here, Potter.”

James is trying to get you back into the yoga when the door opens a second time. If you hadn’t gotten there by process of elimination, the soft, considerate footfalls would have let you know who it was.

“Oh, hi,” Remus says when he finds you and James already waiting for him. Pity softens his expression as his eyes fall on you. “How are you, dove? Is the yoga helping?”

“It was,” James grouses, though his little smile lets you both know he’s only teasing. He extends his arms out in front of him, beckoning with his hands. “Come here, give us a hug. She got to go first last time.”

Remus doesn’t put up any argument. James stands as he comes forward, weaving one arm over Remus’ shoulders and the other under.

“I am ailing,” you point out. When Remus angles his head on James’ shoulder to give you a concerned look, you add softly, “Not terribly, though.”

Remus chuckles, pushing a spindly hand slowly up and down James’ spine. The other cups the back of his boyfriend’s head, sinking into his plush nap of curls. “I think you’ve worried him down to the bone,” he observes.

There’s a noncommittal hum, followed by a muffled smacking sound as James kisses Remus’ shoulder.

“Have you considered that I’m just soaking up all the hug I can get?”

“Nefarious,” Remus murmurs lovingly.

“I leave the room for two seconds, and of course a lovefest commences.” Sirius strides in with a steaming cup of tea. “It should be outlawed. I feel swindled and scorned.”

“You got to go first,” James argues, but Remus extricates himself from his hold anyway, folding a leg under himself to sit on the couch.

“Irrelevant.” Sirius sets your tea down on the coffee tables, using his free hand to wave James off. “Do either of you want tea?”

“No thank you,” Remus says while James shakes his head. “You didn’t give her chamomile, did you? Because that will only—”

“No,” you all say, you rather mopily.

You scoot towards the table and reach for your tea. Sirius settles into the couch, leaning his back against Remus’ side.

“Alright,” James relents, shutting his laptop, “we can call it quits on the yoga. We were basically at the end of the video anyway.” His big hand lands on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “Want one of us to get a bath ready for you, lovie?”

A whole new ache starts up, right in the center of your chest. You set your tea back on the coffee table, too hot to drink, and lean your head on James’ shoulder. Your throat clogs slightly. So, so sweet to you. A bath does sound nice, but you’re not sure you can commit to it. That’s at least a half hour between you and sleep.

“Thank you,” you say, making sure he hears the sincerity in the words, “but I think I just want to go to bed.”

James’ sigh is so soft you think you’re not meant to hear it. “It’s a bit early for that yet,” he says, thumb swiping back and forth on your shoulder. “How about a massage?”

“I’m tired,” you complain, and you try not to whine but a bit of it comes through anyway.

“I know, love,” Remus says, leaning his elbows onto his knees so that his face is nearly level with yours, “but if you nap now you won’t be able to sleep tonight, and then you’ll be tired all over again tomorrow.” He reaches across the coffee table, the tips of his fingers brushing yours. “This is to help you, I promise.”

You let your little sigh fan cool air over your tea, raising it again to your lips as you nod.

“Go for the massage,” Sirius says. He raises his eyebrows at you, grinning like he’s letting you in on some sort of secret. “Trust me, babe. Jamie missed his calling with that one. Hands of an angel.”

You look over, and James is grinning so hugely you wonder if his ears pop. “Alright, fine.” He shrugs, feigning reluctance. “After I’m done with her, you can have next turn.”

686 notes · View notes

luciferlightbringer · 7 months

Text

Love in a Hopeless Place

Chapter 10

Chapter 9|Chapter 10|Chapter 11|Updated through Chapter 12

Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 3.6k CW: Slowburn, Angst, Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, depression, anxiety, insecurity,

Over the next couple of days, Charlie and the hotel crew started to prepare for their little "intervention" dinner with her dad. Charlie and Vaggie worked together to make up dinner while the others made sure the place was kept up, mostly Niffty.

Later that night, Charlie heard a knock on the front door. Was that him? Why didn't he just teleport in like usual? Charlie went to open the door and saw Lucifer giving his big focused smile.

"Charlie! It's so good to see you," he said enveloping his daughter in a big hug. It had been weeks since he had hugged anyone, the sting of how much he missed it had started to grow back.

"Hi Dad," Charlie said hugging her father back tightly and swinging him around. "I've missed you so much, it's been weird not having you around as much."

Lucifer tightened his grip on Charlie as they hugged, "I'm- sorry about that sweetie, I just... got busy. I'll try to be better about that, I promise."

Charlie loosened the hug enough to study her dad's face, it was tired and worn out, he looked like he hadn't slept in days. Lucifer tried hard to keep his facade up, but he knew his daughter was trying to read him.

"Dad... are you sure you are ok?" Charlie asked with concern.

"Yes. Why do you ask?" he said still trying to hold a smile, holding a silence but futile prayer that he could find a way to fool her into thinking he was ok.

The other members of the hotel, Angel, Husk, Niffty, Cherri, Vaggie, even Alastor started to walk in from the shadows of the hotel lobby.

"Cuz, with all due respect your highness," Husk chimed in "One, you are a bad liar, two, we actually do care about you," Husk looked over to Alastor out of the side on his eye, "well... most of us care about you, and three... we are also worried about (y/n)."

"Ya!" Angel added in, "You two were a couple of peas in a pod, she was even talkin' 'bout wantin' to move in here, den 'poof', ya both are nowhere ta be seen fa' weeks. What gives?! I thought we mattered to you guys!"

"Ya! I miss you and our girl, where is she?!" Cherri pipped in, "We loved watching you two hangin' out here togetha."

"She was a bad girl! But she was really nice! I liked when she would listen to me talk about my bugs fights!" Niffty added, holding up her knife.

Alastor sighed, "Honestly, I'm mostly here for the entertainment of your sorrow... but (y/n) was important to the growth of the hotel and it's community. Plus, she amuses me. I had grown unfortunately fond of her charms," Alastor said with a wicked smile, his comment made the room pause a moment, Lucifer glared at him.

"We miss both of you, sir, it's just not the same here without you. We just kinda feel like we've been left in the dark," Vaggie added, rubbing her arm.

Lucifer sighed, he didn't realize just how much you had meant to not just Charlie, but to the entire hotel. That you guys together had been. It was important for them to know the truth.

"Ok, ok... I'll tell you the truth... but it isn't going to be pretty," Lucifer said with shame painting his face. Lucifer went to go sit on the couch and the others came to sit around him and listen to the story. Lucifer gave an abbreviated story of the last several months of his time with you, truth that you were actually a prostitute he had hired, the story with how it all started with the conversation with Ozzie, the first appointment and the chaos and joy that cam from it, how you had helped him to connect with Charlie and the hotel again, how you supported either other through the stresses of the war with Heaven, how he protected you, how he realized he had fallen in love with you, and then the last night you were together, the blur and confusion of it all, and how finally you had banned him from being able to be scheduled with you again and how you had been told that the whole dynamic was just her acting like she cared about him. He didn't blame or try to paint you in a bad light, he was just defeated and sad.

During the story, the group went through a series of emotions, all of them now understanding why you had not able to talk about your relationship with him at all.

"Damn it! No wonder I liked her so much! She's in da same industry as me!" shouted Angel when the story was over, "She felt so kindred and I couldn't fuckin' see it. Oh, she is good."

"So... none of your relationship was real?" Charlie asked, sadly.

Lucifer shook his head, "No... no I don't think it was."

Husk shook his head, "You're wrong." Everyone looked at him. "Something here doesn't add up, Angel, Cherri, you remember our conversation with (y/n) the night before the war with heaven?" They nodded, Husk looked at Lucifer, "The only lie I have ever seen (y/n) tell you was that she was sad that night because of the war, which... she still was... but the reason she was sad before you came over to check on her was because she was sad that she could not be honest with us about your guy's relationship. We had asked her about what was up because you guys seemed more than friends, and she told us she could not talk about it. And she has tried to bluff some things about how she presents herself before when we first met her, probably all just to protect the secret you guys had. Trust me when I say, she was never fake with how much I saw she cared about you."

Lucifer shrugged, "It doesn't seem to matter though it though... in the end, she banned me."

"Why?" asked Angel, "Did she tell you? Did you ever hurt her?"

"No. Someone else at the place she works called me and told me, she was gone or... something. I don't know if I hurt her, never physically, but I was so drunk at the end of our last night together... I don't know what I did or why I got banned... and I'd never want to cross a boundary like that... she's had too many fucked up people in her life... I don't want to add to that club any more than I already had," he buried his face in his hands, "it sounds like keeping the secret was already a lot of weight on her, I didn't realize..."

"King, listen, I've been in the sex business for a long time, nothin' about this situation makes sense ta me, both from a sex worka' standpoint or from what I know about her. Did you pay her well?" Angel ask inquisitively.

Lucifer nodded, "Ya, I gave her big tips too, I wanted to to be happy and get what she needed."

"No good sex worka' in their right mind would full on ban you for one weird night, even if you did rough 'em up a bit. You told us there was some other client that had been roughin' her up a bit that you took care of. Tell me, did she ban him on the first night of havin' any issues with him?" Angel asked. Lucifer shook his head, starting to think about Angel's words.

"Right. So unless she was stupid, which I know she aint, she wouldn't've cut off probably the best paycheck in hell just because you had one sloppy drunk night where something may have gone weird. Also, on top a dat, sex worka's can be good actors and can pretend like they care. But they try not to get attached, and like Husker said earlier, she got attached, and boy it was obvious. That's probably a big reason why I didn't sus her out sooner. By da time we met her, nothin' about ya relationship was actin' anymore, on either side. Cuz you love 'er, dontcha?" Angel pointed while he leaned back on the couch.

Everyone looked at Lucifer, he nodded, "I do, I love her."

Angel nodded, "And you would do anythin' to make 'er happy, including keepin' yourself away from her if you thought it would make her happier, isn't dat right?"

Lucifer started to tear up, "Yes..." Charlie started to tear up and hugged her dad.

"Therefore... there is something fishy happenin' here, there must be some form of miscommunication, or... a third party that likes messin' with shit," Angel looked up at the ceiling thinking.

"How do you know all this?" asked Vaggie suspiciously. Angel looked over at Vaggie and have her a sly smile, "When you're life was spent in da Mafia and your afterlife was spent around shitty desperate sex worka's that are dying to get a taste of your success by any means necessary, you pick up on a few things, baby."

Charlie perked up, "You think someone at her work did this?"

Angel shrugged, "It's very possible, not 100%, but it's possible. Lucifer, did (y/n) ever talk about having any issues with other girls at her workplace?"

Lucifer thought a moment, "Hmm... she mentioned there being some annoying girls that she some sometimes needed to put in their place, but nothing this crazy hostile. But then again, she didn't like talking about the Lounge much, and I didn't like asking because I started to get more sad whenever I was reminded that I was just a client to her."

"The Lounge, like the Luxurious Lady's Lounge in the Entertainment district?" asked Angel.

"Ya... you know it?" asked Lucifer.

Angel smiled, "Know it? Ha! Sure do. I know exactly where it is too. May have even seen 'er once or twice without knowin' it"

Charlie smiled at her dad, "Dad, if we know where she is, we should just go and talk to her!"

Lucifer shook his head, "Oh. No, no, nonononono, Charlie... I can't do that."

"Why not? Dad, come on, we can try clearing all this up!" Charlie pleaded.

Lucifer sighed, "I just... until I know for sure that she didn't actually ban me, I won't want to risk that. It's just not a good idea... Plus, I don't want to attract more attention to her if she is having issues there," Lucifer hung his head.

Charlie thought for a minute, then a lightblub went off, Charlie got down to Lucifer's eye level, "Dad, she may have "banned" you for seeing her... but not me! I could go talk to her!"

"Charlie, hold on, dis is a bad idea," Angel piped up, everyone looked at him confused, "Rememba' what happened when you tried to talk to Val for me?" Charlie thought for a second remembering the disaster that was, feeling the guilt return at the memory. Angel smiled, "Obviously I need to go with you!" The room erupted into laughter, Angel almost had them for a second, even Lucifer managed to crack a smile in his down mood.

"You guys are really willing to do this for me?" he asked looking to Charlie and Angel.

Charlie looked at Angel and back to her dad, and grabbed Lucifer's hands, "Yes, for you... and for us."

Lucifer smiled, "Ok... but can we actually have dinner before you go? I was anticipating an actual dinner instead of an intervention, but I guess I should have expected both." The room filled with laughter again and the group set up for dinner before Charlie and Angel would head out to find the Lounge, and more importantly, you.

______________________________________________________________

Later that evening, you were hanging out in the lobby of the Lounge, the same way that you had the nights before Lucifer had started to take up more of your schedule. You were still getting clients, but it was back to the old torturous monotony as before, but it somehow felt worse now that you had gotten a taste of love... or what you thought had been love. Every client made you wish you were back in Lucifer's arms, wanting to explore Lucifer's body... not this shithole and all it's shitty clients.

You felt yourself grow more bitter as you saw Cynthhhhia grow back in popularity with the customers, it seemed her few days on the phones really scared her into staying in her lane, especially because Larry had apparently made her take all of the calls during those three days. Something did not sit right with you about her more recent success, but you didn't want to turn into another her. Plus, the happier she was, the more she left you alone. Guess there had to be a bright side, somewhere.

You were sitting on your favorite couch in a long, blue, shear, flowy robe, when you saw a tall pair of individuals walk into the lobby. But not just any two tall people, two that you recognized, Angel and Charlie. You eyes went wide, and you quickly slinked off to the dressing room to hide.

'What the hell? What are they doing there?!' you thought to yourself. You hoped they hadn't seen you, even though your time with Lucifer was up, you still wanted to keep his secret about the two of you.

Charlie and Angel walked up to the front counter where Larry was standing he did a double-take seeing both of them.

"Whoooaaa, Princess Morningstar! And the famous Angel Dust! What an honor to have you two in to join us this evening. Are we interested in having a little fun tonight? I am surprised, I didn't think one of Val's best boys would be needin' to pay for fun. Unless... you are looking for a change in employment?" He flashed a sharp smile.

Charlie piped up, "Hi! Uhh, Charlie is just fine. And no, neither of those things. We are here looking for one of your girls, (y/n)."

"Is she here tonight?" Angel added.

"Uhh... ya. What business do you have with her?" Larry asked, wondering how they knew her.

"She's a friend ah mine," Angel chimed in, "She's mean MIA for a few weeks and we have been worried about 'er, we were wantin' to check in on her. Charlie has gotten to know her a little too and wanted to come with."

"Can we pleaseee see her?" Charlie pleaded.

Larry thought for a moment, "I don't know, she is still on the clock for several more hours. I can't just let her off early." Charlie and Angel look at each other and nod, Charlie pulls out an bunch of cash, "Will this cover her for the rest of the night." Larry smiled as the amount of money in her hands, it was more than enough.

"I do believe that will work Ms. Mornin- uhh, Charlie," Larry said taking the cash, "Let me go get her." Charlie is glad that she learned that in some situations like this, money talked more than words or power. She came more prepared than she had with her conversation with Valentino over getting more of Angel's time.

Larry searched around before finding you in the dressing room, "Hey Babydoll, you've been bought out for the rest of the night by some friends of yours, Angel Dust and Charlie Morningstar. I didn't know you knew them." He said giving you a look.

They bought you out for the rest of the night? Did they come here specifically to find you? How did they know you were here? Did... did Lucifer tell them? You felt some fear and hope bloom in your chest.

"Oh, haha ya, you know me, I'm just not one to talk about my personal life at work," you gave Larry a big smile. He laughed, "Alright, keep your secrets, sounds like they wanted to talk to you about something, worried about you. Go show 'em a good time tonight, ok?" You nodded, and quickly switching out to a more solid less see-through robe, before walking out to the lobby.

Angel and Charlie saw you coming, Charlie ran to you but you stopped her short of you, "Not here, come with me," and you led your friends up to you apartment. Once you were inside you room and the door was locked, you said "Ok now you can hug me if you want to."

This time, both Charlie and Angel want to embrace you at the same time, starting to tear up a little.

"Oh my god, (y/n)! It's so good to see you! We were so worried about you!" Charlie asked.

"Ya! When you and Lucifer stopped showing up at the hotel to visit, we started worrying, babe," Angel added.

"Wait... hold up, Lucifer stopped showing up to the hotel? How did you know I was here?" you asked.

"We sat my Dad down and he finally broke and told us the truth about everything," Charlie said.

"Ya, he spilled da beans on your guy's relationship, you don't have to keep his secret from us anymore," Angel added.

Tears started to well up in your eyes, "I don't?!" The two nodded. You started to sob and hugged them back. "I- I'm so sorry, I- I didn't want to lie to anyone but he wanted to keep it discreet, which I understand, he is the King! And it was so confusing, and then, one night he got really drunk one night, and it worried me, he wasn't acting like himself, and told me he loved me, but, but I didn't know if I could believe him. And he was getting all touchy and doe eyed, and I didn't know what was really what he wanted because it was all so sudden. So I ran! I ran because I was so scared, and- and- and-" Charlie and Angel both hugged you and tried to shushed you through your crying.

"It's ok, no one is mad at you. That sounds like a hard position to be in, it sounds like there was a lot of confusion on both sides," Charlie said.

"Confusion?" you sniffled, "Is that why he hasn't called to schedule with me again?"

Charlie and Angel looked at each other then back to you, "You didn't ban him then?"

You blinked, "WHAT?! Why on earth would anyone think I blocked him?! No! I freaked out and went on a trip for a few days to clear my head. I came back and I was told that he said he would call to reschedule, and then he just never did! I thought he hated me!"

"No!" Charlie cried, "No, Oh my god, he is a total wreck without you! He misses you like crazy! He thinks he was put on your "No Kiss List" or something"

"We can't even say your name without him shuttin' down and lookin' like we killed his dog or somethin'," Angel added, Charlie gave him a look, "What?! It's true!"

You sat down on the couch and stared out for a minute, thinking, "Why didn't he come to ask me himself?"

Charlie shrugged, "He doesn't remember what happened that night, he is convinced that he hurt you terribly and that it's why you banned him. He didn't want to hurt you so he respected that wish. We tried to get him to come tonight but he was scared in case you really had banned him."

You thought for a few more moments, who could have caused this? Who would have done this to you both. Your eyes widened. No, could this have been... did Cynthhhhia do this? Would she have been the one to make the calls that day since that was her punishment. You were pretty sure, but you didn't want to act without proof. You clenched your fists, starting to fill with rage.

"Is he at the hotel?" They nodded. You thought again, "Can you take me to him?" They nodded again with more excitement.

"I have just one question for you, before we go," Charlie started, looking into your eyes, "Tell me truthfully, do you actually care about my dad, not just for an income, but as a person?"

You took Charlie's hands in your own, "Charlie, I really do... more than anything... in fact... I'm pretty sure I'm in love with him." Charlie and Angel squealed and jumped up and down.

"That's all I needed to hear, let's do this!" Charlie declared.

You took a few minutes to get dressed, and soon you were off to see Lucifer again. Cynthhhhia eyed you a little as you left, wondering what you were doing with the most famous porn star in the Pride Ring and the Princess of Hell. She rolled her eyes and went back to chatting it up with her next client out it the lobby, it was probably nothing of substance, and she already had big enough fish to fry to keep her focused on herself. Although, she did briefly amuse herself with the idea of seducing the Princess' father, oh how wonderful a dream that would be, but she knew better than to put more thought into that. Why would the King of Hell ever need a prostitute? She laughed to herself.

You, on the other hand, were so full of fear and excitement at the idea of seeing actually Lucifer again, it felt like a dream and you were scared to wake up. But if Charlie and Angel's reaction was any indication of anything, maybe Brooklyn had been right after all.

______________________________________________________________

Thank you for putting up with torment! I made sure to get through this one quickier so that there was a return of hope. Next chapter they will finally talk in out, and then... a certain someone may see justice 😈

As usual, leave a comment if you want added to the taglist so that you can get notifications when future chapters drop! xoxo, dany (OMG there are so many of you!😍 Please let me know if the tag isn't working for you) Taglist :(red names are not tagging for some reason 😢)

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roosterr · 1 year

Text

white flag ✹ epilogue

note: im kinda sad to say, but this will be the final part of this series! im so so grateful for all the love and support for it, this was honestly so fun to write! i hope everyone enjoys and have a wonderful day/night!!!!<3<3<3

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 1.7k

no use of y/n

reader's callsign is 'stingray'

summary: your night in date with simon :)

warnings: domesticity, so much fluff, soap and gaz are wingmen again, tiny bit of light angst

ao3

【prev】

of all the things in this world that could be considered intimidating, flowers were the last thing simon would put on that list; but the brightly coloured flora seemed to have a paralysing effect on him as he stands in the tiny flower shop.

with a quiet, defeated groan to himself, he dials johnny's number and presses his phone to his ear.

"what flowers am i supposed to buy?" he blurts no sooner than soap picks up, not even bothering to greet him in his haste.

"hello to you too?" johnny mumbles, his confusion evident. a moment passes before he registers what simon asked, "oh! wait," he laughs, his voice getting further away as he lowers his phone to call out, "gaz, get out here! lt.'s buyin' sting flowers!"

simon considers hanging up then and there, but he's severely out of his depth and unfortunately, soap and gaz are his only hope.

"oh i see, he needs an expert opinion, does he?" kyle's teasing gets louder as he approaches soap, and he can hear the smile in both the sergeants' voices.

really, simon should've known they wouldn't let him off easy.

"christ alive…" he keeps his voice as low as possible, pinching the bridge of his nose in the corner of the small shop. "just help me, you pillock." the cashier has been staring at him since he walked in, and honestly, he doesn't blame them; a giant man in a mask isn't exactly the regular clientele for a florist.

"uh, probably their favourite?" soap suggests, the sound of gaz's muffled chuckling just about audible in the background.

"they don't have 'em." simon replies, his eyes darting over the vibrant display one last time in the hopes that the answer would somehow appear.

"nah, you want roses, mate." gaz interjects, and he hears soap make an agreeing noise.

simon hums. "aren't they too… cliché?" he asks, stepping over to the large display of rose bouquets. it's the classic choice, he's aware of that much, but whether or not you'd prefer something more unique was weighing on his mind. this was something he never expected to have to worry about.

"no! they're romantic," gaz insists, his amusement still very evident in his voice, "trust me mate, sting'll love them."

simon contemplates his point for a moment, staring at the deep red petals and trying to imagine the look on your face if he gave them to you. you'd been happy with a handful of squashed flowers he'd stolen from the flowerbeds on base, so he doubted you'd turn your nose up at them. it doesn't take him long to make a decision.

"alright, cheers." he mutters, grabbing a lively looking bouquet of a dozen from the display and making his way over to the cashier – who was quickly trying to pretend they hadn't been staring.

"you'll need to give us a debrief–" soap begins, but he's cut off by simon hanging up and shoving his phone back in his pocket. he gets the feeling he won't be hearing the end of this for quite some time.

✹✹✹

it's only when he's standing outside the door to your room that the nerves finally start to set in. he can't help but feel like an idiot, fidgeting on the spot about to knock on your door like a lovestruck teenager, almost crushing the stems of the roses with his iron grip.

he knocks twice, before he has the chance to change his mind and back out. not even a second later, you're pulling the door open and regarding him with that warm look that has his palms sweating.

you're wearing casual clothes, and so is he, as per the agreement you made to keep this 'date' simple. it doesn't matter what you're wearing though; he's seen you covered head to toe in blood, sweat, mud, and whatever else, and you still manage to be utterly breathtaking in every way.

with a nervous cough, simon holds out the rose bouquet to you, hoping you don't notice the way his hands are shaking.

"wha…" you blink in surprise at the flowers, taking them from him and admiring them with a tiny smile. "you bought these, right? didn't just rip 'em out of someone's garden?" you raise a teasing eyebrow at him, your smile turning more playful.

"yes, i bought them." he grumbles lightheartedly, a smile of his own forming under his balaclava. the way you effortlessly diffuse the tension has his anxieties melting away.

"thank you." you breathe, softly caressing the vermillion petals. "they're lovely, i love them."

simon let's out a quiet sigh of relief at your affirmation. "good; cost me a tenner, they did."

the laugh you let out is like music to his ears. "well, i'm sorry to bankrupt you." you grin, turning back into your room and carefully putting the bouquet in the vase on the mantle. after making sure the arrangement looks nice, you come to stand in front of him again.

simon's not sure how to continue, the nerves from earlier resurfacing as the conversation fades. the way you're watching him expectantly, he feels the urge to take you by the hand – and as if you read his his mind, you hold it out for him. he places his hand in yours, squeezing gently and leading you the short distance to the kitchen.

he'd set the table earlier, having found an only slightly discoloured tablecloth buried in the back of the cupboards. it's a little sad, but it was the best he could come up with.

"wow," you tease, the same playful smile as before on your lips as you meet his eyes, "so fancy."

he snorts, ushering you over to your chair and pulling out for you. "only the best for your majesty." he preens at your happiness when you laugh again, glad for the mask covering what he's sure is an obvious blush.

he occupies himself by grabbing the two plates he'd finished preparing a minute ago, just before he'd met you at your door.

"i made spag bol." simon mutters as he sets them down on the table. he keeps an eye on your expression as he takes his seat opposite you, anticipation of whatever response you may have.

"fine by me," you say, an easy smile lifting your features. "it's almost the perfect candlelit dinner, all we're missing is the candle."

simon blinks. "you don't like candles." he replies, a hint of confusion in his gaze when he meets your eye.

"no," you smile fondly, looking down at your plate. "i don't."

a comfortable silence falls over the room as you both start to eat. the warmth and normality of it all makes simon’s heart swell with affection. he's happy, content, being here with you, even doing something as monotonous as eating dinner. you make it worth enjoying.

"how is it?" he asks once you've both finished, once again waiting apprehensively for your reaction.

"it's great," you give him a lopsided smile, resting your chin on your hand as you look at him. "thanks for cooking."

simon quirks an eyebrow at you. "you don't have to lie." he mutters, feeling the tips of his ears burn under your intense gaze.

"okay, well, don't quit your day job." you chuckle, standing up and making your way over to the sink with your plate in your hands.

he huffs a small laugh, and joins you at the sink with his own plate. "you're crushin' my dreams here."

"sorry, chef." you grin and gesture to the washing up in the sink. "you wash, i'll dry?"

"if your majesty insists."

you turn on the radio for some quiet background noise, and the two of you start cleaning up in tandem. it's nice, how you can work together so seamlessly with no need for words. he's struck again by the thought that if he were alone this would be a chore, but with you beside him, he finds such a tedious job surprisingly pleasant.

simon hands the last dish to you, and as you take it your fingers brush against his hand. the way he flinches away from your touch is unconscious, and when he looks over to you he expects you to pity him, or be offended by his action – but your face holds neither of those things.

you're just drying the dish he handed you, the same content expression on your face that had been there all night, as if you didn't even notice.

"sorry." he mumbles, his gaze falling from your face to your hands as you work.

simon loves you. he shouldn't be afraid of your touch. he wants to touch you, and for you to touch him. he doesn't know why he reacted like that.

"don't be." you utter, soft and compassionate, and his heart feels like it's about to burst out of his chest. for the third time that night, he's hit full force with how wonderful you are.

there's no judgement, no probing questions, nothing. you understood him, even though you had no idea why he acts this way.

you turn away, your back to him as you store the dishes in the cabinets. you hadn't been looking at him before, but now he was sure you couldn't see him, he feels his throat constrict with the overwhelming urge to burst into tears.

simon takes your free hand and you pause, still facing away as you wait for his next move.

he takes a small step closer, minimising the space between you, and rests his forehead against the back of your head. with his eyes screwed shut, he takes a deep breath and inhales the familiar scent of you. his grip on your hand tightens slightly.

you lean back into him, a quiet sigh escaping you as you squeeze his hand in return. neither of you say a word, but you don't have to. he feels how you love him in the way you never expect more from him than he can give.

it's the most peace he's felt in years.

taglist p1: @sofasoap , @siilvan , @mockerycrow , @i-love-ghost , @projectdreamwalker , @achelois-is-here , @adamsloverboy , @thatchickwiththecamera , @chickensandwich69 , @batmanunicorns523 , @tiny-kasper , @dezibou , @pampeop , @cumbermovels , @goth-boi-atlas , @berryjuicyy , @guiltgoreglory , @postmodernrevolutionist , @untoldshortsofthefandoms , @delilah-grimes , @sunflowerqueen1416 , @luvssemma , @sunshiinegaz , @imonmykneessir , @kenz-ee , @eistro-phobia , @rzmarona , @alanalanalanalanalanna , @cathnoneofyourbusiness ,

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#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #mw2 ghost #roosterr writes

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palajae · 1 year

Text

love me (k)not. | 1k special

PAIRING ▸ niki x reader, slight jungwon x reader

GENRE ▸ soulmate! au, string of fate! au, photographer! au, childhood-friends-to-lovers, romance, fluff, angst, humor, SLOW BURN

WORD COUNT▸ 15.6k

SUMMARY ▸ yes, niki can see the red string of fate that connects two people together. and no, he can’t just tell people who their soulmate is. you’re his only friend but there’s one problem and he can see it quite clearly (and literally)- your string isn’t connected to his.

AKA a reality check that niki loves you, no matter what the universe says.

AN/NOTES ▸ mentions of bullying, slight violence, child experimentation, food, drinking/alcohol (but only with an aged up riki and reader!!), kissing, jungwon being a jerk for a little :(

hi guys did anyone miss me :) it’s been a long ride but due to popular request for longer oneshots here is a very long one that i basically died over! i really hope you guys enjoy it as i worked super hard, and thank you guys again for 1k (more like 1.2k now but) ily 🩷

i. one string, two strings, red strings, new strings.

he doesn’t know when it really started. it simply happened one cloudy afternoon. and it’s not like the subject was completely foreign to riki, oh no, he had definitely heard tales from older people about the topic.

unfortunately for him, it just had to be when he was a mere seven year old. ‘it’ meaning the delicate and thin red strings— almost identical to the yarn his grandma would use for knitting—appearing all around him, encasing him in a world like a spy in a laser trap trying to escape with their precious treasure.

tiny riki frowned, glancing around while still having a tight grip on his mother’s hand in order not to get lost in the vast mall they were currently shopping at. his attention was suddenly caught, eyes focusing on the larger hand he was still holding onto. more specifically, the pinky finger of his mother’s right hand.

a perfect little knot wrapped around her smallest finger.

his eyes followed the string, but it traveled quite far through the crowd of people and he eventually gave up, the string pulling farther than he thought. later would he really figure out the meaning of this, but at the time, he simply tugged on his mother’s shirt, attracting her attention. she glanced down, answering her child with a hum.

cautiously, riki took a quick peek around at the passerby’s, confirming what he saw on what seemed to be about everyone else’s hands as well, almost getting lost in the maze of the red before his eyes flicked up to her.

“what are the red strings for?”

his mother raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to hear better. “what? repeat what you said, riki.”

he stood up straighter, clearing his throat. “i said, what are the red strings on everyone’s hand for?”

riki’s mother paused, a train of thoughts running through her head. once an answer finally appeared, she attempted to calm her suddenly racing heart before squatting down and leaning even closer to her son. she looked him carefully in the eye, and riki can still remember the movement of her lips speaking clearly and slowly, the words that left her lips that day and changed his life forever.

“just like the ones grandpa told you about?”

he remembers exactly what he responded back with.

“yes.”

they went to the doctors eventually for assistance. riki now knows it would’ve been inevitable, and perhaps earlier was better than later.

the doctor returned back with what seemed like an impossible diagnosis: riki can see people’s red strings of fate.

their soulmate connections.

then came the questions, tests, experiments. it lasted for a long time in little riki’s head, and it was indeed a long time for a child. several years- five to be exact. five years spent in a lab, all in solitude, to be kept under control and monitored over time.

riki remembers the overwhelming amount of people. people like the scientists with the tidy white coats and glasses who came in and took his blood or ran tests on his eyes and brain. he also remembers the average people who would occasionally come in, usually a man and woman looking quite anxious and timid, and who would sit down in front of him, both hands clearly in sight of riki.

every time, as if it was natural instinct, his eyes would flick down to their right hand, spotting the tied knot on their pinky. then a scientist would ask questions-

do you see a red string? yes.

can you see who it is connected to? yes.

is it to each other?

yes—most of the time. occasionally, he would answer no with a shake of his head. there was always the variety of responses from the people. a gasp, crestfallen look, maybe even tears. whispers and murmurs would come from the white coated people as they wrote stuff down.

riki was confused. did being soulmates really matter when most people (meaning everyone except riki) never had to ability to see who their soulmate was anyways? people fell in and out of love, regardless.

the lab came up with a final conclusion: most likely, nishimura riki could indeed see people’s soulmates through their red strings. he couldn’t touch the red strings, it was like they were just imaginary, only visible to him. but they had no idea how, but they knew he could see them and if they were connected or not in accordance with his field of vision.

most would think he was just a kid faking it—with a great deal of imagination—but his accuracy of determining two people’s soul connection was a little too frightening to be a childish prank.

form what riki overheard, the government planned to keep his special “power” a secret. after all, riki was just a kid. public knowledge only meant trouble and who knew what else. half argued to leave the poor kid alone, while others vouched to keep him under surveillance for the rest of his life.

either way, riki was forced to keep his mouth shut about his ability—not that he wouldn’t have wanted to say anything anyway.

of course, rumors and secrets still leaked out, but for the most part, riki seemed to be safe. maybe a little too safe. he didn’t really have friends. no, he didn’t have friends at all.

personally, the imaginary ones appearing in his years of loneliness didn’t count. riki possessed a power the world had never seen before, but he had no friends. no childhood. no life.

after five years of living alone in a laboratory surrounded by white lights, white clothes, and more white walls, riki was finally released when the government reached a dead end in their research. how much power could a kid with soulmate seeing abilities wield? the government hoped it was close to none. besides, no one knew when he could get called in again.

his parents? yes, he supposed they did love him. but enough to keep him from being tested on for years and not having a proper life? other would argue it was for the benefit of his “special ability.”

research gave answers that in reality, didn’t have any use. (his parents wouldn’t mention the copious compensation fee the government gave for testing on their son, though).

and riki’s red string himself?

he had to admit, when he was first discovering his newly identified ability, he was also curious about who his soulmate could be. and like many, many others when he took a peek, the string just carried on in the distance, unable to display the carrier of the other end.

once riki was back in the “real world,” he was kept mostly at home during the heat of the summer. but he would always remember the feeling of being taken out of his room and directed outside into a dark, heavily guarded vehicle for occasional checkups. he remembers glancing outside while driving past tall buildings and sometimes seeing countless red strings pass him by, a sight he hadn’t seen since going to the mall with his mother all those years ago.

his mother walked into his room one day with a clean, white envelope in her hands and an unreadable expression on her face. he looked up from his hands, eyes catching her red string hanging again before looking at his mother fully.

“you’re attending a new school, riki.”

ii. eros and psyche.

the cursed rules echo in his mind. they were pretty simple, yet held the heaviest consequences.

don’t tell anyone about your abilities.

especially don’t tell anyone about their soulmate.

it wasn’t his choice to. it’s not like he wanted to, either. even at the mere age of twelve, riki wasn’t one to mess with fate or whatever the universe was doing to him. the red lines invaded his personal space, but at some point it didn’t bother him anymore.

what really bothered him was the daunting task of attending school. learning in person, having homework, interacting with others.

riki was educated at the labs, but that schooling came in the form of simple workbooks and videos.

needless to say, the first few days were rough.

quite hard.

very hard.

waking up early probably got riki the most. being surrounded by so many other kids was quite overwhelming. especially when they stared at him whenever he passed by like he was different.

which, he was.

everyone else had established their respective friend groups already. he learned why pretty early on, though. why the weird looks and gossip passed by him. it was all because of one girl who just really couldn’t whisper for her life. (even without confirming or denying it, he wondered how they found out?)

he even started to go by niki instead of riki—the one letter difference was the best he could do.

perhaps rumors were spreading quickly around about riki and his ‘power’ to see others’ red strings connected to their soulmates.

not even a week of school and riki already developed his own reputation. a feat of its own, no?

at first, it was hard to adjust to seeing so many other kids, waking up at the crack of dawn, and managing the stupid overload of work—basically what seemed to be about everything. but somehow, riki felt a bit more settled in, if he could even describe it as that.

he was quiet, extremely, but still very well known around the school. his grades weren’t bad after all, it turns out riki was pretty alright at “school”, although he mostly slept in class or daydreamed away.

the one thing he could admit he failed at as a human (albeit a ‘special’ human) was socialization.

yeah, riki had basically no friends and he embraced it.

he sat in the back of the class, spoke a total of four words per day, and occasionally messed around. if he really felt like it, he would put in his earbuds and listen to his mixtape like an angsty teen before going home for the day.

all day. all week. on repeat.

if his mother was ever concerned and asked, his rationale would be that riki simply didn’t trust other people. he forced himself to stop caring about and looking at everyone’s red string and soulmates, or anything related.

yet he still had to deal with strangers confronting him and asking who their soulmate was. it was all random people to him, mostly. so who knew what would happen if he became friends with someone, just to discover they used him to find out their soulmate?

even years later, his theory is proven to be accurate.

why, riki internally sighs, do people think they can get whatever they want, whenever they want?

the two girls in front of him, he finally spares them a glance. he just wanted to call it a day, go home and watch some anime or something, not have two random girls pounce on him after school. he barely manages to keep his mouth shut.

“so,” one of them says, arms crossed and eyebrow raised, “can you tell us who our soulmates are?”

which obviously translates to: tell us now or you’ll suffer the consequences.

he takes out an earbud nonchalantly, a blank expression on his face.

“no thanks.”

she takes a step closer, and his eye twitches. “but you can.”

her eyes glare into his, and her friend does the same.

“i can, but will i?” riki asks sarcastically, annoyance beginning to reach its limit. when one of them grabs his shoulder, he starts to panic.

“get your hand off me.” his voice is cold.

“or what?” they mock.

riki grits his teeth, attempting to cool down. he can’t fight back—not just because he doesn’t want to hit them, but because it’ll attract unnecessary attention and that’s the last thing he needs.

the girls giggle that same annoying high pitched sound, although it’s not a blissful or joyful one, it sounds more like a warning with a malicious edge to it.

“oh come on, won’t you be nice to us girls? we’ll let you-“

one hand reaches out and he dodges so quickly they have to pause for a second.

“don’t touch me,” riki puffs out, barely keeping it together.

“i said-“

“how many times does he have to tell you two to leave him alone?”

that was the first time.

the very first time riki ever laid eyes on you, and the very first time his eyes didn’t immediately fall to your hand and red string.

they scowl, about to retort when you shrug uninterestedly, revealing your phone camera pointing straight at them. “i can just report you guys for bullying, you know, or like harassment.”

their eyes widen, before flashing you that look- the one blatantly showing that they just cursed at you silently- before furiously stalking off.

silence follows as you put your phone away and riki collects himself.

you turn to him, voice and expression softer than earlier.

“you good?”

riki shrugs, about to turn away.

“w-wait!” you call out hesitantly. he stops, on the verge of leaving regardless of what you have to say.

“uh, don’t worry. i didn’t actually record anything, just made it look like i did.”

you inhale, trying your best to ignore the awkward atmosphere. “i think we have some classes together? my name’s y/n.”

his eyes flick to yours for a split second before looking away. riki barely nods, putting his earbud back in.

you clear your throat. “and yours is?”

you can barely hear his quiet mutter of an answer before he walks off, leaving you alone in the hallway. you already knew what it was, you just wanted to hear his voice at least once. but his answer leaves you frowning (wondering if you didn’t hear him properly or didn’t clean your own ears properly.)

riki, you contemplate thoughtfully.

regardless of if he was niki or riki, it sounded nicer coming from himself than it did from others.

surprisingly enough, he runs into you again the next day. or not really, you sort of just found your way towards him in the back of the classroom and plopped your stuff down right beside riki.

he didn’t notice you because of his earbuds in until you tap his shoulder, sending a small smile. riki stays emotionless, acknowledging your presence with a quick glance over.

he can’t count the amount of times you attempted at keeping up conversation before giving up. riki would later regret the short, blunt answers he always gave in return. but it baffled him, how you would never mention the red strings or anything related.

you talked about normal things like a normal person, and like riki was a normal person. it was weird how he could learn so much about you based on what you said in a day.

like how you would complain about the astounding amount of homework but always did it all on time and aced every single test. or when you said you were starving but during lunch he would catch you giving your packed lunch to your other friends who were just as hungry as you.

even how you would never fail to greet and sit next to riki, and randomly mutter under your breath for no reason.

he didn’t understand you and how pervasive you were. when he’s a hard concrete wall and you’re still pounding at it every single time. but deep down, he never failed to see your lively soul.

riki’s encountered so many different people with differing intentions, and yet you stand out. he just can’t figure you out.

you pass him the paper for attendance one day and he mutters a small thanks. you practically do a double take, staring at him for a good five seconds before beaming down at your paper. riki doesn’t miss that, either.

he doesn’t know how it happens. you talk to him, and he feels himself responding before he can realize it. you never once mentioned the words red string or soulmate ever. perhaps that was what led him to feel a bit more safe around you. maybe his guard was never let down completely, but you certainly had some effect on him.

maybe, you two became friends. although riki didn’t even know what friends even were. even the school picked up on it quite easily. one of the most brilliant kids in the grade hanging with the outcast- the weird kid who never said a word.

riki doesn’t understand. you have your own friends–he assumes. why even bother with him?

you start sitting next to him at lunch, for crying out loud.

not that he minded, it was actually nice to sit next to someone and not an empty chair or desk.

“hey,” you plop down next to riki, stuffing a grape into your mouth. “what’d you get on the test?”

he looks up. “which one?”

you sigh, taking out a binder.

“history.”

riki takes out an earbud, blinking. “78. you?”

you tsk while popping another grape into your mouth. “i thought our study session was helpful. i got a 97.”

he scoffs, nothing your displeased expression. “you’re smart. you should be happy.”

you raise your eyebrows, ready to retort.

“ you’re smart too, nishimura riki.”

“-if you stopped watching anime all day.”

you just barely manage to dodge the flying grape aimed at you.

you take the seat next to him, taking out one of his earbuds with an intent expression. riki looks up at the loss of sound in his left ear, eyebrows furrowed to object. he stops when he sees you.

“you wanna hang out after class?”

“no.”

you pout. “why not?”

he shrugs. “ask my mom.”

“i personally think she would be ecstatic with you going out instead of staying cooped up inside all day.”

he has to stay silent at that.

triumphant, you pack up your stuff, not bothering to wait for his answer. “five pm at the gates.”

he shows up. riki wasn’t that big of a jerk (at least he thinks so).

he did again when you invited him out after that. and again, and again.

even when you both start adding more and more layers to your everyday outfits, nothing changes. even when exams started and the pink blossoms began falling from the trees.

it’s like one second you were having one sided conversations and the next thing you know, you’re laying down next to each other in the grass during your lunch break.

“so you literally just see the strings?”

oh, yeah.

that was one of the things about you that made riki dumbfounded. at first, you didn’t say a single word about his ability. but as riki let his guard down and opened up more, he realized it was because you actually had no clue. somehow all the rumors that were spread about him never reached you. but once you found out, you did not stop asking questions. countless questions about his “really, really cool superpower” as you deemed it.

“yeah. i see it.”

“everyday? all the time?”

he shoots you a look. “no, i can just sneeze and it’ll turn off.”

“really?”

“no, stupid.”

you huff, hands behind your head as you turn to glance at him and he averts his gaze quickly from your face.

“that’s cool. but you probably wish you could turn it off, right?”

all the time, he thinks bitterly. maybe even permanently.

“can you touch them?”

“i told you already that i can’t!” he shifts, “besides, why would i want to—everyone would just be staring at me like i was a psycho if they just saw me creepily petting the air or whatever.”

he watches your reaction, seeing the corners of your mouth tilt up as you imagine it, and it makes his as well. there’s something satisfying about seeing your reaction that makes him unable to resist.

you abruptly stop, murmuring, “we’re friends, right?”

he pauses, swallowing. “uh, sure. what makes you ask that?” quickly, you shake your head. “oh no, i just never asked you before. wanted confirmation.”

“your only friend, right?” you add jokingly, and he elbows your side.

“i’m kidding-“

“...but i like that,” you add quietly.

a petal flutters down from the tree above you, landing in your hair. you don’t notice as you’re distracted, but riki does. as you start to speak again, he lifts a hand and delicately picks it out. you stop mid sentence as riki watches you gently.

he swallows, and you quickly clear your throat.

it was true. suddenly, riki’s quite glad that he didn’t know who your—his only friend—soulmate was. why, he’s not sure. all riki knows is that he doesn’t want to find out who your soulmate is.

and he’d never admit it, but it was probably (definitely) fear. fear at who your string was connected to. why?

he had no clue and that scared him even more.

riki’s pulled along by your surprisingly strong grip, weaving through corridors and into an empty classroom. a couple of students stare as you two pass by, apparently still not over the fact that you and riki could be friends—let alone be in the same room.

panting, you shut the door and lock it, but stay close to watch out through the window quietly. riki notices your hand still tightly intertwined with his but he decides to keep quiet.

“what’s going on?” he whispers. your gaze breaks away from the window in order to reply to him. “this guy keeps following me-i’m pretty sure it’s the one who left the confession note in my locker and won’t leave me alone during the periods i don’t have with you.”

“someone likes you?” he asks incredulously, and you slap a hand over his mouth, shushing him fiercely as you continue your patrol from inside the classroom.

his insides suddenly feel unpleasant. it’s already uncomfortable and stuffy enough in the room, being squished next to you behind the door so no one- well, apparently this annoying guy who’s stalking you- can find your whereabouts. he doesn’t know who this person is, but he doesn’t like it. not one bit.

suddenly, there’s a voice coming from outside, one asking for the location of you. a couple of female ones answer, and riki figures they must belong to the girls from earlier who saw you guys pass by.

you gasp, and riki feels your grip tighten. you pull him in closer so you’re practically squished together against the door, breaths held as quietly as possible.

it takes everything in him not to squirm as riki waits, he fears you can hear the sound of his heart pounding.

two… three… five minutes pass. only when you hear complete silence do you release him. flustered, riki pulls away, attempting to fix his wrinkled uniform so you don’t notice his reaction.

it must’ve been a clear success, as you only heave a sigh of relief and flash a mischievous grin towards riki.

“i think we’re good, let’s get out of here!”

you don’t make any leeway for him, escaping past the door and out the classroom without a sound.

riki pauses, taking a second to catch his breath. the past few seconds of your close proximity replay in his mind. he shakes it off, brushing the weird sensation in his gut.

still, he wonders if there was any chance you felt that too. or was it just him?

you throw your arm around riki, sporting a grin with a creepy similarity to that of the cheshire cat’s. he flinches at your action, almost cursing in the middle of the crowd of students. “what do you want?”

by this point, finally after two years, most people had gotten used to the sight of the two of you. all the gossip and whispers behind your back flew over his head—and it had never bothered you in the first place.

you stifle a laugh. “no need to be so grumpy. come on, follow me.” you weave through the hallway of crowded kids and riki struggles to keep up, puzzled.

he follows you to the somewhat empty courtyard, sitting down on a nice patch of grass as you wait for him to get settled. “why did you take me out here?”

you roll your eyes, “patient as ever, nishimura riki.” you dig through your messy school bag before your eyes light up.

“close your eyes,” you order.

he does as you say, no questions asked. riki feels a delicate sensation on his wrist—at this point he can recognize your warmth pretty easily.

“all done.”

he cautiously peeks his eyes open only to see you staring expectantly back at him. soon, his gaze falls down to where he felt your light touch before.

a simple, silver chain wraps around his thin wrist.

pretty.

confused, riki furrows his eyebrows, meeting your eyes that glimmer with a strange compassion.

you hold up your own hand with a cute smile that makes his heart pound, displaying a matching bracelet—identical to his.

“it’s not much but, happy birthday, riki.”

to think that he himself didn’t even remember his own birthday. you beam at him, and he feels his ears grow red.

“do you like it?”

“y-yeah,” he mumbles and you nod in satisfaction. “good, because i spent my own money out of my pocket for it. it wasn’t cheap, you know.”

his eyes widen and you press your lips together. “in exchange, you have to promise me something.”

under the peacefully swaying trees, under the warm sunlight and buzzing spring, he realizes he could promise you anything.

you hold out your left pinky. “you’ll stick by my side no matter what. promise me that.”

he opens his mouth to speak but you’re faster, raising your other pointer finger to cover his lips. “just promise me or else i’ll take away your gift.”

your childlike orbs envelop him, full of life and sincerity—he knows he’ll never forget that day.

nor when his own pinky reaches up to link with yours.

riki remembers the day as clear as a fresh glass of water, a still puddle of rain that collected after the summer thunderstorms.

you met up with him in first period as you usually did, ruffling his hair with an easy grin as he grumbles (albeit with an affectionate look that you failed to notice).

class continued on normally, somewhat rowdy as always before the teacher came in. you get up to grab something on the floor, hair falling into your eyes. as usual, riki watches over you before spotting your foot catching on one of the chair’s legs. he quickly shouts out a warning, grabbing your wrist in order to balance you as your head whips up.

he catches you, staring at you in concern and making sure you’re alright. you stare at him in shock, flustered and without a response. he chides you with a roll of his eyes, mumbling something about how clumsy you always were and how he always had to watch out for you.

you can’t seem to form any words, so you just snatch your arm back and sit down. riki wordlessly offers a earbud to you, and you accept it with a smile. it’s something you got used to doing, sharing music and playlists with each other.

even as others made fun of you for doing supposedly cheesy couple things, you ignored them. but it did make you wonder. did you and riki seem like a couple? were you?

you guys were young, you had all of high school still to get through together.

what did it mean?

your thoughts get interrupted by the teacher opening the door. everyone settles down, attention focusing.

but today, it was different. it wasn’t just your teacher walking in.

there was an addition. an addition that came in the form of a handsome looking boy, around the same age as you guys.

the teacher introduces him as a transfer student. yang jungwon, he smiles and riki swears people swoon. everyone’s attention is on him, even yours is as you all study him curiously.

riki swore he was past all that looking at people’s soulmate strings and connections. it had been so long since he tried to put two and two together. it was a whole invasion of privacy, and he simply didn’t want to bother himself with other people’s affairs and relations.

but once he saw that new kid step into the room, riki can only focus on his hand, the first thing that came into his view.

and like it was in slow motion, he follows the tiny red string on his pinky down the row of desks to someone sitting a few inches away from riki himself, obviously not paying attention and oblivious to everything while listening to a shared earbud— you.

he almost thinks his eyes are fooling him. it was barely connected by that thin, cursed string. and that’s when it really hits him.

that string was connected to yours.

that string meant your soulmate just walked into the classroom—

and it certainly wasn’t riki.

“jungwon’s really cool. did you know he did taekwondo since he was….”

riki ignores the chatter in the halls as he walks by, brooding as always. but this week was a bit harsher. probably, no, definitely because of the new student jungwon.

ever since he joined your class, people had been talking about him nonstop. it seemed like jungwon was one of the popular kids now, without even doing anything. riki didn’t get what was so cool about him, anyway.

sure he was “cute” and had a kind personality. sure he was incredibly smart and well spoken. that’s all riki had heard the past week from everyone else gossiping in awe.

he turns up the volume on his phone, scoffing. what are they, his fans?

riki wasn’t sure what to do with the newfound information about your soulmate. he didn’t really want to think about it, his first instinct was to look for you in his next period for some cheering up. but when he walks into the classroom, he doesn’t expect to see aforementioned person talking to you, an animated look on his face.

jungwon gestures grandly, probably telling some super cool story from all his achievements. you seem pretty invested, watching with big eyes and occasionally laughing.

riki feels desperation and anger swirl in the pit of his stomach. even worse, he feels loneliness. something he hasn’t felt for a long time blooms inside—something he hasn’t felt since he met you.

what is he supposed to do now that you’ve found your soulmate? or rather, riki has?

you thought everything was fine. everything seemed fine. after the new guy joined your class, riki acted a little weird the first couple of days but he returned to normal soon after. you figured it was because of his normally shy personality. it took you a (long) while for him to warm up to too, after all.

but what you didn’t expect was for him to almost launch a full on investigation. on the new kid jungwon, strangely enough.

you frown. “he’s nice? why are you asking me this? it’s not like we’re friends or anything.”

sure, jungwon talked to you unexpectedly a couple of times, but he was very popular and did that to many people. it wasn’t like he was targeting you or anything like that. or so that’s what you believed.

but it didn’t stop there. in the few classes you shared with the two boys, whenever jungwon would start up a friendly conversation with you, you could feel riki staring holes into your back. and whenever riki made a dumb joke in the middle of class and you flicked him playfully, you swore you caught jungwon’s eye on more than one occasion.

you brushed it off, but one day it was suddenly no longer a matter of trivial things.

usually it was just you and riki at your lunch table, and it had been that way for a while. your friends opted to stay away from him, and you shrugged it off. it was their loss, not yours.

so when jungwon and his group of popular kids approached you and riki, jungwon taking the seat next to you while riki visibly tensed, you figured something was up. you could hear the onslaught of whispers from surrounding tables.

jungwon, the ideal student, joining you and the weird outcast riki?

from then on, the changes were too drastic to ignore. hanging out with just riki, you knew he was obviously bothered but wouldn’t tell you about it. it was visible that he had a clear disdain for jungwon, but would never verbally express it as much as you tried to get it out of him. it was an unreachable part of him, although you thought you had worked hard to get past that secretive, closed off part of him.

worse was jungwon sitting next to you various times in class and making too much conversation for you to ignore (although you really tried to show you weren’t interested in talking the whole time). all while riki stared forward with an unreadable expression, music practically on full blast.

you didn’t know what was going on, and you didn’t know the situation—how to get a grasp on it. you especially didn’t know the occasional looks the two boys would give each other, and how things would change so soon.

all you knew was that it happened one gloomy day, nearing the end of the school year.

you had just finished an exam in science and went looking for riki to walk home together, as you did every day when school ended. when he wasn’t anywhere to be found, you asked around.

most answers came in the form of shrugs, however a couple of classmates recalled seeing him with another group of kids.

you frowned—what reason would riki have to go off with some other people? perhaps you heard the mention of jungwon’s name but you were too preoccupied with finding riki to really pay attention.

before you could get far, you were welcomed into a strange atmosphere when you reached the courtyard. students whispering and gossiping with a variety of expressions present. your heart began to race as you look around. where is he?

you figure you must’ve missed something as the crowd eventually disperses and you get no answers. perhaps riki had a schedule after school and forgot to tell you?

you could’ve sworn you heard someone say jungwon’s name again, but this time along with riki’s name. you brush it off though as you needed to get home before it started to rain—you could feel it in the air.

so you send riki a quick message before starting on the journey home.

the next morning, you checked your phone to find no response. weird.

either way, you had no time to question it as you were already late to class, so you quickly slip in to the seat next to your classmate. your eyes don’t fail to see riki and jungwon’s empty seats.

you nudge haerin sitting next to you. “do you know where niki is? i haven’t seen him since lunch yesterday and he hasn’t responded to any of my texts.”

her eyes widen as she places a hand on your shoulder.

“y/n….you haven’t heard?”

your eyebrows furrow, “heard what? what’s going on?”

the next thing you remember, is your heart dropping.

“niki’s leaving.”

riki…leaving you?

“what do you mean?”

her eyes soften, and you begin to despise the pity on her face. “he’s leaving the school. no one knows why but-“

you zone out after that.

your best friend transferring schools—moving away for some unexplained reason?

no one at school says anything, and you feel like everyone’s keeping you out of the loop on purpose. you hate the feeling that you’re missing a huge piece of the puzzle.

with no explanation, with no answer from his number (no matter how many times you tried calling), riki disappears in the blink of an eye. it’s as if he never existed in the first place.

rumors follow but you know better than to listen to them. all you found out was apparently something happened that day—you suspect, no you know, between riki and jungwon—and the damned result was riki leaving your school.

he never mentioned anything about moving, as far as you knew. he never acted like anything was wrong either. it had to have been something from that day. or maybe not.

at this point, you didn’t know what to believe. you had just lost your closest friend, your study-slash-lunch-slash-everything buddy, and your number one support.

and somehow everything was supposed to go back to normal. everyone continues on normally, including jungwon.

everyone except you.

he’s gone and he left you alone.

as if you ever hoped to see him again.

iii. welcome to the world.

you exhale, smoothing out your wrinkled outfit for the tenth time. you chide yourself internally, why were you so nervous?

it was just an internship. your first day, too. only recently did you graduate high school yourself.

it was just the first day of your newly acquired internship and yet you were nervous for it at a new company in a new city. it was your choice to relocate to a new area for new beginnings and new memories.

to be quite frank, you had no clue what you were doing. why did you even decide to focus on photography? you most definitely didn’t have much experience, only starting the hobby when you graduated high school. maybe you wanted a chance to take your mind off life and see things in a new light. a second chance.

maybe photos didn’t make you feel as alone.

shivering, you shake your head to clear free of thoughts. time to get this over with. the oh so dreaded first day.

before leaving, you don’t forget to leave some food for the stray cat outside your place. you then get up with a satisfied grunt and make your way to the bus stop.

however, your new boss was kind and understanding of your nervousness. you visited the company a couple times before, but never enough to get familiar with the layout and other photographers due to obtaining the internship so suddenly. you didn’t expect to get it either, not as a young, inexperienced student almost fresh out of college. either luck was on your side or your talent seemed to shine through.

it was strange to be in such a different environment than from what you grew up in. supportive, encouraging people all highly invested and passionate in their jobs.

you set up everything in your assigned desk and wait for further instruction.

your boss had showed you around and gotten you used to the daily activities of those working at a photography company, making your transition much smoother.

the whole experience was a little too easy, making you feel so much lighter. you could feel it. things were good- perhaps too good to be true.

“isn’t the first day always the best?” mr. lee, your boss, speaks up.

you quickly nod. “so far, it’s been really good. i was just wondering what my job was actually going to be for the next few months.”

he claps his hands together, almost startling you.

“of course—i like your attentiveness! you’ll be working under one of our best, accompanying him on his work and assisting with whatever he needs to get a feel for what we do here. we can meet him now if you’d like?” his question causes you to pause.

“of course.” you wonder who this ‘he’ was, apparently being one of the best.

a sudden wave of nervousness hits you. all the doubts and fears start to rise, so you swallow and try your best to suppress it.

why did you have such a bad feeling?

as your boss leads you down the offices and desks, you nod enthusiastically and laugh at his remarks as you make your way to the stairway. you go up, about to reach the top step when you spot someone coming down, their faculty name tag flashing in the light. you just barely steal a glimpse of the name, of the face of the person moving.

it’s foreign yet familiar at the same time.

you pause. his face…

you doubt you heard mr lee’s sudden hearty welcome to said person, turning to introduce you with a bright smile. a smile that doesn’t know anything.

“ha, what a coincidence. this is miss y/l/n! you still haven’t met one of our most talented photographers, have you?”

that’s when it hits you.

you feel like everything’s occurring in slow motion, mr. lee’s lips moving slowly, the person’s unreadable expression morphing as you both come to a realization.

“this is our very own best nishimura. nishimura riki.”

your heart drops. no.

it’s not. it can’t be.

why does it feel like the world just crashed down around you? why is it suddenly so hard to breathe? your eyes can’t leave those familiar ones, the same ones that have haunted you ever since that day.

those eyes that fill with recognition at the sight of you, you’re sure of it.

and then, everything is set into motion once more. you blink quickly, several times, exhaling as you try to readjust.

“nice to meet you,” you quickly bow while avoiding his gaze. this actually can’t be.

“you’ll be working with him for the-“

you mutter some lame excuse of needing to go to the restroom before dashing up the rest of the stairs to the nearest safe room, ignoring your boss’s surprised voice.

once you find the restroom, you find the sink and turn on the water. you scrub and scrub your hands before staring at yourself in the mirror.

not after all this time-

not after he left you, he can’t just suddenly appear again. did you just imagine him?

you still can’t believe it, almost refuse to believe it. nishimura riki, after 10 or so years, appears in the flesh right before you. you had long given up on trying to find him. and here he is, working at the same place as you.

he exists, perfectly alive and well without you.

it was just too much. riki was all grown up. he really looked the same, just much, much taller and more grown up in his professional attire. you weren’t used to it. or the fact that, he came back.

unless he never really left.

all those years in middle school and high school you tried to forget come rushing back. the rumors that followed your footsteps, the questions never answered. all those years of pain and loneliness, and confusion-

staying up so many nights pondering what you did that made him run away, leave you when he promised he would be there. after all that time wondering and wondering why and how and what you did. and what could’ve been done.

maybe you were being dramatic but it doesn’t change the fact that he left without a word, and with no contact for you to keep in touch. no attempt at all.

you were so hurt, so closed off now. you convinced yourself that you never cared to see his face again, but what were you supposed to do when riki shows up again, unannounced in front of you like nothing ever happened?

was there even anything left between you two?

you decided early on that your best course of action was to pretend that you never knew him. riki was a complete stranger, and it wasn’t truly a lie. it had been so long since you last saw him.

but you know that won’t work forever. especially not when he was the one you were working under.

you didn’t know what to call him, how to call him. mr. nishimura sounded way too formal especially considering your history, and riki was obviously off limits.

the next day, you stand in front of his desk with your hands clasped together in front of you like a scolded child in front of the principal. you couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes.

“so…uh, i guess you’ll be working with me for the next couple of months?”

you barely nod, shifting in your position uncomfortably. instead, your eyes fall on the pictures scattered around the walls in riki’s office.

“i’ve never had an intern before, so-“

you interrupt him impatiently while still avoiding eye contact.

“just tell me what you need me to do, mr. nishimura.”

you could visibly see the both of you cringe at that.

“-please.” you add pitifully as an afterthought.

noticing your coldness, riki must have enough common sense to give you some papers to file and chart.

what a wonderful first day.

you would describe your present relationship with riki as a very formal (and strained) senior-junior one. besides your daily task of avoiding your own mentor as much as possible, you rather enjoyed the work. so far, getting to learn the true process behind taking photos was something you never experienced.

and seeing riki in his element, with his raw talent and skill was another thing in itself. it was a lot to process, seeing an entirely different, mature riki.

you were a little too sad that you missed his growing up.

in the break room one morning, you sip peacefully on your freshly made coffee. it was a nice day, at least you believed so until you heard the door open, signaling the entrance of another person.

you’re about to greet them politely until you realize who exactly it was. you swallow a little too harshly, tensing as the person approached you.

“if you’ll excuse me,” you mutter while slipping past him. riki stands there, unmoving as he watches your figure leave.

it had been like that since the first day when he was reintroduced to you. dry to no responses, indifferent gaze, not a single glimpse into you. into the you that he knew, or once knew.

it was like he was the one talking to a built up wall, unable to do any damage. it’s almost funny how it’s like your positions from back then were switched.

he figured your cold and unapproachable demeanor was only to him—understandably. there was a lot you must’ve been feeling, as well as he. it was a long journey with a lot of baggage riki was still carrying.

still, he sees you with some of the other interns, smiling and laughing as you once did with him. as he stares at you from afar (hopefully not in a stalkerish way), riki realizes that you still have the same laugh, same smile, same attentive expression when someone calls your name.

and yet, you’re so different. you’re so far away from him.

as time goes on, you realize you can’t act like a little kid for the rest of your life. well, for the rest of the time you had this internship (and currently you didn’t have any plans to resign, especially since you literally just started).

during the lunch break, you don’t expect the seat next to you to be taken. you stiffen once you realize who it is—his presence was so familiar that you didn’t even have to take a glance to see who it was.

you start to rise from your seat, but a hand clasps gently around your arm. you freeze.

“y/n,” he starts quietly. you shiver at the sound of his voice, recognizable yet unrecognizable at the same time. you feel like you can’t breathe.

“please. not now.”

with that, you stalk away, meanwhile your eyes fly across the room to ensure no one saw your interaction.

how much longer could you keep doing this?

the more you see him, the more you can’t ignore the fact that you really, really did miss him. it’s like nothing changed—except for his appearance—and you couldn’t suppress the amount of relief you had at the realization that riki was still riki, after all.

he was still the same boy you shared earbuds with back then, at least in your eyes.

you want to know how he’s been. what he’s done, how he came back, how he became the person he is today.

on the other hand, riki realizes the complete transformation you’ve undergone.

the first conversation he had with you after oh so many years, you merely handed him his coffee with a short nod. his attempt to bring up the weather, school, anything just to talk to you again, obviously fell short.

riki’s strategy? give you your space and time. of course he respected that, and maybe you noticed because it seemed to weaken the intimidating barrier from before.

after that, you acknowledged him, greeted him (albeit shortly) every morning—riki even noticed you watching him edit some photos although you thought he couldn’t see you.

while you would never admit it, riki looked pretty cool teaching you his tips and tricks. you didn’t realize how much his job suited him and how lucky his company was to have acquired such a talented, soulful person as a photographer.

you can tell, riki wants to get talk to you so badly, but in fear of getting hurt again, you push him away. it’s hard, when all you can do is expect him to vanish without another trace again.

as you finish touchups on the last photo, you sigh and rub your eyes. things were different now. no point in wondering what could have been.

you walk out into the hallway, wishing to get some coffee to power through those last edits. but you soon stop in your tracks.

“y-y/n.”

your eyes lower to the floor, acknowledging him with a nod. “hey.”

“are you going to the break room?”

you nod again.

“then…” he hits you with those hopeful eyes and you curse internally. “can i come with?”

a surprisingly comfortable silence fills the air, along with the soothing smell of coffee.

riki comments on your more compliant and meek nature—it’s certainly supposed to be a joke but you take it the wrong way.

you frown. “i’ve changed, riki.”

he falters. maybe he’s done too much, too soon.

“i’ve grown up. just like you have. we both have, so maybe you should accept me now like i have to you.”

you turn to leave but he grabs your wrist.

“please. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it like that. i know i’m in no position to say this, but i thought we were doing okay. i really want to be friends with you again—truly.”

you sigh audibly. there really was no value in being awkward with him for your time here. at least if you tried to maintain an amicable relationship, you wouldn’t have to make up dumb excuses every time you saw him. and if you got closer again, perhaps you could figure out after all this time why he left.

even more importantly, why he came back.

“could we please start over?” his voice is the softest you’ve ever heard it (and much deeper than you were used to).

you wait two, three seconds before turning around,

and sticking your hand out.

“nice to meet you,” you introduce yourself. you watch the smile start to grow on his face.

“i’m nishimura riki, and it’s very nice to meet you too.”

riki sighs, clicking the red x button in the corner. he finished his last portfolio with you as his assistant. it was only a matter of hours, or minutes, before he was assigned his next project. he turns off the light and closes the door behind his office, only to be greeted by your figure.

an eyebrow of his raises. “were you waiting for me?”

you scoff, casually kicking the ground with your shoe while looking off into the distance. “no.”

“well, i was,” you glance at him abruptly in surprise, “let’s go.”

“huh?”

he shrugs, “we finished and everyone else is gone.”

you didn’t expect riki to be so… enthusiastic about it. it as in hanging out together, as friends again.

maybe, you always knew in the end you had to give in. there was no way you could keep up this act against riki. it had always been like that.

if anyone saw you two out now they would probably assume you were two college kids on a date.

wait- date?

“-y/n?”

you glance up, startled. “yeah?”

riki frowns, sipping his boba. “are you okay? you seemed distracted. what were you thinking about?”

you shake your head with a sheepish laugh, “nothing. sorry.”

you wondered how you got to this point.

meeting riki outside of work and hoping you don’t run into any of your co-workers. honestly, it was fun to have a friend to talk with—it was fun to have riki next to you again.

your teenage self would have been dumbfounded.

while you had this time with him, you could finally ask some things you were curious about.

“riki,” you start off and he tries his best to keep calm. it was the first time you had called him by his first name in years. he missed it dearly.

“how did you get into photography?”

he knows what you meant to ask. how did you get here?

he falls back into his chair, staring up at the ceiling. you know just know riki too well, simply waiting patiently for him to take his time.

“i don’t know, to be honest. i always felt different from everyone else.” he pauses and looks at you, “you knew that the best.”

“i wanted to study people more. so i started taking pictures of others. now i just specialize in photographing more important people, like models and idols. i still don’t know how i got here though. that’s the truth.”

“you’re really good,” you say lamely. “you’re very talented and i’m jealous, to be frank.”

you see his ears turn red as he coughs shyly.

“thank you. i guess it’s what i’m best at.”

that wasn’t the exact answer you were expecting, but you took it. soon, you promised yourself, you would uncover the truth.

iv. cupid’s attack.

you like to think that you and riki get into a good groove at work.

you can’t help but burst out laughing, and riki almost stops in his tracks.

he realizes that sweet and soulful sound was just as he last remembered it. it almost makes him shiver. yes, not everything changed about you.

he knows. it can’t last forever—this push and pull relationship. plus, your budding relationship has to result in an explanation. you deserve it at the very least.

as much as riki wanted to keep it hidden, secrets can’t always stay secrets forever. he can’t protect you from everything in this world, his selfish wants can’t always be kept.

as the two of you joke around, various other workers stare at you in envy. somehow, you got to work with the mysterious yet talented riki. the one who got hired out of the blue and somehow rose to the top. no one could deny his skill.

his intimidating and mysterious aura haunted the office for some time. that is, until you came. the way he treated you was shocking to say the least. it seemed like you two were in your own world. there was definitely something, and everyone could see that.

“sorry to interrupt,” another intern speaks up shyly, but the boss wanted me to tell you guys that the party starts at 8.”

“party?” you turn to riki with a perplexed expression.

“ah, i forgot to mention. we have an office dinner party to celebrate the new interns and their hard work.” riki nudges you with a glint as your eyes widen.

“that includes you.”

you weren’t the partying type—if that wasn’t obvious enough. especially not one out of the blue, one not meant for you.

you shift uncomfortably at the large dinner table. riki ended up sitting next to you somehow. you like to think he did it on purpose, knowing you weren’t the type to enjoy socializing in large groups (and neither was he). but little did you know, he came for you.

only you.

everyone was urging you guys to drink, as it was custom to do so at office parties. but you had a limit, so when you get up to leave, making some lame excuse about having more work to finish up at home, riki immediately gets up as well. all eyes fall on you two, and you awkwardly take your leave with a tipsy riki in tow.

“yeah, it’s definitely time to get you home.”

with a rather embarrassing grunt and help from fellow co-workers, you manage to get a grip around riki’s shoulders.

once you make it out of the restaurant however, you realize that you indeed have no clue where riki lives.

“riki,” you start off cautiously, “what’s your address?”

“there!” he points sluggishly toward a nearby barbecue place. you huff.

“seriously, riki. i need to get you home. you’re way too drunk to-“

“let’s go there,” he slurs. “i’m hungry.”

as much as you stand your ground, his incessant begging eventually gets to your head and you cave.

“fine. i’ll just order you some side dishes. then we’re actually going home.”

you can only blink at the amount of dishes on the table that riki ate alone (and the amount that was going to be charged to your card).

“riki… i think that’s enough.” you softly place a hand on his still holding the chopsticks. you mutter something along the lines of, i didn’t know you ate this much this late at night…

somehow, he manages to hear you. he sounds more sober and looks more sober as well, to your relief. “yeah, well, how do you think i got this tall?”

it’s true, you were quite shocked at how tall he got. for a second, you simply stare at him while lost in your thoughts. perhaps it was the alcohol still running in your system.

he raises an eyebrow, “what’s so interesting about me suddenly?”

you clear your throat, felling your face turn hot. “nothing.”

suddenly, it feels as if the mood has changed again. you know this is your chance, and you can’t miss it. not ever again.

“don’t you need to go home soon? would, would anyone be waiting?”

riki lets out a short laugh.

“as if. i’ve been living alone ever since i came back.”

ever since he came back.

you look down at your hands.

“why did you come back?” you whisper. and yet, he hears it again.

as he’s about to respond, you glance at him with a conflicted look. “why did you leave?”

riki inhales, placing his chopsticks on the table neatly. “i’m just… so sorry y/n, for leaving you-“

“then tell me. that’s the least you can do.”

you hate how your voice quivers at the end.

“i… it’s all my fault. i lost control. i got into a fight with yang jungwon.”

you try your best to keep the surprise off your face and let him continue.

“and with my reputation at the school, my parents and the principal came to the conclusion that it was best for me to leave.”

“i didn’t know that it meant going overseas,” he quickly adds, “but i had no choice as a teenager. i could only listen to my parents and when i got the chance, i came back as soon as i could.”

you almost forgot about his so called ability. but it didn’t even matter at this point. you had countless questions, but it seemed like riki was still holding back. there was something he didn’t want to tell you, something he didn’t want you to know.

you were somewhat satisfied with his answers, but something was still bothering you.

you can feel his eyes on you, waiting for some sort of response.

“i see… but why didn’t you come find me?” you voice cracks. “why didn’t you make any effort at all to see me again? because so far, it seems like you were pretty okay with me not knowing that you still existed.”

what you really meant to say was,

you seemed perfectly fine without me. you seemed perfectly fine while i was still hurting after all this time.

“even more,” you continue on, “after you came back all this time.”

riki shakes his head, “i was looking for you.”

you falter at that.

“i always was, even in another country far away. i had to get a new phone and lost your number and all contact. but when i was finally able to come back to our hometown, you were gone. i was able to get a job at our current company due to my parents connections, and i was going to use that money to pay for travel expenses. just to find you.”

“i swear y/n,” and you almost tear up at the sincerity in his eyes, “i would never abandon you.”

“just like i promised all those years ago.”

his voice grows soft, “i always wondered what happened after i left. what you were up to. i imagined you being super successful while doing something you love.”

you laugh in order to lighten up the heavy mood, “as you can see now, that’s certainly not the case. i actually have no clue what i’m doing with my life.”

“you’re- you’re not with anyone or anything?”

you shoot him a baffled look, “what in the world? i can’t even take care of myself, let alone another person.”

you’re so shocked at the question that you miss riki’s subtle sigh of relief. you hadn’t gotten with jungwon— at least not yet, he thinks.

“then, what was high school like? you know, without me?”

you shake your head, not willing to think about those times.

“lonely, obviously, without you,” you grumble.

you had some friends still, but they weren’t riki. they never would be and could never replace him.

you decide to not mention jungwon and the short period of time after riki’s leaving in which he tried to hang out with you. most definitely not after learning what riki told you.

it was weird even to you, how such a popular guy like yang jungwon wanted to hang out with you for some time. but he soon gave up, whether it was because of all the other students noticing and gossiping or because of your moody brooding over the loss of riki.

“that’s all?”

you nod shortly. “i graduated, became interested in photography, and applied for this internship. end of story.”

you shake your head, “i just don’t know how we both got here at the same company, at the same time. man, i was even chosen to work for you of all people.”

riki’s smile grows–

“it’s like it was fate,” you murmur absentmindedly.

–and it immediately drops at that.

“can you still see people’s red strings?” of course, you had to bring that topic up at this time.

“yeah. but i’m done with all that soulmate connection strings and stuff. i just ignore it now.”

you obviously see his change in demeanor at the topic.

“that’s good. it obviously doesn’t affect your photography. i didn’t know how talented you were.”

although so many people had told him that before, it was different hearing it from you. he blames his face flushing on the alcohol, not your compliment.

“t-thanks. you are too. i can see your potential.”

you cock your head, “really? aren’t you just saying that because i’m working with you?”

he shakes his head vehemently.

“of course not. i think you’re one of the most special people in the world. you would be good at anything you want to do, because that’s just you y/n.”

you cough at the sudden change in the air. you don’t think you can handle his endless complimenting.

“thank you riki, really. but are you done eating? i think we should head out.”

you leave with not just your stomachs fuller, but your mind and heart as well.

other nights were spent staying up at the office, finishing edits and cuts. those were the best nights though, in your opinion.

you got the best advice and the best late night talks with riki—he really felt like a leader now. it made you realize how grown up he became.

“i still have the bracelet you gave me. i keep it on my desk just so i don’t lose it.”

your mouth drops open, “ no way? the one i gave you in middle school?” he nods and you internally shudder while thinking about what happened to yours.

“i hate to break it to you, riki, but i actually lost mine..”

–which translated to i threw mine away out of anger and sadness. but you figured you could keep that a secret for the time being.

“it’s fine. i’ll just get us new matching ones.” riki swears he never will forget the satisfied smile on your face, eyes twinkling and nose scrunching.

that was it. riki really tried.

he tried his best, but he can’t help falling in love with you.

he can’t even tell if you like him back or if you’re just being kind, because you are originally just a kind and beautiful soul.

he likes you too much it hurts, but he can’t be hurt again. he doesn’t want to be.

he doesn’t want to tell you about all the secret pictures he would snap of you instead of the actual model that he was working with. the amount of time and effort put into his hidden collection of you. it was one of his works that he was the most proudest of. one that he would cherish forever.

he didn’t even know when he realized it— that riki loved you. perhaps it was the countless hours spent up at night thinking about you, all alone.

but loving you came easily and naturally. red string or not, niki would love you endlessly no matter what. and whatever happened in the end, he would only want happiness for you.

occasionally he would wonder why he had to go through all that testing when he was young, why he had to go thought that entire, torturous and isolating experience.

but then he thinks about you and how without being stuck in the lab for however many years, he would have never met you in the conditions that you met in. you would have never gotten the chance to save him from those bullies if he had gone to school at a normal age and been like all the other kids.

everything that happened to riki, it was to bring him to you. for some reason, he’s sure of it.

even with all that—the feelings and acceptance and denial— riki tries his best to suppress his feelings and just enjoy being with you again. just to make up for lost time, he reasons.

he knew you two weren’t soulmates, he saw it once more the supposedly fated day he met you again for the second time.

still, he doesn’t think he could be with anyone else but you. riki knows in his heart you’re the only one for him. he stares at his own red string leading off into the unknown distance. even if the universe said otherwise.

even if the universe said otherwise, he didn’t want to lose you again.

the vip landyards you got for entering the venue backstage weren’t vip after all.

one good thing about riki’s job was the free access to public events, obviously to capture the best photos. but on this occasion, you two were denied access for no particular reason.

no matter how much riki demanded, the even taller and intimidating body guards wouldn’t budge.

“it’s fine,” you place a hand on riki’s shoulder to calm him. “we can just go through the front. i bet someone will be willing to listen to us there.”

you know riki wants to argue more but you give him a look and he concedes.

the crowd was wilder than you thought though. mainly due to it being some group called oncolon or whatever performing. navigating through the huge crowd, riki suddenly takes your hand tightly.

you almost trip over some person’s foot, glancing at him with wide eyes and a slight blush. he doesn’t say a single word.

you’re sure you’ve gotten knocked and pushed several times in the wild crowd. you try your best to keep up, but at some point, too many bodies separate you and riki.

a rather hard shove causes you to lose your balance, falling onto the ground (with a painful jolt up your butt).

all you can hear is the booming music for a moment and the flashing lights, until a hand suddenly reaches through. you almost don’t notice it at first until you hear your name being called.

suddenly you’re being pulled up forward, into sturdy arms.��

“are you okay? sorry i lost you-“

when you see that it’s riki, dark orbs filled with concerned as he speaks, you nod dumbly while zoning the rest of his words out.

you couldn’t really concentrate, not when you were trying to process the fluttering of your heart and his body oh so close to yours.

but oh no, it doesn’t stop there.

it was rather sudden—you called riki over to your desk to ask for his opinion some time later.

“should i lower the exposure more? i know you were going for a darker look since it fits the concept-?”

what you don’t expect is him to lean a little too close to comfort over you and your desk to reach the computer. even more, you don’t expect his hand to cover yours over the mouse as he clicks a few things.

all you do is hold your breath but you can still smell him faintly, a comforting and familiar scent. your eyes almost flutter shut.

suppressed feelings are coming back. coming back to haunt you for good.

it does indeed feel a little too good to be true. you feel so giddy around riki, like a high schooler experiencing their first love. but you never got to.

it felt like you were getting to reexperience your teenage years properly with riki—how it should’ve gone. but it’s a little different. it feels a little too different. you want to blame it on the fact that you guys are older and you overthink things, but the feelings and emotions inside you say otherwise.

v. the thin line between love and hate.

you startle at the sudden coffee placed in front of you, by a bashful riki.

“hm? what’s this for?”

he scratches the back of his head, “you’ve been working so hard lately, too much for an intern. i don’t want to be known as the guy who overworks the newbies.”

the warming of your heart falls flat.

“ha ha ha,” you laugh dryly. “thank you though.”

before he leaves you to continue your work, he adds, “don’t forget to eat too. i brought some lunch for you in the fridge.”

you don’t fight off the dumb smile on your face when you open the community fridge to see a packaged lunch with a sticky note on top reading,

y/n’s only!! no touching!! (please and thank you)

in someone’s very familiar handwriting that hadn’t changed at all since middle school.

still, you don’t know how you haven’t gotten fired yet. you tried your best to maintain a professional relationship at work, yet the amount of jokes and ridiculous faces riki made was going to be the death of you.

he manages to get a choked sound out of you as you put your head down in an attempt to hold back your laughter. he only looks on proudly when you try your best to chide him.

“focus, riki!”

“how can i focus when his feet smell from across the roo-“

you place a finger over his soft lips, eyes raising from them to his innocent (yet deadly) looking gaze.

“stop disturbing the others!” you scold.

“i think you should tell his feet that.”

you stare at each other blankly for a second or two, your eyes flicking to the man’s shoes across the room, before you both can’t help but bursting into a silent fit of laughter.

meanwhile everyone else looks on, confused but starting to get used to the two of you at this point.

as riki admires your face full of glee, he thinks there couldn’t have been anything better.

maybe he should’ve known the universe wouldn’t let him off that easy.

you’re on the way home from work when you receive a message from riki. he asks for you to stop by the store to grab him ice cream, and you roll your eyes.

you already knew what that meant. anime night at riki’s place although his deadline was the next day.

when he sends the begging emojis, you sigh and change routes to the nearest mart. you couldn’t resist him, even if you wanted to.

you’re browsing the aisles, adding more and more snacks that you really didn’t need but you knew would make riki (and by default—you) happy.

as you reach for the bungeobbang snack, you don’t notice the hand that grabs it at the same time. a shock courses through you for a split second, and you pull your hand back.

“sorry…”

you glance at the figure. and you cock your head.

a distinct pair of eyes blink back at you.

wait a second…

“no way. yang jungwon?”

his mouth drops open. “y/n? it’s been years!”

you nod, almost laughing at the complete turn of events. “i can’t believe it either. what are you doing here?”

it turns out jungwon was in town for work, as per a client's request. he had also grown up a lot and changed much more than you expected.

he was still the same, handsome and charming jungwon. but he had definitely matured and you found yourself enjoying the catching-up talk with him. to the point where you lost track of time.

only was it until you see riki’s name light up your phone do you remember. you scramble to get your things (and probably melted ice cream).

“sorry jungwon, i have to get going.”

he gets up to help you gather your things. you can’t help but notice the warmth of his hand lingering on yours when he passes you the last grocery bag.

“it was really nice to see you again. do you maybe want to keep in touch?”

you only nod at his hopeful eyes. “of course! we can exchange numbers and meet up again while you’re still here.”

feeling strangely light on your way to riki’s place, the guilt hits you when you are greeted by riki’s worried face.

“what took so long?”

you think about jungwon and cringe internally. you don’t think you have the heart to tell riki. not today.

-Is what you keep telling yourself. days, and days after that first encounter. you just don’t know how to bring it up to riki, or when. after everything that happened,

you don’t think you can’t risk it. not when you just got your riki back.

you’re surprised at how often jungwon texts you. maybe he was still the same jungwon after all, still wanting to hang out with you all the time like back in the old days.

but this time, you had no reason to object. again, guilt washes over you as you respond to his text before looking over at a focused riki.

just once wouldn’t hurt, you manage to convince yourself.

it’s not like riki would care that much anyways. the past was the past and things were different now. why would he care if you hung out with another guy?

it’s not like he liked you… right?

you repeat that to yourself everyday. everyday that riki greets you with that adoring face of his. everyday that he teases you, makes you laugh, and helps you through all the hard times.

even the day that you thought he was going to kiss you. when he reached over you to grab the remote, but he didn’t go back to his spot. he stayed hovering over you, faces inches apart.

and he stared at you, into you, with those eyes that he always looked at you with.

yet riki didn’t do anything. he didn’t make a single move, so that means it should be fine if you met jungwon just this once?

even so, you get off work early, rushing to get home and prepare. you brush off riki’s reminder of him stopping by your house later to return your jacket he borrowed. how it fit him, you still don’t know.

even more you don’t know is why you feel pressured to dress up nice and prepare, just to see jungwon. it was just a simple catch up with him. it wasn’t like you were going to keep seeing him after that. it wasn’t a date of any sort…

jungwon pulls out the chair and you awkwardly sit down and thank him.

ok so maybe you should have dated in high school, just so you wouldn’t have been so clueless now.

it wasn’t a date. you know it wasn’t. and you keep repeating it to yourself.

maybe jungwon notices your stiffness, because he compliments your outfit.

“you look really nice.”

“thanks,” you smile, “so do you.”

“i didn’t know what places were good in this area, but i liked this cafe so i thought it would be a good place for us to talk!”

you’ve always admired jungwon’s thoughtfulness. or rather, been jealous. there was only one other person who could compete with him on that: nishimura riki.

again, time passes you as you spend the night with him. it’s quite dark out when you realize you should get going.

jungwon being ever the gentleman offers to walk you home. he also lends you his jacket, which you have no choice but to accept both his offers. it would end on an awkward note if you rejected him—which you didn’t want—so you decide to bear with it just this once.

jungwon was simply a cool and fun person to hang out with anyway, so you had no complaints. you trusted him naturally.

it was all fine until you reached the outside of your apartment.

you certainly weren’t expecting to see riki waiting outside your door, looking visibly and obviously upset. your feet come to a halt.

you completely forgot.

jungwon grabs your arm suddenly. “is that niki?”

you see the expression on riki’s face visibly change, and you rush to explain yourself.

“riki, please let me-“

ignoring jungwon, the coldness emanating from riki physically makes you shiver.

“we need to talk.”

you bite your lip.

“jungwon, i… think you should go.”

he complies when you ask once more, but not without a concerned request to contact him later.

even with jungwon gone, riki still looks like he’s about to get attacked, threatened and rigid.

you call out his name quietly, “can we at least go inside first?”

you reach for his hand but he pulls away before heading in. fair, you think.

“-i’m sorry i didn’t tell you earlier, but it was a sudden decision.”

“i still don’t get why you didn’t tell me,” he snaps.

you don’t like the way this is heading. and you both know where it was going to go. “it was just one small hangout, we were only catching up,” you frown.

“but you know how i feel about him! you should have told me-“

you feel your anger rise as well as you get to your feet.

“do i have an obligation to tell you? why is a fight that happened over ten years ago still such a big deal? what’s your issue with jungwon?”

you cross your arms, facing an agitated riki.

“nevermind that. why can’t you just tell me what happened back then?!”

the silence, accompanied by the sound of your mixed heavy breaths, leave you weary. you pinch the space between your eyebrows.

“riki-“ you reach out for him but he pulls away. he’s doing it once again.

it hurts more than you thought. “fine. if you’re not going to say anything, then i think you should just leave.”

and you don’t object when he listens to your suggestion, without a second glance back.

it felt like deja vu, seeing him leave just as he did before.

it’s been days since you last talked to riki, let alone spared a glance in his direction. work was awkward enough, just like it had been the first week you came.

how could your relationship turn back to strangers so suddenly? did riki not care?

if anything, he cared too much—but you would have never known.

it’s hard to work next to him, be near him without the unspoken feelings rising up. a hand brushing his when he passed you papers almost felt like it was burning you. riki noticed how you would flinch away, every time.

it didn’t matter. your internship was coming to an end, and you were already preparing yourself to leave.

maybe this was just a sign from the universe telling you that you and riki were meant to be apart. that you weren’t meant to be together after all.

you loved the area, company, office environment and just about everything else. it should’ve been perfect.

but you don’t know if you can stand working here, staying here and living here,

knowing that riki is right around the corner, carrying your heart without a second thought.

the power that he holds, the fact that he’s able to break your heart in the matter of seconds or make you smile like the happiest person in the world, it’s just too scary for you to handle.

you’re already planning to head back home and stay with your parents for a little until you get things figured out again.

you still had tickets to a small festival at the nearby plaza that you planned to go with riki, but that certainly wasn’t happening anymore.

you didn’t want the second ticket to go to waste, so in your lostness and desperation (and several rejections by coworkers), you asked jungwon. you were leaving soon and didn’t know when the next time you would see him was.

you greet him with a halfhearted smile, and he gestures for you guys to get closer to the stage to get a better view. but there’s a big crowd, and you stumble over an arm or leg or something.

for some reason, you expect him to be there and help you up. like someone else did in a strangely familiar situation.

but there’s no one. nothing except the crowd of bodies that’s starting to get a little too overwhelming.

for the first time, you wish to the universe for one thing. you wish you had riki again, with you by your side.

it’s then you realize you’ve been thinking about him the whole time. he who’s been the one always to pick you back up. he was always there for you.

you know, you need to do something before you leave. you can’t handle leaving things like this.

you plan to, however, the next day is the last day of your internship and some of the kind workers surprised the interns with a small going away party. it’s bittersweet, especially when everyone assumes you’re getting hired for an official position due to your exceptional work, and another person.

you were grateful for everyone who planned and showed up. but there was one person who didn’t that you kept looking for. everyone knows who, but no one knows why.

at the end of the day, you make your way back to riki’s office in order to pack up your stuff.

you take one last glance around the room and all of its memories. leaving this place felt like leaving riki behind as well.

you were grateful that you got the chance to see him once more. you were beginning to accept that this was the end.

putting all your stuff in boxes, you frown while wondering where your compartment desk key was. maybe riki mistakenly took yours instead of his?

you open various drawers, rummaging around. but when you get to the bottommost drawer, your heart stops.

it’s only a plain cream folder, but what’s written on it takes your breath away.

just your name.

photos and photos of you, beautifully crafted and arranged together. it’s riki’s work, you know that for sure. memories spanning your entire internship—from the first day to the last time you talked to him.

you don’t know when and how he took these photos. or when tears fell down your cheeks.

you hastily rub the wetness away, sniffling as you close the folder and continue your search. now wasn’t the time to get sentimental.

it would be alright, because you planned on finding riki the next day before you left. it was too late today, and you needed to finish packing. you just wanted one last chance to say everything you wanted to before going.

you have to because you feel it deep within, tugging at your heartstrings.

it’s about 1am when you finish packing. you don’t even want to think about the time you need to get up, nor the fact that you still had to find a way to see riki.

you zip up the last luggage when the doorbell rings. who in the world would be at your door this late? you consider grabbing some sort of weapon, but decide against it for the time being.

you nervously peek through the peephole, before throwing the door open.

“r-riki?”

you’re more shocked that he was crying than him even showing up at your place.

riki almost lunges forward, trapping you in his arms. he hiccups and you feel a pang in your chest.

“y/n- please- just please, will you forgive me?”

“what?” you breathe out. you couldn’t even process the situation.

“please. never leave me.”

“what? why would i ever?” you comfortingly bring a hand to rub his back. it takes a little bit to soothe him, and he speaks again when you feel his erratic breathing has calmed and his body relaxes.

“i’m so scared to lose you again,” he whispers shakily. you soften, pulling back to see his red eyes and nose.

“riki, please tell me what’s going on.” he knows immediately what you mean.

you reach up to wipe the corners of his eyes and the side of his face gently. he closes his eyes at the feeling, to go back into time.

honestly, he remembers that day as if it was just yesterday. it was a day that haunted him up until now.

riki always knew then. maybe you weren’t aware but he definitely was.

yang jungwon liked you. it was obvious.

riki could see it—physically too. that cursed red string mocked him everyday he saw you two in class.

riki knew jungwon could feel it too. you were too close to riki and everyone knew that. jungwon knew, and he didn’t care.

it was raining, as riki recalled many times over and over again. he was alone while waiting for you to finish class. riki was alone until jungwon and his group of friends approached him.

jungwon knew about his power. he said his father worked for the government, worked with riki. riki suddenly thought of one of the head scientists and his eyes, strikingly similar to jungwon’s.

so that was his father, he remembers thinking.

riki never liked him.

regardless, jungwon asked if riki could see your string. just like the others. riki chooses not to answer as always, but jungwon naturally got on his nerves.

riki remembers the exact words.

“if you two aren’t dating, does that mean you aren’t soulmates? you would’ve asked y/n out already if you were, am i right?”

at that, riki’s blood began to boil. but he couldn’t do anything. mainly because jungwon was right. and it infuriated riki.

jungwon laughed. “then… i can ask y/n out? since you guys aren’t soulmates?”

riki doesn’t remember the next part. maybe he blacked out or chose to erase it from his memory. but apparently, he punched jungwon. he snapped for the first time.

riki opens his eyes again slowly, seeing your heartfelt gaze on him and him only.

he almost doesn’t recognize his own voice when he speaks. it sounded too quiet. too defeated. like he was already accepting his loss.

”you’re jungwon’s soulmate. not mine.”

he glances down at your pinky. it had been a while since he saw your red string, let alone anyone else’s.

“no matter how much i wished your red string was connected to mine, it wasn’t.”

at some point, riki assumed his string had no other person it was attached to, because he had never met anyone who made him feel like how you did. no one else made him as happy, as sad, or as loved as you did.

riki knew if he had a soulmate, it would have been you and only you.

“i-i was upset when you saw jungwon again that you would fall in love with him. and leave me.”

it was a lot to process. you know and he knows. it wasn’t what you were expecting, but you were fine with that.

when you call out his name, your hands reach to the sides of his face to guide them to look at you. you take a deep breath.

“i’ve always loved you.”

and exhale.

“jungwon was never on my mind, only you’ve been. even after all this time-”

abruptly, riki reached forward to kiss you harshly and you instantly reciprocate it. your hands tighten around his neck while his come to wrap around your waist, naturally.

you just can’t seem to let each other go.

you ask jungwon to meet up with one last time before he leaves, at the same cafe he suggested last time.

you comment on the nice weather and he agrees. you fiddle with your fingers.

“this is a bit random, but do you believe in soulmates?”

jungwon looks confused but he says, “yeah. from what i’ve heard, i think so?”

your eyes narrow. “even if two people are soulmates, do you think they can love different people?”

“y/n, where is this-“

“answer the question and i’ll explain. i promise.”

he scratches his head, “i… i suppose so?”

“and if two people aren’t soulmates, do you think that they can love each other?” you continue.

“sure. but i don’t get why you’re asking-“

ignoring him, you nod thoughtfully. “okay.”

he opens his mouth to respond, but you hold up a hand.

“i just wanted to say it was nice seeing you again.”

he looks a bit surprised.

“me too. i enjoyed the time we spent together. i know that i’m leaving soon and this is a bit sudden, but do you want to see each other again-?”

you sigh, looking out the window again.

“i’m sorry, but i don’t think that’s possible. i hope the rest of your life goes well as you want it to, yang jungwon.”

he nods solemnly. “it’s because you’re with niki, right?” he smiles at your shocked expression. “i figured since he was outside your place. no harm in shooting my shot. but wow, you guys really found each other again.”

you don’t know what to say so you just nod.

“tell him that i’m sorry for what i said in the past and that i wish him the best too.” he gets up from his chair, prompting you too as well.

“we can still be friends, of course,” you rush to add.

jungwon laughs, “it’s alright. i should get over you first before considering a friendship.”

“maybe in another life. we get along too well,” you joke. he laughs too and you know it’s not forced.

“come on, i’ll walk you home.”

you stare at jungwon’s side profile during the walk, as he speaks about random topics and leads the way back.

it’s strange, imagining him as your soulmate. it was weird imagining a life with anyone else but riki. although yang jungwon may be your soulmate, he’s not the one that you want. that’s okay.

when he drops you off, riki opens the door. you’re hesitant, but you see the two give a final nod to each other. jungwon leaves without a glance back, and riki closes the door.

“how was it?”

you lean in to peck his lips. “good. better than i expected, to be honest. now can we start the movie? i was waiting for this all day.”

riki smiles as you take off your shoes and get ready for a night in with him. he glances at your matching gold chain bracelets that he bought recently, a promise for the future. just as riki wanted.

riki doesn’t know what’s going to happen in the future. all he knows is that he’ll be with you forever, red string or not.

that night, he realized he couldn’t give up on you. not again. he would fight like he did before and choose his own destiny.

because the only destiny he had was one with you.

nishimura riki couldn’t see the end of his string. he probably never would. and he didn’t want to. it didn’t matter, after all. now, he looks back at your hands and imagines a perfect little knot in the middle connecting both your red strings.

and he smiles.

hi it’s jae again—thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it as i put a lot of work and effort into it (my longest one shot so far skxnksdnj so pls excuse mistakes/typos if i missed some) actually it hurt to write won as the “bad guy” but i couldn’t think of anyone else close enough to fit the role lol. anyways that’s all, just wanted to say that i’m thankful for all the love, comments, rbs, and support i receive as it keeps me going to write more. i truly do appreciate all 1.2k and more followers, see you guys again in the next works coming soon ;)

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