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saatorus · 4 months ago

Text

golden — s . gojo x reader

synopsis — satoru gojo is your bestfriend and you are his. but sometimes, lines between friendship and something more seem to blur.

pairing — bestfriend! satoru x reader

word count — 10.6 k

warnings — making out, somewhat heavy petting, they take off each other's shirts but that's about it LOL, angst (not a sad ending though), reader feels unwanted at times.

Satoru Gojo.

How long have you known him? Your whole life, probably.

Scratch that. Not your whole life, but definitely the majority of it.

It started in preschool.

You were the quiet kid—the one who clung to the edges of the classroom, never quite fitting into the messy, chaotic whirlwind of children who seemed to make friends like it was the easiest thing in the world. You didn’t know how they did it—how they found each other in the noise, how they paired up so effortlessly, how they just knew where they belonged.

You, on the other hand, spent most of your time alone, stacking blocks in the corner, drawing quietly, or waiting for the teacher to tell you what to do next.

And then there was him.

Satoru Gojo, the loudest, brightest, most obnoxiously happy kid you’d ever met. He was the kind of child who ran instead of walked, who laughed at things no one else found funny, who always had a scrape on his knee but never seemed to care. He was larger than life, in a way that made your stomach twist—not quite jealousy, not quite admiration, just… confusion.

So when he plopped down next to you one day, completely uninvited, you weren’t sure what to do.

“Whatcha doin’?” he asked, peering at the tiny house you were building out of wooden blocks.

You shrugged. “Building.”

“Cool,” he said, grinning. “Can I help?”

You hesitated. You didn’t want help. But before you could answer, he was already reaching for the blocks, stacking them in ways that made no sense.

“You’re ruining it,” you mumbled, frowning.

He blinked at you, then back at the house. “Oh.” And then, without missing a beat, he knocked it over entirely.

You gasped, horrified.

He just laughed. “Now we can build it again!”

You decided, in that exact moment, that you hated him.

But Satoru Gojo was persistent.

He started following you around—not in a creepy way, just in an annoying way. Every time you thought you’d shaken him off, he’d pop up again like a bad penny, grinning that ridiculous grin of his.

Eventually, you just… let him.

It was easier than trying to get rid of him.

And somewhere along the way, he became your first real friend.

Your moms met not long after.

It happened at pickup time, when Satoru ran straight past his usual waiting spot to grab your hand instead. “Can I go to their house?” he asked his mom, all wide eyes and uncontainable energy. “Please, please, please?”

Your mom looked vaguely alarmed, having not expected to suddenly be responsible for another child, but Satoru’s mom just laughed.

And that was that.

Your friendship expanded beyond the preschool walls, spilling into weekends and playdates. Satoru’s house became as familiar as your own, with its too-big windows and fancy furniture that he absolutely wasn’t supposed to jump on (but did anyway). In return, he practically lived at your place, showing up unannounced, eating snacks straight from your pantry, making himself at home in a way that should have been irritating but never really was.

By the time middle school rolled around, he was less of a friend and more of a permanent fixture in your life.

“Okay, but listen,” Satoru said one afternoon, sprawled across your bedroom floor, Switch in hand. “If you had to pick one Digimon partner, like one to be stuck with for the rest of your life, who would it be?”

You barely looked up from your homework. “I don’t know. Agumon?”

“Agumon?” he repeated, scandalized. “That’s so basic. It’s like saying your favorite Pokémon is Pikachu.”

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s literally the main character’s Digimon.”

“Exactly!” He threw his hands up. “No originality. None. Zero. I expected better from you.”

“You asked me,” you pointed out, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, but I thought you’d at least think about it.” He sighed, dramatically flopping onto his back. “I should’ve known. I’m best friends with a casual fan.”

“You should be grateful you have a best friend at all,” you shot back.

Satoru grinned, tilting his head toward you. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

At some point, he started wearing glasses. Not for fashion, not because he wanted to, but because years of staring at screens in the dark, playing Digimon and Pokémon and whatever else he was obsessed with at the time, had officially caught up to him.

“I’m blind,” he announced the day he got them, pushing them up the bridge of his nose. “Absolutely, totally blind.”

You snorted. “You’re, like, mildly nearsighted.”

“Same thing,” he said, already taking them off to examine them. “Do I look smarter with them?”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider it. “Not really.”

“Rude.” He huffed, sliding them back on. “What about cooler?”

You threw a pillow at his face.

He laughed, catching it easily. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

—

Then came high school.

At first, nothing changed.

Satoru was still Satoru—loud, annoying, always in your space. He still showed up at your house unannounced, still texted you at odd hours about random nonsense, still sat next to you at lunch like it was a law of the universe. He was your best friend. Your person.

And for the first two years, you were inseparable.

There wasn’t a single moment where people saw one of you without the other. Satoru Gojo and you. You and Satoru Gojo. Always a pair. Whether it was cramming for exams together, getting kicked out of the arcade because he got too competitive, or spending Friday nights playing whatever old game he got obsessed with that month, he was your constant.

Until junior year.

It started small.

A casual comment in gym class about how fast he was. A joke from a teacher about how he should try out for the football team. A half-dare from some of the guys he barely knew.

And somehow, against all odds, Satoru Gojo became an athlete.

You didn’t think much of it at first. It was just another one of his phases, right? Like that time he swore he’d master speedrunning or decided he was going to learn five languages at once. But he was good—annoyingly good. Tall, fast, with ridiculous reflexes that made him impossible to catch on the field.

And people noticed.

By mid-season, he wasn’t just some new player—he was the star. The guy everyone knew, the guy who had a crowd around him in the hallways, the guy who got called out over the school speakers for game-winning plays.

The guy who no longer just belonged to you.

The first time you really felt it was when he showed up at your house one evening. That part was normal. He still did that, still made himself at home on your couch, still stole whatever snacks he wanted.

But something was different.

You were sprawled out on your bed, flipping through a book, when you glanced up and noticed.

“Where are your glasses?” you asked.

Satoru blinked, as if he had to think about it. “Oh. Right.” He shrugged, plopping down next to you. “They’re kind of a hazard in football, so I switched to contacts. Figured I’d just stick with them.”

You sat up, frowning. “But you hate contacts.”

He grinned, stretching lazily. “Not anymore.”

And just like that, something in your chest twisted.

It wasn’t just the glasses.

It was the way he stopped rambling about Digimon, the way he never asked if you wanted to rewatch old anime together anymore. It was the way his schedule started filling up with team hangouts and parties you weren’t invited to. It was the way people started looking at you differently when you were with him.

Because Satoru Gojo wasn’t just Satoru Gojo anymore.

He was Gojo.

Senior year was when it really started to hurt.

He still sat with you at lunch, still texted you silly memes at night, still acted like nothing had changed. But everything had.

He would often cancel on your invitations, his responses still typed in that absurd, unmistakable way of his—yet his excuses always seemed to follow a familiar pattern. It was always something urgent, something unavoidable: he had to rush off to practice, or there was a party he couldn’t miss, or someone needed his help and he simply couldn’t bring himself to say no. Each time, it felt like a rehearsed script, as though his priorities were perpetually elsewhere, leaving you to wonder if you’d ever truly make the cut.

Every time he plopped down next to you, people stared. Whispered.

“Why’s he sitting with her?”

“Shouldn't he sit with the rest of the team?”

“Is she, like, his childhood obligation or something?”

You weren’t an idiot. You heard it. You felt it.

And it made you snap.

“You don’t have to sit here, you know,” you muttered one day, keeping your eyes on your tray.

Satoru frowned. “What?”

“I said, you don’t have to sit here,” you repeated, sharper this time. “If you’d rather be with your actual friends—”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

You clenched your jaw, hating how defensive he sounded. “Nothing. Forget it.”

He didn’t forget it.

You fought about it. About how he didn’t get it, about how easy everything was for him, about how he could walk into any room and belong while you felt like you had to justify existing.

“You act like I abandoned you,” he snapped, voice low and frustrated. “But I’m right here. I’ve always been here.”

And you hated that he was somewhat right.

So you patched things up. Not because you fully understood each other, but because you both wanted to. And by the time graduation rolled around, you could almost pretend things had gone back to the way they were.

But then came college.

And somehow, Satoru Gojo managed to be even more himself than ever.

Bigger. Louder. More impossible to ignore.

If high school had turned him into a star, then college made him a supernova.

He was everywhere—at parties, in clubs, on the field. Everyone knew him. Everyone wanted to be around him.

And somehow, despite it all, he still tried to keep you close.

“Come with me tonight,” he’d say, sending you an invite to some massive party. “It’ll be fun.”

You always said no.

At first, he laughed it off. But after a while, he started looking at you differently—like he noticed the way you avoided him now, the way you barely answered his texts, the way you pulled away whenever he tried to meet your eyes.

And one night, when he showed up outside your dorm after another party, half-drunk and grinning, you saw the exact moment that grin faltered.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry. “Why would I be mad at you?” you replied, your tone lighter than you felt, as if you could brush the question aside with a casual shrug.

Satoru studied you intently, his glasses nowhere to be found, his hair disheveled from running his hands through it one too many times. His gaze was sharp, unrelenting. “Because you’re avoiding me,” he said, his voice steady but laced with something you couldn’t quite place—frustration, maybe, or hurt.

You forced a laugh, the sound brittle and unconvincing. “I’m not—”

“Don’t lie to me,” he interrupted, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “Not you.”

The words hit you like a punch to the chest, and your throat tightened. You looked away, unable to hold his gaze. “It’s just—” you began, your voice faltering as you struggled to piece together the thoughts that had been swirling in your mind for weeks. “You don’t need me anymore, Satoru. You have them. All your cool—I don’t know, jock and cheerleader friends, everyone else who likes you. You don’t have time for me now.”

He blinked, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he asked, his voice rising slightly, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. His hands gestured vaguely, as though trying to grasp the words you’d just thrown at him. “You think I’d just—replace you? Like it’s that easy? No, like seriously fucking explain to me what the absolute hell you mean?” He mutters out angrily, words slightly slurred.

The air between you felt heavy, charged with emotions neither of you had fully acknowledged until now. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat, leaving only silence hanging in the space between you.

You let out a bitter laugh. “It means I’m tired, Satoru. Tired of feeling like a ghost when I’m with you. Tired of pretending I’m okay with being the weird friend you keep around out of habit.”

Satoru opened his mouth, then closed it.

And for the first time in your life, you saw it—hurt. Real, genuine hurt in his stupidly bright eyes.

“You think that’s what this is?” he said, voice quieter now. “Habit?”

You didn’t answer.

Because if you did, you might have to admit that you missed him. That you missed the late-night anime marathons, the dumb inside jokes, the way he used to act like you were the only person in the world that mattered.

But you weren’t sure if that version of him still existed.

And you definitely weren’t sure if you had the courage to find out.

Satoru stared at you for a long time, the weight of your words settling between you like a stone. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, couldn’t decipher the way his lips pressed into a thin line, the way his fingers twitched at his sides like he wanted to reach for something—but wasn’t sure if he should.

Then, after what felt like forever, he exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

“I don’t get it,” he admitted, voice lower now, quieter, like he was afraid too many words would push you further away. “You’re acting like I left you behind, but I’m right here.”

You bit your lip. “You don’t see it.”

“Then make me see it,” he shot back, suddenly frustrated. “Because all I know is that one day we were fine, and the next, you started treating me like a stranger.”

That stung.

Because wasn’t that what he did first?

He wasn’t the one being looked at differently in high school when he sat next to you at lunch. He wasn’t the one feeling like a burden when you tagged along with him to something you thought was just going to be the two of you. He wasn’t the one realizing, little by little, that your best friend was outgrowing you.

But how could you even say that? How could you explain it in a way he’d understand?

“It’s not just one thing, Satoru,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s… everything.”

Satoru exhaled sharply, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “That’s real specific.”

You rolled your eyes, the exhaustion settling deep into your bones. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Try me.”

You hesitated. He looked serious, standing there under the dim glow of the dorm hallway lights, arms crossed, gaze steady. But what would it change? Telling him wouldn’t undo the years of growing distance, wouldn’t erase the fact that you felt like you didn’t fit in his world anymore.

Maybe it was better to let it go.

So you shook your head, stepping back toward your door. “It’s late. You should go.”

Satoru let out a quiet, frustrated laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Fine,” he said, jaw tightening. “Run away, then. You’re good at that.”

That hurt more than it should have.

But you didn’t argue. You just stepped inside, closed the door, and pretended the ache in your chest wasn’t real.

It got worse after that.

You thought maybe that argument would clear the air—that he’d finally see why you had been keeping your distance. But if anything, it only made things weirder.

Satoru still texted you, but not as much. He still invited you to things, but there was something almost hesitant in the way he asked, like he was bracing for rejection. And when you turned him down (because of course you did), his replies became shorter, more clipped.

Then, one night, he stopped asking altogether.

You didn’t realize how much you had come to expect it—his name popping up on your phone, his easy confidence that somehow, eventually, you’d say yes. But when Friday night came and went without a text, something inside you twisted.

Maybe this was what you wanted. Maybe it was easier this way.

So why did it feel so awful?

A week later, you ran into him by accident.

Literally.

You were coming out of the campus library, arms full of books, when someone rounded the corner too fast and nearly tackled you.

“Oh, shit—sorry—”

You looked up, heart dropping to your stomach.

Satoru.

Your hands clenched around the books, pulse stuttering. It had only been a week, but he already looked different—like he’d fully settled into his role as that guy. Loose hoodie, messy hair, the faint scent of cologne and something vaguely alcoholic clinging to him.

You swallowed hard. “Hey.”

His expression flickered—just for a second. “Hey.”

It was awkward. Awkward. When had things ever been awkward between you?

You shifted your grip on your books. “Uh—sorry. Didn’t mean to—”

“Yeah, no, my bad,” he cut in quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Silence stretched between you. Too long, too tense.

Then, suddenly, his eyes dropped to the stack in your arms. “Of course you’re carrying, like, ten books at once.”

It was such a Satoru thing to say that, for a second, you almost smiled.

Then his gaze flicked up to yours, something softer in his expression, and your breath hitched.

And then—

A voice called his name from across the quad. Some guy you didn’t know, waving him over. Satoru hesitated. Then, with a small exhale, he gave you a lopsided grin. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

He didn’t wait for a response before turning away.

And you stood there, watching him go, feeling like something important had just slipped through your fingers.

Days passed. Then a week. Then two.

And for the first time in years, Satoru Gojo wasn’t part of your life anymore.

No more texts. No more unannounced visits. No more standing at your dorm door at 2 AM, grinning like he belonged there.

You had wanted this, hadn’t you? You had wanted the space, the distance, the freedom to not be caught in his orbit.

But now, without him, everything just felt… quiet. You hated it.

You missed him.

—

It was months before you and Satoru spoke again.

At first, you kept waiting for him to text you, to pop up at your door with some stupid excuse, to send you a meme like nothing had happened. But days passed. Then weeks. Then months. And Satoru Gojo—your best friend since childhood—became just another person you saw in passing.

Sometimes, you spotted him across the quad, surrounded by his usual crowd. Sometimes, you caught glimpses of him at the library, laughing too loudly with friends who barely even acknowledged your existence.

And it hurt.

More than you wanted to admit, it hurt.

But you told yourself this was how things were meant to be. That he had moved on, and you needed to do the same. That whatever had existed between you belonged to another lifetime, one where you weren’t the quiet girl who spent her nights buried in books, and he wasn’t the golden boy who belonged to the whole damn world.

You thought you were doing fine. You thought you were getting used to it.

Until the professor announced lab partners.

The moment your name was called, a small, high-pitched voice cut through the classroom.

“Uh… who?”

Laughter rippled through the room. You felt your face go hot, every muscle in your body locking up as the girl—some blonde from Satoru’s usual group—looked around in exaggerated confusion.

It was humiliating.

Because she wasn’t just some random classmate. She was someone who had spent actual time with Satoru. Who had probably been to his dorm, who had probably sat next to him at parties, who had probably heard him talk about people in his life.

And she had no idea who you were.

You didn’t even dare look at Satoru. Didn’t want to see his reaction. Didn’t want to see whether he’d step in, whether he’d say anything—

But he didn’t.

He didn’t laugh, but he didn’t correct her either.

Didn’t turn to acknowledge you. Didn’t make some joke to brush past it. Didn’t do anything at all.

Just stared at the table like he was somewhere else entirely.

And that, somehow, was worse than anything.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to keep your expression neutral as you scribbled down the details of the assignment. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t a big deal. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

—

Working with Satoru again was… weird.

Not just because of everything that had happened between you, but because neither of you seemed to know how to be around each other anymore.

Gone were the days of effortless conversation, of teasing remarks and stolen fries and arguments about Digimon evolutions. Now, everything felt stilted, careful, like you were two strangers trying to relearn the language of each other.

Sometimes, it almost felt normal.

Like when you sat across from each other in the library, bent over research notes, and he’d randomly hum the Sailor Moon theme song under his breath. Or when he muttered something stupid under his breath about the professor’s handwriting, and you nearly choked on your water holding back a laugh.

But then, inevitably, the moment would pass.

Because girls from his usual group would come over, acting like you weren’t even there, their voices too sweet as they draped themselves over the back of his chair.

“Satoru, are you coming to the party on Friday?”

“Satoru, when are you free? We should all hang out.”

And he’d always answer them. Always give some noncommittal shrug or a lazy smirk. But you could tell—even if no one else seemed to notice—that he wasn’t really there. That when he looked at them, he wasn’t listening.

And yet, he never told them to leave. Never told them that you were working. Never acknowledged you at all when they were around. So, after a while, you just stopped expecting him to.

And then, one day, you got sick.

Not just a little sick. Not just a sore throat or a cough you could push through. No, you were the kind of sick that made your whole body ache, that sent shivers down your spine no matter how many blankets you curled under.

But it was a project day. And despite everything, you still had responsibilities. So, begrudgingly, you shot Satoru a text.

Come to my dorm. I can’t go out today.

He didn’t reply right away. But twenty minutes later, there was a knock at your door. You barely managed to drag yourself over, your vision swimming slightly as you opened it.

And there he was.

Looking the same as always—messy white hair, sharp blue eyes, hoodie slung over his frame like he’d just rolled out of bed.

The only difference? The way his expression immediately dropped the second he saw you.

“Shit,” he muttered. “You look awful.”

You groaned, stepping aside to let him in. “Thanks for the confidence boost.” He kicked off his shoes, setting his bag down before eyeing you carefully. “Have you been drinking water? Eating enough? D’you eat somethin’ you weren’t meant to eat?”

You rolled your eyes. “How am I supposed to know, I just woke up sick as hell.”

Instead of a snarky remark, Satoru just sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Then, before you could protest, he was guiding you toward the bed, nudging you to sit.

“You’re not working like this,” he said firmly. “Lie down.”

“I’m fine—”

“Lie down.”

You hesitated.

This wasn’t him. This wasn’t the version of Satoru you had gotten used to in the past year. The one who was always a little distant, a little out of reach. This was… him.

The Satoru you had known since childhood. The one who always knew when you were exhausted, even when you swore you weren’t. The one who used to push his fries onto your plate when you were too stressed to eat.

The one who, for the first time in months, was looking at you like you were still his best friend. So, slowly, you lay back down.

Satoru exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll get you some tea or something. You have any?” You nodded weakly. He moved toward your desk, rummaging through your stash of instant tea packets like he had done it a million times before.

And for the first time in a long time, the silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable.

It was familiar.

Safe.

And even though you felt like death warmed over, for the first time in months, you didn’t feel so alone.

—

From that day on, something shifted.

It wasn’t immediate, and it wasn’t dramatic, but it was there—a quiet, almost imperceptible change in the way things were between you and Satoru. The library, once the default meeting spot for your project sessions, was suddenly off the table. He stopped suggesting it altogether, and at first, you didn’t think much of it. But then, one afternoon, he showed up at your dorm unannounced, arms loaded with snacks and a careless shrug when you stared at him, bewildered.

“Library’s too loud,” he said, brushing past you and stepping inside like he owned the place. “Figured we’d get more done here.”

You didn’t question it. Not then, and not a week later when you found yourself in his dorm instead, sitting cross-legged on his bed while he scrolled through research notes on his laptop.

“Library’s too crowded,” he explained that time, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

After that, it just became… routine. Your project meetings moved from the library to your dorms, back and forth, as if by some unspoken agreement. The shift was gradual, almost imperceptible, but it was there. You still weren’t quite friends again—not the way you used to be, back when everything was easy and uncomplicated. There was still a careful distance between you, an unspoken awareness of all the time that had been lost, all the moments that had slipped through your fingers. But things weren’t cold anymore. They weren’t distant.

Satoru filled the quiet moments with mindless chatter, the way he always had. He teased you about your typos, stole your pens when you weren’t looking, and groaned dramatically whenever you made him do too much reading. Slowly, bit by bit, the pieces of your friendship started falling back into place. Not completely. Not yet. But enough that sometimes, when the two of you were laughing over something stupid, it almost felt like the past year had never happened.

Then, one day, everything cracked open.

It was late—much later than usual—and the two of you were sitting in his dorm, textbooks and notebooks sprawled across his desk. You were both exhausted, the kind of tired that made your eyes burn and your thoughts sluggish. Satoru was absentmindedly flipping through one of your old notebooks when he suddenly snorted.

“Oh my God.”

You blinked up at him, too tired to muster more than a mumbled, “What?”

He turned the notebook toward you, pointing at a messy doodle in the margin. It was a Digimon—a rough, scribbled outline that barely resembled anything recognizable. But something about it made him grin, leaning back in his chair like he’d just uncovered a hidden treasure.

“Damn,” he said, shaking his head. “Feels like a whole different lifetime ago.”

And then, in a voice so casual, so familiar, he added—

“Remember when we made a whole ass PowerPoint ranking every Digimon evolution?”

That was it.

That was what broke you.

It was so stupid—just a random memory, an offhand remark. But the second he said it, something in your chest twisted violently. You clenched your jaw, swallowing hard, telling yourself not to be dramatic. But then your vision blurred, and suddenly, you were crying.

“Oh—oh shit.”

Satoru’s chair scraped against the floor as he shot up, eyes wide with panic. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

You barely managed to shake your head, your hands gripping your knees as you tried to steady yourself. But the tears kept coming, and then—through the hiccups, through the pathetic, trembling gasps—you broke.

You clenched your jaw, trying to hold it together, but the tears spilled over anyway. Your chest heaved as you choked out the words, “I miss you. I—God, Satoru, I miss you.”

His face went slack, his usual confidence faltering as he stared at you, stunned. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak, like he was trying to process what you’d just said. Then his voice came out quiet, almost fragile. “What are you talking about? I’m right here.”

You shook your head, your hands gripping your knees so tightly your knuckles turned white. “No, you’re not. Not really. You’ve been… gone. For so long. And I—” Your voice broke, and you hated how weak you sounded, how raw and exposed you felt. “I don’t want to be without you anymore. I don’t—I don’t want you to hate me.”

Satoru’s breath hitched, and for the first time, you saw his composure crack. His eyes glistened, and he blinked rapidly, like he was trying to fight it, but a single tear slipped down his cheek. He wiped it away quickly, his voice trembling as he muttered, “You’re so fucking stupid. How could I ever hate you?”

You let out a shaky laugh, but it came out more like a sob. “I don’t know. You just—you stopped talking to me. You stopped needing me. And I thought… I thought you didn’t care anymore.”

He shook his head, his hands reaching out like he wanted to touch you but wasn’t sure if he should. “I care. I care so much it’s stupid. I just—” He paused, his voice cracking. “I didn’t know how to fix it. I didn’t know how to come back after everything. It felt like you were pushing me away.”

“You could’ve just— I don’t even know what to say,” you hiccuped, your voice barely audible. “You could’ve just… stayed. I don’t know— like yell at me, tell me that you care for me or something. I wish I wasn’t so stubborn about not speaking to you either, but god, maybe I just wanted you to like— tell me how much you needed me. Because it never felt like you did anymore.”

Satoru’s face crumpled, and he let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping like the weight of everything had finally caught up to him. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice raw. “I’m so sorry for leaving you behind. I didn’t mean to. I just… I didn’t know how to be around you without feeling like I’d already ruined everything.”

You looked up at him, your vision blurred by tears. “You didn’t ruin anything. I just… I needed you. And you weren’t there. And really, it was my fault too, for not communicating—”

He cuts you off, his own tears falling freely now, though he didn’t seem to care. “I know. But I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know how to fix it. I— I should’ve been there for you more often because God, life without you is just so horrible, and I’ve been so horrible— ”

“You’re fixing it now,” you said, your voice trembling. “Just… don’t leave me again. Please.”

He let out a choked laugh, his hands finally reaching for you, pulling you into his chest. His arms wrapped around you tightly, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. “I won’t,” he murmured into your hair. “I won’t. I promise.”

You buried your face in his shirt, your hands clutching the fabric as you cried. His body shook against yours, and you realized he was crying too—quietly, almost like he was trying to hide it, but you could feel the way his breath hitched, the way his hands trembled as they held you.

“I missed you too,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Every fucking day. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

You didn’t respond, couldn’t respond, because the weight of everything—the months of silence, the distance, the ache of missing him—was finally crashing down on you. But for the first time in what felt like forever, it wasn’t a bad kind of crash. It was relief. It was the feeling of something broken finally starting to heal.

Satoru’s hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he held you closer. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his voice firm despite the tears. “Not again. Not ever.”

You nodded against his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt. “Okay,” you whispered. “Okay.”

It took a long time for the tears to stop, for the sobs to quiet into shaky breaths. But even when they did, neither of you moved. Satoru kept holding you, his arms tight around you, his chin resting on the top of your head. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt safe. You felt like you were home.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were red and puffy, but he was smiling—a small, tentative smile that made your chest ache in the best way. “You’re stuck with me now, like y’know, the annoying kid who’d follow you around as kids,” he said, his voice soft. “Just so you know.”

You laughed, the sound watery but genuine. “Good. Because I miss that Satoru, and I’m not letting you go again either.”

He grinned, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Deal.”

And just like that, something shifted. The distance between you closed, the cracks in your friendship slowly mending. It wasn’t perfect—not yet—but it was a start. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was going to be okay.

—

After that night, Satoru made it a point to talk to you during class.

It was weird at first—uncomfortable, even. Because now, whenever he sat beside you, people stared. People whispered. But Satoru didn’t care. And after a while, neither did you.

Then, one day, it happened.

You were in the middle of a conversation when one of the girls from his usual group strolled up, her friends lingering just behind her.

“Dude,” she drawled, arms crossed. “We’re waiting for you.”

Satoru didn’t acknowledge her.

She huffed, looking at you for the first time.

“Who even are you?” she said, wrinkling her nose.

Silence.

Then—calmly, lazily—Satoru turned to her.

“Fuck off.”

Her expression twisted. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said, resting his chin in his hand. “We’re talking.”

You swore you saw steam coming out of her ears.

She spun on her heel, storming off in a flurry of designer fabric, and Satoru just turned back to you like nothing had happened.

You blinked at him, stunned. “That was… aggressive.”

He shrugged. “Don’t like her.”

You snorted. “You used to hang out with her all the time.”

“Yeah, well.” He gave you a pointed look. “I was an idiot.”

And maybe it was the way he said it. Maybe it was the certainty in his voice, the way he leaned in just a little closer like this—this—was what mattered.

But for the first time in a long time, you felt something settle inside you. Something warm. Something steady. Something that told you, without a doubt—

Satoru Gojo wasn’t leaving you behind again.

—

It happened slowly.

At first, it was just the way things had been before. You and Satoru were best friends again—finally, properly—and you were making up for lost time.

You sat together in lectures. You ate together between classes. You spent hours holed up in each other’s dorms, either working in silence or complaining about whatever god-awful assignment was due next.

And it was good. It was easy.

But then—then—things started to shift.

It was subtle at first.

A hand brushing against yours for just a little too long. The warmth of his body pressed against yours in a too-crowded study session, his breath fanning over your ear as he leaned in, muttering something you could barely focus on.

The way his eyes lingered when he thought you weren’t looking.

The way yours lingered, too.

—

It was a Friday night, and you were at Satoru’s dorm, lying on his bed while he sat at his desk, spinning lazily in his chair.

“I don’t wanna study,” he whined, stretching his arms over his head. “Let’s do something fun.”

You turned a page in your book, unimpressed. “And what exactly do you define as ‘fun’?”

“Dunno,” he mused. “Wanna go for a drive?”

You sighed. “Satoru, it’s almost midnight.”

“And?” He grinned, kicking his feet up onto his desk. “C’mon, live a little.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose. “You just don’t want to do your readings.”

“Obviously.” He snorted. “But also, I feel like getting snacks.”

You hesitated, torn.

Then, finally—

“Fine.”

His eyes lit up. “Knew you’d cave.”

You rolled your eyes, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

—

It was raining by the time you got to the convenience store.

Not heavily—just a light drizzle, enough to make the streets shimmer under the streetlights.

Satoru grabbed half the store’s supply of junk food while you rolled your eyes, paying for your single bottle of tea. Outside, the air was cool, the pavement slick beneath your feet.

“I’m driving,” you said as he dug through his bag of snacks.

“Nah.” He grinned, tossing a chip into his mouth. “I got this.”

You gave him a look. “You almost crashed last time.”

He scoffed. “That was a red light, not a crash.”

“You ran the red light.”

“Meow.”

You cringe, snatching the keys from his pocket. “Oh my god. Absolutely not.”

Satoru laughed but let you.

And for some reason, that made your stomach flip.

—

Back at your dorm, Satoru made himself at home—because of course he did.

He sprawled across your bed, one arm tucked behind his head, the other mindlessly tossing a snack in the air and catching it with his mouth.

“You should be paying me rent at this point,” you muttered, shutting the door behind you.

“I would,” he said, grinning, “but I’m broke.”

You huffed, settling onto the bed beside him. “What, your trust fund isn’t enough?”

He smirked. “Nah, gotta save that for important things.”

You rolled your eyes. “Right. Like overpriced sunglasses.”

“Exactly.”

You shook your head, reaching for the remote.

And then—a shift.

Satoru turned his head to look at you, and when you met his gaze, something in his expression softened.

“Hey,” he murmured.

You swallowed. “Hey.”

He reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

Your breath hitched.

His fingers lingered at your temple, just for a moment. His touch was warm, featherlight.

You exhaled, heartbeat stuttering.

And then—just as quickly—he pulled back, flopping onto his back with a dramatic groan.

“What should we watch?” he asked, stretching like nothing had happened.

You exhaled.

Your chest felt tight.

“Uh.” You cleared your throat. “Dunno.”

And just like that, the moment passed.

—

But the tension didn’t. If anything, it only got worse.

It was in the way his hand brushed your waist when he reached past you.

The way he sat just a little too close, his knee knocking against yours under the desk.

The way his fingers trailed across your wrist when he grabbed something from you, his touch slow, deliberate.

And—God—it was in the way he looked at you.

Like you were something he couldn’t quite figure out.

Like he was waiting for something.

Like he wanted something.

And maybe—just maybe—so did you.

—

By the time second year rolled around, you weren’t sure what you and Satoru were anymore. Still best friends, technically. Still Satoru and you. But there was something else, too.

Something unspoken.

Something fragile and complicated and new. And neither of you dared to acknowledge it.

—

The weather had started to change, the air cooler as autumn crept in. You could feel it in your bones—when the days shortened, and the sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows. It made everything seem a little softer, like the world had gone quiet just to give you and Satoru a chance to breathe, to figure things out.

You were both sitting in the small, somewhat neglected corner of the university park, surrounded by towering trees with golden leaves fluttering to the ground. You were both on the grass, sitting close enough that your shoulders brushed whenever you shifted. It was the kind of quiet afternoon you could’ve stayed in forever, and maybe that was why you weren’t quite ready to let it end.

Satoru stretched, his arms reaching high above his head. “Ugh, my back’s killing me. Who knew studying could be so physically demanding?” He rolled his shoulders, groaning dramatically.

You shot him a sidelong glance, your lips curling into a smile despite yourself. “I think that’s just you, Satoru. You’re a professional at making everything harder than it is.”

He shot you a grin, a smug little thing, like he knew you couldn’t resist teasing him back. “Oh, please, I make things look easy. It's a gift.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, the great Satoru Gojo.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, catching the teasing tone in your voice. “That’s right. You should be honored to sit next to greatness.” He nudged your shoulder with his, the warmth of his body spilling into yours. The touch was light but undeniable. Familiar.

You chuckled, nudging him back. “I don’t know if I’d call you ‘great’ when you still lose to me in Mario Kart every time.”

Satoru gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like you’d just struck a mortal wound. “You—I’m just going easy on you because I don’t want you to feel bad. I’m a gentleman like that.”

You could hear the playful teasing in his voice, but the way he looked at you—his eyes crinkling at the corners with that boyish grin—felt like something deeper.

“I don’t need you to go easy on me,” you teased, leaning in just a bit too much, your voice soft. “I’m pretty good on my own, thanks.”

That was when you noticed it—the way his eyes flickered for a second, his lips curving down ever so slightly before he caught himself. His gaze held yours for a second longer than normal, and for the first time in a while, you both just stayed there. Not a word. No jokes or banter. Just the space between you thick with unspoken things.

Satoru was the first to look away, clearing his throat. “Anyway, want me to go grab us something from that little café over there? You could use some food if you’re gonna keep up with me.”

You hesitated. He’s back to that again. The Satoru who was always making sure you were fed, always thinking ahead for both of you, even when he had to act like nothing was different.

But you didn’t want to ruin the moment, not now. Not when everything felt right.

“No, I’m good,” you said softly, shaking your head. “But... thanks.”

Satoru studied you for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly, before he dropped his shoulders with a sigh. “I swear, you’re impossible.” But even as he said it, his hand reached out—just a quick pat of his large hand atop yours. The briefest of contact, and for a moment, the world paused around you.

The warmth of his hand lingered even after it was gone, and you could feel your chest tightening, your pulse picking up. You didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to.

And for the rest of the afternoon, you stayed like that. Silent. Comfortable in the space between you, letting the quiet be enough. But you both knew it wasn’t just the park that made the air heavy—it was everything unsaid that clung to it.

Eventually, the sun began to dip low on the horizon, casting long shadows that stretched across the grass. You sighed, looking up at Satoru. “We should probably get back soon. It’s getting late.”

He glanced at his phone, then at you, and nodded. “Yeah. You’re right.” He paused. “Hey, you want to walk with me to my dorm? I’m not ready to head back alone yet.”

It wasn’t even a question, not really. But you could feel his eyes on you, like he was waiting for your answer to matter just as much as the offer itself.

You nodded, and the tension between you both lifted just a little as you both stood, stretching out the stiffness in your legs. “Sure, let’s go.”

As you and Satoru walked side by side, the night air crisp and cool against your skin, the silence between you felt heavier than before. It wasn’t uncomfortable—quite the opposite. It was charged, like something waiting to tip over the edge. Every step you took together seemed to draw you closer, and you could feel the warmth of his body beside you, even in the chill of the evening.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, his hand brushed against yours again. This time, neither of you pulled away. The tips of his fingers grazed your knuckles—light, tentative. Like he was testing the waters. Like he was waiting for you to stop him.

But you didn’t.

You swallowed, trying to focus on the rhythmic crunch of leaves beneath your feet rather than the way your skin tingled where he touched you. It was such a small thing, barely even a touch, but it sent your heart skittering against your ribs. And when you finally dared to glance up at him, Satoru was already looking at you, his lips curled into something between amusement and something softer, something unreadable.

“What?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

Satoru tilted his head, his silver-white hair catching in the glow of the streetlights. “Nothing.”

A lie.

Because there was something—so much something—wrapped up in the way his eyes flickered over you, lingering for just a second too long on your lips before he looked ahead again.

The air between you felt tight, humming with something unsaid.

You were nearing his dorm now, the pathway growing quieter, fewer students passing by. It was just the two of you, footsteps slowing, the night pressing in close.

Satoru exhaled a slow breath, and then—without thinking, or maybe because he had been thinking about it too much—he reached out again. This time, his fingers laced through yours, not just a brush, not just an accident. A deliberate touch, a quiet declaration.

Your breath caught, and you felt him squeeze—just slightly, just enough.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice low, like he wasn’t sure he should be asking.

You nodded, your mouth suddenly dry. “Yeah. You?”

His lips twitched, like he wanted to smirk, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Dunno,” he said, squeezing your fingers again. “You’re kind of distracting.”

Your stomach flipped, heat crawling up your neck. “Oh, I’m distracting? That’s rich, coming from you.”

He huffed a laugh, the sound warm, teasing. “No, I mean it.” He stopped walking, tugging you gently by the hand so you turned to face him. “You ever notice how quiet things get when it’s just us?”

You blinked, your throat tightening. “Satoru—”

His free hand lifted, his fingertips barely skimming your jaw. He wasn’t quite touching, just there, like he was still giving you room to pull away. Like he wasn’t sure if he should close the space between you.

And God, you wanted him to.

Your pulse pounded in your ears. It would be so easy. Just one step closer. Just one little push, and—

Satoru exhaled sharply through his nose, his hand falling away, his fingers untangling from yours. He took a step back, running a hand through his hair. “Never mind,” he muttered, laughing under his breath like he was scolding himself. “Forget I said anything.”

Your fingers twitched at your sides, the absence of his touch making your skin feel cold.

“No,” you said, firmer than you expected. “I don’t want to.”

His head snapped up, eyes wide, startled. “You don’t?”

You took a breath, steeling yourself. “No.”

Satoru stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a low chuckle, he shook his head. “You really are impossible.”

And then, before you could overthink it, before you could talk yourself out of it—you stepped forward, pressing your palm against his chest, fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his hoodie. His breath hitched, his body going still under your touch.

The silence stretched again, thick and unyielding.

“Say it,” you whispered.

His hands hovered at your sides, not quite touching, but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him. “Say what?”

You looked up at him, unflinching. “Whatever it is you’re holding back.”

Satoru exhaled, a sharp, unsteady thing. His hands finally settled on your waist, hesitant at first—then firmer, more certain. His fingers pressed into your hips, grounding himself in the feel of you.

And then, his voice—low, raw, real.

“I don’t want to be just your best friend anymore.”

Your breath caught.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The words hung between you, heavy and dangerous and everything.

Then, Satoru leaned in, his nose just barely brushing yours, his lips hovering so close. His breath was warm, and when he spoke again, it was barely a whisper.

“I want more.”

And then, finally—finally—you closed the space between you.

The kiss wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t shy. It was hungry, desperate, like the both of you had been waiting too long to do this, like neither of you wanted to waste another second. His lips crashed against yours, and you gasped against his mouth as he backed you up against the door of his dorm, hands gripping your waist tighter like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

Your fingers curled into his hoodie, tugging him closer, feeling the heat of him seep into you. His body pressed against yours, and the air between you turned thick with something intoxicating, something impossible to stop now that it had started. The small, breathless noises you made against his mouth only seemed to push him further, his fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt, thumbs brushing over your bare skin, warm and firm and so much.

The door behind you dug into your back, and for a fleeting moment, a thought broke through the haze—what if someone sees us?

As if he could read your mind, Satoru groaned against your lips, impatient, and without breaking the kiss, he reached behind you, fumbling for the handle. The second the door swung open, he practically pulled you inside with him, kicking it shut before his lips were on yours again, urgent, demanding.

You barely had a second to catch your breath before he was guiding you backwards, hands never leaving your body, mouth never straying too far from yours. You stumbled together, his grip firm, his kisses growing deeper, hotter, more insistent as you moved through the dark room.

By the time you reached the bedroom, your pulse was a wild, unsteady thing, your skin burning under his touch.

His mouth was warm and soft against yours, kissing your lips like he was afraid you were gonna disappear. Using his strength to his advantage, he manhandled you into his lap on the bed, while he sat up against the headboard. His tongue prodded into your mouth experimentally, and when you obliged him entry, he swirled it around with yours before licking into the cavern of your mouth, tasting you as if you were one of those sickeningly sweet delicacies he enjoyed.

His hands roamed from your waist to your hips, to your thighs before stopping hesitantly over your ass, to which you dragged them down until he was squeezing and kneading the supple flesh with his hands, mouth slotted against yours.

You pulled back slightly, gasping for air, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. But Satoru didn’t let you go far. His hands were firm on your ass, keeping you anchored to him as his lips trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and you tilted your head to give him better access, your fingers tangling in his hair.

His mouth moved lower, pressing hot, lingering kisses along the column of your neck. Each touch of his lips against your skin felt like fire, and you couldn’t suppress the soft moan that escaped your throat. His hands slid up your sides, his touch firm but gentle, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. One hand came to rest on the small of your back, pulling you closer, while the other cupped the curve of your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“Satoru,” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, but he didn’t respond—not with words, anyway. Instead, he captured your lips again in a desperate, hungry kiss that left you dizzy. His tongue slid against yours, and you melted into him, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance as the world around you seemed to fade away.

His hands roamed your body with a kind of urgency, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. One moment they were in your hair, the next sliding down your back, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you. You could feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of his shirt, and you tugged at it impatiently, wanting—needing—to feel his skin against yours.

He broke the kiss long enough to yank his shirt over his head, tossing it aside before his lips were on yours again, more insistent this time. His hands found the hem of your top, and you lifted your arms without hesitation, letting him pull it off and discard it somewhere on the floor. The cool air of the room hit your skin, but it did nothing to quell the heat building inside you.

Satoru’s hands were everywhere—tracing the curve of your waist, skimming over your ribs, brushing the underside of your breast under your bra. You arched into him, chasing the friction, desperate for more.

His mouth found yours again, urgent and unrelenting, his tongue sliding against yours in a slow, deliberate stroke that left you breathless. He kissed you like he wanted to consume you, like he didn’t care about anything else but this—you.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, your breaths mingling, heavy and uneven. Every kiss, every touch, every press of his hands left you dizzy, lost in the haze of heat and want.

And when he pulled back, just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide and his lips swollen from kissing, you swore you’d never seen him look at anything the way he was looking at you now.

Like you were the only thing that had ever mattered.

Both of your chests were heaving, your own shirt flung on the bed somewhere and Satoru’s completely off and forgotten somewhere on the floor. His hands were still settled on your waist, thumbs tracing slow circles over your heated skin. His head lolled back against the couch, a lazy, satisfied grin stretching across his lips.

“Damn,” he exhaled, voice slightly hoarse. “I think I saw the pearly gates for a second there.”

You scoffed, giving his shoulder a weak shove, while reaching for your shirt. “Dramatic.”

He only laughed, the sound bright and breathless. “I mean it, nerd. Who knew you had it in you?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, fingers curling against his shoulders. “Satoru.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

His grin widened, but he obeyed—for all of two seconds. Then, with a teasing glint in his eyes, he waggled his brows. “You know, we should really make this a regular thing. Like, for health purposes. I feel like I just did an entire cardio session.”

You smacked his arm. “Oh my god.”

He gasped in mock offense, pressing a hand to his bare chest. “See? That was uncalled for. Here I am, trying to improve my well-being, and you’re—”

“Satoru.” You fixed him with a look, but the corners of your lips twitched. He was impossible.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating under your fingertips. “Okay, okay, I’ll be good.” His grip on your waist tightened slightly, as if to ground himself—or maybe to keep you exactly where you were. “But… just so we’re clear, this isn’t, like, a one-time thing, right?”

You blinked, his sudden shift in tone catching you off guard. His usual playfulness was still there, but there was something else beneath it—something genuine, something careful.

You swallowed. “What do you mean?”

His gaze flickered over your face, searching. “I mean…” He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck before looking at you again. “I was serious, you know. About liking you. More than a friend.”

Your breath hitched. “You were?”

Satoru scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Obviously. You think I just let anyone straddle me and—”

You smacked his chest. “Can you not ruin the moment?”

He caught your wrist before you could pull away, lacing his fingers through yours. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, quieter. “I was serious,” he repeated. “I am serious.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles. “I like you, and I want to do this properly.”

Your heart thudded against your ribs. “Properly?”

He nodded, suddenly looking almost shy. “Like… an actual date. Multiple dates. Boyfriend privileges. All that cute shit.” His lips curled into a lopsided grin. “So, what do you say?”

Your stomach flipped, warmth spreading through your chest. “You’re actually asking me out?”

Satoru huffed a laugh. “Well, yeah. What, you thought I’d just kiss you senseless and leave you hanging?”

You bit your lip, pretending to think. “I dunno. You are kind of a menace.”

His brows shot up. “A menace?”

You giggled, and he groaned, tightening his grip on your waist. “Okay, that’s it, you’re legally required to say yes now.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the smile stretching across your lips. “Yes, Satoru. I’ll go out with you.”

His face lit up, and before you could say anything else, he was kissing you again, arms wrapping fully around your waist. He shifted, rolling you onto the bed so he was hovering over you, his weight pressed deliciously against yours.

“Guess that makes you my girlfriend now,” he murmured against your lips. “Which means—” His fingers trailed down your side, teasing. “—I get unlimited make-out privileges.”

You huffed a laugh. “You’re so weird.”

“Would you like it if I said sex privileges too?”

“I’m gonna seriously hurt you—“

Satoru only smirked before cutting you off with another kiss.

—

A few months into dating Satoru, you realised three things.

One, he had absolutely no concept of personal space. If he was near you, he was touching you—whether it was throwing an arm over your shoulder, draping himself across your lap, or trapping you against a wall just to say hi like a complete menace.

Two, he was shamelessly, overwhelmingly, ridiculously obsessed with you. If he wasn’t texting you, he was calling. If he wasn’t calling, he was physically finding you. And if he couldn’t find you, he’d send a stupidly dramatic voice memo about how he was “perishing” without you.

And three, he was always teasing. Always testing his limits, pushing your buttons, flashing that damn smug grin whenever you got flustered.

Like right now.

“I think you should stay over.”

You blinked up at him from where you were curled up on his bed, wearing one of his hoodies that was way too big for you. “I am staying over.”

Satoru huffed, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow. “No, I mean, like, actually stay over. Move in.”

You snorted. “Satoru.”

“What? I’m serious.” He nudged your knee with his own. “Just think about it. That trust fund has enough money— actually maybe more— for an apartment near college. We basically live together anyway.”

“Not even close.”

He scoffed. “Oh, please. You leave clothes here, you steal my hoodies—”

“They’re practically dresses on me.”

“—and you’re here more than you’re at your own place.”

“That’s a lie.”

Satoru gasped dramatically. “Oh, so I’m imagining you in my bed every night?”

Your face warmed, but you shot him a glare. “You’re exaggerating.”

He only grinned, scooting closer until your noses nearly brushed. “You love sleeping here,” he drawled. “You love my bed, you love my cuddles, you love this d—”

You smacked a hand over his mouth, but it barely muffled his muffled laughter.

“I swear to God, Satoru—”

Before you could finish, he grabbed your wrist and flipped you onto your back, caging you beneath him in one smooth motion. His weight was just enough to make your breath hitch, his silver lashes casting shadows over sharp blue eyes.

“You love me,” he finished, his voice dipping lower, teasing, smug.

Your stomach flipped.

“…Debatable,” you muttered.

Satoru barked out a laugh. “Debatable?” He leaned down, nuzzling into your neck as his hands slid under his hoodie, warm palms settling against your waist. “You’re literally in my bed wearing my clothes right now.”

Your breath stuttered as he pressed a slow, deliberate kiss just below your ear.

“Admit it,” he murmured. “You’re obsessed with me.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, your fingers gripping his bare shoulders. “Satoru—”

“I mean, I don’t blame you.” He grinned against your skin, pressing another kiss, this one lower. “I am insanely hot.”

You groaned. “You ruin everything.”

Satoru laughed, bright and breathless, before rolling over, pulling you fully on top of him with ease. His hands never left your waist, fingertips dancing over your skin in slow, lazy patterns.

Then he suddenly reached behind him, grabbed something off the nightstand, and slid his glasses onto his face.

You blinked. “I thought you preferred contacts now?”

Satoru hummed, adjusting them slightly as he gazed up at you. “Yeah, but I dunno…” His lips curled into a small, lopsided smile. “You always liked me better in these, didn’t you?”

Your breath hitched slightly. He wasn’t wrong—there was something about the way his glasses framed his face, how they softened him just a little, made him look more like the Satoru you’d known before he became everyone else’s.

“…You’re so full of yourself,” you muttered.

His grin widened. “And yet, you’re still staring.”

You scoffed, reaching up to pluck them off his face, but he caught your wrist, tugging you down until your noses brushed.

“Admit it,” he murmured. “You like me better like this.”

Your heart pounded against your ribs.

“I like you anyway,” you admitted, barely above a whisper.

Something flickered in his eyes—something soft, something warm—before his grin turned teasing again. “Good,” he said, rolling you onto your back in one smooth motion. “Because I was gonna keep you here all night either way.”

You barely managed to mutter, “You’re so weird,” before he cut you off with another kiss.

i don't like this work at ALL lol but tbh i wrote this because i want to be wanted UGH hdhjsdh

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cacoetheswriting · 4 months ago

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i am weak for shy and nervous eddie munson who fumbles when around his crush. imagine him pining over this girl who he’s never even talked to, (maybe they have different social circles) and he just sees her around with her friends and he is smitten and then one day they accidentally bump into each other and she’s like “you’re eddie right?” and you know he’d be so flustered.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2.2k

content warnings: lovesick eddie, pining, a little self-deprecation and self-doubt, mostly cheese and fluff, adult language - wildly unedited, oops.

“I hate this fucking school.”

The group exchange knowing glances as Eddie sits at the table with a grumble. His lunch tray lands with a low crash, nearly colliding with Gareth’s juicebox and therefore spilling its contents all over. A huff and quick reflexes on Jeff’s part save the group from catastrophe, more importantly, save the homework the boy had yet to finish ahead of next period.

Eddie however, doesn’t notice the mess he has almost created. Frankly, he’s not paying attention. Even when Gareth tells him to, “Watch it, dude.”. The metal-head flicks his hand to say he’s sorry for whatever it is that his friends are chastising him for, but his eyes are fixed ahead, on the sole reason he’s in such a grumpy mood.

You.

Or rather Steve the dick Harrington, who’s got his arm draped shamelessly around your shoulders, as if he wasn’t just publicly humiliating Nancy Wheeler — since up until mere twenty-four hours ago, Hawkins High thought the blue-eyed girl was the King’s girlfriend, not you.

Eddie’s miserable. When did this happen? How did this even happen?

Last night, Steve and Nancy were all over each other. Eddie knows this to be fact since he saw them together at that party he wasn’t invited to as a guest, but to work because the popular kids always need a fix and he needs to make a living if he’s ever going to leave this shithole town. Anyway, that’s when Eddie saw the “it” couple and yet, now Nancy is nowhere to be seen and you’re snuggling into Harrington.

“I hate this fucking school,” Eddie repeats, sticking his fork into today’s cafeteria lunch. “Everyone is so two-faced and fake. No one has any integrity.”

The guys don’t need to follow his line of sight because they know very well who and what the metal-head is talking about.

“Maybe if you just talked to her, then you wouldn’t be so miserable today.” Jeff notes without looking up from his homework. “Plus, I overheard Charmaine tell Julie that Harrington is continuing to hold a candle for Nancy. This thing over there, that you’re obsessing over, is just friends being friends.”

“Doesn’t look like just friends to me,” Eddie grumbles, then looks at Jeff. “And I tried talking to her. It’s just, every time I do, my mind goes blank.”

Gareth rolls his eyes. “Dude, she’s not some superbeing. She’s a girl from our school. You’ve got no problem talking to other girls?”

Eddie doesn’t say anything because how does he go about explaining to his friends that to him, you’re more than a girl from school. It’s embarrassing enough how he’s never talked to you and yet, you occupy his entire mind and soul. The guys think it’s just another crush. Eddie knows it’s not. He can’t tell them though because they’ll laugh him out of it. Eddie the freak Munson is very much pining after a girl who doesn’t know he exists. Pathetic.

So, as any respectable guy in his situation would, Eddie continues to wallow in his own self-pity.

He stares at you throughout the remainder of the lunch break, narrowly avoiding your gaze here and there by simply looking away. His downcast humour continues throughout the rest of the day. Since he doesn’t often engage in class anyway, the teachers pay him no mind. Although, their reasons are different: a quiet Eddie Munson is better than one who causes various disturbances. After the final bell ring, he hurries out of the building and blares music the entire drive home, to fizz out his thoughts.

Called into work. Here’s some cash. Go to the diner.

Wayne

Eddie sighs. The one thing he was hoping for were his uncle's words of wisdom, although it seems that will also have to wait. Eddie slides the note into the pocket of his denim jeans and he is out the door again.

The diner is about thirty minutes away from the trailer, by foot. The metal-head decided to walk it anyway, hoping the fresh air would knock some sense into him because he’s got no business feeling this emotionally shattered.

Maybe if he wasn’t such a bitch boy around you, things would be different. Unfortunately, for some reason, ever since he first laid eyes on you, Eddie’s default is shy.

Okay, maybe you and Harrington are a thing now, so what? Eddie’s got no claim on you, unspoken or otherwise. You can date whoever, even if it’s Steve the asshole. It’s also not like you and Nancy are friends. Everyone at school knows you two run in different circles, meaning no girl-code is being broken. There is also the possibility of what Jeff overheard from Charmaine and Julie being true: you and Harrington are nothing but friends. Very friendly friends. Touchy, feely. And Eddie would have noticed earlier if it were simply the case of friendship, therefore, he concludes that you are in fact dating Steve the douche Harrington and he somehow has to come to terms with it.

Eddie pushes the door open and makes a beeline for an empty booth. He orders a burger with fries and a soda from the middle-aged waitress, then whips out a notebook from his backpack while he waits. The only one he carries and it’s not for any schoolwork. The numbers scribbled hastily in the margins are easily mistaken for maths, but that’s just business. He focuses instead on the latest D&D campaign he’s working on.

For a moment, the metal-head forgets about today's events. He gets lost in the fictional world he’s creating. The made up monsters replace any harboured thoughts of you with Steve the turd, although one closely resembles Harrington's famous head of hair and he smirks, proud of himself for the immaturity. He figures if girls can write about their demons in journals, he can bring them into D&D. Bring them, then kill them.

He’s just about finished marking a big cross over the doodle of monster Steve when a figure steps in front of the light, creating a shadow over his notebook. Eddie sighs, foot tapping underneath the table in frustration. He’s about to make a rude remark, but when he looks up to meet the eyes of the perpetrator, he’s met with your wide gaze and naturally, he freezes.

“I like your drawings,” you say.

“Uhm, t-thanks,” he fumbles.

“You’re Eddie, right?”

All he can do is nod in response and you smile. Small and charming. Enough to make the brunette’s head spin and pinch his leg because he can’t believe this is happening. Surely, this must be a dream of some sort. He came home and passed out on the sofa. The only logical explanation for why you would be talking to him, complementing his stupid little doodles. The only logical explanation for why you know his fucking name.

“We’ve never officially met,” you begin and reach out your hand.

Eddie glances at it and without really thinking, he utters, “I know who you are.”

It comes out a little more mean than he intends it to, he knows because you retreat your hand as if you’ve been burned. Eddie’s heart stings. Now he knows it’s real since only he’d be stupid enough to ruin a good thing before it even began. He’s an asshole.

“Sorry,” he mumbles quickly, then straightens in his seat. “Do you wanna sit? I-I have fries.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek for how incredibly pathetic that sounded; fries. You however, don’t notice and you’re also kind enough not to point out how he’s stumbling about his words like a little schoolkid.

“I love french fries.”

And with that, you’re sliding into the booth, across from him.

Eddie watches in disbelief as you help yourself to his food, not just the potato side, as if the two of you have been friends a lifetime. Then, probably to confuse him even more, you start telling him about how your parents locked you out and how it’s nice to see a familiar face, while he’s sitting there in silence, taking it all in, wondering whether perhaps this was some cruel joke Harrington and his band of losers were playing on him.

He wants to ask. Save himself the embarrassment if this does end up being a prank and tomorrow’s gossip: Eddie the freak Munson thought he had a chance. You keep talking, only taking small pauses to take bites out of his food or a sip of his soda, and to Eddie’s surprise nothing happens. No one jumps out screaming, laughing, pointing at him. This is really happening and he is truly baffled.

“Can we get another burger meal and the same soda?” You order from the waitress when she comes around to check the tables and afterwards, turn to look at Eddie, smile ever present. “Kinda ate most of yours.”

“It’s fine,” he manages to say.

For the first time since you sat down, it’s quiet. Now you’re the one staring at him, head tilted slightly to the one side. The smile on your face transforms into something more thoughtful, as if you were trying to read his mind — which is exactly the same thing Eddie was trying to do to you.

“So,” you begin again, “What were you scribbling intently before I crashed the party?”

“Just some stuff for an afterschool thing,” Eddie answers with a shrug, voice a little shaky.

“Mysterious.”

The sparkle in your eyes screams that you want to know more, but the metal-head is hesitant to share. Even though this wasn’t part of some scheme by Hawkins’ finest, it didn’t mean there wasn’t a different underlying reason as to why you were taking interest in him and he didn’t like when people made a fool of him.

Eddie clears his throat.

“Did your parents really lock you out?” He questions.

A brow goes up, it seems you are surprised at his push back.

“Yes,” you say matter-of-factly, then add, “They do this sort of thing from time to time. They’re big hippies, so it’s not like neglect or anything. It’s weed. They don’t want me home when they’re high because they think it would make me undermine their authority.”

Eddie smirks and you tell him it’s not funny, but he can’t help the chuckle leave his throat. When you throw a fry at him across the table, smiling wide, he’s no longer feeling the nervous bubble. In fact, he’s suddenly quite relaxed.

“I’m sorry that I’m a good daughter. Next time I’ll be sure to pick a less judgemental table” you say dramatically, although the grin doesn’t leave your features.

The brunette lifts his hands in front of his chest in a defence motion.

“No judgement here. My social status requires me to second guess reasons people have for talking to me. I had to make sure your boyfriend wasn’t going to jump me the second we stepped outside.”

“Boyfriend?” You seem genuinely taken aback by the assumption.

“Harrington,” he clarifies, although he’s not sure why he should be.

Until you laugh. It’s soft and tender, but it’s a laugh nonetheless.

“Steve’s not my boyfriend,” you state in between giggles, “He’s madly in love with Wheeler. God, does the whole school think we’re dating? He’s gonna hate that. Poor Nancy.”

Eddie blinks. Seems Julie’s information was correct, but it still doesn’t explain the closeness and the banter the entire cafeteria was witness to. He feels weird for letting this bother him so much and even though he usually has difficulties keeping his big mouth shut, he doesn’t want you thinking he’s some sort of pervert, so he doesn't say anything, simply bops his head.

Although, his silence doesn’t seem to deter you.

“I noticed you staring,” you admit, half a decibel lower.

A fresh burger and fries land on the table, followed by a large Coca-Cola. The waitress mutters something along the lines of enjoy, then walks away to tend to another table.

Eddie doesn’t know what to do next: admit or deny. He’d rather go back to fifteen minutes ago when you were eating his food and he wasn’t talking. Therefore, he slides the burger closer to himself and in one swift motion, lifts it to his lips, taking a bite too big for his mouth. He doesn’t care what he looks like at the moment, he just needs to keep himself quiet before saying something else he’s going to regret.

Across the table, you’re all smiley again.

“Do you think, when you’re done eating, you could walk me home?” You ask, offering him a napkin.

As he nods, he reaches for the paper cloth and his fingers brush yours delicately. There’s a zap of electricity, but if you feel it, you don’t react. Eddie’s continuing with the shyness, so he looks down at the burger in his hand and pretends nothing happened to him either.

It’s not until you lean over the table, index finger stretched and inching forward to touch his face, wiping leftover ketchup from the corner of his mouth, that the metal-head thinks maybe, just maybe, you feel some type of way about him too because that’s not what a person does for someone they only officially met minutes before.

Afterwards, you say, “I’ll tell you all about how I’ve been watching you too.”, and Eddie nearly chokes on his food.

thank you for reading & please support your writers by reblogging <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

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bowtiepasta · 4 months ago

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HEAVEN IS A BEDROOM “sleeping naked tonight, open door at your own risk!” are the sort of notes you find taped to your door when gojo satoru is your roommate. of course, there are many pros and cons. but either way — ‘roommates’ doesn’t really cut it for what you two are. ❤︎

WORD COUNT: 1,245

INDULGING: sfw and suggestive at worst, modern/college au, petnames ‘princess’ + ‘sweetheart’, touchy, banter, domesticity over plot, he’s got a fat crush on you, f!reader, some language

ROMY’S NOTE: art in header is by mongsanghwa on twitter, divider by strangergraphics. this one’s been marinating in the drafts for way too long omfg. written for marley hehe ! love you

the only reason you live with gojo satoru is a clerical error. some system glitch paired you two as roommates even though mixed gender dorms weren’t an option (in 2009 japan? absolutely not).

you argued, demanded a reassignment, but the university was already overbooked. all remaining single dorms were full and, no, there were no other available options unless you wanted to couch surf for the rest of the semester. the housing office’s compensation? a rent discount. a big one.

a financial miracle, honestly. living near campus for dirt cheap was a deal you couldn’t refuse, even if it meant putting up with him: a loud, arrogant, 6’3 headache.

which is how you ended up here — standing between the beds in your mismatched socks, coffee mug in hand, digging in his ‘pile’ to see if you can find this week’s language arts assignment.

he leaves his cups in the sink unwashed, clothes strewn over every empty surface, cologne bottles all over the (shared) bathroom counter, and sunglasses in every drawer despite owning only one pair of eyes.

sure, there are benefits. he pays for takeout more often than not, usually without asking for reimbursement. he’s weirdly quiet when he knows you’re studying. he’s clearly very popular, yet weirdly never brings anyone home. and even though he’s a shameless flirt, never crosses any real boundaries with you.

still. he’s annoying. which is why you don’t feel particularly bad when you steal his clothes.

“princess, do you know where my hoodie is? I- oh.”

you look up mid-yawn to find gojo standing in your doorway, hair damp from the shower, towel hanging loosely around his neck. shirt on, thankfully.

he’s blinking at you, lips quirking into a grin that you don’t trust in the slightest.

“well, well, well..” he drawls, crossing his arms. “we’ve got a thief in the house. should I call housing?”

“it was on the couch,” you defend, mirroring him. his hoodies are big, practically swallowing you whole, sleeves covering your hands completely.

“huh. that’s funny,” he says, tapping at his chin theatrically. “because last tuesday, when I simply touched your blanket, you threatened to kill me.”

“that’s different.”

“sure.”

a beat, then a knowing hum from him.

“looks better on you anyway,” he says, not without a certain smugness. “you smell like me.”

you toss a pillow in his direction, rolling your eyes. he dodges it with ease, laughing.

eventually, he stops leaning against the doorframe and stretches, shirt riding up just slightly as he yawns too — a not so subtle trail of white hair peeking out.

“..wait,” he tilts his head, “is that my stuff?”

your mouth opens, then closes. you’re caught.

“I-” you clear your throat, trying to recover. “I was looking for the homework.”

“in my laundry?” he walks over.

“yes,” you say, scoffing as you back away. “because someone likes to throw things around.”

gojo hums, stepping into your space like he’s seriously considering the accusation. then he grins at eye level with you. “could’ve just asked, y’know.”

“yeah, because that always goes well. ‘hey gojo, have you seen my-’”

“nope!” he interrupts, mimicking you. “I am but a humble, devastatingly handsome man. how could I-”

“oh my god, do you ever shut up?”

he laughs, grabbing your wrists when you swat at him. before you can retaliate, he plucks the very notebook you were searching for out of the pile, casually flipping through the pages like it was never lost to begin with.

“wow,” he muses, dragging out each syllable. “can’t believe you doubted me.”

you deadpan. “you’re the one who put it in there.”

“ah-ah,” he wags a finger, stepping backward towards the door. “don’t forget I have what you want.”

“gojo,” you warn.

he hums innocently.

“..give it back.”

“admit I’m handsome.”

you groan, throwing your head back as you plop onto your bed. “I would literally rather die.”

“okay, princess,” he says, clicking his tongue as he tucks your notebook into his elbow, lays down next to you. “guess you don’t need it that bad, then.”

you lunge for him, but he’s faster. not by much, yet enough to be annoying. he holds it over his head.

“gojo,” you warn again, narrowing your eyes.

“hmm? what, sweetheart?”

“give it.”

he pretends to think. “I don’t know, this new arrangement is growing on me. maybe I should hold onto it. for.. safekeeping.”

you glare. “safekeeping? oh, you mean like how you ‘safekept’ my charger for a week? or my textb-”

“that’s unfair.” he pouts, “those were borrowed with a hundred percent full intent to return.”

you huff. “they were in your bag. at school. for a week.”

gojo waves a hand dismissively. “semantics.”

you take advantage of his distraction and jump. it’s a desperate move — probably one you should’ve thought through, but you can’t turn back now.

what you don’t anticipate is how instead of letting you take the notebook like a normal person would, gojo decides to catch you. one arm easily wraps around your waist, and suddenly, you’re way too aware of how close his face is to yours.

“oh?” he says, smug as ever. “if you wanted to be in my arms that bad, you really could’ve asked. I think we need to work on our communication methods.”

there are no words in the japanese, english, nor any language in the world to be exact, to describe how pissed you are at him right now. “let go.”

“but we’re having a moment,” he says, hand to his chest. “the tension is unreal.”

“g-”

“what do they call this in books?” he pulls you closer. “an almost kiss?”

you scowl. “it’s called me pistol-whipping your ass with this straightener if you don’t let go now.”

gojo laughs, but he does let you go — gently, even. but then, the notebook gets tucked back under his arm. “what was that about my ass?”

you glare, holding out a hand., growing impatient. “satoru.”

he whistles, considering. “I think I’d be more inclined to give it back if you ditched class with me.”

you reach for your phone to check the time, but it slides right off the nightstand, sending a small pile of papers tumbling. he picks it up for you, fingers brushing yours when he does.

you take a deep breath, trying to remain composed, but you know you’re about to cave. “..to where?”

his eyes light up like a kid at christmas. who, to be fair, would probably have a higher mental age than he currently does. he slides the notebook out from behind his back, still not handing it over. “just here.”

you sigh, unimpressed. “just here?”

gojo smirks, arms casually folded over his chest. “yep. just here. way better than whatever you're about to do.”

you raise an eyebrow, “you mean go to class.”

he shrugs like it's no big deal. “potato potato.”

you make a face as you look over at him. before you can answer, he careens over, a quick, soft kiss landing on your cheek. you freeze, brain taking a second to catch up.

“stay here with handsome, yeah?” he says, his voice dipping as he waits for a green light.

you blink, staring at him, face heating up. “god, you’re ridiculous — you know that?” you mutter, heart racing in spite of your efforts.

he nuzzles into your shoulder, not giving you a chance to protest, “come on, princess. don’t make me beg.”

romy 🐰 is typing… college aus are probably among my favorite settings? scenarios? tropes? of all time. they always hit. and I eat them up every. single. time. lmk if you want to see it with anyone else (obv not dorms again. probably sports?). rugby boyfriend kuna is calling to me. brb making a draft

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blondeaxolotl · 5 months ago

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Finally dropping a ref sheet for my yuusona, say hi to Yuu/Ebi

undercut if you want to hear me yap about her a bit

Yuu, or Ebi is a giant monster shrimp (non-magic user). Where she came from or what her homeland is currently unknown. But it's safe to assume she comes from a place populated by mostly sea monsters like her.

Despite being a monster (maybe similar to Grim?), Ebi seems to have a more calming and sensible personality when compared to Grim, only reacting strongly when something seriously bad is going to happen (ex: someone almost fucking dying) or when she's over-exaggerating to just get a reaction out of someone. Surprisingly, when she arrived to NRC, she had a more irritated reaction knowing full well she was somewhere she didn't belong, and complained under her breath about "missing work and getting family worried for nothing". In other words she seemed to have known she wasn't in any true danger when she arrived, thankfully. Ebi also appears to be naturally caring for others, immediately taking in with living with Grim at Ramschackle (and eventually becoming his caretaker basically), and helping Ace and Deuce out with whatever issues they're having without hesitation (issues being either preventing them from almost being expelled or just help with simple homework). This soon enough became an on-going thing with majority of the students, and according to Ebi it's because;

"I grew up in a large family and have always taken care of my younger siblings. It's in my duty to help and take care of those who need a hand to come pick them up from the ground, even if they didn't ask for it."

It didn't help that Ebi was already older than most students there, being closer to Leona's age, she started to view and treat a lot of students as if they were her younger siblings. And like it was meant to be, this quickly made her earned the title of "Big Sis Ebi". Making it known that she was someone who the students could trust and come to for both help and comfort. This meant there were a lot of visits at Ramschackle, (especially from the ones who overblotted GULPS) but fortunately, this just made Ebi feel more at home as it reminded her of her actual siblings back at her homeland, so she doesn't mind these visits (Grim on the other hand not so much).

Also yes, just like any older sibling, this does mean Ebi started to mess and tease the ones she viewed as younger siblings a lot. It ain't a true sibling bond without at least a wee bit of sibling rivalry 👌 (Rip Ace he's the most common victim to this).

ANYWAY, okay enough yapping, when I first created Ebi she was just a silly gag I made when I first got into twst.

But when I actually started to put effort into her I at first didn't know what to do since most yuusonas I know of were shipped with other characters. But I didn't want Ebi to have anything romantic with any character, I decided what better way than to basically make her the older sister figure everyone comes to when they need help? I thought it's both funny that characters are looking for comfort from a literal giant fucking shrimp, but also twst characters genuine just seem to lack a lot of comfort because Jesus fucking Christ all of you need therapy and a hug, no matter if it's by a shrimp or not 😭.

Okay yeah, that's it for Ebi if anyone has any questions about her or her dynamics with other characters, feel free to send an ask in my inbox 🦐.

#Mono finally posts about their dumb monster shrimp yuu YIPPEEE #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland fanart #twst fanart #twisted wonderland yuu #twst yuu #yuusona #twst monster shrimp yuu #big sis ebi 🦐#twst grim #twisted wonderland grim #ramshackle #monodukes art #ocs

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softtdaisy · 4 months ago

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falling anyway / Aaron Hotchner

summary. hotch knows he shouldn't fall for the babysitter. but sometimes things are meant to be.

words count. 3 603

what to expect. fluffy and flirty, age gap but reader's age is not tell she's a student, jack is mentionned obivously

a/n. this is way longer that i thought it would be but i didn't want to say goodbye to this story, i want to write so many things about hotch and the babysitter so i hope you will love their story too 🥹

criminal minds masterlist | F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

There were different things that could make up for the terrible week you’ve spent.

Spending a chill day watching your favorite TV show.

Seeing your friends for a coffee or a drink.

And taking care of Jack Hotchner was also a solution.

You’ve been babysitting Jack for six months now. You needed a new part-time job; Aaron Hotchner, one of your father’s colleagues, needed a new babysitter. The deal was done.

You’ve never seen a kid so easy to take care of. Usually, you and Jack shared the same routine: you helped him with his homework, and he helped you make dinner. You would play some games and then show him a movie from your list of favorites from your childhood. Harry Potter? Done. Narnia? Too. Back to the future? To be done.

You were this close to calling him your best friend at this point. To be honest, you missed him when you weren’t babysitting him.

With Hotch’s job, your presence wasn’t so linear. When he had to leave for a few days, Jack was staying with the family. Days when he was still paying you. “It’s my fault you’re not working; I don’t want you to have financial issues,” he said when you fought to give him the money back. You felt like taking advantage of the situation, and you hated that. But you quickly learned that there was nothing you could do when Aaron Hotchner had decided something.

Not that you really mind the whole commanding trait.

“I’m sorry to ask you that,” you heard Hotch say on the phone. From the noises around, you guessed he was in his car.

Your Friday night plan was to stay home and forget about your week.

College was awful; you got bad grades in one of your favorite classes, and your date stood you up and ghosted you. But when Aaron Hotchner called you in a last-minute emergency, you found his plan way better than yours.

“This is an important dinner; I can’t excuse myself from going. I know it’s last minute, but…” You put him on speaker. His voice becomes a part of your get-ready playlist.

“Aaron,” you interrupted him. His name always felt like candy on your tongue. One that you’re not allowed to have, making it taste even sweeter. “I’ll be there in twenty; is it good for you?”

Then there was a silence that made you wonder if he even heard you. Then two words. “Thank you,” and silence again after he hung up.

You barely ever had any discussion with Hotch since you started working for him. Apart from the classic news from life, you never said much, and neither did he.

Jack, on the other hand, was a heavy speaker. It was thanks to him that you learned things from Hotch’s life: how work was taking much of his time and how he was barely going outside of it, which team he supported, or what kind of music he played in the car—but only when Jack was there.

You could only guess what he told his father about you in exchange.

When you arrived at Hotch’s place, he was the first thing you saw. On the phone, he was leaning against his car. His open suit jacket was flying with the wind, opening to his muscular chest and dad bod you could see through his shirt. And thinking about that, you realized how cliché you were for dreaming about the father of the kid you were babysitting.

But you’ve been on that road for so long now that you didn’t know the path to go back. Nor did you want to take it.

When Hotch saw you, he gave you a very short smile. He put his hand up, asking you to wait for him. And you did. Of course you did. You tried to focus on something to not overhear what he was saying, but it was hard when his voice sounded like a melody in your head.

His “bye” sounded like a secret code, and you finally let yourself turn to him. “Thank you again for coming.”

Hotch never really knew how to act around you. He was your boss, technically, but he couldn’t act as he was with the team. He didn't mean to sound too friendly or nice so you wouldn’t imagine things. He didn’t want you or your dad to hear that he was being flirty with his daughter or for Jack to lose you.

And this conflict was obvious in many situations. The way he moved his hand up showed he intended to shake yours before changing his mind and putting it on your shoulder. A greeting and thanking at the same time.

“I should be the one to thank you,” you replied with a laugh. “I needed something to change my mind, and Jack is perfect for this.”

You noticed the change in his expression when you said that. Clearly putting him in the investigator mode. “Are you alright?” Maybe you dreamt it, but for a second or two, his fingers were holding your shoulder tighter.

From the little time you spent with Hotch these past months, you thought he didn’t know you enough to care or to notice it anyway. Clearly putting aside the fact it was his work to see these kinds of things. So you simply brushed it off before he left, saying it was nothing important.

But Hotch did. He noticed the dark rings under your eyes or how you seemed to shine a little less than the other days. You were always so bubbly; sometimes you even made his day brighter with the little attention you seemed to give naturally. Like a much-needed smile, questioning him about his day or offering him a cookie from those you made with Jack earlier. Cookies that were staying at his place and that he could have taken himself. But you chose to offer it yourself.

And knowing you weren’t going well, I stayed with him the whole night. Even during his dinner with high-level agents from the FBI. At some point, he probably even missed some conversations. Too busy trying to understand what could be wrong with you. Or what he could do to help.

He knew it wasn’t really his place to help you in any way. But something he hated more than overstepping the line was being useless in front of someone’s bad mood.

Hotch didn’t come home until midnight. He wasn’t surprised to feel the calm inside. Even if Jack was a heavy sleeper, you always put the TV on a quiet volume just to be sure it wouldn’t wake him up. You always kept just the lamp beside the sofa to have a warm and cozy atmosphere. And since you’ve cleaned the kitchen after dinner, he could smell a mix of dish soap and your perfume in the air.

And like he expected, you were laying on his couch, with a blanket covering your legs, reading the same book he was on.

That was a kind of secret but not so secret habit you had. When Hotch noticed once or twice that you were reading the book he inadvertently left on his coffee table, this became a routine. You never talked about it. You both just liked the idea of sharing the same interest.

He stayed in the back, appreciating how peaceful his place was. Until he felt bad about being there without your awareness. So he put his keys in the bowl you helped Jack create for Father’s Day, slowly but still loud enough so you can hear it. And it worked.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” Hotch, said, sitting next to you. He put his jacket on the back of the couch; his tie was slightly undone, and you tried not to focus on his undone cufflink too. You had a thing for the way his open sleeves were showing his muscled and hairy wrists.

“You didn’t,” you replied, bringing your knees up against your chest. “I'm getting used to hearing you coming back,” you added with a smile. It was only after the words left your mouth that you realized how domestic this sounded. And the little smile on his face let you know that he noticed too.

But that didn’t seem to bother him. Or at least, he didn’t say anything.

Instead, you watched as he put a doggy bag on the coffee table. “Don’t tell Jack, but I brought back the dessert.” He sounded so innocent, like a kid hiding his secret from his parents and not the other way around. You couldn’t contain your laugh when you watched him rub his hands before opening the box.

“Enjoy your dessert,” you said with a laugh. You also took that as a sign to leave. After such a long day, you guessed Hotch needed a moment for himself without the babysitter being underfoot. So you got up and took the blanket to fold it when he grabbed your hand softly. And showed you two spoons.

“I’m not eating that alone,” he offered, handing you one of the spoons with a shy smile. No words could explain the heat in your heart when you understood he wanted you around.

So you sat back, unintentionally closer to Hotch than you were before. So close that you even touched his thigh with yours. You both looked down, and the apologies left your lips quickly, taking enough distance so you weren’t this closeto sit on his lap anymore.

Looking away, you missed the blush on his cheeks after he lost your contact.

To lighten the mood, you tilted your spoon next to him to toast. When you heard him laugh so softly, like he didn’t even mean to, this felt like a victory. As hot as it can look on him, this serious look, you loved to make his day a little brighter.

But this victory was soon over when he turned to you. “Would you like to share what’s on your mind?” when you frowned, having too much respect for him to talk with your mouth full. “You said you needed to change your mind.”

You took a moment to think about it. You didn’t even remember telling him about that, making you wonder what other thoughts you slipped since you started working for him. Yet, talking to Hotch didn’t seem a bad idea. He had this comforting look in his eyes, and you felt safer next to him than you did with most people in your life.

“That’s stupid,” you started. You noticed the look he gave you; he didn’t like the idea of you judging yourself before speaking. But you chose to ignore it and told him about your week. “And I think I finally lost hope in love for good.” You finished your story with a sad laugh. Because there was some truth in this.

You were met with a silence. But when you turned your head to look at him, you saw that his eyes never left you. “You do?” he asked in a genuine and sincere tone. One that made you blush. Because a part of you still pretended like Hotch wasn’t really listening. It would have been easier to accept that you were opening your heart like that. This explained why you started looking at your cake instead.

“It’s just…I’m tired of running after men who clearly don’t appreciate me. I keep getting hopeless and sad because dating has become a joke for them. And it’s not one for me. And I just don’t know what to do.”

Before you noticed it, you were playing with your cake and reducing it to a pulp. Much like your heart these days.

“I just wished there were more men like…” You sighed, turning to look at Hotch. He was there, frowning, waiting to hear more. Not prepared for the last word missing from your sentence. “More like you,” you added.

Hotch froze, his spoon close to his lips. So close you missed the way it curled into a small smile. Both flattered and curious to see where you were heading with this idea.

“You’re great, you’re mature, you’re an amazing father, you know what you want, you take good care of you, of Jack, of this house. And I’m convinced you can take good care of a woman too. You’ve never been anything but nice and gentle with me, so I can't imagine how great you must be with someone you love.”

It has been a long time since Hotch heard that he might be a great man. Being a divorced, then widowed, single father working too much to the point he had to take a babysitter who was probably seeing his son more than he was wasn’t the definition of a great man for him. But maybe he was too hard on himself.

Or maybe you were too kind about him.

And maybe that was the reason it hit him like that. You were the one who said that. Not any woman he might have brought on a date, and probably won’t see again because he didn’t feel the connection he was craving for. You. Jack’s babysitter. The woman who hunted his dreams to the point he considered he might need to ask you to stop coming.

But he couldn’t do that to Jack, who clearly appreciated you a lot.

And selfish, he couldn’t do that to himself either. He loved seeing you around. He found some comfort in his crazy and not always so easy life knowing you would be there when he came home.

“I…I’m sorry.” You stuttered, getting up suddenly. You needed air. You needed to get out of here before proposing to Jack’s father and getting jobless. And maybe being removed from here, from the city, from the country even! Who knows what the BAU chief can do?

This time, you put the blanket away in a messy way. And soon, you were in the hallway, collecting your bag and even chose to put on your shoes after you passed the door to not waste another moment of his time.

But right when you were going to open the door, a big, hairy, somehow charismatic hand landed on the wood to prevent it. When you turned, you faced Hotch, who was closer to you than you imagined. “You mean that?” he asked, confused.

This whole minute of preparing your escape, you imagined he was still sitting on the sofa. Probably eating the part of the cake you left on the table, not bothering about you leaving, and maybe even thinking about the text he would send you tomorrow to inform you of your dismissal.

But you certainly did not imagine Hotch would run after you.

“Do you mean that?” he asked again, moving just a little closer to you. But enough for you to feel the desire from his body. You had to tilt your head backward to look at him and suddenly got lost in the beauty of his face. It was the first time you were seeing him like that, and you could be sure that your subconscious would be looking forward to putting this beautiful face in each one of your dreams.

No words left your lips, at first. So you simply nodded. “Say it.” Hotch whispered, bringing his face closer again. You could taste the luxurious wine he drank that night and the sweet dessert you both ate in his breath. And for a second, the single thing on your mind was how good it must taste on his lips too.

“I do,” you finally replied, looking up at his eyes. But his were down on your lips this time.

And after whispering a “good” that you almost missed, his lips finally tasted yours. In the softest and sweetest kiss you’ve ever had. There was something in the way Hotch felt almost vulnerable against you, like he didn’t know how to act. Yet, the experience was speaking too from the way he put you against the wall, how one of his hands ended up in your hair to grab them just with the right strength: enough to keep still and not hurting you. You were right; that man knew what he wanted and how to get it.

You let one of your hands run through his chest. You grabbed his loosened-up tie to gain a little height. Now that you got it, you wanted more of him.

But the reality hit you at the same time.

Or more exactly, when you heard little steps on the hallway coming to you.

Hotch was fast at stopping the kiss and putting a good distance between the two of you. Yet, he kept his hand on your waist longer. Long enough that when Jack finally appeared, you still felt the touch of his fingers on your skin.

“Daddy, you’re home.” Jack said in a sleepy voice, lazily walking to Hotch to hug him. You always loved how Hotch’s whole world seemed to light up every time his son was around. The love he had for him was undeniable.

“Let’s go back to sleep, buddy.” Hotch said, taking Jack in his arms to carry him back to his room. You watched as the little boy put his little hand on Hotch’s back, probably with no strength at all but just with the need to feel his dad with him. Every movement between the two of them seemed so natural.

But before leaving the living room, and probably reading your mind somehow, Hotch turned back to you and whispered, “Wait for me, please,” with a tone that clearly indicated it was both an order and a pleading.

So you did. But instead of sitting back on the couch, like he probably expected you to, you took the empty plates and did the dishes. Something you were used to, you did that only a few hours ago. You needed to keep your mind occupied while he wasn’t here; otherwise, you couldn’t promise you wouldn’t run away.

You were so focused on what you were doing that you didn’t hear Hotch coming back. You just felt his chest against your back when he approached. Thrills grew on your arms when he put his hands on the counter, surrounding you. When you turned your head to look at him, you noticed he had let go of his tie and had opened up the first button of his shirt.

“I can call you a taxi,” he whispered in your ear. You lost it at the contact of his lips with your skin. So much that you didn’t understand straight away what he said.

You then turned around to face him. “You kissed me, and now you’re sending me away? You have a weird way to deal with women,” you replied, frowning. You discovered a new expression on his face. A sweet and mostly flirty smile. One that had reached immediately to the top 3 of your favorite looks on him. “I might take back what I said earlier,” you added, yet still placing your hand on his chest. It wasn’t your fault; it was calling you.

“I just don’t want you to regret what happened tonight and feel pressured to stay here if you don’t want to.” Hotch felt like a high school boy who wanted to hide his girlfriend in his bedroom. And if he listened to his heart, he would. It was hard looking at you now that he knew this wasn’t all in his head and fantasy.

When he brought a hand to your face to put a strand of hair behind your ear, you cuddled against it. And feeling his thumb brushing your cheek softly was worth it. “You mean I have to go home knowing I can have this now?”

“I mean, you can stay the following nights to…have this.” He laughed, from the way you both worded it but also from the falsely menacing look you were giving him. You were making it harder for him to let you go.

This explained why you stayed longer like this, in the middle of the kitchen. Just talking and flirting until the driver was here. And you both lived through every minute like there was no tomorrow.

“Promise me you will tell me if you regret it.” Hotch said one last time when he opened the door for you. He had to be sure you got in the car safely. He also allowed him to have the option to keep you with him until the last second.

You replied with a kiss on his lips and a “I won’t,” said happily.

When he woke up the next morning, Hotch noticed he had a text from you. For a second, he got scared something happened after you went home. He was ready to jump out of bed. But when he opened it, he ended up giggling.

“I still don’t regret it.” you wrote.

It has been months, probably years, since he felt this lighthearted at the idea of texting a woman. But you weren’t any woman. You were you. Probably one of the few people to know him well, except from the team. So maybe it was meant to be. “I don’t regret it either,” he replied back. And when he saw the heart you left on the text and the bubble indicating you were writing, he added a new goal to his life: spending more time with you. And who knows, maybe considering that life and love still had some surprises to offer him.

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janitorhutcherson · 2 years ago

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Marked Only for Me (Olderbf!Mike Schmidt NSFW)

hii!! okay, i have never written smut before, so i am begging you all to plz be patient with me! this is very long, so my apologies.this is a part of my olderbf!mike series, so hope u guys likeee. also, for this let's make the assumption mike went to college and all of that before his security jobs. he just had burn out and was there, hence why he's working for a major company with what would be little experience. anyways, lmk what u think!

summary: mike comes home and needs to blow off some steam

warnings: nudity, sex, name calling, hair pulling, choking, marking, possessiveness, an implied free use situation, fluff at the end!!

word count: 2,925

nsfw after the cut!!

You were sitting at the kitchen table doing homework in the home you shared with your boyfriend, Mike. You're 20, a couple of years into college, drudging through math problems that make your head feel like it's sitting inside a frying pan. You had to admit this wasn't your ideal way to relax after a 10-hour shift at the bookstore you helped run. Things had been hectic with Black Friday, your store doing a special sale where everything was 50% off, and bookworms were coming out of random corners to fill their already overflowing shelves for cheap. Of course, being younger, you were the one who had to do the grunt work, carrying piles of books to and from inventory, dealing with the more demanding customers as your older coworkers would tell you that they "just couldn't handle kids these days" and that it'd certainly be better for the younger one to do it. Luckily, though, Abby was at a friend's house, meaning you didn't have distractions. You were as focused as could be with a cup of coffee beside you, the sunlight that was once beaming through the cracks of the blinds now completely gone. You were focused, your brain functioning as much as it would with the problems. Things were quiet.

...That is until Mike stormed in. He was frustrated, angry, an invisible red-hot aura beaming off him. His hair was messier than it typically was. The softness in his eyes was instead replaced with a cold look. His eyebrows were furrowed together on his forehead, his jaw sharp and defined as he gritted his teeth. Although this wasn't common, it wasn't necessarily rare either. Mike worked for a publishing company as a marketing manager. He'd gotten the job after a few months of hard work to make up for the slack on his resume after working at the mall and the pizzeria. He moved up the ladder quickly, his company admiring his friendly attitude and his somewhat shy but personable behavior. He loved his job much more than his past ones. He felt happier, got more time off, was less stressed, and was definitely safer. Even with that being said, sometimes shit just pissed him off.

Today's big issue was a meeting with his marketing team, which also involved the big guy over his head. He felt like he was criticized, demeaned, dragged through the mud, and all in front of the team he was supposed to be respected by, listened to. On a typical day, this might not have pissed him off so much. He might've mentally plotted the demise of his boss, but he wouldn't have caused the outburst he did at work, and today had been particularly awful. He'd been late, burned his breakfast, knicked himself while shaving, and even gotten into what he considered to be a little fight with you the night before. Even though you'd both settled the argument, made up, and kissed before bed, he had been thinking about it all day. He'd then spilled coffee on his brand new tie, leaving a stain, and then... that happened. Mike snapped. He yelled at his boss, showing his ass in front of everyone, causing a meeting in his boss's office to end with an inevitable write-up.

Now, he was home, trudging in all his bad energy, disrupting your study time. You couldn't even be frustrated with him, his demeanor proving he'd obviously had a bad day. You went to stand up to greet him with a hug, a kiss or two, but before you could, Mike stormed over to you, grabbing your arm harshly. You gasped, slightly thrown off by his sudden actions. He pulled you closer to him, his eyes locked on yours and his breath heavy against your neck.

"What the fuck, Mike?" you said, your eyebrows furrowed as you stared into his cold brown-green orbs.

"Listen to me," he grunted, his voice low and gravely. "I have had a very, very bad day, and I need you to be a good girl for me, okay? I don't want no shit, no back talk, you'll listen to what I say.. do you understand?"

His hand still gripped your arm, his fingernails digging into your skin. You could feel yourself starting to drip, your panties feeling damp against your skin as your body buzzed with excitement. All you could do was nod your head, your eyes locked on his as they clouded over with lust. Mike snapped his fingers in your face, looking at you from underneath his eyebrows.

"Use your words," he demanded.

"Yes sir, I understand," you stuttered out, your cheeks flushing red. Mike's face was now pleased, his entire demeanor softening a little. His hand stayed wrapped around your arm as he tugged you into the living room, pushing you roughly onto the couch. You huffed from the impact, your eyes widening as Mike dropped to his knees before you. He slid your sweatpants off, prying your knees open to reveal your see-through pink panties soaked beyond belief. His eyes were hungry, his mouth open, almost drooling as he looked directly into your eyes.

"All for me, babydoll?" he teased, his hand sliding in between your legs as he drew small circles around your clothed clit. You nodded your head as a whimper escaped your lips, the aching in between your legs only growing worse.

"What did I tell you?" he said, his words sharp as he smacked the inside of your thigh.

"Yes sir," you corrected, your words wavering after the impact from his hand. Mike nodded, satisfied with your answer, as he slowly slid your panties down your thighs, wasting no time. You gasped once again as the cold air hit your wet cunt. Mike exhaled sharply, taking a moment to admire you in front of him. His eyes trailed up to your pathetic look, your already-glazed-over eyes, down to your barely clothed chest, only a sports bra covering your breasts he loved so much, then down to in between your legs, where you were so wet, and all just for him. His lips trailed up to your tummy, sucking on the skin in different areas, from above your abdomen all the way up to right below where your sports bra stayed, purple marks forming.

He then dove in without hesitation, his large hands gripping your sides as he leaned in, moving one hand to take his index and middle finger to spread your pussy lips. His mouth instantly attached to your clit. You yelped as you bucked your hips forward, his lips meeting the sensitive area. Mike pinched your thigh, a sign to quiet down until he said to do otherwise, two of his fingers reaching out to be shoved into your mouth.

“Suck,” he demanded, his fingers going as far back down your throat as they could. You did what you were told, sucking on his fingers and drawing your own circles with your tongue. His tongue drew tiny and slow circles against the set of nerves, your hands reaching down to tangle in his hair from desperation. God, he loved eating you out. The way you yelped, quivered, shook underneath him, your hands tangled in his hair to keep yourself from going over the edge. He fucking loved it, you were the perfect cure to his anger, calming, something he could take it out on in a productive way that made everyone feel good. Your whines were suppressed as you bit your lip, your teeth digging into the softer skin. Mike pulled away for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once again as he admired your face, your now swollen lips.

“You know what, baby? Be as loud as you want for me now, princess,” he mumbled, going back to attacking your wet cunt. Slurping sounds filled the living room mixed with your moans and whimpers as his tongue slid up and down your slit, his lips wrapping around your clit to suck as hard as possible when his tongue wasn’t fucking inside of you. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. His cock was rock hard inside of his work pants, his own face flustered as he rocked back and forth against himself. His tongue continued to lap at your clit as he slid two of his large fingers in and out of you, your walls clenching around them. You could feel yourself drawing close and Mike could tell. Your thighs attempted to clench around his head, but before they could his calloused hands pried them open, holding them apart. Just as your eyes began to clamp shut, your thighs shaking as the knot in your stomach started to untie, Mike pulled away. You gasped as he slipped his fingers out, furrowing your eyebrows as you stared at him with an angry glare. He chuckled as he stood up, raising his eyebrows up and down as he leaned down, his hand lifting your chin up.

“Poor baby, was all ready to finish for me, hm? You were gonna be ‘Mikey’s little slut,’ weren’t you? That’s what you tell me you are, right? My little slut?” he teased, no remorse behind his eyes. You huffed, punching his arm before crossing your arm, too out of it to say anything from the knot that remained in your stomach but too angry to take initiative.

“Awh, don’t be mad, princess,” he snickered, shaking his head as he leaned further down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “You really think I’m done with you?”

With that being said, Mike pushing you back on the couch. His right hand held you down as his lift struggled to unbutton his pants. He pulled his pants down, letting them fall around his ankles as he yanked his boxers off, his cock springing out. He stepped out of them, letting you go for a moment to unbutton his shirt before tossing it off as well. Mike then looked over to you, leaning forward, ripping your thin sports bra off of your chest, your breasts now exposed to him. He licked his lips, excitement overflowing his body. He crawled on top of you, attempting to make the two of you fit on the couch. His mouth attacked your nipples, biting and gnawing at your skin. His mouth moved up to your neck, sucking and prodding and biting until purple marks were left all around, ones you were all too aware would be impossible to hide later on. He moved down to your chest once again, marks all across your collarbone, your tits. Mike’s hands gripped onto your neck as he sat up, looking into your glossed over eyes. He pressed his lips to your ear, a soft kiss against your earlobe.

“’M about to fuck you so hard you see stars,” he said, his voice causing prickles to cover your skin. Then, without hesitation Mike slammed into you, his pace staggered. Your moans were as loud as could be, the sound of skin hitting against each other and the echoes of both of your voices filling the living room. His thrusts were sloppy as he felt himself starting to get close to the edge, his hands pushing your hips down and into the couch. Your entire body sunk into the cushions as he used everything in him, his cock abusing your poor cunt. You swore you saw stars until you felt his hand gently smack against your cheek, your eyes averting back to his gaze.

“You’re gonna look at me when I fuck you, princess,” he growled, his hand sliding up to your hair as he tugged. You grew close, clenching around his length, your thighs starting to shake. Your core was threatening to come undone.

“Fuck, Mikey, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum,” you whimpered out, closing your eyes as your head leaned back against the side of the couch.

“Cum for me, baby,” Mike stated. You did as he demanded, finishing around his cock as your liquids gushed against him. His thrusts grew sloppier before he pulled out, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“You’re such a good girl, you know that baby? You did so good for me, listening to what I said, letting me use your pretty cunt,” he stated, his thumb caressing your cheek. He then resituated, pulling you off the couch, pushing you onto the ground. You were now in the same position he was in earlier, completely fucked out. Your lips were dull from exhaustion, your cheeks red and your hair knotted in certain areas. Mike’s cock was directly in front of you, his hand guiding for you to suck on him. Your lips wrapped around his tip, the tip of your tongue licking his slit. You worked your mouth down his length, licking the sides. Mike’s moans became frantic, desperate as your mouth worked its magic. His hand tangled in your hair as he pushed your head up and down, thrusting up into your mouth.

“That’s it, baby, feels so good,” he grunted. With no warning, Mike pulled out, spilling his load all over your face. He twitched, his moans loud and low, your tongue stuck out to catch his cum. His body laid against the couch, feeling heavy as his head leaned against the back of his couch. A tired grin was on his lips as you also smiled up at him, licking yourself clean. Mike looked down at you, a chuckle releasing his lips. It was obvious all of the tension and anger was gone, as his once cold eyes were once again the soft loving brown they used to be. He looked at you with adoration, always amused by how gorgeous you were even after rigorous activity and getting your face painted.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, picking you up bridal style as he leaned down to kiss you, not caring about his own load that was now on his face. He sat you down on the bathroom counter, grabbing a washcloth out of the cabinet, running it under warm water. He started to wipe away all of the liquids covering your face, pressing kisses to your skin here and there, looking your body up and down as he admired all of the marks he left.

“You always know how to make me feel good and how to take care of me after,” you croaked out, your voice laced with exhaustion as you smiled. Mike smiled back at you, his hand tenderly touching your cheek before pushing your hair behind your ear.

“I love you, of course I want to make sure ‘m taking care of you,” he said softly. His lips once again pressed against yours. “Thank you for letting me… you know.. blow off some steam,” he said, wiggling his brows.

“Of course, honey. I was worried, though. Is everything okay? Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, leaning forward as you slid off of the counter, grabbing a new washcloth and beginning to wipe his face with it as well. Mike sighed, shaking his head as he looked at her with sad eyes.

“I just- I got into it pretty badly with my boss at work and got criticized, I felt like a wounded animal, like I had to fight. I’m so used to having to fight that I don’t know how to shut up and listen,” he mumbled. “It was so bad, Y/N, and I got written up after that awful day I had this morning… I just.. I don’t know. I do know I feel better now, and would feel even better if we cuddled for a bit and then went out for food?” he suggested, spilling his thoughts to you. You giggled, nodding your head as you reached up to press a kiss to him. You dragged him into your shared bedroom, the two of you cuddling up together under the blankets. You turned to your side, your eyes locked with his.

“I love you, Mike, so much. And I’m so, so unbelievably proud of you. Thank you, for always making me feel good too, for taking care of me, for being such a good brother to Abby, just… thank you,” you said softly. Mike looked back at you lovingly, his appreciation for you apparent.

“I love you, princess, you don’t even know how much,” he mumbled. His eyes were heavy. He leaned over and set an alarm for an hour from now, the two of you planning on a night of dinner out and grocery shopping. He curled his arm around you lazily, your body limp and exhausted against his as you yawned.

“Oh, and baby?” he asked. You hummed, lifting your head to meet his eyes. “Wear a crop top when we go out, I want everyone to see you all marked up.” You giggled as you laid your head down, drifting off to sleep.

When you two went out, you did just that, wearing a cropped scoop neck shirt with a low-rise flowy skirt. He showed off any marks you’d left, too, your possessive boyfriend holding you close anytime someone’s eyes linger too long. Mike was strange, possessive, and sometimes a little of what most would say was unsettling, but to you, he was the love of your life, the man who made you feel good, the one who fucked you until you couldn’t think. You loved him, and you always would, blessing you with a lifelong supply of angry sex and aftercare cuddles.

#josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt imagine #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson imagine #mike schmidt smut #olderbf!mike

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psychemochanight · 6 months ago

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Dick being neurodivergent, because why not? (Am I projecting myself onto my hyperfixation character of the moment? Absolutely).

Dick finds the weirdest possible positions to be absolutely comfortable. We already talked about how he likes to hang upside down, but besides that, he's always sitting in a strange way.

Bruce doesn't have any opinion on any of this, but sometimes wonders if Dick is trying to give himself some kind of cramp. The others just wonder if the boy has actual bones.

Bruce thought Dick couldn't be a picky eater, but he's totally wrong. Alfred taught Dick to cook because he knows that if he depended solely on food prepared by other people, the boy would starve. (Worse is when they discover that if they don't remind him, this guy won't eat at all. He just totally forgets that humans need food).

He also taught him other things for sensory issues that he doesn't want to acknowledge. (Yes, there are ways to keep his sheets soft enough, to prevent his shirts from getting lint, even cleaning the slab so it doesn't have weird textures).

Bruce always purposely gave him more work than he needed to do, otherwise he would never get the boy to concentrate. Nothing too difficult, he didn't want to overburden him yet, but seriously, even if he liked math, he would never sit down for more than 10 minutes to do his homework. Organizing his tasks didn't always work, but a deadline? It was his best strategy. Even out of ten minutes, eight were just him thinking about something else and only two to complete the job, he would complete it anyway.

(He never gives him the same task twice in a row. God knows that will never be complete. Have you seen how many jobs this man has? He can't stay in one place for more than a few months).

His thoughts also jump from one situation to another as much as he jumps on rooftops when he is on patrol. Bruce never understands his line of thinking, but it is extremely helpful in solving cases.

Despite appearing extroverted, Dick was still more of an ambivert, sometimes even seeming more introverted, he's just not that shy. His social battery runs out pretty quickly, even if he pretends it doesn't. He still needs time to himself in order to move on, and as a child his best way of pointing this out to Bruce was by hiding under tables in a dark place, or instead, climb to the highest places, farthest from people. Bruce learned that although Dick was used to the noise of people, he was used to seeing it from above, not in the middle of the crowd.

It's not that he's non-verbal, but there are still days where just talking is a no-no. As a child he had better control, but as an adult he just doesn't want to talk, and he's not going to talk.

Weighted blankets? Yes please. Noise cancelling headphones? He would love to, but he is too paranoid to completely isolate himself from his surroundings. (If his friends notice that his leg is bouncing more than usual, they assure him that they will keep watch and ask him to wear his headphones for a while, if they need to talk to him they use sign language).

He also has blackout curtains. And we all know his comfort object is a stuffed elephant, come on. (I love the fandom for this idea. Give the guy his stuffed elephant, give him Zitka.)

Yes, Dick, people have hobbies, but normal people don't change hobbies after mastering them once, much less change them every three days. No, gymnastics is no longer your hobby at this point, it's literally your life.

A special interest falls short when you spent a week without sleep to continue researching your new hyperfixation.

#dick grayson #nightwing #nightwing headcanons #dick grayson headcanon #dick grayson has adhd #he's probably autistic as well #batfam headcanons #headcanon #i'm projecting #bruce wayne #batman #dc comics #just my thoughts about dick grayson

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kookochan · 6 months ago

Text

End Of Time

They were dancing under the rain, knowing it wouldn't last forever. Memories were collected and hearts were stolen. Maybe it was never about the rain.

Summary: What if an exchange student changes your whole life, and you're scared of the day he needs to turn back? +18

exchange student jungkook x fem!reader

drabbles

warnings/content: violence (slap), mention of blood, sexual content (loss of virginity, unprotected sex - don't be stupid!), family issues, alcohol, angst, fluffy love TT

wc: 17,3k

˚₊✩‧₊2024˚₊✩‧₊

"We are really happy to have you guys here. The atmosphere in the team is also awesome!"

The interviewer has a soft smile while saying so. They have been sitting here for only ten minutes, and more than half of the time is already over. Her eyes turn to the more introverted person in the room.

"Jungkook, you are one of the best players this season. We talked about your career a lot, but you're the only one who isn't sharing his personal life. Like a relationship, for example. Or your first love!"

"Firstly, thank you for the compliment. And yeah, first love and all that-" he says with a polite smile. His mind is going back to a time when he met you for the first time. "I like to keep things in my own little world. That's why I'm not sharing a lot about it."

Jungkook is praying that the interviewer wouldn't ask any further questions. Today he is lucky, and the topic changes; all the attention goes to someone else. He is safe, and for a moment he is thinking back to the old times.

˚₊✩‧₊2014˚₊✩‧₊

It was a Monday, and you hate the first day of the week. Today should be a little better than the other days because some of the new exchange students were coming. The teacher gave you the job to assist them on the first day. Her reasoning: You were the class representative. You don't know how you managed to be one, but you liked your job.

"Yn"

You turn around to see which of your annoying friends was calling for you, only to be met with Tae. "What do you want?! It's not even 9 a.m. Let me live!" You say annoyed that he caught you that early.

"Calm down, dude. I saw some of the exchange students already. Some of the ladies said one of them is hot. We're lucky to be with them on the first day. Do you have a plan for the day?" He informs you while walking to the class. You don't know how he managed to get all this information. He is always the last one to come to school. It looks like he is excited about the whole situation. You don't want to lie; you are also curious about the newbies. They will be in your class for only 6 months, but maybe you will have a chance to make new friends. The exchange students from last year were two girls who just came to bully others, so it was no fun. But this time it sounds like some of them are also good-looking? You need to check on that.

"Hmm, it would be a lie when I say I planned something. Isn't it too strict anyway? Let's just show them the school and eat together. That should be enough for the first day," you say while thinking of other options just in case he isn't agreeing with you. You turn to Tae to see if he has anything to say, but he just nods. "And did you really come here that early to get all the information?"

"Nah, I forgot my book and needed to do the homework. So I came a little earlier today. I can already feel the missing 2 hours of sleep," he makes a crying face. You roll your eyes and laugh. "Did you see Jiho or Jia?". "Nope."

—

"It's getting awkward standing here and waiting for them," Jia says with an annoyed noise. The whole class was waiting for the home teacher to come and introduce the new students. But the whole process was taking longer than expected.

After fifteen minutes, you could hear the teacher coming while talking to the students. She didn't introduce them but started talking about important things and the school. Your eyes wander to the two boys standing next to her. And yes, you do know who the girls were calling hot. You could feel his charm, and now the whole situation is more fun for you.

—

Jungkook is happy to be with you and your friend group. At first he was scared if he could make new friends, and if not, he would be depressed for six months. You guys were hanging out during the school day and sometimes after that. He is also happy that Eun could find friends. For him, Eun is also a nice friend, but he knows that they're opposite personalities. Anyway, the first four weeks were comfortable for him, so he hopes that the rest of the time will be like that too.

It was early in the morning, and he was walking to school. Looking around, he notices that you're walking to the subway station. He runs towards you. "Good morning. Caught you!". You jump a little, holding your chest. "Why are you coming like that?!" you point a finger at him. He only laughs at your cute attitude. "Oh, come on, why are you acting like you saw a monster or something? That breaks my heart," he says dramatically. You roll your eyes. "We are getting late, so hurry up!". You can see his pout when you make faster steps.

He is fast getting into the tram, and he is holding a seat for you too. You sit between him and the window—the seat he was reserving for you. He smiles and looks around. "Are you coming today? Tae asked to hang out near the beach and grab some beer in the group chat. I didn't see your reply."

"Oh, I saw the messages in the morning, so I couldn't reply. But yes, I am in."

"Okay, that's nice to hear!" he says while smiling. No, he doesn't know why he gets so giddy when you're around. He is throwing away all the complicated thoughts. He only knows you for like four weeks. He needs to calm down.

—

The school day was kind of stressful. You got your test results, way lower than expected. You did learn weeks before, and you were confident that you could make it. Okay, it would be a lie to say you would nail it because math is not your strongest subject. Knowing nothing will ever help you understand it makes you feel down. Now you're walking with your friends and Jungkook to the convenience store to grab some snacks and drinks. It feels suffocating; you would rather go home and, you don't know, learn more?

Jungkook can see the little cloud above your head, so he walks a little faster to get to you. You are in your own little bubble, not seeing him looking at you. He taps your head to gain your attention. "We are going to chill and not to a funeral." You stick out your tongue. "I thought it was your funeral. How lame". He tries not to laugh, but it just works for two seconds. "No, seriously, what's the matter?". You shrug. "Just math. I really am too stupid to understand that shit."

"Come on, man, you act like you need to be perfect! It's okay to fail one subject, and I can also help you a little. Tae asked me too, so we could make a learning group." He suggests kindly. You think about it a little, and then you simply nod. Now his smile goes even wider; you watch him for a while.

"Oh my God, finally we're here! I thought we would never make it!" says Tae while breathing like he did six marathons. You break the short eye contact with Jungkook and turn to your friends. "You are so dramatic. And don't get thousands of snacks like last time; we need to walk a little to the beach. I will let you carry them!" You just watch him run into the store without listening. Jungkook laughs about that and follows the others. Sometimes you can't believe how they are older than you. Okay, 1 year is not a big gap, but anyway.

After a little shopping tour and two more arguments with Tae, you are walking to the beach. The sun is slowly going down, and you like the vibe. You are lucky that no one had the energy to go that far on the beach, so it is quite enjoyable. Sitting down, you open up the beer, thinking about life. Everyone else looked also deep in thought. Maybe sometimes this is the best way to sort out your mind. When the sunset is almost over, Jiho sighed. "It's getting depressing. Let's go swim." Yeah, funny you thought, never ever. Of course, all the boys jump for the idea and are running towards the water. Your eyes linger a little longer on Jungkook's body. He is giving a show for real, the way he takes off his shirt and flexes his muscles.

Jungkook is aware of your gaze. For him, it's just a confirmation that you also do find him a little attractive. No? Is he delulu? Maybe! He enjoys the time playing in the water, but the wet jeans are giving him a hard time. After a quick check with the others, they come back to the spot where you and Jia were lying. Jungkook watches your figure, and he is wondering if you were asleep. He can't stop thinking about your emotions and the fact that a school subject is bothering you that much. Are you a perfectionist? You definitely don't look like one.

You could hear the movements next to you, so you open one eye to see what was happening. "Did you have fun?" you ask with a little smile on your face. "The water was a little cold, but besides that, it was fun. Do you want to go into the water too?" he asks while wiggling his eyebrows. You laugh at him, "No, it's too cold for that." His relaxed posture turns a little worried. "Are you cold?". You make a quick 'x' with your fingers.

"The boys and I are going to play basketball tomorrow in the late afternoon; do you want to come watch? Maybe we could go grab some lunch after," he suggests. Deep inside, he wants you to come, but you were taking a long time to answer. "Sure, why not? But I need to do some school stuff beforehand, so if I don't reach my goal, I will stay home." He rolls his eyes. "You need to go easier on yourself." You hum, and then you just watch the night sky. After a little hesitation, Jungkook lies next to you and watches the stars. It was comfortable.

You guys are sitting there for one more hour, and then you call it a night. Tae is the one who couldn't understand his limits with the alcohol, but it's nothing new. Jiho takes him home, and you bid goodbye to your friend Jia, who is living on the way to your house. Now you are alone, walking with Jungkook. There is a comfortable silence between you two. He is staying alone in a small apartment, but you know that there was a shorter route for him to go home. Anyway, it feels safer to have someone next to you, so you don't even ask him about it. When you reach your house, you turn fully to Jungkook. "Thank you for walking with me," you say. Jungkook acts surprised, "Naah, it's nothing. It's on my way home, so no big deal." You smile at that and wave him goodbye. He watches as you were walking the stairs. When he hears you entering the code and the closing door, he starts walking away.

The house is quiet. It looked like everyone was sleeping. And you are happy to finally get out of your shoes. Just in the moment where you open the shoe rack, you see your dad's shoes. You sigh. Yup, this will be a suffocating weekend; it is the only thing that you could think of. Walking to your room, you just pray that no one from your family, especially your dad, would bother you.

–

You are learning for like 5 hours, and you can feel the headache coming. Standing up, you walk to your bed and kneel down. A little box underneath is smiling at you, and you grab it. Going back to your desk, you open it to see all the sketches and drawings that you made. To free your mind, you used to paint something, and every time you're drawing, it feels like a dream. You wish you could become a famous artist who has done a lot of art. But deep down, you know the opinion of your parents. They were strict about your future. For them, you needed to become a doctor or a lawyer. Everything under that must be powerful as well, or you failed your whole life. Last time you had a conversation about going to an art school, you ended up with house arrest. That's also the reason why you need to hide everything related to that. With the knowledge that nobody is home, you start sketching.

You flinch with the phone ringing. The first reaction is hiding everything on your desk. You put everything in your box. After closing it, you put it back under your bed. The person who calls you cut the line. Getting your phone, you see that Jungkook was calling you. There is no way to explain the relief that you were feeling. Dropping on your knees, you almost cried. Why would you feel that way? How unfair it is that you have parents who are not supportive of you. The next thing you hear is something on your window. Turning your head, you scream in fear. Only to see Jungkook screaming too. You throw your phone on the bed and walk to the window, opening it. "What are you doing?!" you say while pulling him inside by his sleeve.

"Oh, hi pretty," he says with a grin. He can't be serious, right? You roll your eyes. "You scared me. Also, I have a door." He scoffs at you, "But it's not that dramatic! I'm here to go to the basketball game with you. You can't say no; I climbed up the window!". You look at him unimpressed. "I would also come with you when you just knocked on my door." He has a stupid smile on his face while saying, "So you would go everywhere with me without a doubt?"

You ignore his cheesy question and walk to your wardrobe. Opening it, you are thinking of what to wear. A black hoodie and some black jeans are a safe option. Jungkook is busy looking around your room. It was his first time being here. You had a minimalistic room with the colors of white, beige, and blue. Walking to the wall next to your desk, he looked at the pictures with your friends. "We never took a picture together. Let's do it today," he says. There was an old picture of you, and he takes a quick picture of it. 'Cute,' he thinks. Turning towards you, he sees that you are getting changed. He looks away; he didn't want to be a creep.

After changing, you both walk out of the house. The basketball court was not that far, so you agreed on walking. "Do you think I will win?" he asks. "I never saw you play, so it's hard to say. Tae is actually really good," you say. Jungkook laughs at you, "He lost all the games when we were playing. I'm just telling you so that you don't lose your bet." You think about it for a while: "Okay, I will trust you, but if I lose my money today, you owe me!". He just smiles. Is it normal for him to feel shy all of a sudden? He needs to win; there is no other option.

The match was almost over. Jungkook played with Jiho, and Tae asked a random dude to play with him, so it's fair. Unfortunately, it didn't change the results; they lost. Jia was the one taking a bet for him, so she cursed the shit out of him. While you run to Jungkook to celebrate his win. You both are holding each other's hands and spinning in circles. Yeah, you know you looked like two kids, but it was fun. "Omg, let's stop. I think I need to throw up," you scream at him. He stops immediately and laughs at you trying to balance. "I told you I would win!" he says. You smile at him. Wow, what is this feeling inside you?

All of you are sitting on the grass next to the court. The boys sipping water and Jia handing you the money she lost. You wave it a little in the air. The guy playing with Tae, Damien, stands up. "It was nice to meet you, but I need to go home. Maybe we could play someday again," he says while looking at everyone. "Yeah, sure, it was fun! Thank you for joining us," Tae says. Damien smiles at that and turns to you, "I would like to grab a coffee with you." You look up at him in confusion. He didn't expect an answer from you, so he gives you a piece of paper with his phone number on it. You take it with a little thank you. He walks away afterwards. Turning to your friends, you see Jungkook's eyes boring into your sides. The whole situation is forgotten as Jiho stands up and says, "Let's go eat. I will die".

Walking to the next ramen place, you notice how quiet Jungkook is. You poke his side. "What's wrong? You won a game, bro." Jungkook pouts at you and asks, "Why did you accept his number?". "I accept it from every guy because I'm too scared of their reaction when I don't accept it. Maybe they would curse me out or follow me home? So creepy," you say with a sincere tone. He looks into your eyes. "I'm sorry that you feel that way. So are you interested in meeting him?". He is playing with his lip piercing; why is he getting so nervous? "Nope, he was not my type," you say with a grin. "But why are you asking and sulking about it anyway? Wait, are you jealous?" you ask while laughing. Yup, he feels a burn on his face. You pinch his cheeks, "So cute." Jungkook wants to fall on his knees and cry. But he acts annoyed, saying, "Fuck off," and wishing you would never do that.

–

2 months later...

Your head is on the table. Jungkook, Tae, and you were learning at the cafe for over 6 hours. You understand more than before, but your head was seconds away from exploding. Tae is in better condition. "I told you to drink more soju. Look at me; I feel like a newborn," he says. You whine at that, "Shut up, please." Jungkook comes back to the table with a tray in his hand. He ordered some ramen and vegetables. Sitting next to you, he strokes your hair. "Come on, eat your food, and you will feel better," he says softly. You sit up looking at the food; you don't feel like eating. Until something is next to your mouth, you turn to Jungkook, who is holding broccoli in his chopsticks for you to eat. You pout and eat it. "Hmm, yummy, right?" he says in awe. You really liked it, so you nod while starting to eat. Turning to him, you see him eat with the same chopsticks that you ate from. That makes you smile. And of course he caught that.

Jungkook is happy that you finished your bowl. Now they are waiting for you to come back from the bathroom. He carefully packs some of your belongings into your bag. Tae is watching him the whole time. "I am worried about you," he says. Jungkook looks at him confused. "You know what I mean. Your feelings with Yn," says Tae while looking into his eyes. If there was a chance for Jungkook to flee, he would. But Tae didn't expect an answer or explanation. "I don't want you to get hurt. If you need to talk about it, I will listen," he simply says. Jungkook is shocked but also thankful that he gave him the option to open up or not. He returns Tae's smile.

"Why are you flirting?" you say, looking at both of them. Tae acts like putting a strand of hair behind his ear. "Oh my God, we will go on a date tomorrow!". You laugh, but the fact that Jungkook is too stunned to speak made it even funnier. Jungkook shakes his head and gives you your bag. "Come on, let's go." "Wait, why are you blushing?" you ask. That is the last straw for you and Tae to laugh like fools. Jungkook makes a quick 'tsk' before leaving. You are in tears.

Tae is the first one to get off the tram, bidding both of you a good night. You wave at him. Some minutes later, it is yours and Jungkook's turn to get off. While walking home, you intentionally bump into Jungkook's side. "Are you mad at my comment?" you ask. Jungkook chuckled at that. "No, all good. I know you were jealous," he says. "Woah, you're really delulu," you say dramatically. "Thank you for today, by the way. I did understand a lot. You're really good at explaining!" you add. He smiles and pokes your cheek. "No need to thank me. We can do it more often, but not that intensely. I thought you would die." You stick out your tongue.

"Omg, Jungkook! Look," you say, kneeling down. You start petting the black cat. It is fluffy and super soft. Jungkook takes a picture of you where you are petting the cat. "I want two cats when I move out!" you say, excited. He wants to cuddle with you and the cat. "So you're a cat person. How cute," he says, smiling. "Thank God this one has a home. Look, it has a collar," you say while turning to him. "Maybe it is on his way home," he thinks out loud. You stand up and watch the cat go. "It was so cute, I want to cry," you say, head hanging. He wants to remember this moment forever. Your interaction with the cat, your pout, and your small voice. If he were to die right now, he would be happy.

Walking up the stairs, you see Jungkook standing at the same spot. "Why aren't you going home?" you ask, looking down. "I will wait until you're inside," he says, shrugging. You wave at him for the last time before your door closes behind you. Jungkook walks in the direction of his house but changes his mind. Turning around, he is walking to the next supermarket.

It is suspiciously quiet in your house. After hanging your jacket and putting on your slippers, you walk towards your room. The TV is turned on, but nobody is sitting in front of it. You feel your heart beating faster when you see your open door. Trying to think positively about it, you walk in. Your room looks like a mess. Everything is shattered, and your mother is in a panic. "What is going on here?" you ask quietly. Only when your father turns around do you see your drawings in his hands. Your bag choosing his own fate by rolling down your arm. There are no words to say. Looking into his eyes, you can see the anger.

"What's all of this?" he asks while shouting. "I told you that I'm interested in art. I just sketch or paint when I need to relax," you try to reason. It will not help; they will never understand you. You don't know which part of your answer made him explode, but in seconds he starts ripping all of the papers. "How stupid of me to think that you grew up! Doing this shit instead of studying! Where are the other things? Tell me!" he screams and walks around the room. Your knees give up, and sitting on the floor, you start crying. Taking some pieces of your art while he is destroying everything in your room. Your eyes wander to the open door, your sister standing in the hall with a bowl full of cherries. She is enjoying this. "Look at your sister! She is working hard to get somewhere, and you! How can you be that stupid?" says your mother. Just as angry as your dad. You want to scream, to throw a tantrum, but everything cut off your air. How could this happen? Your dad comes up to you, forcing you to stand up. "You will tell me where all of your stuff is," he yells in your face. "I did nothing wrong," you sob. It's unfair, you want to say. But your head is like under water. Too many thoughts, but no voice. "How dare you talk back to me?" he asks. The next thing you could feel is a burn and pain in your cheek. He slapped you. You could feel the metallic taste in your mouth. For a second, everyone is shocked. But who would he be when he apologized? Instead, he grabs your arm and walks towards the door. "If you don't want to live with our rules, then you can go live elsewhere," he screams. The door shuts in front of your face.

You stand there for a while. Your mother or sister would open the door for you, right? But after minutes that felt like hours, you turn around. They will not open the door. Walking down the stairs, you feel empty. By the time it started raining, you looked down. You are wearing some slippers and have no jacket. In your hands are some pieces of paper that you called art. There is nothing in your mind; you just start walking. The rain is fast in soaking you wet. Near a park, you see a bench. No time to think about it more; you sit down. You look down at the pieces of paper and at the bloodstains caused by the rain that is rinsing your face. Empty was the definition of what you are feeling. The cold air makes it worse than it is. You pull your knees to your chest and bury your face on top of them. Crying felt more painful than before. Also, you are scared that some creep would come near, but you have no energy to move.

Jungkook hates his decision to go grab some things from the supermarket. He was at the supermarket, but not only there; he also made a stop at the bookstore. He bought two new books and was ready to gift you one. Walking back home, he curses at himself for not getting an umbrella. Near the park, he sees a girl sitting on a bench. He looks at her and wonders why she would be sitting in the rain with only a shirt and slippers. At the same time, you look up at the noise of footsteps. The last person you both expected to see was each other. Jungkook looks at your face; the first thing he notices is the cut in your lip. That was enough for him to run towards you. Kneeling down on the ground, he holds your face with both hands.

"What happened?" he asks while being consumed by angst. Your small hands hold his wrists. You couldn't answer his question; you are sobbing and shaking from the cold. He starts taking off his jacket and helps you put it on. "Do you want to go home?" he asks while stroking your hair. Jungkook never experienced something like that. He wants to kill everyone who was the reason for your situation. Also, he doesn't want to hurt you more, but he is scared. Scared of the reason you were in this situation. "I can't go home," you say, trying to wipe away your tears. "Let's go to my house," he asks. Unsure if he would scare you away. But you only nod. He turns around. "Piggyback," he says, and waits. You position yourself, and he stands up to walk to his house.

After a quick walk, he gets into the house. Letting you down carefully, he walks to his room to get you some dry clothes. When he comes back, you already start changing. You smile at his oversized black shirt and sleeping shorts. Getting the white socks, you start laughing. Jungkook turned to you while making tea. "You really wear toe socks?" you ask cutely. He smiled, "They're really comfortable!". It was weird wearing those, but you felt comfortable. He comes back with two cups, giving you one. "Thank you," you say, taking a sip. "I will go change quickly, okay?" he asks. You nod, drinking from your tea. You feel warmed up, but you know that you will have a cold tomorrow. Jungkook comes back wearing similar clothes as you. He smiles at you and gives you a blanket. Leaving once again to get the first aid kit.

Hugging the blanket, you turn to him. "I had an argument with my family," you say. He sits next to you, listening carefully. "You know, I wanted to go to an art school. I love drawing and everything about art. My family was against it. They want me to become something high. Don't ask me why they think being an artist is low or bad. Anyway, the first time we had that argument, like two years ago, I had house arrest. And yes, I am stubborn, and I didn't stop drawing. Today they found my box with all the sketches. My father turned red. He ripped them into pieces, and when I told him that I hadn't made a mistake, he slapped me. Oh, and he threw me out. " You could feel a tear escaping from your eye. Jungkook is quick; he pads the tear away with a broken smile. "I mean, they are my family. Why can't they accept me with my interests and opinions? Is it that wrong to have dreams? I don't get it; I just want to be loved. Is that too much to ask for?" Your voice sounds whiny. You lean your head against the armrest and cry. "You don't need to question yourself. Of course, it is normal to have expectations of your parents. It's their fault if they're not supporting you. And I know maybe it's easier to say than to do, but you shouldn't give up on your dreams because of them. You're a person who can decide what to do with your own life," he says while playing with your hair. You turn your head to look at him. "Thank you for being with me. I really appreciate it." He smiles at that. "No need to thank me. I will always support you." You sigh and say, "Jungkook, you're leaving in three months. It makes me more sad." Jungkook doesn't want to think about it. "Come here. Let's clean your wound first and then blow-dry your hair," he just says. He is gentle while cleaning your wound, and he also helps you blow-dry your hair.

"Do you feel a little better?" he asks, watching the way you look around. You hum, "I like your home! You put a lot of effort into it." Jungkook smiles at your voice. "Thank you," he says. You come back to him, sitting next to him. Awfully cute, he thinks. You know it will make everything more complicated, but you cuddled up to him and closed your eyes. He welcomes you into his arms. Playing with your hair to make you fall asleep. He couldn't help thinking about your family. It makes him so angry to know that they were treating you like that. He wished he could protect you from everyone.

–

The next morning feels worse than the last night. A headache is bothering you, and you are freezing. You get up from your lying position, looking around. Last night you fell asleep on the couch, and now you're lying on the bed. Jungkook is nowhere to be seen. Standing up, you walk to the living room, which also has the kitchen built in. Opening the door, you can smell some delicious food. Jungkook is cooking something and looks really serious in the process.

"Good morning," you say, pouting at your own voice. Jungkook smiles at you, "Good morning. You did catch a cold, right? Poor baby, come here; I cooked some soup." You walk to the table and sit down. "It's so cold," you say while holding the bowl he was giving you. He sits in front of you. "I hope the soup will warm you up a bit," he adds. For the record, the soup looks delicious and smells like a dream. Without a doubt, you eat it up.

"They asked about us in the group chat, and I told them that you're sick," he says after eating up as well. Only now do you realize that your phone is in your bag at home. Also, it was Monday. Monday is a school day. Your mouth hangs open now. "Oh my god, I totally forgot about school. Why are you here? You should go," you say, frowning. He simply looks at you disgustingly. "You really thought I would leave like this?". You shrug. Jungkook stands up to clean the table and starts to hum a song. That is a good moment for you to go to the bathroom and wash up. Peeking out of the bathroom, you ask him, "Is it okay for you when I take a quick shower?". He turns to look at you. "Yes, of course. In the closet, you can find some fresh towels."

After a quick shower, you come out to find him lying on the couch. You lay down, your head next to his stomach. Thinking about what you want to do. You can't stay here forever; your family will look for you. "I will go home later," you say quietly. He is watching you the whole time. "Are you sure? You can stay here as long as you want," he says, stopping his hand to find your hair. "Thank you for letting me stay. But I need to talk to them someday. Maybe I can move out?" You look up in his direction. "Yeah, maybe that's the best for you and your family. Maybe you need some time alone without them. But are you really going to change your dreams?" he asks hesitantly. "I don't know. I want to become an artist so bad," you say, feeling the urge to cry. "Look, my parents want me to become something important too. But I want to be a basketball player. I will do everything to make it," he says, smiling. "You sit up and show your pinky finger. "Let's make a promise. I will become an artist, and you will be a professional basketball player." He shows his pinky finger too and says, "Promise." So you make a pinky promise. He wants to hold your hand forever.

The knocking on the door made both of your heads look in the direction. Your fingers are no longer in a hug. "Aaah, I forgot to tell you that the others wanted to come over. After hearing that you're sick," Jungkook says while smiling with his teeth, He stands up to open the door, and the first one running in is Tae. "Yn, I missed you so much! Are you feeling better?" he asks you right away. You laugh at his words. "I missed you too! And yes, I feel a lot better." Jia puts some snacks on the table, and Jiho's eyes are going between you and Jungkook. "Jiho, no need to look like that. It's not just me having a cold. I had an argument with my parents," you say, knowing he would state some stupid shit. All of them sit down to listen to you.

After telling them the whole story without the part when your father slapped you because you're too embarrassed, they looked sad and angry at the same time. "Girl, you're really talented, and I don't think you should give up because of them," Jia says. Jiho and Tae quickly agree. "You can talk to them, and if they don't listen, their loss. We can organize a small apartment to live in." Tae suggests. "I don't know about that. I want to move out, but no money, dude," you say, trying to be realistic. "We can be roommates if you want. Those dorms will let us in, right?" Jia says hopefully. You nod. "You're right; we could try that. But don't feel like you need to do that. I can move in with some random girl." Jia rolls her eyes. "Come on, you know I hate living with my brothers. I was thinking about moving out too." You give her a flying kiss. "You know we can send your dad sketches as a letter," Tae says, like he had the best idea in the world. All of you started laughing. "He would kill us," you say while laughing. "Thank you for being my friends," you say after a while. Is it normal that Jungkook is hearing the word 'friends' echoed?

–

Jungkook is walking you home. He wished you could stay a little longer, but he knows that you need to talk to them. Back at Jungkook's place, you guys did some research about a dorm and the chances of a room in the middle of the school year. Luck was never on your side. The next free room was at the end of the year. So you wanted to talk to your parents about it and spend the rest of the school year at home until you can move to the dorm. In front of your house, Jungkook turns to you and says, "If anything happens, you just need to look out of your window. I will wait here a bit." You don't know what to say. He is caring a lot for you, and you don't know what to think about the meaning behind it. It's just that you feel special when he talks to you. "Thank you. I will inform you about everything. Don't worry!" you say while walking up the stairs. Jungkook walks over to stand under your window. He would burn the house down if your father tried to hurt you again.

You knock on the door, already hearing some steps. The door is opened by your sister. "So you came back," she says, trying to provoke you. The funniest girl, you thought. You walk in, knowing your parents would sit in the living room. Your mother is the first one to notice your presence. "There you are! I know you would come and apologize to your father," she says, a little too happy. You can't control your laughter. "No, I'm not here to apologize, mother. I just came back because I live here. And I don't want to live like you want me to. If you don't like my decisions and dreams, it's your problem. I can live with the fact that you will never support me. If you want, you can act like I died and whatever. I will move out at the end of the school year anyway and will live for my dreams."

The room is silent for a while. Your father turns to you and says, "I knew you would never become someone big. It was my fault for not seeing how stupid you are. Do whatever you want! At the end, you will come and beg me to help you out. And on that day I will laugh in your face. Just wait for it. Oh, and I will count the days until you're out of this house. You can go find a husband or a dorm; I don't care anymore," he says, venom in his voice. He really thinks he won? It is a win for you.

Turning back to your room, you look out of your window. Jungkook is standing there with a straight face. You quickly grab your phone from your bag and take a picture.

YN: Someone is watching me -.-

You see him looking around.

Kook: There is no one?

YN: [picture send] Looook :(

Jungkook looks up.

Kook: Omg, he is so good-looking 😍

You laugh at that.

YN: Jokes aside, I'm good. You can go home🙂‍↕️

Kook: Want to talk about it?

YN: Let's Facetime while u walk home

You quickly call him on FaceTime. Letting him stay on your desk while you try to fix your room. You tell him everything you and your father said. "I'm proud of you that you told him right away," he says while watching you move around. "Thanks. Can you see my room? It's such a mess. What was his intention, man?" you ask him while standing in the middle of it. Not knowing where to start. He is actually sad seeing your room in that condition. The last time he came, it was calming. "Yeah, I can help you tomorrow if you want," he suggests. "Nah, no need; I will throw away the stuff," you say. He watches you throw a lot of stuff into a plastic bag the same size as you.

Jungkook is already home, but you are in the flow of cleaning up, so he starts to clean up too. When both of you are done, it is already 2 am. You lay down on your bed with your phone. It didn't last long until you fell asleep. Jungkook comes back to his phone after realizing that you're not answering. He sees you sleeping and smiles. Okay, he takes a screenshot. Wishing you a good night, he hung up.

–

2 months later...

The time passed quickly. Now there are only four weeks left until Jungkook is returning home. You spent all day together, sometimes just the two of you, other times with your friends. Not only Tae, but all of your friends could see that Jungkook had obvious feelings for you. You were good at hiding what you felt.

It is almost 11 p.m., and you are working on your sketch. To be honest, you have been working on this one for weeks. You want to give it to Jungkook as a gift. It was a portrait of him wearing his favorite basketball team's jersey. The number '97' on the front side. The cozy mood in your room shifted when you heard your phone ringing. You sigh and pick up. "What do you want, Tae?". "Yn, could you come and pick us up? We are soooo full of drinks that it is cra-," he says while burping at the end. "Who are we?" you ask. You could hear the music in the back.

"Me and Jungkook silly," he says, laughing. Did you hear him right? Jungkook never told you about going out tonight. "Send me your location," you say, not waiting for a response. You hang up. You change into a pair of jeans and a tight black top. Getting your purse, you walk out of the house. Walking to the next taxi point, you check out the location. Fortunately, it was not that far away.

You step out of the car and walk into the location. It is a really crowded bar. You should wear something else and dance a little. Walking through the people with a small 'excuse me,' you give your best looking for them. In one corner, you see both of them with pretty girls around. Oh, okay, someone has fun; you thought watching Jungkook. He feels a burning stare on his face and immediately turns in your direction. You never saw him that drunk. He is waving at you with puppy eyes and a big smile. For a minute, you feel like a sky full of stars. You walk to them to stand in front of the table. Tapping your feet on the floor, you say, "What is going on here?" Tae gets scared and stops talking to the girl next to him. "It was so boring without you," Jungkook says, trying to reach your hand. Cute, you thought. The girls are not that happy about your arrival. You turn to one of them. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need to take them home." Surprisingly, she is kind and left with the other girls. "And you both! Follow me," you say, trying to look dangerous. You walk to the door, and after looking over your shoulder, you see that they are following you with their heads down. Oh, you totally feel like their mother.

Outside, you look at both of them. "Let's wait here for a taxi," you say. Then you decide to bring both of them to a wall on which they could lean. They are drunk as fuck. And of course there are no taxis around. You sigh in annoyance. "Can you both walk? There is no taxi; all are full. Maybe we could grab a coffee somewhere and go with a bus?" you suggest. "I'm fine; let's go," Jungkook says with a smirk. You want to rip that out of his face because you're melting. You stand in the middle of both, Tae holding one of your arms and Jungkook acting like he is totally fine. You guys start to walk down the street.

After ten minutes, you see an open cafe. You turn to Jungkook, "I will grab some coffee. Stay here with Tae, okay? You guys can also sit down on the sidewalk," you say. He nods his head, watching you walk in. "Look at those; they are laughing at us," Tae says while looking at a group of men. Jungkook looks in their direction. The group of men stopped talking and turned fully to them. "What are you looking at?" one of them says. "You're laughing at us!" Tae says. All of the men start laughing. "Come on, stupid boy, turn around. Your ugly face is giving me a hard time," another man says. "Who are you calling ugly?" Jungkook says, walking in the direction. At this moment, you walk out with two coffee cups in your hand. You are shocked to see that some of the men are walking towards Jungkook and that Jungkook and Tae are walking to the men. "You little shit, I will fuck you up," the man says. That is a clear signal for you to cut in.

"I'm so sorry, please stop this," you say while walking to Tae. Jungkook gives you a side eye. Not liking the fact that you apologized. "Go to the side, lady, if you don't want to get hurt," the shorter man says. "Who are you to talk to her like that?" Tae says. Jungkook was ready to throw a punch. You watch all the men standing there. There are five people, and you would count Jungkook and Tae as one person due to the fact that they were drunk. Without thinking much, you throw both of the coffee cups in the direction of the men. A loud gasp is heard from them. The coffee was hot. You turn to Jungkook and Tae and scream, "Run!".

You never ran away like this. The group of men is hot on your tracks. You feel like passing out at any moment. The energy is leaving your body. Jungkook notices that and holds your hand to pull you with him. After a run into small alleys, you stop. They lost you. Jungkook leans on the wall. Tae is sitting on the floor, and you are holding your knees. All of you needed a moment to catch your breath. When you look at both of them, you start laughing. It is so loud that an old woman opened her window to yell at you. With that, you walk away.

On your way, you finally found a taxi. Firstly, you made a stop at Tae's house. You help him get inside. Returning to the taxi, you give Jungkook's address. He is leaning against the window with a big smile. You look at him in question. "Are you mad at me?" he asks. He stopped smiling and looked like he was seconds away from crying. "Why should I?" you ask back. "I didn't know that he wanted to go to a bar. I would tell you. You know that, right?" He reaches for your hand. Now he is playing with your fingers. "Don't worry, I know you would tell me. I was just a little shocked," you say while smiling at him.

The car stops in front of his house, so you head out and help him get into the house. He sits down on the couch, and you help him get out of his shoes. "Next time when you go to a bar, you shouldn't drink that much. You both did! What would you do if nobody could get you?" you scold him. "I swear I said just one glass, and then he said, don't be a pussycat; drink more," Jungkook says. You look at him annoyed, "Wow, so smart of you." After helping him take off his shirt, you ask, "What were you guys talking about with the girls?". He scrunches his nose and replies, "Nothing; they were bubbling. Why are you asking?". You hum and toss the clean shirt in his face. "Ouch!" he says, still catching it. "Oh, sorry, I thought you saw me throwing it," you say. "Noooo, you're jealous!" he says after putting the shirt on. He quickly changes his jeans into black jogging pants. "I'm not jealous," you say. "I don't believe you! Don't worry, baby, you will be my number one forever," he says while wiggling his eyebrows. "Oh, shut up. Come on, go do your nightly routine, and then go sleep," you say after tossing the clothes that he took off into the laundry basket. "But you will stay here, right?" he asks with puppy eyes. You nod and smile at him.

After his nightly routine, Jungkook went to bed and fell asleep in the same second his head touched the pillow. You watch him from the doorframe. A little sad about the fact that he is leaving soon. You wish he would stay forever. Also, you do know that you two had a different bond than with the others. But nothing precious like this lasts forever, right?

–

It was early in the morning, and you were standing in Jungkook's kitchen. You were never good at cooking, but today you want to top your own skills. Tasting the soup, you scrunch your face. Yeah, you should do a favor for everyone and never cook again. You add some seasoning to make it more tasty. It is weird to feel that much like it's your own home. The thought of this ending soon makes you sad.

You are in your thoughts when Jungkook comes out of his room, his feet sweeping the whole floor. You turn around and watch his tired face until he looks up to meet you. He immediately starts smiling, "I thought you left." You gasp, "I was cooking for you! Come eat some, and then you can take some painkillers," you add. Jungkook rushes to his chair and starts eating. "You don't want to eat?" he asks you. You just shook your head. "Nope, I will meet Jia later. We have a girls date." He nods. Watching him eat was enough for you to light up your mood.

"Why did Tae want to go to a bar?" you ask while cleaning the space you used for cooking. He is done with eating. "I don't know; he told me he felt like it," he answers. It would be a lie if he said that he is not scared of your opinion about him now. The last thing he wants is for you to get a false impression of him. You walk towards him and hand him the painkillers with a glass of water. He gives you a flying kiss and swallows. "I need to go now. You can rest a bit," you suggest. Jungkook looks at you with puppy eyes. "Have fun," he says. You waved at him and left the apartment.

After doing his morning routine, Jungkook sits down with a paper and a pen. If anyone were to tell him that he was going to write a letter, he would definitely laugh at that. But no, it was the truth. He was shy to say the thoughts he had in his head, and he was a better writer. So why not write a letter about his feelings? He starts writing, and it got longer than he expected. After some hours, he finishes writing and looks around. Of course he needed to rewrite the letter over and over again. So he stands up and throws the scattered papers away. On his way back, he gets an envelope to put his letter in. Will he ever be able to give it to you?

–

11:30 PM

Jungkook wakes up from his sleep. His phone is vibrating the whole time. He doesn't know when he fell asleep. Sitting up, he gets his phone and sees missed calls and messages from you. He feels nervous scrolling through the messages.

Yn: I think I'm in trouble?!?!?!

Yn: Could you maybe pick us up?

Yn: I guess you're asleep. Sorry for disturbing.

He didn't waste more time reading all of your messages; instead, he called you right away. It took you longer to answer, and he didn't even realize that he was holding his breath. "Omg, Jungkook?!" you ask, out of breath. "What happened? Are you okay? I fell asleep, so I didn't see your messages," he asks. You sigh and add, "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry. We got in trouble with some guys. We're at the hospital right now. But we're okay! Jiho is on the way." Jungkook stands up and walks to the door. "I'm coming," he says while rushing down the stairs. You could hear him running.

"Thank you for coming, Jiho," Jia says. You could see that she was tired. "Jiho, could you bring her home? I will walk; it's not that far," you ask him. "Is Jungkook coming?" he asks back. "Yes, he was on his way. I will walk with him; don't worry," you say and wave at them. At the same time, you see Jungkook rushing towards you. You try to smile because you know he would scold you a little.

"Omg, what happened?" he asks right away. "Good night to you too," you say, half joking. You pull him with you while walking home. "We just had an argument with some dudes. They were bullying a young boy, so we tried to help him. But they were a little drunk and started to push us. Then the police came out of nowhere, and we escaped without realizing that we didn't do anything wrong. That's it," you say nonchalantly. He looks at you in shock. "Did you get hurt? Why would you run away?!" he asks while checking up on you. "I just scratched my arm because I felt down. But it doesn't hurt anymore," you say, holding his wrist. "Yn! It's so dangerous to get into an argument with strangers. Why would you do that?!". "Oh, come on, Jungkook! I just wanted to help that poor boy!" you say, scoffing. He looks at you like, 'Oh, really?' "You could call the police," he says. Yes, you could, but in that moment everything happened so fast that you forgot to think about it.

"Stop scolding me! I will never call you again," you say, getting mad at him. "Oh, come on! You know that I'm right. I'm just thinking about you. Show me your injury," he says a little softer. "I don't want to," you say, pouting at him. He starts stroking your hair. "Come on. I'm just worried about you, and I don't want you to get hurt." You give him a side eye. "Next time call me and I'll show them what it is to argue with you," he says, wiggling his eyebrows. It's his way of making you laugh by saying random things. You just want him to go on and see his limits. "I'm getting sad. Are you ignoring me for real? Did I say something wrong? That wasn't my intention. I just got scared, and also I don't want to come to the hospital and see you in other conditions," he says, looking at his shoes. "I'm not mad! I just wanted to give you the silent treatment. I know that it was stupid to get into a fight with them. That was the last time. We were a little stupid, I promise," you say, patting his head. He immediately smiles up. It was nice to know someone cared for you.

–

School days are always boring and tiring. Today is exactly the same way. You and your friends are sitting in the school cafeteria because of the one lesson where the teacher was sick and you guys had study time for your own. You are drinking mango juice while taking notes for the next lesson. "Did you look for some colleges to go to after finals?" Jia asks. Tae scoffs at the question, "Why is everyone asking that? My parents also started talking about it, and I really feel nervous." You pat his back with a sad smile. "I'm interested in laws, maybe in that area something," Jiho says. To be honest, you are thinking about this question a lot because you know you have to deal with your parents. You had a lot of discussions with them, and you know their opinions will never change, but it felt like a big stone in front of your dreams. It's hard to go on a lonely journey without them, and you're scared that things will turn out differently than expected. Jungkook notices that you were deep in thought, so he slightly taps your arm. Turning towards him, you smile softly. "What about you? Art, is it right?" he asks and tilts his head, remembering the pinky promise. "I'm not sure about it," you answer honestly. The other three are deep in conversation, so it feels a little easier to open up. "What's that supposed to mean? I thought it was a big dream of yours," he says, looking a little confused. "Yeah, it is. But I'm not ready to deal with my family, I guess.".

"You know it's your life, and nobody should dig into it. Why would you give up your dream for them? I know they're family, but at the end of the day, you can try what you dream of." He is looking into your eyes with hope. "It's easy for you to say so, Jungkook. I've been dealing with them for over five years about this topic. It was not allowed to own things based on art. Do you really think they will be okay with it? I know I told them that I would move out and live my dream. But I don't know what if I'm the only one thinking it is worth it? Sometimes I overthink about it. At the end, my decision is my dream, but I'm also confused." you say with a straight face. "Look, I know what you mean, but if you go to that college, they will accept it at the end of the day, and you're thinking too much about it," he says. "No, they will not. They will wait for a moment to see me fall so that they can say we told you. And you know they would never offer me a helping hand. If I go for my dreams, I will lose them. And this doesn't even sound scary. I would be okay with that now, but will I be in the future?" you say while shaking your head. "Ah, come on, that's too dramatic. You need to take a risk sometimes. I also have the feeling that you're scared. Why don't you trust your skills?

Don't be a chicken and be scared of a new way!". He is scolding you for your words.

It is strange to feel hurt by that because he was trying to give you some courage. You also don't know why the next words come out like that. "Sorry that I'm scared to be alone and confused about my future. I wish my parents would be like yours, sending me to other cities and countries for my dreams. We are not on the same boat, Jungkook." His words feel like salt over a wound. How pathetic! You need to give up all your dreams for your parents, and other parents would give up everything to fulfill their children's dreams. Jungkook is stunned to say anything; it totally took him off. You gather your things and thoughts. "I need some books at the library; see you in class" are your last words before leaving. Jungkook watches you and turns to his friends, who are looking at him questioningly. "What happened?" Tae asks. "I think I crossed a line without realizing." He could feel a sting in his chest. It never was his intention to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable.

Jungkook wanted to talk to you again, but you were busy doing other stuff. Ignoring him till the end of the school day and also disappearing on the way home. For him, it feels like weight.

–

"Oh, come on, man, slow down," Tae says while trying to get the bottle in Jungkook's hand. "I texted her, and she didn't even respond to me. She will never talk to me again? Fuck, I never thought I would make her feel hurt," he responds. The boys met for a drinking session, and he was already tipsy.

"Bro, maybe she wanted to think it over before talking with you. She does that a lot. You know we had a lot of arguments, and she never ghosted me," Jiho says with a little smile. Jungkook finishes his glass full of soju. "I don't know," he says. He will try every chance to talk to you again, but he feels like shit knowing that he hurt you. "You can buy something really big for her birthday! It's on the weekend, remember?" Tae suggests. Jungkook freezes on his spot. "Her birthday?" he asks. "Yeah, on Saturday," Jiho answers. "She will not invite me to her birthday, right?" he cries out. Both men are shocked and watch his little tantrum. "I will go and talk to her," Jungkook says while getting up. Tae tries to stop him, but it isn't working. He is already on his way to you.

You are brushing your hair after a shower and also think about the conversation with Jungkook. Yeah, you totally overreacted because he never wanted to make you feel bad or anything like that. You decide to talk to him tomorrow and tell him that you're a little sensitive and that you are sorry for the reaction. After finishing your nightly routine, you walk to your bed. At that moment, someone familiar opens the window and crawls in. You are so shocked that nothing comes out of your mouth, and you grab a pillow to throw it at him. Jungkook looks up to meet your eyes.

"Oh my god, are you crazy?!" you whisper at him. "Hi," he says with a lazy grin. "You are not answering my messages, so I needed to reach out," he adds. "I wanted to talk to you in person tomorrow, dummy," you answer. You walk to the door and lock it. Turning back, you sit down in front of him. "Look, I know I hurt you, but that was never my intention. I just wanted to help you make a decision. But I know it's not okay to say you're a chick. You're not! I should empathize more. I can understand if you don't want to talk to me, but give me a chance. Hmm, I will do everything you want! Maybe I could buy you so-" He starts talking, but you cut him off with your hand on his mouth. "I'm sorry I overreacted a little bit. You know I'm really sensitive with this topic because everything seems like a burden to me. But I never forget our pinky promise. Don't worry," you say and reach for his hand. He watches the way you are holding his hand and moving your thumb up and down. "No, I'm sorry. I wanted to make you feel better and feel supported, but it was the wrong way. I know how hard it is for you. How you're struggling with them. You feel little with them, right?" He is looking straight into your eyes. You could feel the tears threatening. "I feel lonely," you confess, and a little tear escapes your eye. He is quick enough to catch your tear with his fingers. "I will be here for you," he says. "You're leaving soon," you reply. "I love you," he says with a smile. "You're drunk" is the only thing you could say. "Maybe! But my feelings will not change because of alcohol," he whispers. Maybe it was like a promise. It wasn't easy to hold onto that because knowing that all of this will end soon made you feel sick.

For a moment you want to hold the time and forget everything else. You lean forward to kiss him. He caught that quick and also leaned in. Kissing him felt like a new wave of hope. He is holding your cheek to deepen. After some seconds, you pull away to catch your breath. Jungkook smiles at you and kisses your cheek. "Come on, drink first, and after that, we can sleep on my bed," you say while standing up. Jungkook sits down on the bed waiting for you. On your desk is a cup of water that you hand him. He drinks all of it while looking at you. It makes you nervous, and you couldn't hold your laugh. "You're cute when you're drunk," you say. He pouts at you, "Just when I'm drunk?". You help him lay down and take your own spot. Jungkook pulls you into his arms and starts stroking your hair. Tonight, after a long time, is the first time that you fell asleep right away. And your sleep was actually good.

–

The next morning came fast. You are the first one to open your eyes, watching him in his peaceful sleep. You start playing with his soft hair. If there was a chance of a wish for you, you would wish for him to stay with you. But you're not selfish enough to ask him to stay. Would he consider that anyway? You watch him open his eyes and look around before finding yours. He smiles at you lazily and brushes one strand of hair behind your ear. His movements are soft, and you want more.

"Did you sleep well?" you ask him while sitting up. He is holding your hand and nods. "I would like to offer you breakfast, but if my parents see you, we are both dead," you say. Jungkook finally sits up and pats your head. "All good. I will wait for you on the bench so we can go to school." You nod and stand up to go to the bathroom. He didn't want to let go of your hand, but he gave up soon. After finishing your routine, it was Jungkook's turn. You start to change your clothes when Jungkook finishes his job. He froze on his spot when he caught you without your sleeping shorts. It didn't take him long to turn around and quickly say, "Sorry." You laugh at that and try to hide your red cheeks that you got. When you're done, Jungkook escapes from the window, and you prepare two sandwiches for the way.

As promised, he is waiting on the bench with a big smile. "Here, I made you a sandwich," you say while offering. He takes a bite without taking it from you. You watch his face getting angry. Yep, that is a good sign. Then he takes it from your hand and starts eating.

–

It was Thursday, and Jungkook was five seconds away from getting on his knees to cry. Tae is holding his arm because he knows what will happen when Jungkook stops you. For the record, it was after school, and everyone wanted to go on a shopping trip, but without you. The reason was obvious: your birthday presents. And of course you asked them if they wanted to grab a boba with you. They needed to make some weird excuses, and your face changed into a sad expression. As you walked away while saying, "Okay, I will go alone and see you tomorrow," Jungkook was ready to call you back. Jia turns to the men standing next to her and says, "I will go with her. I bought my present a long time ago." She is rushing to get to you. "Calm down, dude. She will understand," Tae says to Jungkook. So the men club walks to the nearest shopping mall. Tae and Jiho are deep in thought about the perfect gift. Jungkook knows what he wants to buy.

"Where were you, man?" Tae asks after Jungkook came. "I bought the present," he answers. "Dude, I thought we were going to look together. That's unfair," Jiho says while pouting. "I knew what I wanted to buy, so it was easy. Now I can help you guys," he says. Tae waves with the bag in his hand and says, "We already bought something." The three of them went to the food court and ate. Jungkook is sitting with his phone in his hand, waiting for your response.

Kook: What are you doing??

sent

Tae and Jiho shared a knowing look. Both want to say something, but it is easier while they were practicing than now. "Are you feeling something towards yn?" Jiho asks. The question so heavy that also Tae choked on his drink. Jungkook looks up in confusion. "What do you mean?" he asks. "Come on, don't act stupid. You know what I mean. Just answer the question". All of them are quiet for a moment.

"I never felt something like this towards someone," he says after a while. Tae smiles at his words, "We can tell." Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. "I know it's unrealistic. I will leave soon. I don't know how I will turn back to my usual life and pretend like nothing happened here. I can't ask her to come with me, and I can't stay because I don't know if she is feeling the same way. Thinking about it makes me feel like dying slowly". Both men are listening to him with a sad expression. "Every end can be a part of a start. Just because you're leaving doesn't mean it will end. You can go to a college in the same city or nearby. Meet up every other day. It's all about communication, Jungkook. If both of you want a future together, then it will work out. You both just need to make some efforts. You should find the answer to her feelings first," Tae says while tapping on Jungkook's shoulder.

Jungkook nods. "You think we could work?" he asks with teary eyes. "Of course. Love shouldn't be about a perfect plan. It will make it more passionate when you need to fight for it. Time will show you at the end if it's working. And if not, you will at least not regret anything," Tae answers. "Thank you, Tae. That was a big help for me," Jungkook says and wipes off his tears. A small sob is heard. Both of them are confused and turn to Jiho, who was crying. "I'm all whiny when it comes to love struggles," he says, struggling to speak. "I never saw Jiho like this," Tae says and starts laughing. Jungkook joined him and thanked God that he met friends like them.

–

You are sitting with Jia, sipping from your boba. Your mind was on someone else, yes, of course Jungkook. Why would he go without you? Now some scenarios going inside your head. How ridiculous to think about the worst cases; he is seeing someone. Jia senses that you were deep in thought. At the same time, she is checking the birthday group for pictures of the gifts that the boys are sending. Your phone vibrates, and that is a good thing for stopping your weird thoughts and a help to come back to this moment. Jungkook's message makes you smile; he was thinking about you. But who would you be if you answered right away? With a lighter heart, you start talking with your best friend and forget to reply.

–

Kook: Are you alive?!

sent

Kook: Are you ignoring me? TT

sent

He is seconds away from walking to your house and climbing up the window. It is enough for him to fuck up the plan and tell you everything about the present shopping just to clarify that he would love to go to the mall with you, and he would never say no to a boba date. He randomly stands up from his bed and picks up his jacket. If you're not answering, then he will get the answer face to face.

Yn: Why would I ignore you? o.o

Jungkook heard his phone vibrating and threw away the jacket in his hands. Jumping on the bed to lie back and answer quickly.

Kook: Idk... you didn't reply

Yn: Sorry, my battery died:(

Kook: nah it's okay now I know that everything is fine

Yn: yes! Good night 🫶🏼

Kook: good night <3

He needs to see you tomorrow to check if you're sulky at all.

–

You are walking to the classroom with a big smile on your face. This morning you decided to cook for yourself and Jungkook. Okay, you're not the best cook, but it tasted really good. Halfway through the hallway, you stop in your tracks. Is that Jungkook with the pretty girl from the other class? They are talking and laughing. You never saw them talk before, so it's hard to understand from where the closeness came. You watch them a little, and seeing her touching him the whole time makes you sick. The feeling is new in your heart, but you don't want to overthink it. Could it be that your weird scenarios from yesterday were true? Are they more than strangers? Bitter, you feel bitter.

Jungkook talks with Yuna about a school club. Explaining that he was gone next week, so he couldn't extend any of the clubs. He is talking to her for the first time, but he can feel that the girl in front of him wants to know more about him. The conversation is smooth, and he has fun. Until his eyes wander off to the back, and there you are standing. You look a little confused. His eyes meet yours, and that is a signal for you to walk away. Jungkook's face drops quickly, and he cuts the conversation off gently. Wishing her goodbye, he walks to the class.

By the time you are sitting at your desk and looking at something on your phone. The weather is perfect. Jungkook sits in front of you. "Good morning," he says. You didn't look up but answered quickly with a good morning. From the corner of your eyes, you could see him sulking. "Are you mad at me because of yesterday? Come on, I will tell you about it tomorrow!" he says. This is a big hint because tomorrow he wants to count down your birthday. "I'm not mad at you because of yesterday. I just thought we were close enough that you would tell me about the girls you're seeing," you say while putting your phone away. He opens his mouth to say something, but he is stunned. "I'm not seeing anyone. Why would you think that?" he asks. You start looking at him in disbelief. "The girl from earlier wants you. It was so clear," you say. He laughs at that and adds, "I don't care about that; I want someone else." Why is he wiggling with his eyebrows right now?!

"Anyway, I don't care. I cooked lunch for both of us, but now I don't want to share," you say with a pouting face. "Aw, don't lie. You care! And how cute of you to cook for me as well. Can we please share? I want to taste it," he says. You start glaring at him, but his cute face is no help. He starts playing with your fingers. "You know the day I came to your room a little drunk after our first fight?" he asks, not looking up. You nod. "I remember what I said. And I was honest about it". He looks into your eyes. You never answered, but that also never was his intention. He wanted to talk about his feelings, and he will wait until you can talk about yours. His words are enough to make you smile. "I like serious men," you say. "So you like me?" he asks. You look around the room; everyone was inside their own bubble. You come closer to kiss him on the cheek. "Answer your own question," you whisper. It feels like a dream.

At lunchtime you take out two lunch boxes. One in front of Jungkook and one in front of yourself. He opens it with sparkling eyes. "It looks so good, omg," he says. You also cut the vegetables in star shapes. He laughs at that and starts eating. You watch his expression, and seeing him angry was a good sign. Eating happily together is peace for both of you. "Do you have plans for tomorrow night?" he asks after finishing his food. "Hmm, no. Why?" you look at him. "Let's do something together and count down. On Saturday we could celebrate with the rest of the group," he suggests. "Okay, I'm in. What are we going to do? you ask. "It's a surprise," he answers, smiling.

–

It is Friday night, and you are getting ready to meet Jungkook. You decide to wear a black skirt and a cropped brown turtleneck. In front of the door, you wear your leather jacket, scarf, and black Converse. Of course you told your parents that you are going to Jia.

Walking down the street, you see Jungkook waiting. He looks hot with his hair done and an outfit that is matching yours. He sees you coming and waves. Only then did you see the red roses in his hand. That makes your heart skip a beat. "Hi," you say with a shy smile. "Hi, you look beautiful," he says and hands you the roses. "Thank you! They're so pretty, like you," you say while smiling like an idiot. "Come on, let's go. We only have 30 minutes. We will count down at home," he tells you the plan for the night.

After a quick walk, you could see the sea shining. The stars are beautiful, and you feel happy after a long time. "Actually, I wanted to eat the cake here with you, but then I decided to only watch the stars with you instead," he says. "You know that I love the night and the sea," you say. Now you were walking beside the water. It is calming to walk while listening to the water. "I think you were right. That girl from yesterday found me on Instagram and texted me," he suddenly shares. You look at him confused and ask, "What did she say?". "If I want to meet her," he replies. You frown at that. It is selfish to want him only for yourself because, yeah, he is hot, and every girl would want him. "Don't worry; I blocked her right away," he says after the pause. "Why would I worry?" you say, trying to hide the relief. "So you would be okay if I went out on a date with her?" he asks, surprised. "Slow down," you say faster than expected. Jungkook couldn't control his laugh. "Don't worry, baby, I'm all yours," he says, holding up both of his hands. You turn to him with an annoyed expression. "Stop teasing me." "Me? I would never. But you're pretty when you're jealous," he says and continues to laugh.

"You wish for a tragic death," you say while putting the roses behind you. Then you push him into the water. It is so sudden that he loses his balance and falls into the water. You start laughing at him. But you didn't expect him to pull you. It is not deep enough, but your clothes are wet anyway. Both of your laughs ringing in the air. Jungkook places his hands on your waist and starts to dance. Both of you lost in each other's eyes. When was the last time you felt this happy? He starts to sing a love song you never heard before, but you love it. After he finishes, it is a sign for you to move closer. His lips so dangerously close to yours. You start kissing him while your fingers make their way up to his hair on the back. He quickly matches your lip movements. Slipping his tongue inside your mouth. The moment is like an old romantic story. You break the kiss to catch a breath. Both of you are smiling happily. Until you splash water into his face. A second of silence before you grab your roses and start running in panic. He is so fast, "Yah! Don't run away!" he screams behind you. Now you know what to wish for when you blow out the candles.

You are getting inside Jungkook's apartment. He tells you to wait in the living room. You use the time to take off your jacket and put the flowers on the table. Because of your wet clothes, you sit down on the floor. Five minutes later, Jungkook comes back with a birthday cake. Your favorite, strawberry cheesecake. The lights of the candles a beautiful contrast on his skin. He starts singing happy birthday, and you couldn't resist hiding your face with your hands. He sits down in front of you, placing the cake on the table. "Come on, blow it off," he says. You close your eyes for a moment. Thinking of the perfect wish, him. Opening them, you blow out. He claps his hands and starts cutting the cake. You don't know why you want to cry right now. Feeling emotional about the whole situation. Tears pour down your face, and you hate yourself for ruining the moment. Jungkook looks up to give you the slice. "A big slice for the birthday prince—" he stops mid-sentence. You could see the worry in his face. "What happened?" he asks. "I don't want you to leave me," you say with a sob. Saying it out loud made it more painful. He would be gone next week. Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat. "I don't want to leave too," he says, reaching for your hand. You couldn't stop crying, and he comes next to you. Hugging you tight, you lean on his shoulder. "I'm sorry for ruining this now," you told him. "Yah come on. For me it's important what you feel. Never hide it from me, okay?" he says. You nod your head. His gentle fingers are wandering on your back.

Pulling away, you look into his eyes. He brushes your hair away. This time it is him who leans closer to kiss. It feels more intimate than at the beach. He pulls you into his lap while holding your waist. The kiss deepens, and you start to move on his lap a little. Feeling a heat between your legs. His hands sliding inside your cropped turtleneck. You break the kiss and look at him with lust. "Do you want to go on?" he asks with a low voice. Nodding your head, he stands up with you on his arms. He places you on the bed and gets off his shirt. You watch his body while he gets onto the bed and starts kissing your neck. "You're so pretty," he whispers. "Can I take this off?" he asks while his fingers pull at the turtleneck. "Yes," you say a little nervous. You help him get it off. His hands start discovering your body quickly. And the next, your skirt was gone. Lying between his legs, he starts placing kisses around your boobs and stomach. Playing with the hem of your panties, he looks into your eyes for confirmation. You nod quickly and brush his hair with your hand. He takes them off, and they find a place on the floor. "Fuck," he says and starts playing with your sensitive folds. Your moans fill the room. Jungkook is quick to start with his tongue. "You taste amazing, baby," he says. You start fisting his hair. It felt better than imagined. After some time you moan his name, "Oh my god. I think I- I'm coming," you say. "Come pretty girl," he says softly. It is enough for you to shake underneath him. He swallows you happily.

After coming down from your high, you open your eyes. He is watching you like you are the prettiest night sky. The next thing gone is your bra. His fingers and tongue playing with your boobs gently. You had enough courage now to start wandering your fingers on his chest. They quickly find his belt, which you open right away. He helps you take off his pants. Only in his boxers, he watches your body. In his eyes you were the most beautiful he ever saw. His fingers find your folds again. This time pushing in. You moaned at the sudden stretch. He adds one more finger and gently pushes and pulls out of your hole. When he thought it was enough, he pulled out and licked his fingers with a smile. You smile back at him and play with the hem of his boxers. He takes them off, and your eyes wander to his dick. Yeah, he definitely is big. "I need to tell you something," you say. He caresses your face and says, "Tell me, baby." "I never did this before. It's my first time," you whisper a little embarrassed. He smiles at that. "We can stop here if you want." You pout, "No, I want this." "Okay, we will do this together. It will hurt a little, but then you will feel amazing. Trust me?" he says, planting a kiss on your jaw. "I always trust you." "It's also the first time for me," Jungkook says. Now feeling more emotional. You smile at him. "Shit, I have no condom. I can go and buy some," he says, frustrated trying to get off. You stop him. "It's okay for me. I'm on the pill". He nods at that.

"Are you ready?" he asks while starting to stroke his dick. "Yes," you answer. One hand is holding yours, and the other one is guiding his dick to your entrance. He slowly pushes his tip in. "Relax, baby." Pain shoots up through your body as he pushes his length into you inch by inch. You moan his name, and he is kissing your neck while his free hand caresses your hips. With a final thrust, he is all nestled in. He waits for you to adjust to his size. You close your eyes, feeling tears filling. It feels stretched, and it burns a little. But feeling Jungkook's lips on your body makes it all better. "You can move," you say. That is a sign for him, so he starts to slowly pull back and push in. He moans at the sensation. Quickly finding a pace that is okay for both of you. It is more than fucking; it is making love. Your bodies and hearts were one. His room is filled with the sound of bodies and moans. The night is long until you shook underneath him, reaching your high. He soon after spilled his thick ropes of cum into you. Feeling it makes you moan into his lips. After controlling his breath, he slowly pulls out and watches his cum spilling out.

Jungkook helps you clean up, and you took a shower together. You are in his arms like a koala when you turn back to his room. Wearing one of his shirts. He sits you down on his desk with a kiss on top of your hair. Then he turns to the bed and starts changing his sheets. You see the little bloodstain on it. After unfolding the fresh sheets, you lay down. He hugs you tight. "I love you." You kiss his cheek as an answer to his words. Sleep was pulling you, and Jungkook was happy to watch you.

–

Jungkook is the first one to wake up. He enjoys the view and starts playing with your hair. His head full of questions, are you going to regret everything? Your eyes flutter open and meet his. You smile at him and move closer to warm up. He smiles at that and hugs you even more. "Good morning, baby," he says. You place a kiss on his neck. "Good morning. Do you want to know what I dreamed about?" you ask. He nods his head. "About the cake. I forgot to taste it," you say, pulling away. You jut out your lip while watching his movements. "You can eat all of it if you want. Come on," he says and stands up. Holding his hand, you walk to the living room. You sit down on the floor and start to eat. "Whoa, so tasty." Jungkook carefully watches you with a smile.

He suddenly stands up and walks back to the bedroom. Soon coming back with a box in his hand. "I forgot to give you your present," he says. Sliding the little box on the table towards you as a signal to open it. You look at him confused. Opening the box, you see matching silver rings with little diamonds around them. You start laughing, "Are you going to propose?". He rolls his eyes. "Marrying you is on my list, but it's too soon," he adds. "So romantic," you say while getting shy. You take out one of the rings and try it on your middle finger. With joy you show him it. "Now showing me a middle finger? Tsk," he says. You take out the other one, which is a little bit bigger than yours. "Which finger?" you ask. "Index," he answers. You slide it on his finger. He touches your hand. "It looks so cute." You take out your phone and take a picture of your hands. "I love it," you say with a big smile. "Thank you, Jungkook," you add after a little pause. "But I want you to wear it forever until I buy you a new one," he says. You nod at him, "Of course. But you too!". "I promise," he says.

After eating more cake, you started getting ready for the celebration with your friends. All of you rented a party room with karaoke and music. Dancing to party hits and singing your lungs out. Of course, alcohol wasn't missing. Tae forced you to play a drinking game. Both of you are already tipsy. Jungkook watched you the whole day, drinking fewer. When you called it a day, everyone started getting home.

You knew that your family wasn't home, so Jungkook helps you to get into your room. "I need to do my routine," you say and walk to the bathroom. He helps you get your makeup off and brush your teeth. Sitting on the bed, you wait for him to give you your pajamas. He helps you change and tucks you into bed. Patiently waiting for you to fall asleep. "Happy birthday," he whispers before leaving.

–

1 week later...

If you could stop the time, you would do it right now. It was one day before Jungkook returns home, and you felt more than sad. You talked a lot about this topic, but none of you had the courage to ask to stay or come. But you decided to stay in contact and go to a college that is near to meet. Why is it feeling like it will never happen and everything will end in this city?

When you arrive at the restaurant for the last dinner, you fight not to cry. It's your fault to have such a relationship with him while you knew he would be gone soon. You try to not think about it tonight. Walking inside, you can already see everyone sitting at the table. "I'm so sorry for being late," you say. "Nah, all good. I also came seconds before," Tae says. You sit down next to Jungkook (it was the only free chair). He smiles at you and you return it. Everyone starts to order food and drinks. After some time the table is full and you start eating.

"I can't believe that the time flew by so fast," Jiho says in disbelief. "Time is so crazy," Jia adds. You silently eat your pasta. Jungkook is worried about you. He can imagine what is happening inside your head. But he knows you will try to play it off tonight. Finishing your food, you start to sip from your wine. Tae gives Jungkook a little side eye, and you catch that. Perfect, your plan wasn't going anywhere. Everyone knows about my feelings, you think. It feels uncomfortable that every one of them looked at you from time to time. Oh, they want you to cry. The waiter quickly took the empty plates. You start eating the fruits and think of their story. The silence is killing you.

Tae waves a bag in front of Jungkook's face while he is busy looking at you. He turns to the bag in surprise. "That is a little gift from us all. I know we will see each other again, but I want you to remember us in this memory," Tae says. "Thank you so much. I really appreciate it," Jungkook says. He pulls out a box and opens it to see the black watch. "It's so pretty," he says and starts wearing it right away. Why is it so warm in here? You can feel your eyes getting watery. And at this second you start scolding yourself. It was the last dinner together, and you don't want him to remember it like a funeral.

"I remember the first day when we were waiting for the exchange students. You were standing next to the teacher like a proud little kid," you suddenly say and start to laugh. "Oh my god, yes! They acted like it's a big mystery," Jia adds, also laughing at the memory. Jungkook is happy to see you laughing. "I was nervous, okay? New city and new people. It's not that easy," he says to defend himself. "Ah, come on. There were already rumors that you are hot," Tae says. "Everybody wanted to see you," Jiho says with a grin. You could see his ears getting red. "Are you shy?" you ask him with a smile. "It's a little embarrassing," he answers with a pout. You laugh at that and poke his cheek. "Come on, I would feel like an idol if I were you," you say. He sticks his tongue out. The night goes on like that. Everyone telling a funny story and you feel the bonding.

Getting out of the restaurant, you start walking to the nearest station. Because of the sea, it was a lot windier, but it felt good. "Let's leave a memory of us behind," Jia says and kneels down. All of you walk towards her. She takes out a black pen that is thick enough to write on the ground. It was a little place on the floor full of names. She started writing the names. You smile at the heart she drew next to them. "We need to meet here in ten years," she says. You think about it; in ten years, where are you? What happened in your life? Are you in touch with Jungkook?

Like always, you bid goodbye to your friends. Now only you and Jungkook are walking together. "I will miss you," he says suddenly. It cuts through the silence and your heart. "I will miss you too," you say. "I never expected you to return my words, but do you have feelings for me?" he asks with soft eyes. You turn to him. "Do you think I would be like that without having feelings for you?". He nods, but you know that this is not what he is asking for. "I know that you want to hear the magic three words," you say and pause for a moment. "I will not say it to you," you add. He looks confused and asks, "Why?". "I'm scared that it will be the end of us. So I'm giving you something to wait for us," you say. His head now hanging low. When he decides to look up, you see tears streaming down his face. It is the last straw for your own tears. "This will never be the end of us, right?" he asks with a sparkle of hope. You shrug your shoulders and step closer to him. Hugging him tightly, you kiss his neck. His hands find their place on your waist. The time should stop now.

–

In the morning, all of you stand in front of Jungkook's house. It was time to go for him. He started saying goodbye to everyone. Standing in front of you, he hands you an envelope. "This is for you," he adds. You take it and smile at him. "If this is the end, will you come to my first gallery event?" you ask him. He smiles at that and answers, "I will. And will you come to my first match?". "I will," you say while wiping off your tear. He kisses you on the lips a little longer than planned. Turning around, he waves goodbye to all of you. "I will miss you," Tae says with teary eyes. "I will miss you too. Thank you for everything," Jungkook says before getting into the taxi. You watch the car drive away. Without saying anything, you walk back home. You realize that you never walked back alone from his house. This was reason enough to start crying.

Walking into your room, you lock the door. You sit down on the floor and look at the window. Can he crawl in? You look at the envelope. Why does it feel so suffocating? Opening it, you start reading the letter he left:

Dear Yn,

It's my second time writing a letter. And I needed a lot of tries to finish this one. My first letter was a confession about my feelings towards you, but I managed to say I love you. I wished I could tell you all of this, but I know that I will break down. If you're reading this, it means I'm on my way home. First of all, I want to thank you for everything. For every moment that you shared with me. I wish I could stay a little longer or promise you that this is a beginning. Maybe we will never see each other again, but never forget that these moments will always remain special to me. I will hold my promises, so please do it too. Live for your dreams and never give up, okay? If this is our end, I wish you a lovely future. A true love, someone who would stay with you no matter what. I hope you're not mad at me for leaving. I just know that it's unrealistic to say, Fuck everything; I will stay, or I will take you with me. Why are we so young? Anyway, I will always be there for you no matter what. Please call me if you need to. Never forget that I love you. I will wait for the day that you will say it back.

Your (I will always be yours)

Jungkook

Note: Please listen to the CD. I wrote the song and sang it for you.

You can't control your tears. It hurts so much that you want to cry until there are no more tears left. "I love you so much," you whisper. He was the only one who wanted your happiness. Not your family; it was him who supported your dreams. Of course your friends were also there for you. But he was special. Your first with a lot. With shaking hands, you take out the CD and put it in your CD player. Jungkook's soft voice starts playing. The song familiar to your ears. He sang it at the beach on your birthday. You cried yourself to sleep. Hoping he would be in your dreams.

–

˚₊✩‧₊2024˚₊✩‧₊

You are standing with a little group of people talking about your last works. It was your first gallery event, and you feel excited about it. More and more people come to look at your work. At the end you're happy about every single piece. You could see Tae, Jia, and Jiho standing at the table. Excusing yourself, you walk towards them. "Hiii! Thanks for coming," you say. "Everything looks so good," Tae says. You smile at him, "Thank you." "At the end it was worth it," Jia says with a smile. "Yeah, you're right," you answer. After talking a bit, you walk away to look at your own pieces and answer some questions. You stand longer at one piece, which is your favorite. You gave it the title 'end of time.' A beach at night, with two people dancing and a bucket of roses on the sand. It reminds you of your 19th birthday.

"This looks familiar," a voice says. You turn to him in disbelief. "You came," you say with a low voice. Jungkook smiles at you. "I promised." You return the smile and play with your ring that he gifted you ten years ago.

–

┊͙Epilogue - 2014┊͙

Jungkook is sitting on the train wiping his tears. He decides to listen to some music for distraction. Opening his travel bag, he finds a small bag. He doesn't remember putting this in his travel bag. He takes out the frame and starts smiling. It is a drawing of him with his favorite jersey on. Your signature on the right side. His tears start to flow again. He grabs the piece of paper and starts reading:

I hope you like it! Sorry for sneaking this in, but I wanted to surprise you. I know you're sad about the whole situation, but stop being so. I know that this will not be the end. How ridiculous it would be for two people who love each other to break contact just because they're not living next door! Right? I love you, but despite it, wait to hear it from me, okay? Now stop sulking and enjoy your ride back. <3

Today he is smiling for the first time thanks to you. You make him feel sad and happy at once. He is happy that he had the chance to get to know you and love you. And also being loved by you. He played all of his luck on this, and he regrets not a bit.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Thank you for reading! This is my first work, so I hope you enjoyed it. Also, English is not my first language, so excuse me for mistakes.

I love and hate open endings. Do you think they met at the gallery for the first time after ten years? Maybe I will write a part 2 about all the things that were left open. Depends on how many people are interested in reading this.

I would be happy if you could leave a review. Feel free to ask me questions or talk about anything (press the button in my bio)! Feel loved ♡

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