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cherry-coffees · 3 months ago

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On Thin Ice

academic rival!Caitlyn x reader

cw: 4.1K words | academic rivals/college AU, rivals to lovers, elements of girly girl!reader, Jayce/Caitlyn sibling dynamic, reader doesn't know how to skate, Cait teaches her, insane amounts of fluff

Part 1 | Part 3

As quickly as the autumn leaves change into winter snow, your relationship with Caitlyn Kiramman changes right along with it.

The wind grows colder and windowpanes frost over, but the coldness in your interactions lessens. Once academic rivals who couldn’t stand each other have become academic rivals who…kind of can?

It starts with the decline of insults at each other: the way her glares whenever you walk into a classroom turn into amicable glances, and how snippy comments turn into casual conversations. You still feel a sense of pride when you outscore her on a test, of course: the flare of competition still remains. Caitlyn’s pride, too, causes her to be just as smug when she outscores you in return. Both of you have worked too hard to let your motivation for the top grades dwindle. Though, while you once hated that about her, there seems to be some sort of mutual respect ever since the completion of your project together.

It’s never something either of you have acknowledged out loud. No. Not when you come into class one day, taking your usual seat beside her, and Caitlyn’s eyes flick to your bag. “I like your bag,” she comments, eyeing the puffy, white tote bag as you set it down next to your chair.

“Oh, um-" you’re not quite used to her compliments. Which, speaking of, have been steadily increasing over the past few weeks. “Thank you.”

Caitlyn merely nods, tapping her perfectly manicured fingernails against her laptop. “It suits you,” is all she says before the professor calls everyone’s attention, and you’re forced to focus on the notes you’re supposed to be taking.

Most days go something like this now. You’re not complaining: having one less thing to worry about in your already stressful classes is more than welcome. Though, the way Caitlyn’s gaze has gone from filling you with annoyance to making your stomach dip just the slightest bit is more than a little concerning.

One day, after an especially difficult history test, you’re a little dazed when you pack up your things to leave class. You’re an amazing student, always acing your tests and quizzes after a copious amount of studying and note-taking. But the questions on this one had been so out of nowhere, so unfairly challenging, that you hadn’t seen them coming.

You’re still reeling from the test when you’re barely out the door before a hand touches your shoulder from behind. You turn, expecting to see one of your friends, but your eyes widen when you see a flash of dark hair and icy blue eyes and realize that it’s Caitlyn.

“Hey,” Caitlyn hesitates, fidgeting with her own bag. “Uh, I know we never talk about tests, but…those questions were insane, right?”

You just blink at her for a moment. It’s true: the two of you never speak about tests unless it’s to gloat the higher score over the other. You’re academic rivals, after all: it’s not some friendly competition. Usually, neither of you can stand to admit you didn’t know something to the other.

But something about Caitlyn’s honesty — though unexpected — compels you to do the same. “Yeah,” you scratch at the hallway floor with the toe of your shoe. “I didn’t expect any of that; it was nothing like the study guide that we got last week.”

Caitlyn nods, the tension in her muscles seeming to loosen at your agreement. “Gods, yes,” she exhales in her accent that just screams her wealth from the rooftops. “I’m hoping I pass at the very least, and you know I’d never say that about anything.”

“Yeah,” a small smile tugs at your lips as you glance up at her. “I know.”

Caitlyn feels a slight pang in her chest. Whether it’s from the realization that (despite your rivalry) you actually do know her, or it’s the way your features actually look cute relaxed when you’re not glaring at her, she doesn’t know. All she knows is that when you start down the hallway, she finds herself falling into step beside you. Strange. Caitlyn Kiramman doesn’t follow anyone — especially her rivals.

Little does she know, a similar thought occurs to you as Caitlyn continues to talk about the test and you find yourself walking together. That’s already a weird realization on its own, let alone the thought that you actually like it. You quickly dismiss it with a subtle shake of your head.

If Caitlyn Kiramman holds a good conversation, then sue you.

“Right, well,” Caitlyn clears her throat as the both of you exit the building. “I’m headed back to my parents’. Good luck with your score, I suppose.”

“You too,” you bite the inside of your cheek. A few weeks prior, you’d have made some snarky comment about how Caitlyn can’t stay away from the wealthy lifestyle of her family for too long. But now, all you do is adjust your bag on your shoulder and offer her a small wave. “See you tomorrow, then.”

“See you,” Caitlyn murmurs, barely audible as you turn to head in the direction of your dorm. She stands there for a few moments longer, taking in the sight of how the light reflects off your hair, and how the wind tousles it, and how you draw your coat more tightly around yourself to brace the cold weather, and oh-

Caitlyn is so, completely, inevitably screwed.

|------» ~~~ «------|

“Okay,” Caitlyn huffs to herself, pacing back and forth across her luxurious bedroom at the Kiramman manor. “It’s not a big deal. She’s just my rival. I’ve talked to her so many times, what’s different about talking to her outside of school?”

She stops in front of her full-length mirror that stands against her wall. “Would you want to hang out sometime?” Caitlyn tries, facing her own reflection and speaking as if another person is actually standing there. Namely, you. “No, that’s too casual,” she shakes her head before trying again.

“Would you maybe want to study together sometime?” She makes another attempt, continuing to stare at her reflection as if it’ll somehow morph into you and answer back to her. Another shake of her head. “No, she’ll never want to study with her competition. Gods, I need to get it together.”

“Get what together?”

Caitlyn spins around to see her bedroom door ajar, Jayce’s head peeking in to witness her failed practice of talking to you. She must not have heard it open, too absorbed in her own thoughts. “Gods, Jayce,” she rolls her eyes. “I asked you here for a specific reason, not to scare me half to death.”

“Sorry,” Jayce grins, unapologetic as he moves across the room to join her. “You’re on edge today. What’s going on?”

“Well,” Caitlyn huffs, crossing her arms. “I just need some advice. Some, input on how I should talk to someone, if you will.”

Jayce’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh. This is about a girl.”

“It is not,” Caitlyn shoots back, almost indignant at his assumption. But when Jayce gives her a look as if to say be serious, she sighs in defeat. “Fine. It’s about a girl.”

“Well, it seems the Caitlyn Kiramman is in love.” Jayce’s smile is almost smug from having guessed correctly, but he softens slightly as Caitlyn’s eyebrows contort in frustration — mostly with herself. “What’s wrong, Cait? Why do you need my advice for some girl you like?”

“Because,” Caitlyn’s eyes flick to the floor, almost like a child embarrassed of a wrongdoing. “She’s my competitor. We were always fighting over our grades until a few weeks ago.”

“What changed?”

“Well, we were working on a project, and I realized she wasn’t nearly as insufferable as I made her out to be,” Caitlyn’s cheeks tinge with color. “That and she’s super pretty and smart, and she always calls me on my shit and—"

“She’s perfect, then?” Jayce comments with a flick of his hand, but it’s more of a question than a statement.

Caitlyn shifts uncomfortably, her usually confident tone is replaced with an unusually shy mumble of confession. “Basically.”

Jayce sighs, moving to stand behind her reflection in the mirror. “So, this girl’s your rival. If you want to ask her out, then why don’t you just challenge her to another competition?”

“Another competition,” Caitlyn repeats, her eyebrows furrowing in thought. “How is competing with her going to win her heart?”

Jayce places a hand on her shoulder: the epitome of the big brother figure he’s always been to the much younger Caitlyn. “You take things too seriously, Sprout. It’s not a competition you try to win; it’s something you use to get her interested, and then you just…have fun. Playful competition, you know what I mean?”

Caitlyn considers this, opting to plop down on her stool as she leans her chin on her palm in thought. “I suppose I could try it.”

Her thoughtful expression quickly changes into one of slight annoyance as Jayce ruffles her hair. “Less thinking, more doing.”

|------» ~~~ «------|

“A ninety?” You spit out the words with distaste, unable to help yourself from voicing them alone when you see the 90 at the top of your latest test.

Caitlyn glances over at you from her seat beside you. She holds back her usual glee at topping your score, and instead bites her lip to keep her 93 from tumbling out of her lips.

You don’t need her to, though. One look at her paper, and you’re already biting back a scowl. You cross your arms, leaning back in your seat and wearing an expression that Caitlyn can only describe as a pout.

Gods, did you have to be so impossibly cute?

“Listen,” Caitlyn clears her throat, shifting slightly in her seat to face you. You assume she’ll gloat over her superior quiz score as per usual, but her gaze flicks from your paper to your face. “We’re always competing over tests, and all we do is go back and forth. How about another competition?”

You narrow your eyes at her, wondering what she could possibly be plotting against you. “What are you suggesting?”

“Ice skating.”

You blink. You must not have heard her correctly. “…What?”

Caitlyn’s eyes widen, surprising even herself with how blunt that sounded. “Um, I mean,” she quickly tries to justify her idea, desperately putting the pieces together in her head as to not sound as lame as she feels. “You know, it’s winter, and there’s a rink not too far from campus. It’d be…convenient?”

“Okay.”

A moment passes, Caitlyn just staring at you in slight disbelief. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” you shrug. “Why not? I’d never back down from any challenge you throw at me. I hope you know that by now.”

“Oh, I— okay.” Caitlyn stumbles in her wording. She hadn’t been prepared for you to just agree like that. “Are you free Thursday night?”

You think about it for a moment, going over your schedule for the week in your mind. “Yeah, I should be. Meet at seven?”

“Sounds good. I’ll text you the address.” Caitlyn adjusts the strap of her bag on her shoulder as she stands to leave the classroom. She has your number from when you had worked on the project together, she remembers.

“Okay,” you mumble, staring down at your hands resting on the desk in front of you.

Why do you have plans with your rival on Thursday night?

Scratch that.

Why do you have plans to compete with your rival in ice skating when you’ve never skated before?

|------» ~~~ «------|

You arrive at the ice rink at seven exactly: right on time. You don’t have a plan for what you’re going to do, exactly, when Caitlyn finds out that you can’t skate. But you’re sort of trapped now, and your pride is far too high to call off any competition with your biggest rival.

Fake it ‘till you make it, or some shit.

Caitlyn’s already there, sitting casually on one of the benches outside the rink. Her dark hair is pulled into a ponytail that frames her face as she glances at her phone, and the thought briefly occurs to you that she looks so, distinctly pretty.

She hastily stands when you approach, clicking her phone off. “Hey-" Caitlyn starts, but the words die in her throat the second she lays eyes on you.

“Hi,” you give her a small smile. Caitlyn should respond, should usher you inside so she can go on about this competition that she secretly planned as a date, but she can’t. She can’t because you’re gorgeous.

You’re wearing a short, white skirt with a baby pink top and a white, fluffy coat. Your boots, leg warmers, and scarf are white to match, and gods you just look so soft. So soft, so cute, so bundled up and warm that Caitlyn wonders what it might be like to wrap you in her arms and—

She blinks as if to shake the thought out of her mind, awkwardly gesturing towards the entrance. “Should we go in?”

You nod, stepping forward to enter the rink. It’s outdoors, all pretty-looking with fairy lights strung up above the ice. Caitlyn holds the gate open for you, and you can’t help but note the height difference between you two. Gods, who had to make her 6’1”?

Once you’ve both entered the rink, Caitlyn claps her hands. She’s ever the efficient, assured Kiramman heir. “Okay, we should rent our skates, and then we can go-"

You tune her out after her first sentence, staring wide-eyed at the ice. Shit. You underestimated your ability to be able to fake being good at ice skating when you’ve never even put on skates before. “Yeah, yeah,” you mumble, not really hearing her. “Sure.”

You walk over to the stand with Caitlyn, renting two pairs of skates. You open your wallet to pull out your card, but Caitlyn just shakes her head, pushing your hand away. “Let me,” she assures as she swipes her own card and takes both pairs of skates from the worker.

“You don’t have to-" You start. You know Caitlyn has more than enough money to have anything she could ever want, but you still feel obligated to pay for your own.

She cuts you off, her icy blue eyes meeting yours. “Let me,” she repeats, this time slightly firmer: a tone that you can’t help but listen to. The way she’s looking at you, her eyes almost imploring, fills you with nerves you can’t quite identify.

Caitlyn’s leading you over to one of the benches moments later, and you mimic her movements as she laces up her skates. Her movements are easy; she’s done this before. Oh, you’re so screwed.

That much is obvious when you stand, your arms immediately flying out as you try to steady yourself, holding onto the gate that leads to the ice. Caitlyn easily slips through it, gliding onto the ice like she’s some kind of professional. She turns to face you, tilting her head in curiosity. “You coming?”

Well, fuck.

“I can’t do this,” you blurt out. Gods, you hate the way those words fall from your lips so easily. You never admit to not knowing anything in front of Caitlyn — not in this world in which you’re constantly trying to one-up each other in absolutely everything. But all you know now is that you can’t go on that ice.

Caitlyn furrows her eyebrows, skating back towards the gate where you’re standing. “What do you mean? Why can’t you skate?”

“I— I literally can’t, Caitlyn,” your gaze drops to the floor beneath you as you prepare for her onslaught of teasing. She had suggested this to you as a competition, after all. This is her automatic win.

But to your total shock, she does’t. “Hey,” Caitlyn murmurs, her voice softer than you’ve ever heard it before. “It’s okay. If you can’t skate, I can just teach you.”

Now you look up to meet her eyes, shock evident in your features. “What? But this was supposed to be a competition.”

Whoops. Caitlyn had forgotten about that little excuse Jayce had suggested she make to get you to agree to hang out with her. She brings one hand up to scratch at the back of her neck, almost sheepish. “Right. Well, it doesn’t have to be. I can teach you, and we can just…have fun. Is that okay?”

Something about her unexpected sweetness is just a little endearing to you, and so you nod up at her. “…Okay.”

Caitlyn reaches out to take your hands in her own, her hold surprisingly gentle. “Here, keep your eyes on me,” she instructs. “Don’t look down.”

You don’t say anything in response, just focusing on doing as she says. You keep your eyes locked on hers, and she does so in return. Holding her gaze yet again just makes the nervous butterflies from earlier return, and it’s so distracting that you almost don’t notice how she slowly guides you onto the ice.

Almost.

Your grip on her hands tightens, desperately fighting against your instinct to squeeze your eyes shut in fear. “What if I fall?” You choke out, and your eyes are so rounded and your lips are tugged into a pout — Caitlyn internally swears that you’ll be the death of her if you keep looking at her like this.

“Then I’ll catch you,” her thumb strokes over the back of your hand, and fuck, two rivals really shouldn’t be behaving like this, but you’re in too deep to pull away now.

That, and you really can’t pull away. Or you’ll fall.

Caitlyn guides you around the rink a few times, only picking up the pace when you’re slightly more comfortable with her movements. Your grip on her loosens little by little, and by your third lap around, you’re actually enjoying yourself. Whether that’s because you’re actually learning how to ice skate or because Caitlyn’s the one teaching you, well, that’s for you to know.

“Alright, I’m going to let you try on your own now,” Caitlyn gently moves her hands away from yours, but murmurs soft words that almost sound like she’s cooing at you when your expression becomes one of panic. “It’s okay, I won’t let you fall.”

You believe her, you really do. For once in your life, you trust that your rival will be here to catch you instead of rejoicing in your failure. So you take a deep breath and let yourself stand on your own. Your skating isn’t perfect — not even close. Your legs shake a little, and you have to hold out your arms for balance more than a few times, but you’re still doing it. You’re actually ice skating.

“I’m doing it,” your expression contorts into pure delight, your smile bright enough that Caitlyn can feel a warmth that feels like sunbeams warming her skin in the summer.

“You are,” she returns your smile, moving to skate alongside you. You stay like that for a while: her purposefully moving a bit more slowly to sync her pace with yours. It’s peaceful; almost bliss as you find yourself making conversation with her. You notice her accent more when she talks passionately about something, you realize.

After some time has passed, you’re getting a little tired of not being on your feet, so you attempt to slow yourself to a stop. Though, due to your inexperience, that doesn’t go very well. You’re not really sure how to stop yourself, so as Caitlyn comes to a stop in front of you, you just end up colliding with her. It’s not a hard collision since you’re not skating very quickly: more of a bump that knocks you straight against her chest.

“Um,” Caitlyn’s suddenly thankful that your head is below hers, and thus you can’t see her cheeks tinge with pink. She stumbles in her wording yet again, which she never does. Usually. Curse you for making her so flustered.

“Sorry,” the half-smile you flash up at her as you pull away is slightly abashed.

“It’s- it’s okay,” Caitlyn clears her throat, opening the gate and helping you off the ice. “You’re new to this, you know, it’s normal…” she trails off, scrambling for coherent thoughts. She doesn’t have any. The only thing her mind supplies her with was how warm and soft you felt against her, and it has her imagination wandering to how your body would feel snuggled into hers as you wake up together in her bed one morning.

Stop. Not helpful. She silently reprimands her own brain.

You wobble over to the bench you had previously sat on to lace up your skates — this time to unlace them. But before you can even lean down to start doing so, Caitlyn’s there in a flash, kneeling to tug at the laces. “Oh,” you start in surprise, eyes widening at her gesture.

“I’ve got it, don’t worry,” Caitlyn excuses, navy blue strands of hair falling from her ponytail and around her face as she works at undoing the laces. She’s done in a matter of moments, quick and efficient as per usual. You’d expect nothing less from Caitlyn Kiramman.

She undoes her own, but she still reaches out an arm to steady you as you stand on your own two feet again. “You feeling okay?” She asks as she moves to give the skates back to the renting kiosk. “Did you have fun? I didn’t push you too hard, did I?”

“No, no,” you reassure her, slipping your boots back on. “It was really fun, actually. I’m happy I learned how to skate.” And that you were the one who taught me, your mind supplies, but you don’t voice it aloud. None of these thoughts about your rival makes any sense. You’re supposed to hate her, compete with her — not get all flustered when she looks at you and imagine being wrapped in her arms and-

Oh.

Oh, shit.

You like her.

Luckily, or unluckily, Caitlyn interrupts your train of thought as she follows you out of the ice rink. “Here, let me buy you a hot chocolate,” she insists, desperately trying to come up with any ideas to make the night last a little longer. That’s what Jayce would tell her to do, anyways, and he’s really the only person she goes to for romantic advice.

“Oh,” your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. She just keeps surprising you. “Okay, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“It’s none at all,” Caitlyn responds immediately, already making a beeline for the little stand right outside of the ice rink. Minutes later, she’s passing you a paper cup filled with the warm drink, a few marshmallows bobbing at the top. She takes her own as well, and the two of you start the walk back to campus.

“You know, I’ve always wondered,” you voice after taking a sip from the cup in your hands. “Why do you have a dorm on campus? I mean, I feel like living in one of the biggest mansions in Piltover would be much nicer.”

“Ah, well, it’s easier to get to and from class-" Caitlyn starts, her usual excuse easily slipping out. But this time, she hesitates. Because it’s you, and even though you’ve been competing with each other for gods know how long, there’s been a shift ever since the project you worked on together. Scratch that: there’s been a shift tonight. The way you trusted her on the ice, admitted you couldn’t skate, let her guide and teach you because you trusted that she wouldn’t let you fall.

Something buried deep inside Caitlyn knows that she can be honest with you.

She exhales, her breath coming out as a visible puff in the cold, winter night. “It’s that. But it’s also…I need some space from my parents. My mother, especially. She wants me to follow in her footsteps, assume her seat in the council after she’s retired. I don’t want that; I don’t want some desk job. I want to be an enforcer to protect my city and its people.”

Caitlyn pauses, glancing sideways at you to meet your eyes. You’re listening attentively, actually hearing what she has to say without any teasing or judgement. “I don’t want power that’s handed to me. If I have power, I want to earn it, just like I want to earn the city’s trust that I can protect them. I want to build my own life, and I just couldn’t live at home while I’m trying to figure all this out. Not full time, at least.”

You’re quiet for a moment when she finishes. “Wow,” you mumble. “I never knew.”

“I never told you.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” you bite back a smile. “I guess I just never expected it. I teased you for wanting to be an enforcer, but I didn’t know you wanted it like this. I’m sorry.”

It’s the first genuine apology you’ve given to her for your biting remarks, and Caitlyn revels in it. Not for her own pride, but for what it signifies. Apologies mean doing things differently, mean moving forward in the relationship. Or, just maybe, moving forward into a different kind of relationship. “It’s alright,” she sighs. “I’ve teased you enough in return. I’m sorry for that as well.”

You wave her off, the cold air suddenly not bothering you so much compared to the warmth that’s spreading inside you. “Maybe it was good. It made me more motivated in my classes.”

“Yeah, me too,” Caitlyn laughs softly, and she avidly fights the urge to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. “You know, I didn’t tell you earlier, but you look really pretty tonight.”

“Oh,” you really hope she doesn’t notice the way your cheeks burn at the compliment. “Thank you.”

“No, like really,” her tone grows softer by the moment. “You’re really pretty.”

And it’s something about this. Something about this compliment feels like a subtle confession. All that Caitlyn’s done for you tonight: teaching you to skate, renting your skates, buying you hot chocolate, her compliments…it’s your turn, and you know it. So you do something.

You push away the anxieties flooding your mind, your hand reaching for hers. Caitlyn freezes at the touch, a slight jolt going through her body. Nevertheless, she responds in kind, her hold on your hand achingly gentle. Your fingers lace with hers.

Neither of you say anything for the next few minutes, content to walk with the physical contact. Your hands swing slightly between you as you walk, and it’s a little scary how happy that detail makes you when you notice it.

Unbeknownst to you, Caitlyn’s a little scared of how happy it makes her, too.

It’s almost disappointing when the campus buildings start to appear, and you’re in front of your dorm before you know it. Caitlyn lives just a few buildings over, but she stops in front of yours to say goodbye. Walking you to your dorm, ever the gentlewoman she strives to be.

“So, um, I’ll see you tomorrow?” She murmurs, turning to face you. It’s how the two of you usually say goodbye: with an acknowledgement that you’ll meet again in your shared class the next day.

But something about the way she’s looking at you: her eyes so blue and so kind, makes you hesitate. You’re lingering and you know it, trying to prolong this goodbye for fear of the spell between you breaking and everything going back to your normal academic rivalry in class tomorrow.

“Yeah,” you repeat her words. “Tomorrow.”

You can’t stop yourself before you’re stepping forward and wrapping your arms around her.

Caitlyn tenses just slightly before she completely melts into the contact, her arms coming up to encircle you. She hugs you close against her chest, and it just feels so right, like that’s where you’re meant to be. Maybe you are. She certainly wouldn’t mind it.

“Thank you for tonight,” your mumble, reluctantly stepping back to give her a shy smile.

“Of— of course,” Caitlyn’s breath catches, and once again, she has no idea how to respond to you. You drive her crazy, make her mind go all haywire when she’s been taught for all her life to be composed and proper. None of that seems to matter around you.

“Goodnight, Caitlyn,” you walk backwards towards the entrance of your dorm building, entering after one last smile.

Caitlyn stares in your direction long after you’re gone, almost wistful, missing you already and wishing she had the guts to just confess already, to make you hers.

“Goodnight, princess.”

I think this is my best writing yet >///<

Inspired by my desire for an ice skating date but also having never been ice skating so I don't know how to do it.

ANYWAYS! My university finals are over yayyy! I can write again! Missed you guys smmm and I hope you're doing well <3

~Cherry 🍒

#caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn x reader #arcane #cherry writes 🍒#caitlyn x you #fanfic #fanfiction #arcane fanfic #arcane fanfiction #lesbian #jayce talis #arcane fandom #caitlyn arcane #arcane caitlyn #caitlyn kiramman x reader #academic rivals #rivals to lovers #college au

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cece693 · 8 months ago

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Brooding Edward (Edward Cullen x M! Vampire Reader)

I got a comment some time ago asking for more Edward Cullen fics, so I came to deliver :) Hope you guys enjoy it.

Summary: You don't know when your dislike of Edward turned into adoration, but you did know that you didn't like how close he was getting with the human, Isabella Swan.

tags: scheming Edward, jealous reader, hater to lover, making out, Bella used as a pawn in Edward's plan, mentions of Bella x Edward

Forks was a dreary town, always dripping with rain and cloaked in mist, a far cry from the places I’d roamed over the centuries. I’d arrived here on a whim, seeking nothing more than a quiet place to blend in, disappear among the mundane, and watch as the world turned on without me. But I wasn’t completely alone here. There were others of my kind, tucked away in the dense forests.

The first time I laid eyes on Edward Cullen, I knew immediately what he was—beautiful, yes, but also cold and distant, a façade of perfection wrapped around a soul that seemed perpetually weighed down. We didn’t speak much at first, just acknowledged each other as predators passing in the same territory.

But the more I saw him, the more I realized how irritatingly complex he was.

He wasn’t like the others—his siblings, his parents—who seemed content with the life they had carved out here, blending in with humans, attending school like everything was perfectly normal. Edward. had this air of constant torment, like he was wrestling with demons none of us could see. It grated on me. The self-imposed suffering. The way he would sit in class, staring out the window like the weight of existence itself was crushing him.

I couldn’t stand it.

“Edward’s always been like that.” Alice once told me when I asked why her brother seemed more brooding than the rest of them. She smiled, almost fondly, as if his moodiness was something endearing, but I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

“You mean miserable?”

“He’s complicated.” she explained, and for some reason, that word irritated me even more.

Complicated. Right.

The more I was around him, the more I was drawn to observe his every movement, his every interaction. And it only made my disdain grow. Edward had this way of pulling people in without even trying—his impossibly good looks, the air of mystery that seemed to cling to him like fog, his quiet intelligence. Everyone wanted to know him, to understand him. But he kept everyone at arm’s length.

He was a contradiction—mysterious yet aloof, compassionate yet disconnected. And I couldn’t stop watching him.

It became a sick habit of mine, this strange fascination, though I told myself it was just that. I would catch glimpses of him in the halls at school, his expression always distant, as if he were somewhere else entirely. He rarely laughed or even smiled—everything seemed so goddamn serious to him. His siblings would joke around, ease into their lives here, but Edward? He remained on the outskirts, as though he couldn’t let himself relax, couldn’t let go of whatever it was that tormented him.

There was something maddening about it.

It wasn’t until Isabella Swan came into the picture that everything shifted.

She was new, fragile, and completely unaware of the supernatural undercurrent running through Forks. But Edward saw her. And it wasn’t just passing interest. I noticed it from the beginning—the way his gaze would linger on her in class, how his jaw would tense when she got too close to any of the other students, or how he disappeared for days after their first encounter, struggling to keep himself in check.

I remember the first time I heard them talking, watching from a distance, seated in the cafeteria among the other Cullens. Edward’s voice was soft but strained, his gaze locked on hers like she was the most precious thing in the world. The intensity in his eyes, the way his entire being seemed to revolve around this human—it was unsettling.

"She’s different." he told me once when I couldn’t stop myself from asking why he was so fascinated with her.

"Different?" I echoed, unable to keep the disbelief out of my voice. "She’s human, Edward. She’ll die in a blink of an eye. What happens then?" He said nothing, just stared off into the distance, as if the very idea caused him more pain than I could understand.

It was then that the slow burn of jealousy began to fester inside me, though I couldn’t name it at first. The fact that Edward, who seemed indifferent to everything, had suddenly fixated on this girl—this fragile, breakable human—made something inside me twist. I was used to seeing him as distant, untouchable, yet here he was letting his guard down for someone like her.

I wanted Edward’s gaze on me. His intensity. His focus. The realization hit me harder than I expected, and it wasn’t long before that jealousy bubbled over into anger.

One night, the tension reached a boiling point. Edward had just returned from dropping Bella off, his face drawn, like always, but with something else in his eyes that I couldn’t ignore. Satisfaction. The kind of satisfaction that came from spending time with her. The kind of satisfaction I wanted him to feel when he was with me.

“Isabella this, Isabella that.” I sneered, my voice cutting through the stillness of the forest. Edward stopped in his tracks, his expression hardening as he turned to face me.

“What’s your problem?” His tone was cold, guarded.

I stepped forward, closing the distance between us, my chest tight with the jealousy and frustration I’d been holding in for too long. “My problem is that you’re throwing everything away for her. And for what? She’s nothing special, Edward.”

His jaw clenched, his golden eyes flashing dangerously. “You don’t know her. You don’t understand.”

“Understand?” I laughed bitterly. “What’s there to understand? She’s human. You’re a vampire. End of story.”

“It’s not that simple,” Edward hissed, stepping closer, his presence looming. “It’s never been that simple.”

I stared him down, anger boiling over into something sharper. “You think I don’t see what’s happening here? You’re losing yourself in her. You’re forgetting who you are, what you are. She’s going to be your downfall.”

He glared at me, and I could see the storm brewing behind his eyes. His hand shot out, grabbing the front of my shirt, pulling me roughly against him. “You’re wrong.”

Before I could snap back, Edward’s lips collided with mine like a strike of lightning, fierce and demanding, with none of the hesitation I’d come to expect from him. The initial shock froze me for only a second, but then the fire that had been building inside me for so long erupted, and I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer, forcing the kiss deeper.

His body pressed hard against mine, the coldness of his skin a sharp contrast to the heat pulsing through me. This wasn’t like anything I’d imagined—there was no softness, no careful exploration—just raw, primal need. His lips left mine briefly, trailing down the line of my jaw, his breath cool against my skin as he whispered, “You think I’m hers?” His voice was low and dangerous. “I was never hers.”

I gripped his shoulders, shoving him back slightly, forcing his eyes to meet mine. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He smirked, that infuriating, knowing smirk that sent another wave of frustration and heat crashing through me. His eyes darkened, the gold-flecked with something more primal, more dangerous. “My relationship with Bella means nothing to me.”

I tried to shove him away again, but he held firm, his grip on me unyielding, his body pressing me back against the rough bark of the tree. “Bullshit,” I growled, but the anger in my voice was already fading, replaced by something I didn’t want to admit. “You’ve been obsessed with her—”

“Lies.” he interrupted, his lips hovering over mine, so close I could kiss him again if I leaned forward. “I needed her to push you, to make you feel what you’ve been ignoring for months.”

My mind reeled. “You’re saying this was all some kind of game?”

His smirk widened, but it wasn’t cruel—it was victorious. “Not a game. A plan.” His fingers trailed lightly over my collarbone, sending sparks through me, and I hated how easily he could get under my skin, how quickly he could break down the walls I’d built. “I’ve been waiting for you to realize it, to stop fighting me.”

“Fighting you? You never said a damn thing.”

“I didn’t need to. I knew you’d come to me eventually.”

The kiss that followed was harder, more desperate, and I couldn’t stop myself from pulling him closer, the fire that had been smoldering between us now raging out of control. His hands roamed over my body, each touch stoking the flames higher. I couldn’t think, his presence overwhelming every sense, every thought.

“I'm yours,” he growled against my lips, his voice rough and possessive. His hands slid under my shirt, cold fingers tracing over my skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Not hers.”

The words hit me like a punch, and I grabbed his face, pulling him back just enough to meet his gaze. “Say it again.”

His eyes bored into mine, that same victorious glint dancing in their depths. “I’m not hers. I’m yours.”

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englishisaboutconfidence · 5 days ago

Text

Mi Amor :Part 1 of Ahyeon knows best

You don't truly care about Ahyeon.

She's one of your sister's best friends so of course you care about her because of your sister, but you yourself don't truly care about her.

At least that's what you tell yourself…

It's your first semester at University and frankly, you are killing it. Okay, you might not be popular or doing extremely well in your classes, but you have found a great group of friends, and you are having a great time even if your sister is attending the same school as you. You and your sister Pharita were never the closest, but being the same age (you were adopted from Vietnam by her family when you were 10 months old, so this is the only family you have known) you two still had a very good relationship. The only problem you have, well not really a problem per say, is that her best friend Ahyeon is also student here and they lived together.

Throughout your childhood, it had been impossible not to notice Ahyeon. Whether it was at school because she was always the most popular while still doing well in her classes, or at home because she and your sister had been joined at the hip ever since they met in the 1st grade. Ahyeon, while extremely popular and smart, was also a very kind and down to earth person, so there was no logical reason for you to be annoyed at her; but nonetheless, she annoyed the hell out of you. She was always over at your house, hanging with your sister, even being over when your sister wasn't home. Your parents loved her and treated her like their third child, so whenever you complained about her to them, they would just laugh it off and say you were being overdramatic. But the thing was, you weren't being overdramatic, you literally couldn't spend more than hour without seeing her. You and her were always in the same class at school, even when Pharita was in another one. She was always at your house, even when Pharita was doing something else. She even would invade your room, take naps in your bed, and even forced you to keep a lounging chair next to your gaming setup so she could "watch". The only time you had a break from her was when she would go home, which some nights she didn't even sleep at since your parents insisted on giving her a bed in Pharita's room.

So yes, while you didn't have a real reason to be annoyed at her, her constant physical presence was enough of a reason in your eyes to be hold a grudge against her; so you didn't even need to mention the fact that another reason you were so annoyed by her was the fact that you could never get her out of your head…

You and Pharita had a mutually understanding that you were going to give each other some space while on campus so each of you could have a freshman experience without everyone grouping you together as siblings. You two said hi in passings or would approach each other if necessary; but it wouldn't be over the top. Unfortunately, this did not hold true with your relationship with Ahyeon. Unluckily, you two were both Economics majors and somehow were again in all of the same classes; and of course she insisted on sitting next you (even forcing you to sit with her when you came to class after her). Although she did spare you from any interactions aside from group projects and general chit chat during class or during group discussions.

Luckily, non of your friends shared your major or any classes with you, so you were able to dodge the "you know Ahyeon" discovery… for a while at least.

It was the Thursday before Fall Break, so you were hanging out with a few of your friends in your dorm when your dorm mate Niki walked in with one of the class mates who was paired up with for a group project.

"Hey guys, this is Theo from my Marketing class. Theo, these are my friends Sunghoon, Jinyoung. And Y/N. Y/N is also my dorm mate".

"It's nice to meet you all" Theo said. He then looked at you and said "Wait, do I know you? Are you in Principles of Mico Thursday morning block?".

"Yeah I am" you responded. "Dude, how did you get so close with Ahyeon? You two are always sitting together and are always partners in discussions and projects. Every other guy in our class has asked Ahyeon to partner with them but she always just tells them she already has one. I've also spoken with other Econ majors who share more classes with her and they told me that it's the same in every other class too."

"Wait you know Ahyeon???" your three friends practically screamed which only caused you to sigh in annoyance cause of course Ahyeon had to ruin your college experience as well.

Dude to her and Pharita's popular in high school, guys were always asking for your help in hopes of dating one of the two. And of course, the two of them had also rise to fame on your college campus as well due to their looks and intelligence, they were both seen as the complete package, so guys were lining up in hopes of dating them. Luckily, most guys hadn't realized your history with Ahyeon (or so you had thought) and most of them had the common sense to not ask the brother of the girl they were trying to get with for help.

"Yeah, I went to school with her and she is my sister's best friend"

Putting two and two together, "Wait your sister is Pharita???"

"Ugh, yep. And no I will not help any of you 'bag' her" You tiredly said.

Annoyed with their constant badgering, you eventually kicked them all out of your dorm even Niki who just worked on his project in the study room.

After a few hours, your friends stop bugging you about Ahyeon and Pharita and asked if you wanted to grab dinner at the dining hall. After grabbing some food and finding a place to sit, you were happily eating and chatting with your friends when a cheesecake was placed in front of you and you heard a chair pulled up next to you. Whoever sat next to you started to take forkfuls of the cheesecake, before being rebuffed by a familiar voice "Ahyeon! You aren't supposed to eat that yet, I need it to bribe my brother".

Looking to your right, you see Ahyeon stuffing her face with your cheesecake and behind her, your sister Pharita.

"Hey sis, what's up?"

"Mom and Dad want me to stay at the house this weekend and take care of Lucy (the family dog who was a gift for my sister when she was 14); but I want camping over the break, would you please watch her instead?"

"I don't want to go home over the break. I want to stay here and hang out with my friends" "Please Y/N, I'll owe you"

While you were mulling it over, Ahyeon stopped eating and spoke up "Oh shit, I forgot to tell you Pharita. I told your parents I could watch Lucy last night."

"Really Ahyeon, you don't want to go camping with the rest of the girls?"

"Yeah, I never liked camping and plus, now you owe me :)" Ahyeon said.

"Thanks, I appreciate you giving up your fall break." your sister happily responded.

"Of course, anything for my best friend. Although…" Ahyeon said while turning and giving you a quick smirk "your parents did say that they didn't want me to stay there all alone all break, so they are going to call and tell Y/N that he has to stay there too".

As she said that, your phone started to buzz and you picked up phone to see your Mom calling. You sent Ahyeon a quick glare before picking up the phone "Hey Mom" you said before hearing your her tell you exactly what Ahyeon said "Fine" you responded before hanging up. Glaring once again at Ahyeon, she responded with a raise of her fork, once again full of your cheesecake, "you should really eat this before its all gone Y/N". Like a child not willing to share their candy, you snatched the rest of the cheesecake from her.

With a look of victory, Ahyeon stood up and gave you a condescending pat on the head before saying leaving and saying "See you later"

You angrily ate what was remaining of the cheesecake while your friends started babbling about how lucky you were getting to spend a weekend alone with Jung Ahyeon.

A few hours later, your sister let you into her and Ahyeon's dorm before saying a quick thank you to Ahyeon and leaving for her camping trip, leaving you alone with Ahyeon once again while she grabbed a few things she needed for the weekend.

"Stop looking so grumpy Y/N, be happy, you get to spend a weekend with your puppy and a beautiful girl. What's better than that?" Ahyeon said while sporting a shit eating grin.

Being the mature adult you were, you eloquently responded with a quick "Blah Blah Blah".

"Don't worry, I just need one more thing and then we can head out" Ahyeon then starting to try to grab a hoodie that she had placed on the top shelf in her closet. Her attempts at grabbing the hoodie cause the bottom of her tank top to rise significantly which gave you a great view of her lower back as well as her ass which was framed perfectly by her leggings. You didn't realize how much of a trance you were in that when she had grabbed her hoodie and turned around, you didn't realize you were staring at her perfect abs and they were right in front of you and she had lifted your head to meet her eyes. "Eyes up here babe" She said before turning around and giving you another view of her ass while she walked to grab her bag while putting on her hoodie.

"Whatever" you grumbled

A 25 min Uber ride later, you and Ahyeon entered your house and were greeted by your Goldendoodle Lucy. After giving her the pets she deserved, you and Ahyeon went to put your bags down in your respective rooms… except when you entered your room, Ahyeon followed you instead of heading to her own designated room.

"Umm, what are you doing Ahyeon?"

"Nothing babe, just putting my stuff in our room"

"What do you mean our room?"

"God, you are such a jokester Y/N" Ahyeon said while she started to unpack her backpack and put her stuff in your drawers. Well, in the drawers should had stolen from you over the years. Here's the thing that nobody else saw, it was that Ahyeon had pretty much inserted herself into your life, stuff, and area from the second she entered your life. Your parents knew that Ahyeon kept clothes in your room and spent most of her time at your house in either yours or Pharita's room even when they gave her own. Oftentimes, she would even steal your bed from you and force you to share your bed with her… the nerve! Oh yeah, she also would fuck with your head by calling you all the pet names in the world… PLUS she would even purposely wear little to no clothes or thirst trap clothing around you and then make fun of you for checking her out. It's not your fault that you're a young man with raging hormones. Ahyeon was the worst and no one else would ever believe you about that.

Giving up, you go back down to the main floor and let Lucy would to use the rest room. After bringing her back inside and making sure she had enough water, you grabbed a few beers and a bottle of soju. You quickly took 2 shots of the soju to help you deal with the rest of the night before sitting down on the couch and flipping through Netflix. While you were browsing, Ahyeon had finished unpacking and came back down, once again only sporting her tight black leggings and a flimsy little pink tank top. Out of the corner of your eye, you see her start to approach the couch in her "casual" wear. You expect her to grab a seat at the end of the couch or even in the middle; but what you didn't expect was her standing in front of you with your eyes directly in line with her breasts barely covered by her tank top and no bra, since you could clearly make out her hardened nipples. Your mind went blank aside from the almost overpowering urge to take one into your mouth. You were knocked out of your daze when Ahyeon shoved you back against the couch before turning around (and giving you a great view of her ass) and plopping right down on your lap.

This caused your already slightly hardened cock to harden even more. You tried to adjust so that Ahyeon wouldn't feel your mounting erection; but every time you tried to move your cock away from her ass, Ahyeon shifted so that she was firmly planted on your hardened dick. "Ahyeon" you warned but she just ignored you and stole the remote and turning on The Office. She then leaned back and grabbed your arms so you were wrapped around her waist that was only partly covered by her shirt. Not liking how part of you was touching her directly and the other touching her shirt, Ahyeon moved your arms so they were both under her top and against her perfectly sculpted abs.

You two stayed like this for a few minutes, with your heart pounding 200 MPH. While you weren't a total stranger to these kind of situations with Ahyeon (she loved to sit on you or near you while watching TV even when your parents or sister were there too and she would force you to cuddle her when she stole your bed); but something about this was different. You don't know if it was the soju, your hormones, or maybe the fact that your friends had been grilling you about Ahyeon because as they said "she was the hottest piece of ass" at your school; but the feeling of her body and the strands of her hair slightly blocking your full view of her face, caused you to be unable to focus on anything but her. Ahyeon, of course, noticed this and turned to face you after you were staring a little too long.

"Y/N, I know I'm beautiful, but you should really focus more on the show"

She said before giving you a peck on your cheek. She had given you dozens of pecks on the cheek over the years and your normal response was to push her off of you and to scoff; but today for some reason, her act of affection (and not of mockery which you would later find out), only caused you to blush. Which of course she caught.

"Oh, Y/N, are you blushing because I kissed you on the cheek?"

"Pfft, of course not Ahyeon"

This only egged her on, so of course she turned around fully, so she was now straddling you and could clearly feel your arousal, while before you could at least pretend that she might not have felt it when facing the tv. This new position caused you to subconsciously move your arms from around her waist to her hips. She then leaned in so close to you that your lips were practically touching, before saying:

"Really, then lets see how you react to this" before capturing your lips with hers. Overwhelmed by the emotions you were feeling, you two were lost in the kiss for a good 30 seconds before you finally broke apart for some air while resting your foreheads together. You slowly went over every part of her face before finally meeting her eye to eye. Unsure of where it came from and with nothing left in your brain, you softly breathed out the words that you never thought you would say to Ahyeon "I Love you".

Realizing what you said, you quickly tried to find to mutter out an excuse for why you said that and that you didn't mean it and you don't know where the hell that came from; but before you could do so, Ahyeon once again captured your lips with hers and you quickly responded with equal fervor. After a few dozen seconds of mindlessly making out, you two once again broke apart. Before you could put your foot anymore in your mouth, Ahyeon quickly silenced you with a finger on your lips.

"I love you too Y/N. I have for a long time"

Completely baffled and confused by what you just heard, you asked her to repeat it.

"I love you Y/N"

"What do you mean you love me???"

"I mean that I love you, I want to marry you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and of course, I want to be the mother of your children"

"Wait, are you being serious Ahyeon because I swear to god if you are fucking with me"

Softly grabbing your chin and forcing you to stare at her straight in the eyes, Ahyeon slowly spoke "I love you Y/N. I always have and always will."

Still confused, you stupidly asked "So all the times you spent with me and all the times you forced me to cuddle or hold you or even kiss you for kissing practice, it's because you liked me and because you wanted to fuck with me?"

Softly laughing, Ahyeon responded "LOVE, not like. And partially yes and partially no on the fucking with you part. Of course, I want to spend time with you and being held by you; but it was also fun to make you think I was doing it to fuck with you. You know all is fair in love and war".

Seeing that you were still trying to wrap your head around everything, Ahyeon decided to give you clear push "Are you going to keep acting like I gave you a math problem 3 classes beyond your comprehension level or are you going to ask me to help with your little situation down there? I am your girlfriend after all"

"Huh" is all you could come up with in responds which only caused Ahyeon to giggle before standing up, grabbing your hand, and dragging you to your (and Her’s now too apparently) room. She then once again shoved you but this time you fell back onto your bed before she climbed on top and started to straddle you again. Knowing that you wouldn't be able to function without more answers, she decided to fill in some blanks for you that she knew you would be wondering about "I started liking you in the 5th grade and decided we would end up together in the 7th grade. You started to like me in the 6th grade, remember when we were at the waterpark and those boys kept annoying me and you came over to sit next to me while I was messing around with the tube, well that's when I knew that you liked me too. While you have always been a good guy, after that interaction, you always kept me in your line of sight when we were together and would always rest your eyes on me and I noticed that even if you didn't notice it yourself. Now for the dating part, we started dating our Junior year of high school when we went to get dinner just the two of us and your parents and sister were busy. Cool?" "Uh Huh" you intelligently responded.

"Perfect, now let's get down to business" Ahyeon responded before taking off her tank top to reveal her naked boobs adorned with the most beautiful pink areolas.

Once again caught staring and with no thoughts in your head, Ahyeon started to lose some bravado due to your lack of action and meekly said "Please Y/N"

Realizing how much of an asshole you were being and finally letting your brain turn off in a good way, you let your instincts take hold and you quickly captured one of her tits in your mouth and the other with your left hand. After given each of her tits the worship they deserved, you finally tore your head away her chest and quickly captured her lips with yours. While you two you were busy making out, you softly switched your positions so she was lying on the bed and you were above her. After a few more seconds of frantic kisses, you separated her and said the feeling that you hadn't realized had been present in your for so long and had shaped your life in such drastic ways

"I love you Ahyeon. I'm so sorry it has taken me so long to realize how much of a dumb ass I am; but I love you so much and I can't believe how blessed I am to have you in my life."

Her face filled with joy and eyes close to tears, Ahyeon happily responded "I love you too Y/N. And I am serious, I want you".

Hearing her reaffirmation of her feelings led you once again kissed her, this time while trying to take off her top. Wanting to spare you the struggle, Ahyeon separated you two and took off her tank top leaving you dazed and your attention ensnared by her naked breasts. Noticing your distraction, Ahyeon started to take off your shit which you absentmindedly helped her do while your main focus was still on those beautiful orbs hanging off her naked chest. Knowing you were still stun locked, Ahyeon moved your hands to her tits and started to dry hump you while making out. You quickly get the message and start groping her wonderful tits adorned with the most beautiful areolas you had ever seen. After a few minutes of mindless groping and kissing, you two finally separated. Seeing your lust filled eyes, Ahyeon stood up and grabbed your hand, pulling you up the stores and back into your bedroom, before shoving you onto your bed.

Falling backwards, your eyes naturally land once again on those perfect tear drops that Ahyeon called her tits.

"Eyes up here Y/N" Ahyeon said before slowly stripping her form fitting leggings.

Seeing what she was doing, your eyes once again wandered below her face, but this time went past her chest and found themselves landing on her naked pussy. Confused but not disappointed you asked Ahyeon "Ahyeon, were you not wearing any panties?". Seeing her shack her head, your dick throbbed even more.

"Y/N sweetie, if you are going to bury that cock of yours in this waiting pussy, you are going to need to take off those pants"

Hearing this, you got off the bed and quickly discarded your pants before grabbing Ahyeon and pulling her onto your bed so she was laying down now.

Softly grabbing her face, "are you sure about this Ahyeon?"

Giving you a quick peck, she responded "Of course baby, I've been waiting for this for a long time. Saving myself just for you".

Hearing her words of confirmation, you line your dick with her entrance and slowly pushed in, pausing for a bit when she would make a noise of discomfort, before slowing burying yourself to the hilt.

"Is it all in?"

"Yep"

"Okay you can start moving"

Hearing this, you slowly start to move inside of her. Pulling out almost completely before burying yourself in her once again. Once again lifting her face to meet yours, you giver her a soft kiss while thrusting in and out of her. After a few minutes of making love, you feel yourself start to lose control.

Sensing her release nearing as well, Ahyeon softly said "I'm close Y/N. Please Please. Fuck. Please come inside me. Show me how much you love me"

You quickly capture her lips in a bruising kiss and a few thrusts later, you feel her tighten around you and start to release her sweet nectar. The added tightening along with her legs wrapping around you to lock you in place, you lose your resolve and you start to feel yourself fill Ahyeon with rope after rope of your cum. The feeling of you spilling inside of her causes Ahyeon to have a second mini orgasm which causes you to empty every last ounce of your seed in her.

Feeling that you both were spent, you flipped you and Ahyeon over so now she was laying on top of you, you give her a few soft kisses before starting to pull out. Feeling you pull out, Ahyeon quickly wraps her legs around you again and forces you to bury your entire length in her once again.

"Don’t you dare fucking pull out Y/N. If you ever fully exit me tonight, I will make your life a living hell."

The mix of Ahyeon's threat along with the feeling of once again being fully inside of her causes your dick to twitch which of course she feels.

"See Y/N, even your body doesn't want to be separated. Or is it that I acted like a bit of a tsundere? I'm kidding baby… I know you like your women sweet but also cold as hell."

You simply respond with "I love you"

"I love you too baby. And after a quick rest, you are going to fuck me and give a few more loads to this needy little cunt. And when I mean fuck Y/N, I mean fucking me with the intent to fuck the ever living shit of me while marking me as yours. You're going to breed this pussy and give it so much of your spunk that it will be leaking for days. I don't want to be able to walk, okay?"

Being the normal person you are, you gave her a quick kiss on the lips before saying "I can't wait to marry you and see you as the mother of my kids"

Soft slapping your chest, Ahyeon said "Hey, you can't just respond with such a sweet statement".

"Oh I'm so sorry Ahyeon. Do you want me to talk about how many times I jerked off to a picture of you? Of how I can get off to just the sight of you in the simplest clothing? Or do you want me to talk about all the fantasies I have had of fucking you unconscious, of filling you with so much of my cum that its impossible for you to not get knocked up, of breeding you so that everyone knows you are mine?"

"That's better, so much better baby"

Whispering into her ear, you quietly tell her "Or should I talk about the fact that I've dreamed off spending nights with your pussy warming this cock before burying inside that tight little ass of yours. Of swapping between this cunt and this ass so many times I couldn't even remember where I was buried inside."

"Yes" she simply said while smirking.

"Good, because I intend on falling asleep every night for the rest of my life with you in my arms and my cock buried in your pussy"

Giving you quick peck, Ahyeon said "Your pussy. I am yours and you are mine."

Smiling, you pull her close and let sleep take hold of you.

A few hours later, you wake up disoriented and sore. You try to raise your right arm to swipe the sleep out of your eyes, but you are unable to raise it as Ahyeon has made sure to trap it between your bodies. Seeing her sleeping form, you suddenly remember all that happened last night, specifically how you fell asleep. Remembering that, you feel your cock start to harden which elicits a soft moan out of Ahyeon. You try to pull out of her warmth but her weight along with your body not really wanting for you to pull out causes you to reenter her fully after pulling out halfway. This causes Ahyeon to moan louder and for her to walls to squeeze you even tighter causing you also to release a quiet moan. You try to calm yourself but your body works against you and starts to softy thrust in and out of Ahyeon while she was still asleep. Eventually you succumb to your base desires and you flip Ahyeon and you over, while making sure to remain buried inside of her, before you start thrusting even faster. After a few minutes of fucking Ahyeon while she was asleep, you let your release take hold and you fill her cunt with her your seed once again. Feeling your seed fill her, Ahyeon's orgasm quickly follows yours accompanied by Ahyeon screaming your name.

Startled, you look down to see Ahyeon's smirking face "Were you really so horny Y/N that you fucked me while I was asleep"

"I I I" you start to stammer out before being cut off by Ahyeon

"Don't worry babe. I love the feeling of you filling me especially as a good morning present". Leaning in close, she whispered "I've had so many wet dreams where I woke up to you fucking the shit out of me and creampieing my little pussy". Before giving you a quick kiss and saying "now that we've had our morning fuck, carry me to the shower and we can experience shower sex for this first time too"

You get up and carry Ahyeon to the bathroom as fast possible, while making sure that your cock stays perfectly warm inside of Ahyeon's snatch. Turning on the shower, you begin to make out with Ahyeon against the class waiting for the water to warm up. After a few seconds, you bring you and Ahyeon inside the shower walls and under the stream of hot water. Seeing the water flow over her body, you start to harden inside of her once again. After giving her a few more quick kisses, you start to worship the rest of her upper body. Making sure to give the appropriate attention to her neck and even more to her teardrop shaped tits, giving both of them a few squeezes before capturing each of them with your mouth and sucking on her pink areolas like you were trying to get her milk. Knowing your love of her tits, Ahyeon had to pull you off of them and pull your face back up to hers before assaulting your mouth with hers. Remembering your main goal, you push her back against the wall before grabbing her ass (while she locks you in place with her legs) and quickly start burying yourself inside of her over and over again before eventually pushing her to her peak which was quickly followed by yours. After a few seconds of respite, you finally pull out of her after over 12hrs of being inside of her and you two quickly wash each other (with you giving extra attention both with your hands and mouth to her abs, ass, and of course pussy) before you both exit the showers and dry off. Not bothering to put on a towel, you both start to leave the bathroom before Ahyeon turns around and places a hand on your chest to stop you.

She slowly glides her body up against yours and whispers in your left ear "Don't forget what I said. This cock is mine and my cunt is yours" before grabbing your cock and giving it a few quick strokes to make it harden a bit and guiding it inside her. After a few seconds of recover and readjustment to the tightness and warmth, you smirk and respond to her with "Oh don't worry honey, I will make sure you remember who you belong to. before grabbing her ass and giving it a few quick squeezes which only causes Ahyeon to smirk even more and tighten around you.

The rest of the weekend goes by relatively quickly and in the same manner as the first night. You two don't bother to wear any clothing the entire weekend nor do you have to leave since your parents had stocked the fridge with enough food for the weekend and following week and if either you didn't feel like cooking, you ordered food in. With your basic needs met, you two were free to fuck to your hearts delight. You spent 99% of the weekend buried inside of Ahyeon's ass or pussy (with your first time taking her ass being the play fight/fuck after you two made breakfast after the first night). There were a few times throughout the weekend that you actually tried to pull out of her before while cumming; but each time, she would beg you to breed her or fill her or creampie her or whatever she would say, and you were powerless to do anything except fulfill her wish, you were a first time boyfriend and happy wife leads to happy life so who were you to deny her what she wanted.

When you returned to your dorm Sunday night, your friends asked you about your weekend with Ahyeon and you simply responded with "It was good. A lot better than I thought it would be" before ignoring the rest of their questions before queuing up a game of LoL.

#kpop smut #kpop x male reader #kpop x reader #male reader #ahyeon smut #jung ahyeon #ahyeon #babymonster smut #babymonster #girl group smut #male reader smut #female idol smut #jung ahyeon smut #female idol x reader #girl group

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cineatros · 2 months ago

Text

unexpected hello, unwanted goodbye

── .✦ 𝐒ophia 𝐋aforteza

"Hindi tayo pwede"

༉‧₊˚.pairing: sophia laforteza x reader ༉‧₊˚.genre: heavy angst. no comfort. ༉‧₊˚.cw: homophobic and misogynist parents. right person, wrong time. unlabeled relationship. violence. homophobia. ༉‧₊˚.wc: 11.6k ༉‧₊˚.author's note: okay, please do not portray the characters’ personalities as reflections of real people — especially Sophia's parents. For the love of God, it's just part of the story. so I repeat: DO NOT and this might stung a little. not proofread. also some dialogues of Sophia is in Tagalog. i really dragged this out so please excuse that lol, anw i hope you guys enjoy reading!!

"Pinagtagpo pero 'di tinadhana"

Sophia Laforteza.

She’s the well-known daughter of a famous chef and a retired actress. The only daughter out of three siblings, and her mother’s expected— successor in the limelight. Ever since she could remember, Sophia was always the center of attention. Not in a sparkly, look-at-me kind of way—but in a way that felt…heavy. Like she was carrying something that was never really hers to begin with.

Her older and younger brothers? They were just there. Background characters. Her parents never really paid them much attention. Her dad would always say with a soft chuckle, “You’re a girl, darling—you’re too emotional and fragile to handle the real world like your brothers can. We need to take care of you.”

And that’s what Sophia always kept in mind whenever her parents dictated what she could or couldn’t do. She never thought of them as strict—just overprotective. She thought, maybe they just love me too much. Maybe all that control was their way of showing care.

When Sophia reached elementary, she started noticing things. Her friends had parents who let them go out, who said “yes” to playdates, sleepovers, and mall trips. Meanwhile, Sophia was always told “Hala, you might get lost and never come back to us,” or “May masasamang loob diyan, anak. They might take you and we’ll never see you again.”

She never protested. Never questioned. She just nodded, returned to her room, and played with her toys like nothing was wrong. She didn’t ask her friends why their parents were so...chill. Why no one watched their every move. Why did they seem free? Sophia thought, “Siguro, my parents just love me more.

High school went by in a blur. Halfway through 10th grade, she found herself transferring schools—not just to another city, but to the States. It came out of nowhere. One minute, she was settling into her old school, the next, she was dealing with new faces, unfamiliar routines, and time zones her body refused to adjust to. But she made it through. She finished with grades good enough to please her parents.

Then came college.

Sophia started her freshman year as the shy, quiet type. The kind of student professors liked because she never caused a scene. She barely spoke unless called on. She had no friends, no distractions. Her routine was strict—get home early, no hanging out, no dilly-dallying. So she just focused her way on the top and never cared for any social interactions not until one of the popular girls “befriended” her.

Sophia didn’t want to be with this certain circle of friends, she knew their reputation around the school. She had heard things—rumors, whispers about the kind of stuff they did after school. Parties, alcohol, hooking up with seniors. Which was not her scene, but of course her people pleasing skills betrayed her.

She didn’t know how to say no.

At first it was just a friendly interaction—hello’s in the hallway, turned into eating with them during lunch, then into being groups with them in every project. She tried her best to keep their friendship at that level, no hangouts at each other's houses, no invites, just a purely casual friendship.

Then one night—it was already quiet, everyone was asleep except for one person. Sophia’s still chatting at their group chat (their “project” group chat), they were telling her to go to this party with them. They want to celebrate. Sophia was hesitant with this decision, telling them that she was about to sleep and she can’t go because her parents would be mad, but they suggested that Sophia should sneak out of her bedroom window and they’ll see her outside of her front porch.

At first, she laughed it off. But deep down, a part of her wanted to say yes. Just this once. Just to feel something that was hers. With one last push of her “friends”, she got up and quietly picked out what she would wear and told them to meet her at the front porch. Sophia was no good at sneaking out since this was her first time doing it. Her so-called friends told her every move to what to do when to sneak out, she built a body fort of herself, she quietly opened her window—she was thankful that her bedroom floor was on the second floor near a tree. Her hands trembled as she climbed down, careful to avoid the house’s security cameras.

When she hit the ground, she didn’t even look back. She hurriedly went to her friends who were waiting for her at the said location. For the first time, she felt...free. Nervous but free. As she reached the party, everything became overwhelming—the flashing lights, the strong smell of cheap beer and sweat could be smelled outside. Before she could protest, The group dragged her inside the house, laughing.

She was handed a cup of beer, the person that handed her encouraged her into drinking by bringing the cup onto Sophia’s lips. “Cheers, Laforteza,” she said. Both of them drank—one with a satisfied expression and the other disgusted. That person elbowed Sophia following a laugh, “C’mon you’ll warm up with the taste once you always get the taste of it”. So Cup after cup. Her head spun. Her cheeks burned.

Sophia didn’t know how many she drank, but she knew that it was enough to knock her down. She brought the cup down on a table and found herself a room or even a couch to sit herself down. She was not feeling well, everything was feeling too hot, too dizzy, too blurry. One of her friends sat down beside her “See? This isn’t so bad, you just need to trust us and have fun along the way” they groggily said and passed out right after.

Sophia couldn’t even respond.

She blacked out.

The morning after was no good—a ton of missed calls from her parents, her friends were still knocked out, and she has no idea where she is and how she’ll go home. Sophia was in a state of panic, and didn't know what to do. She wanted to call her parents first, thinking of a lie that they’ll believe. As they picked up the call Sophia’s heart rate was picking up too.

Sophia didn’t get to defend herself or even tell her where she’s at; when she heard her mom’s voice yelling, telling her to go home or she’ll get punished. Sophia stood up from the couch she was sitting on and gathered her things. She was about to wake up one of her friends, but when she looked around these were not the people she arrived with last night. Her friends were nowhere in sight, the living room was just full of strangers.

She sat there, panic crawling up her throat.

They left her there.

A room full of strangers.

A place she doesn’t know.

She sighed out in defeat, thinking that she might as well tell her parents where she’s at and just accept their punishment. Before she could think of ringing them again, her phone buzzed. Kuya. She jumped out of the couch quickly when her brother said that he was outside at her location. She looked out the window and there’s her savior—inside the black mustang and gesturing to her to come hurriedly. Sophia ran to the door and ran towards the parked car.

The car ride to their home was her keep on ranting about what happened.

Of course, her brother scolded her. He didn’t yell. Not yet. He just ran the whole way back.

Told you so. Drop them. They’re a bad influence. Don’t you see what they did to you?

She barely listened. She was too busy replaying everything in her head.

When they arrived home, Sophia prepared herself. She took a deep breath. Steeled her nerves.

But nothing could prepare her for the way her mother looked at her. Fire in her eyes. Disappointment. Rage. Fear. All of it rolled into one.

“Where were you?!” her mom yelled. Sophia bowed her head down, trying her best not to get affected by how her mother screamed at her. “Alalang-alala kami, Sophia!” her father shouted, his voice louder than she’d ever heard it.

Sophia knew that she cannot defend herself in this situation. She either lies or tells them the truth and accepts whatever punishment they are going to give her. She was about to say it, tell them that she sneaked out of the house, and went to a party without their permission. She was gonna tell the truth, but that wasn’t the words she said to them. Lies spewed out of her mouth, telling them that ““I was tutoring... I fell asleep at her house.”

Her mom looked at her brother for confirmation, searching his eyes. He nodded, silently backing her lie. Sophia looked at him, eyes filled with gratitude and guilt.Sophia’s parents dismissed her brother, but let her stay there, so now she was left with them in their living room. Sophia’s mom sat down on the couch rubbing her temples as an attempt to calm her nerves down while her dad sighed out and looked at her daughter.

“Sophia. Pack your bags. You’re transferring to a new school. Somewhere private. Secluded. You are already being a rebel. We already told you disobeying us can cause you a punishment” her father said.

Her mouth fell open. “What? Just because I snuck out?!”

Her mom stood up, “you sneaked out, you barely keep your grades up, and now you’re yelling and talking back? This isn’t the Sophia we raised. You need proper discipline. Pack your bags now. Your brother will take you tomorrow” she said in the most calm way.

She stormed to her room, furious and heartbroken, she flopped to her bed and rethought what’s happening to her. She’s not the person she is right now. The Sophia she knew doesn’t sneak out, doesn’t involve herself into peer pressure, and especially doesn’t lie to her parents.

She screamed into her pillow.

She doesn’t want a new school. She doesn’t want to start all over again.

But she had no choice so she got up and went to her closet started packing her belongings,

The next day.

The ride to her new school was too quiet for her liking. Her older brother was driving and the younger one is clinging to her and feels like won’t let go anytime soon. Sophia thought it would be another school in a city where she could refresh her life all over again, thinking that her parents agreed for her to have her own space and dorm room, but when she opened her eyes, she saw trees. mountains. barely any buildings.

The car came to a halt indicating that they’ve reached the school. Sophia looked out the car window—the school looked old enough, minimal students were only to be seen, and nuns were all over the school grounds.

They got out of the car—Sophia being hesitant

A Catholic school.

She felt like the air got sucked out of her lungs.

She had never been in a place like this.

Strict didn’t even begin to describe it.

She stepped out of the car slowly, got her things and looked at her brothers one last time. Her younger brother ran to her “Ate, i’ll miss you po.” he cried while hugging her. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back before the break” she said reassuring him while hugging him tightly.

Her older brother ruffled her hair.

“Soph, try to pick your friends right this time, ha. Don’t let them influence you into bad things” Her older brother advised. She nodded, swallowing back her tears. “I’ll miss you both. Take care of bunso for me, ha.”

And with that, Sophia turned to face her new beginning.

She headed to her dorm room, suitcase in one hand and exhaustion weighing down the other. Her first day at this new, secluded Catholic school had already drained her—mentally and emotionally. She just wanted to lie down and forget the world existed. But when she pushed the door open, she didn’t expect to see anyone yet—let alone someone standing in the middle of the room with smudged black ink all over their uniform, fingers, and even a streak on their cheek.

You turned to face her, grinning as if you weren’t an absolute mess.

“Hi, roomie! I’m Y/N L/N,” you chirped, voice bright and welcoming. “I’d hug you, but... I’m kind of in a situation right now, so your hug will be arriving later!”

Your energy caught her off guard.

Sophia blinked. For a split second, she fought a smirk, but it never fully formed. Instead, she shook her head lightly, walked to the nearest bed, and started setting her things down without a word.

You disappeared into the shared bathroom shortly after, changing out of your ink-stained clothes and washing your hands.When you stepped back out, you spotted her unpacking, moving around in quiet, efficient motions. Her silence filled every corner of the room, like it had weight.

You cleared your throat, trying to ease the weird tension lingering between the two of you.

“I didn’t get your name, roomie,” you said, casually cleaning your desk.

She didn’t even pause what she was doing.

Sophia sighed out, thinking that you won’t stop bothering her unless she gave you a name. “Sophia” she said shortly—barely sparing you a glance. There was a little hint of annoyance in her tone, like she was already done with this conversation before it even started.

But you nodded at her short response, unfazed. You had a feeling she was the guarded type—and those were always the most interesting.

So, being you, you kept on asking her some questions. Not in an annoying way, but with real curiosity. Something about her just pulled at you—the way she moved, the way she didn’t meet your eyes, the way she seemed like she wanted to disappear.

You started simple: her age, where she was from, what school she went to before. She answered all of them, clipped and cold, but you didn’t mind. As long as she answered, that was good enough for you.

Then your curiosity got the best of you. "so…what made you transfer here so suddenly?” you questioned her, not realizing how that one question would shift everything.

Her hands stilled on the edge of her drawer.

She didn’t look up.

You could feel the energy change.

Her walls came up before she even opened her mouth.

“What’s with the interrogation?” she snapped, her voice sharp and defensive. “Do you ask everyone that, or just me?”

You froze, surprised by the bite in her words.

You raised your hands slightly in surrender. “Hey—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I was just curious. I’ll give you some space. You didn’t wait for her response. Instead, you grabbed your phone and slipped out of the dorm room, gently closing the door behind you.

Back inside, Sophia stood frozen for a moment, staring at the door. Then she slowly walked to her bed and collapsed onto it.

Why did I snap like that?

Sophia didn’t know want came over. It wasn’t like her to just snap at someone with just a simple question. She didn’t even know you, and yet she reacted like you were trying to hurt her. It wasn’t a hard question. It wasn’t meant to cut deep. But still, her chest felt tight, like her past was a wound that hasn't healed yet—and you just touched it without knowing.

She didn’t mean to drive you away. But she didn’t know how to be close to anyone anymore. Not after what happened.

Not after what it cost her.

The night grew quiet. Hours passed. The other dorms dimmed their lights. Sophia remained on her bed, back turned toward your empty one. She figured you’d decided to crash at a friend’s room—or maybe you decided to ask for a room reassignment already.

But then the door creaked open.

It was soft—barely a sound.

She heard the light shuffle of shoes across the wooden floor. Someone tiptoeing. Trying not to be noticed.

“You know I’m still awake, right?” Sophia said into the dim light.

You froze mid-step and chuckled awkwardly, turning toward her bed.

“Of course I know that,” you said, giving her a sheepish smile.

Sophia reached over and switched on her side lamp. The room glowed a warm yellow, and she finally got a good look at you—your clothes were all wrinkled and dirtied up, Sweat beaded on your forehead, and your breathing was a little off.

She blinked. “Where were you? And why the hell do you look like that?”

You gave her a crooked grin, clearly trying not to laugh.

“Well... I might’ve pulled a prank on one of the teachers. And then I ran for my life. So, you know—standard Wednesday.” you said.

Sophia stared at you.

Yup.

Troublemaker.

Just her luck.

Even if it’s Sophia’s first day here she knew you were a trouble maker. Exactly the kind of person she didn’t want to be near—not anymore. Not after what that kind of recklessness cost her. The room fell into another silence. You stood awkwardly near your bed, sensing the tension again.

Sophia wanted to say something. To apologize. To tell you she didn’t mean to be so cold earlier.

But the words caught in her throat.

So before things got weirder, you broke the moment and quietly headed to the bathroom to shower and change. Sophia watched you walk away, her eyes lingering on the empty space you left behind.

She shook her head, turned off her lamp, and laid down again.

This was going to be a long year.

Sophia’s first day at her new school was…a disaster.

From the moment she stepped outside the dorms, she felt like she’d been thrown into a maze with no map, no clue, and no escape. The hallways all looked the same—endless rows of classrooms with strange numbering systems. She clutched her schedule tightly, her knuckles pale, trying to make sense of where she was supposed to be.

Room 3C-205.

Where on earth was that?

She turned another corner, only to end up back where she started. Again. She wandered aimlessly through the school hallways, clutching her crumpled schedule in one hand, eyes darting from one door to the next. Her steps grew faster, more frantic. Everything felt too big, too wide, too overwhelming. The buildings stretched endlessly, and every hallway looked the same. She kept circling back to where she started, like some cruel joke the school was playing on her. Her frustration simmered in her chest, threatening to spill over.

Hindi ko na ‘to kaya. (i can’t do this anymore)

She wanted to ask someone for directions, but the halls were empty. Not a single soul in sight. Just the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the echo of her own footsteps. Her chest tightened. She was lost. Late. And already exhausted—and it wasn’t even noon.

Eventually, she gave up and dragged herself outside. She found a shady spot under one of the large trees near the campus center and sat down heavily, hugging her bag to her chest. The breeze offered a little comfort, but not enough to wash away the growing frustration in her chest. She stared at her room assignments again, but the list may as well have been in another language. Nothing made sense.

She was on the verge of giving up when a familiar voice cut through the silence.

"Are you cutting classes on your first day, Ms. Laforteza?"

It was you.

There you were—Wearing the same uniform, with your shirt slightly untucked like you didn’t really care, your backpack carelessly slung over one shoulder, grinning like the universe decided Sophia needed just one more thing to deal with. She let out an annoyed huff, not even trying to hide the exasperation on her face.

Of course, it had to be you.

She narrowed her eyes on you. “You have too much free time.”

“You’re not happy to see me, roomie?” you asked, tilting your head and giving her that mock-sad expression. She rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath, refusing to meet your gaze. Her eyes stayed glued to her schedule, as if staring at it long enough would suddenly reveal the answer she needed.

"You know," you said, peering over her shoulder, "with that attitude, I might just leave you here."

"I’m not stopping you."

"Oof. Ice cold, Laforteza."

She sighed again and looked down at her schedule. The letters swam in front of her eyes. Maybe she was stupid for thinking she could handle this on her own.

You leaned in a little, reading her paper. “Ahh. 3C-205. That’s on the other side of campus.”

She groaned. “Of course it is.”

“But lucky for you…” you said, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off your pants, “I know a shortcut.”

She side-eyed you. "Are you seriously gonna help me, or are you just planning to lead me to some broom closet as a prank?"

You clutched your chest in mock offense. “Wow. I do not do that to my fellow schoolmates. I’m offended.”

Sophia gave you a suspicious look and didn’t answer, then sighed—long and deep. She already knew she was absent for her first class, and now she was stuck talking to you. What a great start.

You gasped, mock-offended. “Wow. Is that what you think of me?”

She didn’t answer, just stared at you, clearly unconvinced.

"Okay, fair. But I promise this time I’m actually being helpful," you said, grinning.

You held out your hand to her. She looked at your hand, then up at your face. For a second, she hesitated. Her pride whispered don’t—but eventually, she took it. Your fingers were warm against hers, steady. Solid. Something she really needed right now.

“C’mon. I’ll take you there.” you told her.

Sophia looked at you with hopeful eyes. She slung her bag over her shoulder and followed you, her steps small and unsure. Like a lost puppy, trailing behind the one person who seemed to know where to go.

The walk was long, winding through corners and stairwells she wouldn’t have dared explore alone. You walked ahead but always looked back, slowing down when she lagged behind, throwing in jokes every now and then to try and get a reaction out of her. Finally, you both arrived at her classroom. She peeked inside, ready for the worst—but to her relief, she was excused for being late.

You turned to her with a lopsided grin. “I’ll wait for you here later, okay? I’ll walk you to your next class.”

She blinked, surprised. “Seriously?”

You nodded. “Seriously.”

For the first time that day, she smiled—just a little—and gave you a quiet “thank you.”

As she slid into her seat and watched you walk away, she let out a small sigh, her shoulders finally relaxing.

Maybe…you weren’t so bad after all.

It had been like that for the past few weeks—an unspoken routine forming between you and Sophia. Every day after class, you’d walk her to her assigned room before dashing off to yours. You didn’t mind being late. Not if it meant making sure she got there safely. Not if it meant giving her a small sense of comfort in a place that once felt just as suffocating to you.

You weren’t trying to be a hero. You just didn’t want her to feel what you did on your first few days here—alone, overwhelmed, and quietly drowning in the noise of unfamiliar walls. You weren’t just a troublemaker. You weren’t just some nosy roommate. You wanted her to know that she wasn’t invisible. Not to you.

When the bell rang, the hallways flooded with students. You stood outside her classroom, eyes darting left and right, searching for the Filipina and once you saw her your whole face lit up,

“Soph!” You called out, eyes lighting up like they always did when you saw her. You waved like a maniac, grinning so wide your cheeks ached.

Sophia let out a long-suffering sigh and rolled her eyes, clearly mortified. “Grabe ka,” she muttered, especially when she noticed a few students turning to look at her with amused expressions and questioning looks.

She stalked over to you, arms crossed. “What do you want?”

You smirked, hands in your pockets like you weren’t dying to see her all day. “Thought you needed some company on the way to the dorms. You know, in case you get lost again.”

She scoffed, smacking your shoulder lightly with a rolled-up test paper. “You’re so funny, no?” she said dryly. “And it was one time, okay?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you at the memory.

That “one time” had been right before the midterm quizzes. the two of you went on separate ways to review for the upcoming quizzes–you were in the dorm and she was in the library. It was currently 9pm, lights-out approaching fast, but Sophia still hadn’t come back. Concerned, you grabbed a hoodie and headed out to find her.

First, you checked the library. Nothing. Then under the big tree near the garden. Still no sign. Just when you were about to give up and report her missing to the dorm head, you spotted someone speed walking around the hallway, books clutched tight against their chest, hair messed up, And there it was—that familiar keychain dangling from a backpack.

‘Sophia!” you yelled, relief washing over you like a wave.

She turned, eyes wide and dazed. “Oh my God,” she whispered, jogging up to you. Her voice was groggy, like she’d just woken up.

“Where the fuck are you going?” you asked, grabbing her books before they tumbled from her hands.

“I-I actually don’t know. I feel like I’m still asleep,” she mumbled, and you let out a soft laugh, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and steering her back.

“Stupid,” you teased, bumping your shoulder against hers. “You probably just drooled on your notes and passed out.”

“Excuse me!” she protested, pinching your side as you both laughed. “I reviewed, okay? I just… maybe fell asleep after,” she grumbled, cheeks pink.

You teased her the entire walk back, and she rolled her eyes so much you swore they’d get stuck. But you noticed it—that tiny smile she tried to hide. The way her footsteps fell in sync with yours. The way her voice softened just a little when she said your name.

Since then, Sophia had started opening up, piece by piece. She still had walls, of course. Tall ones. But there were cracks now, and you were careful with every step, not wanting to push too hard. She wasn’t as snappy as she used to be, though she still threw in an eye-roll or sarcastic jab now and then—like muscle memory.

You didn’t mind. That was her way of saying she was comfortable. That she trusted you enough to be herself.

Sometimes, she’d lean against your shoulder when you both sat on the dorm hallway floor, eating snacks you smuggled from the cafeteria. Sometimes, she’d quietly slip you a candy bar in class when she noticed you skipping breakfast again. Sometimes, she’d just be there—without needing to say anything.

And those moments? Those moments meant everything.

She was still guarded. Still afraid to go through what she went through in her last school. You didn’t ask what happened—you figured she’d tell you when she was ready. But you could see it in her eyes, in the way she hesitated to let people in.

So you waited. You stayed. And you walked her to her room every day like it was your religion.

Because she wasn’t just a roommate anymore.

She was Sophia.

And you were starting to care more than you were ready to admit.

The next day brought heavy rain, the kind that drowned out every other sound, like the world was trying to quiet itself down. You and Sophia had Botany together—same class, same schedule. That’s why the two of you found yourselves in the greenhouse earlier than usual, the warm scent of soil and leaves wrapping around you like a blanket.

It wasn’t raining when you first got there. The sky was overcast, sure, but calm. You were both flipping through your notebooks, talking about anything but Botany. Then the rain started. First, just a soft drizzle tapping on the glass above you. Then it turned angry—loud, relentless, with thunder rolling in like a war drum.

The first crack of lightning didn’t faze you. But Sophia? She flinched. You saw it out of the corner of your eye—how her shoulders jumped, how her grip on her pen tightened.

You snorted. “Seriously? You’re scared of lightning?”

Another rumble followed, louder this time, and Sophia slowly stepped closer. Without saying anything, she grabbed your arm.

“Really? And You’re scared of thunder?” you teased, a grin playing on your lips.

She pinched your side in response. “Oh shut up, it’s a scary sound,” she muttered, just before another flash lit up the sky. She ducked again, covering her ears tightly, her eyes squeezing shut like it would make the noise go away.

You couldn’t help but soften. She looked so out of place—this composed, intimidating Laforteza, suddenly reduced to a girl hiding from the storm.

Rain started to pour heavier, the kind that seeps into your bones and drenches you no matter where you stand. “Let’s go, we’ll get sick if we don’t retreat,” you said, pulling her towards a covered part of the greenhouse.

She didn’t argue, just grabbed her things and followed you. But it was too late—your clothes were soaked through, notebooks dripping, your shoes squelching with every step. Even your phones weren't spared.

You spotted a small lost and found box near an old bookshelf, and rummaged through it like it held treasure. Jackpot: a used sweater, some pants, and a worn-out shirt. You tossed the shirt at her first.

“Dry yourself off first. Then change into these,” you said, holding out the sweater and pants.

She gave you a look. A very unimpressed one. “I’m not wearing used pants and a sweater that probably smells like a stranger,” she said, eyebrows raised.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, would you rather get sick and miss your perfect attendance award?” you replied with mock seriousness.

She glared but snatched the clothes from your hand anyway, muttering under her breath. Luckily, the greenhouse had foggy windows and was far enough from campus. She turned her back, started changing, and after a minute said, “Okay na.”

You turned—and instantly burst into a laugh. The sweater was way too big, the pants comically short.

“Don’t laugh at me,” she grumbled, scratching at the sweater's collar.

“I’m not,” you said, lifting your phone and snapping a quick photo when she wasn’t looking. You tucked it away with a grin. You’d keep that one forever.

It took a couple of hours before the rain finally stopped. You both ran back toward the dorms, feet splashing in puddles, laughing in between shivers. Your teeth were already chattering when you reached your room.

“You’re already shivering. You should’ve used the sweater,” she said, helping you onto your bed, concerning replacing her usual smug expression.

Sophia, now back in her usual uniform, grabbed a warm towel, a bottle of water, and some medicine from your drawer. She moved like she’d done this before, like taking care of someone came naturally.

“If I knew you get sick this easily, I would’ve let you take the damn clothes,” she said, handing you the medicine with a frown.

You gave her a cheeky grin. “If I told you, you wouldn’t have taken the clothes,” you said, then coughed right after.

She rolled her eyes at you, but you could see the smile she was fighting at the corners of her lips.

She glanced at the time, then looked back at you. “Go to your next class,” you told her, waving her off weakly. “I can take care of myself.”

But she just shook her head. “I'm not going anywhere,” she said softly, sitting down at the edge of your bed. Then, without warning, she slipped under the covers beside you.

“I know you wouldn’t leave me either if I got sick,” she added, her voice even quieter this time.

And that was it. The rest of the night passed in warmth, in quiet coughs and soft laughter. You teased her about the sweater again. She told you to shut up—again—but didn't stop smiling.

It wasn’t much. Just a storm, just wet clothes and shared medicine. But somehow, it felt like a shift. Like something between you two had quietly changed, and neither of you wanted to name it yet.

It was Saturday Night, No Homeworks. No Projects.

It was a quiet night for the two of you—or at least, it should’ve been quiet. For Sophia, it was. But not for you, not when your ears were full of sound—random OPM tracks playing one after another, all from the playlist Sophia made and swore you’d love if you just gave it a chance. You had your headphones on, slightly bobbing your head as your fingers danced through your playlist, cleaning it up and curating a new one at the same time.

Beside you, Sophia sat with her legs curled up, her attention focused on a book you lent her. Something you swore she’d like the same way she swore you’d like the songs. Every now and then, her eyes would skim the words, but you—unknowingly—were stealing some of that focus away. You were beside her, completely in your own world, your fingers lightly tapping the air like you were playing invisible drums, caught up in the beat. No care in the world. Just you and the music.

At first, Sophia didn’t mind. She barely noticed. But when your air-drumming got a little more enthusiastic, she finally glanced your way—and what she saw made her softly laugh under her breath. You didn’t hear it. You were too far gone in whatever song was playing. She shook her head a little, amused. You looked ridiculous.

And yet…adorable.

She couldn’t believe you were actually into the songs. I mean, you of all people? The same person who said, “What’s this? I won’t even understand the song, so what's the point?” The same person who swore she wouldn’t even last a single track. But then Sophia gave you that look—those soft, half-pleading eyes that were impossible to say no to—and you sighed, giving in with a grumbled, "Fine. One song only."

But one song became two. Then three. Then an entire night of scrolling, downloading, organizing. Somehow, the lyrics—even the ones you didn’t understand—still found a way to hit you somewhere deep. It was weird, but in a good way. You didn’t question it too much. You just… felt it.

From her side of the bed, Sophia watched you, head tilted slightly, book forgotten on her lap. You looked absolutely ridiculous with the air drumming and the small, almost imperceptible smile on your face, but there was something about you—something—that made her heart feel like it was flipping over and over in her chest.

Ano ba ‘to? she thought to herself, her brows furrowing slightly. She had never felt this before. This strange, giddy, stupidly warm feeling in her chest. And maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was that shallow.

But maybe it wasn’t.

She didn’t realize she’d been staring too long until you turned, pulled your headphones off, and raised your eyebrows at her.

“What?” you asked, your voice slightly louder than usual, still half in that echoing world of music.

Sophia blinked, caught red-handed, and immediately looked back down at the book. “Wala,” she muttered, flipping a page she hadn’t read. “You looked like a crazy person kanina.”

She said it casually, but the way her cheeks turned this soft, subtle shade of pink betrayed her completely.

You didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at her. And maybe, just maybe, you smiled a little too.

Sophia thought she was finally free. She really believed she had escaped the eyes that were always watching. The eyes that followed her every move, judged her every choice, and kept her from living the way she wanted to. To the outside world, she had everything—status, a name, a life people admired. But no one really understood how suffocating it was to live under that kind of pressure.

When she transferred to this school, she thought things would be different. That the weight she carried would finally lift. That she could finally just… exist. No one criticizing her. No one controlling her. For the first time, she hoped she could live without tiptoeing around expectations.

But she thought wrong.

Every move she made. Every breath she took. Every word she said—still found its way back to her parents. As if the walls could talk. As if even the trees were whispering about her.

Sophia knew she had to be careful. Especially when she got that text message from her mom. It was just a short one, sent while the two of you were laughing about something silly out in the courtyard. A warning, hidden beneath the usual “we’re just concerned.” A subtle reminder to watch who she was spending time with. You glanced at her and teased, “What’s that? Your boyfriend?” And she just laughed, shaking her head, putting her phone back into her pocket. She didn’t even reply.

She thought it was the same old thing again. Her mom being protective. A little paranoid. Maybe it was about what had happened before—something Sophia didn’t like talking about. But this time felt different. This time, it felt like someone really was watching.

Another message came later, when the two of you were lying under the old tree near the gym. The breeze rustled softly through the branches above, everything felt still. Peaceful. She opened her phone, and there it was—cold, sharp, and unapologetic: “You’re there to be a proper young lady, not to run around with girls who act like boys and confuse friendship with something else.”

She stared at the screen for a long time.

Confused. Hurt. A little angry.

Her eyes swept over the area, suddenly aware of every corner. Her heart started to race. Was someone watching them? Reporting back to her parents? She scanned the hallways, the benches, the windows—anyone. Anything. But all she saw was you, looking at her with worry, your hand reaching for her arm gently.

“Are you okay?” you asked quietly.

She nodded, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. There was worry written all over her face, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

Still, she didn’t reply to the message.

She turned her phone on Do Not Disturb and shoved it deep into her bag. She didn’t want to deal with it. Not now. Not when she was finally starting to feel safe. Not when she was finally starting to feel something real.

She told herself it was just her mom’s instincts again. The same overprotective habits that had kept her locked up for so long. Always controlling. Always expecting the worst.

But deep down, something tugged at her.

Because what if it wasn’t just instinct this time? What if someone really was watching?

It was a week before midterms, and Sophia had been tearing herself apart trying to keep up. Every time you saw her, she either had her head buried in a book or was passed out from exhaustion. She’s not resting anymore. You couldn’t even remember the last time you saw her smile, much less eat at the cafeteria with everyone else.

Lately, you only saw her during class or in your shared dorm room, and even then, her presence felt like a ghost passing through. She barely spoke, barely looked up. The Sophia you knew—soft-spoken but warm, sharp but gentle—was slipping through the cracks.

You were worried. And more than that, you missed her.

So you came up with a plan.

Something simple, something quiet. Something that felt like her.

You set up a picnic blanket in one of the school’s hidden spots—an old greenhouse behind the art building that hardly anyone went to anymore. It was where you always went when everything started feeling too loud. A place that reminded you to breathe.

You brought her favorite snacks, those little sweet things she liked to sneak during study sessions. You set up your portable speaker with a playlist she once said made her feel like the world paused for a moment. A few small fairy lights too, just enough to soften the shadows.

Everything was ready.

You waited in your dorm room, pacing just a bit. It was close to lights out, and you were hoping no one would notice the two of you slipping away. It wasn’t a big deal, but if someone found out, you knew Sophia’s parents would hear about it.

The door creaked open.

Sophia walked in, looking like she was about to fall apart. Her eyes were rimmed with fatigue, dark circles beneath them, and her skin was pale under the dorm's dull lighting. Her arms were full of books, heavy like the weight she carried on her shoulders.

You stood up quickly, walking over to help her unload her things onto her desk. You saw the way her lips barely moved, how her body swayed like she might collapse if she stopped moving.

You hesitated.

Maybe she needed rest more than anything. Maybe you were being selfish. What if all she wanted was to sleep?

You stood there for a second too long, unsure of what to say.

Sophia tilted her head, concern in her eyes. “Hey? You okay there? I kinda lost you for a second.”

You hadn’t even realized she was talking. She was telling you how drained she was—how she already felt defeated before the exams even started. You nodded slowly, steadying your voice.

“Soph,” you started, careful, quiet. “Do you want to go somewhere? Just… a place to breathe for a bit?”

She blinked at you, confused. “What? Where exactly?”

You explained softly—that it was a spot you found during your first week, when everything was overwhelming and nothing felt safe. You told her it became your haven, the one place that didn’t feel like the walls were closing in.

She looked at you for a moment, her eyes softening, until she glanced at the clock.

“How are we even going to get there? It’s already lights out,” she said.

“We have to sneak out.”

That’s when something shifted.

You didn’t know what changed, but you felt it. The air in the room got heavier, like a storm waiting to break. Sophia stepped back slightly, her expression faltering.

Her voice was lower now. “I…I don’t think I can do that again.”

You didn’t push. You waited.

She sat down on the edge of her bed, staring at her hands. “The last time I snuck out, things got bad. I got caught. I got in trouble. And worse…I was left alone. They left me. I don’t want to be left again.”

Her voice cracked on the last word.

You crouched down in front of her, gently placing your hand over hers. “You won’t be,” you said, quietly but firmly. “I’m not going to leave you, Sophia. And I’m not going to get you in trouble. We’ll be careful. I promise.”

There was silence for a while.

And then—she nodded.

The two of you slipped out of the dorms, careful with your steps and breathless with the quiet thrill of it all. You led her through the school grounds, down the path you knew by heart. When you reached the spot, you watched her eyes take in everything.

The picnic blanket spread out with soft pillows. The warm glow of fairy lights. A few potted plants lining the edges. The stars above, clearly visible through the glass ceiling of the old greenhouse, glittering like they were waiting for the two of you.

Sophia stepped into the space slowly, as if afraid it would disappear if she moved too fast.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, almost in a whisper.

You sat down beside her, offering her food, and for the first time in days, you heard her laugh. It was quiet and tired, but real.

You didn’t talk about exams. Not once.

Eventually, when the silence settled between you comfortably, you found yourself speaking.

You told her how you ended up in this school—how you had your own past you didn’t like to revisit. How being left alone wasn’t just something you hated, it was something that haunted you. That sometimes, even when people said goodbye, the echo of their absence stayed louder than anything else.

She looked at you, eyes soft and a little glassy. “I’m sorry,” she said, taking a deep breath. “For what happened to you.”

Then she told you her story—not all of it, not yet, but enough. Enough to understand the girl behind the silence. The pressure. The rules. The fear of being seen and punished for simply trying to live.

The quiet stretched between you again, not heavy, but calm.

After a while, you stood up and reached out your hand to her, smiling just a little. “Dance with me?”

Sophia looked up at you, a little caught off guard. “Now?”

“I’ve never gotten to dance with someone at prom,” you said. “And you look like you owe yourself a moment like this.”

As cliché as it was, she took your hand. And under the stars, with music playing low and the world stripped of its noise, the two of you danced. No big moves, no twirls, just quiet steps and held gazes. Just closeness.

Just presence.

The test results were finally out, and Sophia felt like she was drowning in her own thoughts. Her chest was tight, her palms cold, and her stomach in knots. Anxiety clung to her like a second skin, and no matter how much she tried to focus, her mind kept spiraling. What if I failed? What if I messed this up? What if they make me transfer schools again because of one stupid score?

When the paper was handed to her, she couldn’t bring herself to open it at first. Her fingers trembled slightly as she held onto the folded test sheet like it held her fate. She inhaled deeply, a silent prayer running through her mind—please, please don’t let it be bad.

And then, with hesitant hands, she opened it.

90%.

A breath escaped her lips. Relief washed over her like a wave, and for a moment, she felt the weight lift. It was the score she hoped for—enough to make herself proud. Maybe even enough to show her parents she was trying.

With a flicker of hope, Sophia decided she’d call them. She wanted to share this moment, to tell them she was doing fine, maybe even hear them say they were proud of her. As the bell rang and the halls flooded with chatter, she made her way quickly back to the dorm.

The room was empty. You weren’t there. Perfect timing.

She sat on her bed and dialed, her heart still fluttering with a mix of nerves and excitement. The phone rang once… twice… then someone picked up.

“Hi, Ma! Hi, Pa!” she greeted, her voice bright, her tone warm and upbeat.

Her parents, sensing the joy in her tone, matched her energy—or at least tried to. “I just wanted to update you… things are going okay. My roommate’s actually really cool, and I got a 90 on my midterm—”

A long pause. Her mother’s voice cut through, sharp and cold.

“A 90?”

Sophia blinked. “Yeah. I know it’s not perfect, but I’ve been studying really hard and—”

Her mother didn’t let her finish.

“Ninety? That’s it? You call that improvement? You’re in college now, Sophia. Bakit parang high school level parin ang mga grades mo?”

Sophia’s smile faltered. Her hand clenched the phone tighter.

“If you keep getting scores like that, don’t bother coming home. Do you hear me?” her mother snapped. “We will disown you. I didn’t raise you for this kind of mediocrity.”

Sophia tried to respond, her lips parting to explain, to say something, anything— “And your roommate,” her mother added, her tone laced with disgust. “Stay away from her.”

“What?”

“She’s not someone you should be around. I don’t care if she’s nice or if she helps you study. She’s a bad influence. Do you even know what kind of person she is? Don’t you know she’s a sinner? You think that’s someone you should trust?”

Sophia’s heart stopped. She couldn't find her voice.

“You're so easily swayed. This is why you're falling behind. Focus on your future, not... her.”

Before she could respond, the line went dead.

Sophia sat there, staring into nothing, phone still to her ear, the silence on the other end louder than anything. Her throat burned. Her hands were cold. The silence in the room grew heavier with each passing second. Her chest tightened again, but this time, not from anxiety—this was hurt. A deep, twisting hurt that made her feel so small.

They didn’t even ask if she was okay.

Tears welled up in her eyes before she could even try to stop them. She curled up on her bed and cried into the pillow, trying to smother the sound of her sobs. She was supposed to meet you for lunch—but now she didn’t even want to leave the room.

The ache in her chest was too much. Her appetite was gone. She stayed curled up under the blanket, her mind replaying the words over and over again. Not enough. Disown. Sinner.

She cried—quiet at first, then louder as everything she had buried started to surface.

She didn’t hear the door open.

“Sophia?”

Her heart skipped. She quickly wiped her tears, sat up, and tried to compose herself, but it was too late.

There you were, standing at the doorway with a tray full of snacks and drinks, grinning—until you saw her face.

Your smile disappeared. You rushed over, leaving the tray on your bed.

“Hey… hey, what happened?” you asked, kneeling beside her.

Sophia just shook her head, eyes cast down. Her lips trembled. She didn’t want to cry in front of you. She never did. She was supposed to be composed, in control. Crying felt like weakness—and weakness was never allowed in her house growing up.

You glanced at her bed: messy books, a crumpled test paper, used tissues, her phone.

“Mahal…” you said softly, reaching for her hand and brushing her hair away from her damp cheeks. “Tell me what happened.”

She tried to hold it in, but the moment you touched her, the dam broke.

“M-my mom… she said my grades weren’t enough,” she whispered, voice cracking, eyes filled with shame.

You nodded gently, encouraging her to let it out, your fingers weaving through her hair as you pulled her close. Her head rested on your chest, and she clung to you like she might fall apart if she let go.

“She said I was useless,” she sobbed, “and if I ever get grades like this again…they’ll disown me.”

Her whole body shook as the words left her mouth. Her tears soaked through your shirt, and her voice—raw, trembling, barely a whisper—was filled with years of hurt she never allowed herself to speak aloud.

You held her tighter.

“Y/n… I don’t want to be disowned,” she said between sobs. “I don’t want to be alone…”

You cupped her face gently, wiping away her tears with your thumbs. “Ssshh… look at me, mahal.” She did, eyes red and swollen. “No one will disown you. And no one—no one—will ever leave you. Not on my watch, okay?”

Sophia leaned back into your arms, letting you wrap her in warmth. You kissed the top of her head softly, your hand rubbing gentle circles on her back.

She never knew comfort like this—only from her younger brother, and even that felt like a secret she wasn’t allowed to need. But here, in your arms, the world was quiet. The pressure, the expectations, the fear… all of it faded.

And for the first time, Sophia felt like she wasn’t just surviving—she was seen.

She didn’t say anything more after that. She didn’t have to. Her head stayed against your chest, your heartbeat grounding her, anchoring her to the present. You stayed like that for a long time, letting the silence be soft and healing.

Then, almost hesitantly, her fingers reached out for the snack tray you brought. She sniffled.

“What… what did you get?” she asked, her voice hoarse but trying to sound normal again.

You smiled, relieved. “Chocolate cake. Milk tea. Your favorites. I had to bribe the vending machine and practically threaten the lady at the bakery to get the last slice.”

A tired laugh slipped out of her—small and shaky, but real. “You’re too nice to me.”

“I’d fight the world for you,” you whispered, serious now. “And your mom, if she keeps talking like that.”

Sophia didn’t respond. She just tucked her head back into your chest, like maybe if she stayed there long enough, the rest of the world would fade.

And for now, that was enough.

Sophia didn’t listen to her mother—not this time. She didn’t stay away from you, and honestly? She didn’t want to. You had already become her safe place, her calm in the chaos that surrounded her every day. For the second time in her life, she defied the rules her parents raised her on. She knew the risks—especially with the eyes her parents kept planted in the school halls—but she didn’t care. Not when it came to you.

The two of you hadn’t even defined what you were to each other. No labels. No promises. Just this unspoken understanding that your feelings were real and blooming quietly in stolen glances and whispered conversations. You were both in no rush to name it—whatever it was. You simply existed together in a kind of sacred secrecy.

Because this school, this Catholic school, didn’t allow space for love like yours.

So everything you did was hidden. Holding hands beneath the cafeteria table. Kissing softly behind the chapel when no one was looking. Cuddling in quiet corners of the library. Every touch had to be calculated. Every look had to be careful.

At first, you didn’t mind the secrecy. You were here because of that again. Your parents had sent you off to this place hoping to “fix” you. Turn you into the perfect straight daughter with impeccable discipline and proper behavior. But somehow, they thought an all-girls school was the answer—which only confirmed how little they actually knew you.

You didn’t expect to find someone like Sophia. Honestly, you thought she was going to be one of those girls—too proper, too soft-spoken, probably a little too perfect. Her family was known, her life looked polished from the outside, and her vibe screamed stay away. Everything about her felt opposite to you. Her clothes, her posture, her carefully measured smiles. And still, she drew you in.

It started small. That first day, she was totally lost, clutching a schedule and scanning the hallway numbers like they were a puzzle. You spotted her from down the hall, looking hilariously confused, and you could’ve helped right away—but you didn’t. Not yet. You pretended you had a different class just to peel off and loop back around later so it looked more casual. You wanted to help, but you didn’t want to seem like you cared. Not too much.

Then there was the cafeteria. She sat alone at lunch, stiff and guarded, picking at her food like it was some chore. Most girls avoided her—maybe it was her resting don’t talk to me face, or maybe they were just intimidated by the last name she carried. But you didn’t care. You sat across from her anyway, not asking for anything, just existing there until she realized you weren’t a threat.

From then on, it built slowly—like music with no beat drop, just a gradual rise in volume until you realized it was surrounding you.

You learned about her little by little. Her favorite snacks. Her weird pet peeves. The way she liked her books organized by color instead of author. How her parents expected her to be this picture-perfect daughter, and how she never really got the chance to feel things on her own terms. You saw the weight she carried—how exhausting it must be to be so controlled, to be so watched all the time. She wasn’t just some rich girl with rules. She was someone who never got to breathe without someone else telling her how.

And God, did you want to protect her from all of it.

You didn’t realize you were falling until it was already happening. It wasn’t some movie moment with swelling violins and fireworks. It was a Tuesday. She was wearing your oversized hoodie, curled up in your bed with the book you recommended, and between her soft humming and the occasional Tagalog lessons she mumbled into your arm, you felt it—the quiet click of something inside you shifting.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t even loud.

It was just real.

You started noticing the way she’d lean into you when you were alone, how she’d blush a little whenever you called her something stupidly sweet like sunshine or cutie. She never asked you to stop, even when her cheeks turned red. And when you hung out in secret spots around campus, she’d sit closer. Her fingers would linger. Her eyes would stay on you a little longer than before.

But the moment everything changed?

It was that night in the library.

You found her sitting cross-legged on the floor between two shelves, lost in a novel, lips slightly parted as her eyes scanned the pages like they were secrets. You sat beside her quietly, pretending to read your own book. It was quiet, almost too quiet, so you nudged her. She barely looked up, and when she did, it was only for a second before she returned to her pages.

So you did what anyone would do—you stole her book. She gasped, playful fire in her eyes, and tried to snatch it back. You grinned and told her to follow you to the back where the bean bags were, promising it’d be more comfortable.

She followed.

You both sank into the cushions, backs to the wall, legs stretched out. She slid down until her head was resting on your thigh, your fingers casually playing with the ends of her hair while you read aloud a line or two just to annoy her. Eventually, she gave up on reading and just watched you instead.

You didn’t notice until she sighed—soft and tired.

You looked down, and there she was, her dark brown eyes fixed on you. You set the book aside.

“What?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

She shrugged.

You rolled your eyes. “Use your words, Laforteza.”

But she didn’t answer. Instead, her fingers reached up to trace the faint scar on your eyebrow. Her touch was featherlight, sending chills down your spine.

“It was a stupid accident,” you said, not wanting to get into the whole story about the nuns and your endless list of detentions.

She didn’t laugh. Just kept tracing.

The air felt thick. Too heavy. Too still. You both leaned in, instinctively. Slow, cautious, breath held between the inches of space.

And then—buzz buzz buzz. Her phone.

You both flinched.

She answered it, reluctantly, standing up with a quiet “Sorry.”

But after that night, it was like something shifted.

You didn’t talk about it. Not exactly. But everything between you got... softer. Closer. Sweeter.

She’d rest her head on your shoulder during study hours. You’d sneak snacks into her room on bad days. She started wearing your clothes more often. You started leaving little sticky notes in her books with dumb doodles and inside jokes. You called her mi amore just to see her blush, and she called you makulit like it was the most affectionate word in the world.

And maybe you weren’t officially anything yet. Maybe you were still hiding in quiet corners and exchanging secret smiles in crowded halls.

But you knew.

She was yours.

And you were hers.

Even if the world wasn’t ready.

The next day, you woke up earlier than usual. You didn’t even bother fixing your hair or ironing your uniform perfectly—your focus was set. Today was Sophia’s birthday. You wanted to make it special. Even if the school didn’t allow celebrations, even if it meant breaking the rules again, you didn’t care. You had snuck in a small cupcake the night before, tucked away in your drawer, along with a candle you stole from the chapel's supply room. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Today was also the day you planned to ask her—to finally ask Sophia to be your girlfriend. You rehearsed what to say in your head a hundred times over. You were going to tell her you loved her. You were ready.

But before anything could happen, your name echoed through the entire school from the PA system.

“Y/N, to the directress' office. Immediately.”

The cupcake in your hands felt heavier all of a sudden. You looked at it one last time before placing it gently on the desk. You didn’t want to get into more trouble than you already were, so you took a deep breath and headed to the office.

When you stepped inside, the air changed.

Nuns surrounded the room like shadows, silent and still, their eyes sharp and unreadable. And there, in the middle, stood Reverend Mother. Her face was stone. No one said a word. Not until she slowly walked up to you.

You opened your mouth to ask what was going on, but you didn’t even get the chance.

Smack!

Your head snapped to the side. A sting bloomed on your cheek, and your knees buckled from shock more than the pain. Before you could react, her hand raised again—

Smack!

Another blow. And another. You didn’t know how many. You didn’t even know why. You just found yourself on the floor, trembling, hands pressed against the cold tiles, the copper taste of blood blooming on your lip. Your cheek throbbed. The nuns remained still, judgmental eyes digging into your skin.

“You are a disgrace!” the Reverend Mother shouted. “Do you even know how many sins you’ve committed?”

You looked up at her through tears. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t even understand what exactly you were being punished for—at least not out loud.

“You turned a pure, innocent girl into a sinner. You are a disgrace to humanity.”

“I love her,” you choked out. “I did not turn her into a sinner, because i don’t think it was a sin”

Your voice trembled, but you kept going. “It’s not wrong to love someone—even if they’re the same gender. So i-i don’t think it was a sin, because it didn’t feel like a sin. it felt like it was too supposed to be feel” They just stared at you like you were crazy.

Then another slap.

“You don’t speak that way,” she said coldly. “You will be punished for your actions. But for now, you are dismissed.”

She paused at the door and added, “And as for Ms. Laforteza… don’t even think about contacting her. I have a separate punishment in store for that girl.”

You ran back to the dorms with blood on your lip and shame pooling in your chest. You cleaned yourself up the best you could, dabbing at your swollen cheek with a damp towel. You avoided your reflection. You didn’t want to see what they did to you. You didn’t want to see yourself right now.

You lit the candle on the cupcake just in time. When you heard the door open, you stood up fast, trying to hold it all together. Sophia stepped inside—and froze.

You sang anyway, voice shaky, but soft.

Happy birthday to you...

She blew out the candle, and you walked up to her. You saw her glance at your face, about to ask what happened—but then her phone rang.

She tensed. You caught a glimpse of the caller ID.

“Mama.”

She hesitated. Then stepped outside to take the call. You stood there alone, hands still warm from the candle. Heart already cold.

A few minutes passed.

Then you followed her.

The hallway was completely silent—the kind of silence that echoed with every breath. You didn’t know where she went. You didn’t know what you were expecting. But then you heard your footsteps fall down the stairs, fast and heavy.

And there she was.

Sophia Laforteza. Leaning against the wall, phone still glowing in her hand. Like she hadn’t moved in minutes. Her eyes met yours, and—God—you hated that she was crying again. Always crying because of her.

You ran to her and pulled her into a hug. You held her close, your bruised cheek brushing hers.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “I’m here. We’ll get through this. Together.”

But she didn’t hug you back.

You pulled away slightly. “What happened? What did she say?”

Sophia looked down, her voice small. “She said… she’s giving me one last warning. If I don’t stay away from you, she’s pulling me out. Right away.”

You waited.

You waited for her to say she told her mom that she didn’t care. That she loved you. That she was going to fight for you.

But she didn’t.

“I told her I’d stay away.”

And just like that, something cracked inside you.

“I don’t want to transfer schools again. I can’t.”

You stared at her.

“I fought for us,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “I got dragged into the directress’s office. I got slapped. Humiliated. I bled. I told them I loved you.”

She didn’t move. Her tears betrayed her, but she didn’t speak.

“And you—you just accepted what your mother said? Just like that? Without even thinking? Like a coward?”

Her tears fell faster, but still—silence.

“You do have a choice, Laforteza. You could’ve shown them that I matter to you. That this,” you gestured between you two, “means something. That loving each other isn’t wrong.”

You took a shaky breath. “But I guess… I was the only one who thought this was worth fighting for.”

Sophia tried to speak. Her lips parted. Her thoughts raced. She wanted to tell you she loved you too—but the words wouldn’t come out. They stuck in her throat like broken glass.

“So that’s it?” your voice broke. “I just told you I love you… and you have nothing to say?”

She opened her mouth.

Nothing.

You shook your head, laughing bitterly. “Alright. I’ll see you in the dorm room then.”

You turned around, walking away, your footsteps echoing through the hallway. Leaving Sophia frozen in place. All alone. With nothing but silence and everything she should have said.

The next day, the sun rose like it always did—quiet and indifferent.

But something felt wrong. Off.

You blinked away the sleep in your eyes and rolled over to check on the other side of the room. That side. Her side.

But Sophia’s bed was empty.

Perfectly made, as if no one had ever touched it. As if she had never been there.

You sat up slowly, the ache in your chest growing heavier with every second. You looked around the room—her books weren’t stacked on the table anymore. Her clothes, usually slung messily over the chair or hanging by the window to dry, were nowhere to be seen. The corner where she kept her favorite lotion, her hairbrush, the half-used bottle of perfume you always teased her about—gone. All of it.

It was like someone had come in during the night and erased her.

No trace of Sophia Laforteza. Not even a note. Not even a goodbye.

You dragged your feet across the cold floor and stood in front of her bed. Your hand hesitated over the blanket, your fingers curling just above the place where she used to sit, where she used to laugh, where she used to fall asleep while talking to you mid-sentence.

And all you could think about was the last time you spoke.

The last time her voice filled this room—it was shaking. She was crying. You were crying. And it wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. You were fighting. You were begging. For her to fight back. For her to choose you.

But she didn’t.

And now she was gone.

Just like that.

Pulled out of the school like it was nothing. Like everything that happened between the two of you didn’t even matter. Like you didn’t matter.

You sat down on the edge of her mattress, swallowing hard. The silence felt louder than it should. There were no soft giggles, no sarcastic remarks, no whispered conversations after lights out. Just you. And the echo of a goodbye that never came.

Your throat tightened as you stared blankly at the wall. You wanted to be angry. You wanted to scream. But more than anything—you just wanted one last moment. One last glance. One last word. Something.

Anything.

But all you had left was the memory of her tears, the weight of your own words hanging heavy between you, and a bed that wasn’t hers anymore.

And outside, the world just kept going. Like she was never even there.

gonna leave you guys with a quote lol: “Some people are just passing chapters, no matter how much you want them to be your whole story. The laughter, the promises, the late-night dreams of forever—they dissolve into silence. And the what-ifs? They haunt. But never regret the love that blossomed between the two of you. It lived, even if it died quietly.”

how'd i do :D??? i hope it stung like i hope it would haha

#cineatros artworks ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 #cineatros imagines ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 #sophia laforteza #sophia laforteza x reader #katseye sophia #katseye x reader #katseye imagines #katseye #katseye scenarios #sophia laforteza imagines #heavy angst #katseye x female reader #katseye sophia laforteza #gxg #wlw #sapphic

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milkbobatyun · 6 months ago

Text

hundred broken hearts

pairing: nishimura riki (ni-ki) x reader

genre: angst

summary: being niki's sister's best friend was hard, but being his friend and having a crush on him is even harder, especially when he debuts as a member of a boy group

word count: 1.1k

a/n: the woes of being a hopeless romantic. and yes im finally back from the dead !! n e ways the stuff that i've hinted in this is from stuff that's happened in the kpop industry and my life !! hehe

1 name. 2 words. 3 characters. nishimura riki. those two words alone were enough send the girls, and some guys, in your year into a frenzy. nishimura riki, with his stunning visuals, was the heartthrob of the school. it was only a pity that he rarely ever came to school.

you weren’t unlike the other students in your year. hidden beneath the uptight personality of being the model student, you were a shy, hopeless romantic. just the mere mention of his name made your heart do backflips and the tips of your ears blaze with heat.

unfortunately, you had the joy of knowing riki’s sister and being her best friend. needless to say, she was very much aware of the small crush you had on her brother. it started when she first noticed how you would stiffen up around her brother, your usual, unwavering gaze flitting across the room like a trapped butterfly.

every meeting with riki was a test of your nerves. whether it was in the school hallways or tiptoeing into the kitchen while tutoring his sister at their house, your crush on him was always your biggest obstacle. somehow, your fingers always found themselves twisting in knots, your mouth fumbling over a polite greeting.

butterflies exploded in your stomach whenever you made eye contact, your heart twirling with glee, skipping its usual rhythm entirely. you would panic, mentally stressing over your hair, your clothes. did you have food left on your mouth? gosh that would be embarrassing.

riki’s younger sister was your biggest supporter. time and time again, she encouraged you to confess to him.

“trust me! he likes you too,” she told you, a smirk dancing on her lips. “he was telling me a couple days ago, how he wished you would come over more, like the old days, so he could spend more time, if not with you, at least around you!”

her words sent a spark of hope coursing through your body. was it really true?

truth be told, your long history with the nishimura family started way back and began with an unlikely friendship with the competitive boy at the dance studio.

one dance challenge threw you into the chaotic lives of nishimura riki and his siblings. he had been so impressed by your dance skills that little, five-year-old him had declared you were his friend without hesitation. as time went by, you became a part of their family, their adopted daughter.

sleepovers became a tradition, family dinners were cosy and warm, with your favourite dishes spread across the table. over time, the nishimura family became your second home.

while the siblings were like family, your friendship with riki became charged with something a little more. something neither of you dared to touch, nor acknowledge, in fear of losing the other.

with the worries eating away at the both of you internally, your friendship drifted, until long and deep conversations about life faded into brief interactions and greetings when you saw each other in the halls at school.

your shared interests and hobbies drew you closer to riki's younger sister, until he became only a distant friend, an acquaintance.

your desk was scattered with the remnants of confession letters, left unfinished. your notes were locked, hiding away the dark secrets of your lengthy messages, trying to convey your feelings. your dreams were plagued with nightmares of the numerous ways riki could reject you. a dismissive laugh, a cold gaze, with the weight of his refusal haunting you even in your waking moments.

in the past few weeks, sightings of riki at school and even at the nishimura family home was scarce.

this fateful night, you sat by the television at home, the boy group survival show airing in the background, as you stared daggers into your chat with riki, wincing inwardly as you read your past conversations from years ago.

tonight, you would strengthen your resolve, grow a pair, if you will, and confess to riki. no more excuses were holding you back.

you laboured hard to craft the perfect message, polishing it and editing the confession time and time again. your fingers hovered over the keyboard, trembling with anxiety. a whirlwind of thoughts flew through your mind. what if he says no? what if i make this super awkward when i go to their house? his sister wouldn’t lie to me, right?

just as you were about to send the message, a familiar voice travelled through the speakers of the tv.

your head whipped up, gaze frozen on the boy framed in the tv screen. your heart stuttered to a stop.

it was riki. no, his name was ni-ki, but there was no mistaking it. the boy in the program, was nishimura riki, the one who held your heart in his hands.

you had known that his dream was to be a dancer, ever since he was young, so there was hardly a chance that he wasn’t going to debut in this new boy group.

seeing him under the spotlight, he looked happy, beaming with excitement. he belonged on the stage.

dread weighed on your shoulders. you realised that your confession would be a weight he would have to carry. you didn’t want to jeopoardise his chances of achieving his lifelong dreams. your confession would distract him from doing his best. even if he accepted it, you knew how tough the industry could be on idols dating, especially before debuting. if the media found out, it could lead to devastating backlash.

the thought twisted in your heart like a knife.

you fought back tears as you deleted your message, racing to your bedroom and throwing your phone across the room, before you found solace in letting your tears run. all night, your pillows swallowed your sadness, soaking up your tears.

you whispered your love to the stars, muttering apology after apology for your stupid heart. why couldn’t you love someone else?

a bitter smile twisted on your lips as you silently supported him, watching as he debuted and the group skyrocket to fame.

slowly, you became one of the many engenes that loved and supported the group, lost in a sea of fangirls. you wondered if there had been a chance, one that slipped through your fingers like grains of sand.

thousands of unsent messages, unspoken words of confession. maybe one of them could’ve thrown the two of you onto a different path.

1 person. 2 names. nishimura riki. ni-ki. thousands of fangirls. there was no way he could be with you. it just wouldn’t work out. maybe in another world, in another timeline, another life.

riki, i never told you this, but i like you. i’ve liked you since we were little kids. your sister told me that you might like me back. either way, i just wanted to say that i like you a lot.

to my [name], i’m sure my sister has said many times, but i like you. a LOT. nowadays, you fill my thoughts. you’re all i can think about. i would stay right here, forever, if i could, with you for all eternity.

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳) © curated with love by milkbobatyun 2024 / づ ♡

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen niki #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen au #niki #niki fluff #niki angst #enhypen angst #niki soft hours #nishimura riki #niki headcanons #niki imagines #niki x reader #enhypen headcanons #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x you

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coldhndss · 5 months ago

Text

One and only

Rin Itoshi

self-prompted

Rin is known to many as blunt and unfriendly. He doesn’t enjoy talking to new people and is almost always on the brink of losing it. Though, this slump that he’s currently in isn’t a reflection of how he always was. Rin used to be bright-faced, and pretty easily excitable.

You’ve known that from the start.

You and Rin used to chat with each other on the way home from school as kids. He’d tell you about how amazing his brother was at soccer, bursting with smiles; as though he was vicariously living through Sae’s talent on the field. When you questioned him about his own skill, he’d tell you that it doesn’t matter, and that his brother was simply better at playing than he was. He said that he'd settle for second place if it meant he'd get to see Sae in the spotlight beside him.

You would cheer him on from the sidelines, watching the local matches he and his brother used to play against other schools. To Rin, there was no one on the field but him and Sae. Though to you, there was no one there but Rin.

You can’t recall when it started, but there came a day where you were no longer able to listen to Rin mentally lower his own skill in favour of seeing his brother succeed. He looked so oddly happy settling for second place that it frustrated you. You knew his talents; you knew how much he enjoyed winning. What made him put all of his trust in someone other than himself? Couldn’t he also strive for first place while cheering on his brother? None of it made sense…

All he used to speak about were things including his brother’s skill. You get it, younger siblings typically admire their older siblings. Though they shouldn’t think ill of themselves just to heighten the other persons social standing. After all, the two of you had grown up together. You used to talk all the time, play games with each other, have sleepovers, walk home together. It always meant a lot to you, but did it ever mean a lot to him?

He had you, but he also had his brother.

You had him, and only him.

You noticed slight shifts in Rin’s personality. He stopped joking and smiling as much, though he never pushed you away. He became distant, as though something was constantly on his mind. You noticed his patience wavering, and his soft, subtle smile fading away.

It was as though you were reaching out for something that was no longer there.

Hanging around him started to feel like being around a brick wall. The two of you now had little to no interactions with each other. He would finish his work, and pack his bag immediately, leaving the classroom as though he had something more important to do. He wouldn’t offer his textbook when you forgot yours, and when you spoke to him about your interests, he seemed like he was listening, sure; but he wouldn’t pause what he was doing to give you attention, or even make it look like he had any interest.

“Maybe he’s just become bored of me”, you think to yourself. You know him. You know he wouldn’t tell you about his issues unless you pry. You also know that he would keep it to himself and go about it in his own cathartic way.

Despite this, you felt like he would snap instantly if you brought it up to him. Like he was a boiling pot brimming with water; and despite it having a lid, liquid still trickled down its sides.

Though… the thought of leaving him alone troubled you. It pained you to see him in such a state, and though he wasn’t showing any signs of wavering; you would at least put in the effort to find out what was troubling him, even if he pushes you away as a result of it. At least one day, when he finds that person who will put out the fire from under him, he’ll realise that your carefully chosen words were the shards of ice that would never melt in that boiling pot of water.

Classes had concluded for the week. Students were packing their bags, laughing, and making plans for the weekend. As usual, Rin was already halfway out of the door. Despite being close your entire life, an overwhelming feeling of loneliness dawned upon you as you realised that if you don’t do something now, you may never be able to again. Each step he took felt like another thread of a worn-out rope was snapping before your eyes, and you could no longer endure it.

“Rin..!” You called out to him. Your tone was shaky; you weren’t used anything like this.

The rest of the class had left by this point. He stopped dead in his tracks, his back facing you.

“What?” His voice was blunt. He had never been extremely upbeat, but the thought that he’d been bottling everything up behind the scenes pained you.

After a few moments of silence, he finally turned around to face you, looking you deadpan in the face. It was the first time you’d spoken to him face-to-face in weeks. His eyes looked empty, yet so full of unexplained emotion.

You twiddled with your fingers that were now glossed with sweat from your clammy palms while looking down at your feet. Why were you so nervous? You’ve spoken to him thousands of times.. What was different now? It lingered at the back of your mind; you knew you were too scared to interrupt this this friendship, although deteriorating. At one stage, it had been peaceful, even fun. Though at this point, it had become anything but peaceful.

“If you don’t need anything then I’m leaving.” He turned his back once more, but you refused to see him take another step.

“Wait.” You forced a strengthened tone despite your nerves. “I need to talk to you about something.”

Stepping closer towards him, you get a better look at his expression. His aqua eyes, once filled with so much passion, were now void of emotion.

“Um… I need to ask you something.” You stuttered on your words, heart pounding so loudly that you thought he’d be able to hear it.

Rin sighs, frustrated. He pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “Get to the point already, Yuu.” His patience is waning.

You take in a shallow breath, preparing to finally put your emotions on the line.

“Rin, um… have you been feeling okay lately?”

Shoot. That was such a bad question!

He looked at you as though you were speaking gibberish. His brows furrowed, and his gaze was now somewhat scrutinizing.

“I’ve been fine.” He immediately replied before turning back around. “Since that’s all, I’m leaving.”

No, you weren’t about to let this happen again. You reached out and grabbed his arm in the midst of his step. You wanted to say something, but your throat felt constricted.

To your surprise, he didn’t move your arm away. You knew something was bothering him. He wouldn’t push you away or insult you. It was as though he wanted the comfort of someone else, but he wouldn’t bring himself to ask for it.

Before you knew it, moisture had spread across your eyes, glossing your sight. A warm drop travelled down your cheek, giving way for a wave of tears. It became so quiet that the droplets of your tears tapping onto the ground were audible.

“Please.. don’t leave..” Barely being able to choke your words out, you were doing all you could to keep him listening. “I can’t stand seeing you like this… What happened to you..?”

He didn’t answer.

You continued to pry, raising your voice slightly.

“What happened to us?”

Suddenly, Rin turns around, and yanks his arm from your grasp.

“Are you trying to make me feel guilty? You really don’t know anything about me.” He scoffed. “I was stupid to ever befriend you as a kid. You probably still think I’m content with being second place, don’t you? How pathetic.”

You’d know if he told you. if he took the time to communicate his feelings, to let you hear his troubles. You had no words. What more could you say after that?

Though you did notice one thing; he was still here. He took the battering and didn’t leave. Somewhere in there, Rin you remember is still there. You decide against attacking him with words.

“You’re still here though. You’ve always been here.” Your hand fell down his arm, fingers intertwining with his. “You would’ve gotten rid of me by now if you really thought our friendship was stupid.” Your voice was soft as you spoke, careful not to be too harsh on him.

His eyes widened momentarily. It seems you struck a chord.

“No.. no way. It is stupid.. that’s why.. that’s..” He stuttered; his gaze scattered.

“Rin.. do I have to spell it out for you? I’m not going anywhere. Even if you call me stupid.” You smiled softly, hoping your words would break through the wall he built.

There it was. That look in his eyes that you’ve been yearning to see again for years.

Tears shone in his eyes, adorning a small gleam of light. His lips parted slightly as though he had something to say. He tilted his head and placed it on your shoulder, arms wrapping tightly around your back. You could feel the desperation in his grasp; like he was asking you to never let go. Slinging your arms over his shoulders and around his neck, you felt his breath grazing your neck.

“Why.. Why did you persist..?” He murmurs. Despite all this, Rin can’t seem to fathom why someone like you remained so insistent on digging out his troubles.

“I would never sit by and watch you drown in your own worries. Especially if I know that I can do something about them.” Even though you were holding him in your arms, you felt a little more confident knowing he technically can’t see you saying something so embarrassing.

You shift one arm up to his hair and gently caress it.

“I have no one else..” Your voice shook slightly “You’ve always been there, even when you were mad. Why would I let you slip from in-between my fingers..?”

You hear a sniffle from Rin. “…You’re not going anywhere after that.”

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skipblebee · 4 months ago

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It's another sunny day at Cang Qiong mountain sect. Shang Qinghua has just delivered a bunch of writing materials to Qing Jing as requested by Peak Lord Shen. On his way back one of the disciples stops him and he recognises her to be Ning Yingying, one of the peak lord's favoured disciples. "Shishu," she smiles at him "Shizun is playing songs for us on his guqin! Would you like to stay and listen?"

Shang Qinghua weighs his options and figures he might as well rest his legs, he's got a lot to do once he's back at An Ding Peak and hey!! He might as well get a treat for his delivery!! It was literally a last minute thing that wasn't even FILED for properly but whatever, he thinks, it's not everyday someone would get an invitation to listen to Shen Qingqiu playing his guqin! And from one of his favourite disciples? Oh he's in luck, this is like getting front row tickets to your favourite band!!

So Shang Qinghua makes his way towards a garden close to the disciples' music room, where a bunch of eager students listen to their shizun's wonderful playing. He really is as talented as they say,, nimble fingers gently plucking at each string. You can feel the love and emotion he has for each song pour into how he plays it.

Shang Qinghua leans against a tree as Ning Yingying makes her way to sit next to Luo Binghe, right in front of the crowd, and he can't help but smile at the sight of them. Shen Qingqiu plays a melody that the other peak lord had heard once or twice. Some song about falling in love in spring.

His head sways to the relaxing tune, and he closes his eyes. The cool breeze causes the tree branches to sway, the sound only adding to the charm of the evening.

The song eventually reaches a crescendo. Shang Qinghua, Peak Lord of An Ding, for a moment forgets about his harsh sect sibling and internally praises his skills! For someone as mean and snarky as him, he can play as gentle as the spring breeze itself!

It is when the crescendo of the song is reached that Shang Qinghua's life changes forever. It was just a small detail, and none of the students noticed of course, because none of them were from the 21st century.

But just as the song reached an emotional height, there it was, absolutely unmistakable, a riff he would recognise anywhere, even if years into his new life.

The unmistakable riff of Buddy Holly by Weezer.

His eyes fly open and he nearly stumbles off the tree he was leaning against and onto the ground below.

WEEZER???? Buddy HOLLY???? He was almost certain he made it up, his mind was certainly playing tricks on him!! An auditory hallucinations of sorts maybe!

He looked up at the other peak lord's face, as tranquil as a gentle stream itself! He had blended it into the song so well that it almost sounded like it was a part of the original!!

"P-Pardon me!" He whispers to no one in particular "I should be getting back to my peak now! It's getting pretty late! Thanking the esteemed peak lord for helping me listen to his lovely playing! If he even is a peak lord,,,"

"Shizun!" He hears the disciples pour out their praise once he's done with the song "Shizun's embellishments to the song made it even better than it usually sounds!" The echoes of flattery follow his ears until he's finally out of sight.

He scurries out of there, no one really noticing his absence, and damn near trips and rolls down the entire length of the mountain with all the adrenaline coursing through him. 'Oh my gosh another transmigrator??' his inner monolgue screams 'are we sure I didn't make that up??? System oh my lord ARE YOU THERE??? SYSTEM ??? AREN'T YOU SUPPOSED TO TELL ME IF THERE'S ANOTHER TRANSMIGRATOR HERE?? I THOUGHT I HAD AUTHOR'S PRIVILEGE????? Oh my, maybe that's why people say he's been acting different lately,,, I really have to see for myself sometime. I haven't really interacted with him since the qi deviation..."

Needless to say, the other disciples at Qing Jing weren't phased by the An Ding peak lord mumbling to himself as he scurried down the path, it was a usual occurence anyway. Shang Qinghua on the other hand had a lot to think of once he returned to his peak,,,, this would certainly be,, very interesting,,,,

#the REAL transmigrator reveal #Wrote this at 12am #sleep deprived listening to weezee #I haven't written in actual years I'm sorry if it's not the greatest #Kinda just wrote whatever #i 💖 crackfics #cumplane #svsss #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #shang qinghua #svsss fic #gonna be honest y'all I have no idea how to tag this #beethoughts #crack fic #scum villian self saving system #the scum villain's self saving system

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wanderingsoul6261 · 1 year ago

Text

Stuck with Me

Credit for gif goes to aaronwarner

James Beaufort x Reader

Synopsis: James and Reader are secretly dating. Elaine finds out and started to treat Reader terribly. Reader is an Ellington, sister to Elaine, twin to Alistair. When James finds out what Elaine had been doing, he does to comfort the reader.

Product of a series of requests that had explained similar scenarios.

warning: suggestive themes, but no details. Probably bad grammar and editing. I tried. Finished it in a rush before work. Will probably edit later.

-------

The two of them were honestly surprised that they had been able to keep their relationship a secret as long as they have. James and Y/N both went to a school where a majority of the students were too smart for their own good. Although, it wasn’t even the school that they were surprised about keeping the relationship from. It was their siblings. Y/N was not only a close and confiding friend to Lydia, but she was also an Ellington sibling. A twin to Alistair, older sibling to Elaine.

They were definitely trying to hide things from Elaine. If she were to find out, it would be the end of the world. At least for Elaine that is.

James and Y/N had wondered for some time on what would be the best way to keep this secret. It wasn't like they hated each other, so they couldn't use that. Y/N had in fact spent as much time around James as many others have. They had even considered fabricating a lie. Making up an event in which it would give the two no rhyme or reason not to hate each other.

But then they remember who one, they were related to, and two, who they were friends with. It would have been a difficult one to pull off, no less keep afloat. So the two continued to bounce ideas off of each other, and had finally decided to keep interactions around others to a minimum.

They give each other fleeting glances when passing each other in the hall. If they sit next to each other in a classroom or just anywhere that will allow them, an arm or leg are barely brushing against each other. When addressing each other, they say their names. No nicknames. No usage of ‘hey’ or anything else. Just their names. If they sit on a bench, James allows his arm to rest on the back of it. They continue their normal mannerisms, and maybe that's why no one has caught on just yet to their charades.

James and Y/N had the undivided attention of each other but in some way, they wanted more.

—

Y/N was walking Lydia when They bumped into James, Alistair, Wren and Cyril. The two girls stood shoulder to shoulder.

“I'm just saying. You guy are twins. Don't you have that mind thing that allows her to know what you're thinking? Or when you feel pain?” Cyril flicked Alistair in the forehead. Alistair had looked unamused, but Y/N felt otherwise. An amused smile graced her lips as she glanced momentarily at Lydia.

“Ow.” The monotone voice and stare of Alistair caused a small snicker to come from Y/N. The four boys jumped, caught off guard by their company. Y/N eyes flickered to James, flashing a smile before Cyril pulled her away from her spot next to Lydia.

“The girl of the house. Y/N, seriously. You guys don’t have that twin telepathy thing going on? Did you feel it when I flicked Alistair's forehead?” Y/N looked at him, then her brother.

“I didn't feel anything. Sure you used enough force behind it? It was really light. Like a feather.” Cyril dropped his jaw, not expecting the comeback. “It's okay Cyril. Some women like the light touch of a man.”

“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at her like he was trying to read her.

James smirked as he looked at Y/N. She looked around the small group of people. Wren was waiting for an answer, one of which Alistair didn't want to hear. Lydia now looked just as amused as Y/N did. Then her eyes landed on James. He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking into a small smirk.

“I prefer not to tell.”

“Way to keep a man wondering.” Cyril drew Y/N's attention back to him.

“You're not really a man, Cyril. A boy, maybe. But a toddler fits the image better.” Cyril took a stagger back, a hand to his chest. “You wound me so.”

“Good. You can ask James and Lydia the same question.” James instantly shook his head.

“I don't know. Do you want me to flick your forehead and see if I can feel it?” James looked at his sister.

“Do you want me to flicker your forehead and see if I can feel it?” James flashed his sister a cheeky grin before turning back to Cyril.

“You can do it.” Cyril looked at Lydia, who glared at him, albeit playfully. He shook his head.

“I prefer life.”

“Good choice. Anyways, I'm off to class.” Lydia bid the group goodbye. Cyril, Wren, and Alistair were next to leave.

“Alistair!” Y/N called out to her brother. He looked back. “Don't let the toddler pester you too much. They can be pesky little buggers. Can't they?” He flashed her a smile at the same time Cyril turned back and flipped her the finger.

Once they were gone, Y/N turned to James. He was already smiling at her.

“Do you like soft touches?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, his smile turning to a smirk.

“Wouldn't you like to know.” His hands itched to touch her. James looked up and down the hallway, making sure no one was there before pulling her into an empty room.

He pushed her up against the wall. His hands entangled themselves in her hair. Y/N looked up at him, her fingers combing through his hair. She brushed his hair out of his face.

“Playing a dangerous game every second both of us are in here.” Y/N said.

“I had to have a few seconds with you.”

“Well since both of us are in here, kiss me already.” James pulled her to him, capturing her lips in a kiss. He took it slow, holding her against him. She put one arm around his neck, while her other hand moved up his shirt, settling on his waist. James sucked in a breath at the touch, before moving his lips from hers and up along her jaw.

“How’s this for soft touches?” He whispered.

“Mm. Too soft.” James pulled back enough to look into her face. Y/N smirked at him. A low rumble could be heard on his throat, as he captured her lips into a searing kiss, pushing her further against the wall.

And when they finally left the room, little did they know that someone watched them exit minutes later, both looking slightly disheveled, and exchanging a few chaste kisses in what they thought to be a quiet and empty hallway, before going their own way.

—

Over the course of the next few days, Y/N had received glares and mistreatment from some of the students on campus. James had tried talking to her about her sullen mood lately, but had gotten nothing. Lydia had even tried to talk to her, but Y/N wouldn't even talk to her about it.

And she felt bad, but going to a school where one person was always out to get the other, she didn't know who would believe her. Even if she knew that her boyfriend and best friend were the ones most likely to do just that.

So she received the mistreatment and said nothing. Most of it came from Elaine, her sister. The sneers, the ‘accidental’ bumps, the nasty comments. All from her own sister.

Y/N could make an assumption, as she watched her sister talk to James from the end of the hallway. Her sister brushed up against James, her hands moving his hair out of his face just as Y/N does in private. He had shrunk away from her, a slight look of discomfort on his face. She watched as James politely excused himself, before walking the opposite way from where Y/N was standing.

Elaine knew about James and Y/N, and now part of Maxton Hall did too.

She watched as Elaine stood for several seconds, watching James walk away, before she turned her head and caught Y/N watching her. Elaine sent her a sneer, before starting to walk towards her. Y/N waited for her and whatever kind of mistreatment that she would bring.

“Do you really think that someone like him could love someone like you?” She asked. Y/N stared at her.

“We are sisters Elaine. We have the same blood and genes.”

“He will be mine. James will forget about you, and he will come running to me when that happens.” Elaine had a smug look on her face as she spoke to Y/N. “It's expected Y/N. No one could or would ever love you.” Y/N knew at that moment that Elaine was also talking about herself. Elaine finally turned to walk away.

“Oh. And Y/N.” She stopped and turned. “We aren't sisters.” The last little bit of Y/N's heart crumbled as she watched Elaine walk away. Her hand reached into her pocket, and with shaky fingers, she got ahold of their chauffeur. Y/N wanted to leave.

—

Y/N had opted out of going to class, and hasn’t been in for several days. Their parents were away for business trips and even when they were home, she played it off that she was either sick or had a migraine, which wasn’t too hard to pull off. Alistair had brought home her homework. Lydia and James had also kept her in the loop about assignments, but other than that, she didn’t speak much to either of them.

Y/N had finally told Alistair what had been going on and how Elaine had been treating her. This also, therefore, had spilt the beans about Y/N’s and James' secret relationship. Y/N had thought that Alistair would have had an issue with it, just as Elaine did, but if anything, he was happy for his sister and best friend. Elaine wasn’t good for James anyway.

I told him

Y/N stared down at her phone, looking at her brother’s message to herself. She laid in bed, her face buried in the pillow, sullied with tears as she thought about the last few days and how she managed the situation. It was the wrong way to do so, and she knew it. James and Lydia should have been told, instead of being ignored in the way that they were currently.

She deserved to be hated. They had every right to be bad at her. Instead, they were the opposite.

Lydia had also messaged her, being gentle about it, even if she was upset that Y/N felt that she couldn’t go to her about Elaine. Lydia never liked her to begin with.

Then there was James.

He had only sent Y/N one message.

I’m on my way. J.M.B

She had smiled at his message, finally sending him one back.

<3 Your F/M/L initials

Y/N had only waited a little bit before James was bursting through her bedroom door. He stopped in the doorway.

“Y/N.” His eyes traveled over her face, taking in the appearance of her tear stained face. “Oh love.” James hurried over to the bed, kneeling down on the floor. He brought her face into his hands, using his thumbs to wipe away any tears on her face. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know who would believe me.”

“I would have. You know that.” He said. James searched her eyes, seeing nothing but pain and regret. “How long?” He asked. Y/N swallowed thickly, averting her eyes and face away from him. He grabbed her chin with his hand, moving her face so that she looked at him again. “How long, Y/N?”

She stared at him for several seconds, before looking at his neck, avoiding eye contact.

“A week. More or less.” Her voice broke, remembering how she was treated. It would have been different had it not been her sister that treated her in the way that she did. But it wasn’t different, and it was her sister, so there was no changing it. Y/N sat up on her bed, her legs hanging over the side. James grabbed her hands, holding them in his own. He brought them up to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“What did she do?” He asked. Y/N pulled her hands away from his, rubbing her eyes. James settled his hands on her thighs, rubbing his hands up and down them to help soothe her nerves.

“The normal thing a bully does. Sneers. Snide comments. Bumping into them. Shoved me in private, degraded me here at home…” She trailed off, her hands settling on her thighs next to his own. James grabbed her hands again, rubbing his thumbs against her knuckles as he listened to her.

“Is there something else?” She was silent for several moments, trying to find a way to phrase it.

“I shouldn’t let this bother me because I really don’t like her right now, but she told me that we weren’t sisters.” James stared at her in silence for several moments. She stared at anything but him, feeling small in the current situation. “Also told me that she would have you at some point. That you would basically grow tired of me and go to her to give you what I can’t.” she mumbled softly.

“And what can’t you give me?” he asked. “Because you have given me all that I need and more.” James reassured her. He stood up, settled his hands on her cheeks, and brought her into a searing kiss, before pushing her back on the bed.

“What are you doing James?” she asked, staring up at him, confused.

“I’m going to show you how much I appreciate you.” He pushed the blankets off of her. “How much you make me happy.” James looped his fingers in the shorts and panties she wore for sleeping, pulling them down. “That there is no other woman I want other than you.” James pushed her shirt up slightly, laid on the bed, and began pressing kisses to her stomach, moving down. Soft kisses were pressed to her navel, and then on the inside of her thighs. His eyes never left hers, wanting to take in her appearance as he showed her just how much he loved her. One arm looped around one of her thighs, while the other searched for her hand. Her fingers looped with his. “You’re stuck with me, sweetheart.”

-----

taglist: @honethatty12 @lifeonawhim @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 @maryvibess @wheredidmyeyesgo @imasimptoowth @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

#james beaufort #maxton hall #james beaufort x reader #maxton hall: the world between us

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corrodedcoffins-blog · 9 months ago

Text

Getting Together

main masterlist

regulus black x potter!reader universe

word count: 1.4 k

note: been sitting on this for a while lol

takes place during the marauders 6th year and Reg's 5th

Sat criss-cross on the bathroom counter, Y/n held her hair out of her face in a make/shift ponytail while she finished her eyeliner, Sirius was sat on the toilet lid while he waited for his turn with the girl’s eyeliner.

The gang™ was getting ready for a Hufflepuff party, they may be kind and hard-working students but damn that house could party.

“I probably won’t stay long, I've got a tummy ache.” “Well, I’m sure Remus would be willing to come back here with you.” – “What about Remus?” James said, walking into their shared bathroom to brush his teeth before the party (planning to kiss Lily, though he will most likely fail once again)

“Nothing.” Y/n said casually before going back to her eyeliner, hitting her brother’s hand out of the way of opening their mirror cabinet.

James asks, with his mouth full of toothpaste and his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, “Are we balding?”

“‘We’?” She looked at him through the mirror and planned to tell him how thick-headed he sounded, but got distracted by her small bald spot. “Wait- do you’ve the same?” “Yeah,-” “I think it’s just our hairlines.” “You think?”

Sirius may have a brother but, much to his own dismay, never had that sibling dynamic with Regulus, they loved each other but due to their upbringing they showed their love quietly. So he always found James and Y/n’s back and forth moments as foreign as the rest of the boys did since neither Peter or Remus had siblings.

The group of five entered the Hufflepuff common room, James immediately went to the drinks, dragging Remus with him, while Sirius dragged Peter and the girl with him to the dance floor. The two others eventually brought the rest their own cups, Y/n danced but it felt like whenever she looked up she noticed her newest roommate.

This past summer break Sirius and Regulus run away and have since been living at the Potter’s, which both twins were relieved about, they knew about the Blacks.

Regulus was nursing his drink while leaning against the fireplace, his long fingers wrapped around the cup, mumbling some sarcastic comment to Barty, until they linked eyes through the room full of wasted students. Though it felt like it broke as fast as it formed when Sirius tapped her on the shoulder and informed her of the girl Peter was about to ask to dance, pushing him aside she began to fix Peter’s hair by brushing pieces out of his face and flattening his shirt.

“Go get ‘er, Pete!” “Okay.” She laughed at his awkwardness. Peter could always make her laugh, though that could be said about all the boys, Peter had the type of humour that even he himself didn’t know when he was being funny and the biggest laughs came when he wasn’t trying.

Overall the party went well, Sirius didn’t leave too long after that interaction, Remus going with him for whatever fake reason he gave this time, Pete ending up leaving with that girl, and James after not winning over Evans yet again, went back to the dorm no doubt unknowingly interrupting a moment between Sirius and Remus.

But Y/n couldn’t bring herself to go back to the dorm just yet, she liked the fresh air and the time away from the boys. It was when she went farther down a trail for a smoke that she saw the black-headed boy she’s grown to know well after the summer.

“Hey, Reg.” “Hello.”

Regulus was just getting comfortable around her when school came around again, one of the many reasons it took so long to be comfortable around the older girl was since he could remember he had liked her. The summer after Sitius’ first year he showed Reg some pictures of his new friends, and the second he saw Y/n he was gone.

The girl walked closer to the bench Regulus was sitting on and sat herself next to him, neither’s eyes leaving their view of the black lake for more than a couple seconds.

“My brother and your friends just abandoned you?” “Sirius went back to the dorm, had a stomach bug and Renus went with him an-” “Those two finally?” “How’d you know about that?” “Sirius is my brother and I know him rather well.” “I guess you do… Want-?” She gestured for him to grab her cigarette, he shook his head ‘no’ which was an uncommon answer around here, but it sorta made sense that Regulus wouldn’t, she supposes he’s proper that way.

“So what about your friends?” “Pandora doesn’t really do parties, and I’m sure Barty and Evan are off somewhere.” “Well I’m glad we both got abandoned.” She looked up to face the crescent moon, not thinking too hard about how Regulus would interpret her words. She liked when he did. All summer she had made comments like that one, she enjoyed the blush that would rise to the tips of his ears.

“Why’s that?” “I like being with you.” The boy’s head shoots up from it staring at the grass beneath their feet to look at her beside him.

“Y-you do?” “Yeah!...” Her pause made Regulus assure that he read that ‘being with you’ thing wrong, because of course she wouldn’t date him; she’s a year older, the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen, as well as the nicest. But in actuality, Y/n has been trying to hint that she likes Regulus since the beginning of the summer. Yet the boy was most oblivious to people truly caring about him, he didn’t believe it possible; that only made her want to show him even more.

“Reg, I really like being with you..” She said, expectantly, enunciating every word to get it through his self-loathing skull. It was when she raised her eyebrows at him that it hit him, he was not imagining it. Not at all.

“Really? Me?” “Yes.” “Oh… I did not expect that.” Whether it was meant to be said out loud or not, it made Y/n laugh so Regulus was thankful he did, he liked her laugh. Still unmoving, Y/n makes the first move yet again.

She grabbed the end of his Slytherin tie, twirling it between her finger tips before grabbing it in a fist to pull the younger boy in. Her lips covered his own, gently they moved together, her hand went to his and placed them on her waist and then hers went to the side of his neck, all while holding her cigarette in the other. The taste of said cigarette lingered in her mouth adding to the addicting taste of her and her almost gone strawberry lip gloss.

Finally pulling back, both slightly out of breath, they took a moment to gather themselves. The Potter girl took a final drag before putting it out with her heel.

“I gotta get going, Reg.” “Oh-” “If you're free after classes tomorrow I’d love to meet back here.. We could talk, or just be with each other.” “Yeah. I would really like that.” “Good. Okay, I’ve really got to go though, James gets worried when any of us stay out too late.”

She waited a second before turning on her heels to begin her walk, though the sound of footsteps stopped her in her tracks and Regulus came up next to her, “As you mentioned it’s late, it would be the gentlemanly thing to do to walk you to your common room.” “Well gee, what a gentleman I’ve got on my hands.”

Their conversation flowed as they walked the long walk to Gryffindor Tower. And though they got plenty of time together Y/n couldn't help the slight disappointment when they arrived at the portrait hole.

“This is my stop.” “Yes.” “I don’t feel very gentlemanly now that you have to walk all the way to the dungeons now, why don’t I walk you?” “Then I would walk you back here and we would be in a terrible loop.” “The loops not so terrible if I’m spending the whole time with you.”

If another student were to hear their conversation, see the love stricken grin on the girl's face, and the red face of Regulus they would most likely throw up from the sheer cheesy-ness. And to make matters for the state of the blush on his face worse, Y/n placed a soft peck on Regulus’ lips one last time.

“Now get outta her, I’m not allowed to let other houses hear the password, especially not snakes like yourself.” That sentence from just about any other Gryffindor would have offended him, but everything Y/n said felt like it came from a good place.

“Okay. Goodnight.” “Night, Reg.” She laughed out, due to his seriousness. She then held on to her word and didn’t say the password until he was out of ear shot, watching him as he left.

#regulus black #regulus black x potter!reader #regulus black x female reader #regulus black x fem!reader #regulus black x reader #regulus black fic #regulus black fluff #regulus black fanfiction #james potter x sister!reader #marauder!reader #regulus x reader #regulus x fem!reader #regulus x potter!reader #marauders #james potter #background wolfstar

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 15 days ago

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wolves and ravens

Recently I learned about the mutualistic relationship between wolves and ravens, which I thought was really interesting 🧐

Ravens will lead wolves to prey (since birds have a good vantage point), wolves learn ravens’ vocal cues to know where food is. Then wolves will hunt, and slice into the meat with their teeth + claws, and ravens will eat the wolves’ leftovers/carrion. There are cases where they play together by chasing each others’ tails, or the ravens will interact with wolf pups by playing tug-of-war with sticks, flying overhead with a stick to encourage the pups to jump, or playfully tugging on the pups’ tails. It’s even theorized by some scientists that individual ravens develop a special bond with individual wolves in a pack!!

Now to translate this into Twst terms—

Initially, I had written Miss Raven to be too scared of Jack (just based on his intimidating looks) to approach and speak with him, so she mostly keeps her distance. Jack is aware that she's there but doesn't know wtf she wants from him. But now I'm thinking wait, this could actually work with the irl wolf-raven mutualism stuff. Maybe Jack sees her as a little kid (or she reminds him of how his own younger siblings would tail him back home) or he sees her speaking with his dorm members and gets it in his head he has to try to be polite to her because of that association. He finds himself helping her even though he doesn't mean to be friendly or kind, like telling other students to buzz off if they're bullying her or picking up stuff she dropped. What a tsundere-- Then perhaps Raven feels she doesn't want to feel indebted to Jack, but she also has too much pride to just outright thank him (the true NRC way, lol). So instead, she does little things from a distance to help him out as well, like leaving a bottle of water at his desk or leaving a book she found about bodybuilding?? If we ever get to meet the Howl siblings, maybe Raven can be good at dealing with them, like how ravens play with wolf cubs.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #Jack Howl #Raven Crowley

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ch4nb4ng · 6 months ago

Text

Expect the Unexpected

Pairing: Han Jisung X afab!reader

Word count: 9.7k

Genre: Childhood friends to lovers (stoned college edition

Warnings: 18+ explicit minors do not interact. Substance use, sexual acts under the influence of substance use, Kissing, naked bodies, mentions of genitals, fingering, handjob, orgasm, mentions of semen

Tag list: @seo--changbin @j-0ne25 @cb97whoree

@kpopsstuffs

Note: HEY guys, its been a while, and like actually a while this time.... Had this sitting in the draft for almost a year. Life has very much gotten in the way but i am back hopefully, with the aim of engaging in writing when I feel like and no pressuring myself. Anyways, it's nice to be back and I hope you enjoy.

Summary: There was a blizzard, resulting in your college dorm being blocked from all human interaction. Things are about to, however change when your childhood best friend, and wall neighbour comes over and has other things in mind to pass the time with weed included as one of them.

The first time living away from your family and by yourself was an experience that you very much valued. No curfews, no worrying about what your parents were going to say when you’ve had several drinks at a party, and definitely no nagging to make your bed everyday. Make no mistake, you loved your parents and siblings a lot, it was just nice sometimes to have the complete privacy that was your dorm room every now and then.

There were moments that you did become homesick. On the contrary to having your own private, personal space, especially during the trying moments of completing long winded assignments, studying for exams, or even just having the feeling of familiarity when you hugged somebody that was your blood. There were always pros and cons to living an independent college life. At this current moment in time, you were experiencing one of the more annoying parts of living in a college building.

Deep into the winter seasons of the year, while also living in a state that was known for having extreme weather patterns during this time of the year was your least favorite part. Once the news alerted ‘warning, blizzard storm approaching in the next 48 hours,’ you knew that the college would be sending an official email, urging students to stay in the dorms, and barricade all exits.

This was where you were currently at.

Lying in your bed, phone up to your face as you reassured your family through facetime that you were fine and had no plans of leaving anytime soon.

“You guys know the drill,” you smiled, “I’m fine, two days in and I am alive and well, just a little bored.”

“Okay well don’t forget that Jisung’s mother and I got those rooms next to each other so you guys always have a little bit of company.”

“Yes mom I know,” you laughed, “I might text him later. He had an assignment due this afternoon and I don’t want to bother him.”

“Okay love, we will talk to you later.”

“Love you too, bye.”

The sound representing the end of the call rang through the speaker of your phone. The object fell on your chest as you let out a loud sigh, your boredom growing with each second.

Jisung. Han Jisung was someone that could be labeled as many different things to you. Friend, confidant, best friend, study buddy; home. Jisung was the jack of all trades in your book.

Knowing each other since the two of you were 10, meeting at a weekend competition of playing mixed teams basketball bloomed into a relationship you didn't know was even possible to have with a man. Jisung was the friend that kind of just stuck, even planning to go to the same college as you. It was a packaged deal, you and him, but it made you laugh, because the two of you could not be more of the opposite. Jisung was the shyer type. Although you met through sporting engagements, that was more something that his parents put him into to see what he liked. He was very intelligent, a strong preference to have his head in the books rather than going out to a new party every weekend. Make no mistake, Jisung was a very polite individual, always talking to those that gave the time. However, he was much more comfortable with people that he knew. In contrast, you were a social butterfly, able to make friends every corner you turned. Parties and drinking every weekend; anywhere but the was where the majority of your time was spent.

Therefore, when all the buildings on campus were closed, it drove you crazy. There was nothing that could be hated more than being forced to stay inside in your eyes. The confinement always made you reconsider why it was here, in this state, that you chose to attend college. But it was when you heard a knock on the door that you were reminded why. Leg flopping out of your bed sheets, they dragged you to the door, your body sprinkled in warmth when you opened it to your kind looking friend who happened to be smiling back. Your body turned to the side, hand out as he strolled into your apartment, plopping down on the couch like it was his own. You quickly followed, taking the spot next to him as you turned to face him.

“Are you bored yet?”

“Of course I am,” you sigh, walking in front of Jisung as you walk into the living room of your apartment and sitting on the couch, head in your hands, leaning forward so much that you could almost fall off the couch “as if it took you this long to realise.”

“Y/n, the email was only sent out 4 hours ago.”

“Yeah but there was supposed to be a party tonight at Changbin’s frat,” you whined, lips fully pouted, “I really wanted to go.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, placing his hands behind his head, legs kicked out on the small table in front of him, “it’s a real shame that the party is canceled.”

Your best friend managed to avoid eye contact, voice dripping with sarcasm. To be truthful, you knew that even though he would go with you, to make sure you're safe of course, and DEFINITELY for that reason only, Jisung would never choose to willingly go to such a party. It wasn’t that he was a complete prude little innocent boy, no. There had been a multitude of times where you could hear him, or the other girls that failed to stay quiet and not echo through the paper thin dorm walls. Jisung just simply wasn’t the type to go out to parties, especially when everyone there was a slobbering mess on one substance or another, especially you. There was a feeling that if you were merely a stranger to him, Jisung would most likely, outside of classes, be a ghost. A myth that supposedly walks down the hallways of your college. Seeing as the two of you were opposite in that regard, you tried to respect Jisung as much as possible. Not bringing your bong, joints, or excessive amounts of alcohol whenever he came over, because you knew if the shoe was on the other foot, he would also do the same. Jisung only had the occasional puff anyway, much less than you, so the need to have it around constantly felt unnecessary.

“Try not to ooze with excitement,” you raised your eyebrows, a fake smile plastering across your lips as you failed to see his attitude change. Good old Jisung for you.

“I’ll try my best.”

“Anyway,” you replied, leaning forward and grabbing the TV remote, pressing the small red power button in the top right corner, watching the plasma screen light up with the logo belonging to Netflix. You turn again to the man beside you, a warmth feeling in your chest at how placid he looked, patiently waiting for you to put something on.

“Is there anything you would like to watch for the next 12 hours?”

Yes, 12 hours. That was you being optimistic that this storm would be quick.

“Hmm,” Jisung hummed, bringing his index finger and thumb to his chin, thinking about what to watch, “there isn’t anything I’ve been keeping up with.”

“Ah I see. Shall we just scroll until we find something we like?”

“Sounds like a great idea.”

Clicking on your profile, the first row of TV shows were ‘Watch it again,’ followed by ‘Top hits for Y/n.’ Nothing really caught your eye, or his seeing as he would say something if he did. It wasn’t until your ‘continue watching for y/n’ that you gasped, loud. The word ‘Bridgerton’ has popped up in continuing. At first you were confused. Although you were an avid lover of that show, you had not watched it recently. It wasn’t until you selected it that you realized a new season had come out. Jisung remained puzzled, seeing as this was not something he had a remote interest in watching.

“Oh my god Jisung can we-”

“No man,” he complained, “you know this is the last thing I would want to watch.”

“Please,” you begged, placing your hands in the form of a prayer, remote still in hand, “it’s so good I beg of you please to just consider. I’ll do anything.”

“Ugh fine,” he hissed, “but I cannot be 100% sober for this shit.”

Your eyebrow furrowed, displaying a look of confusion. This was the thing you would expect someone like Jisung to say.

“Hmm ok,” you hummed, still slightly confused, “I’ll get my stash of vodka.”

“Hmmm no,” he shrugged, a slightly suggestive glimmer on his face, “something that will be long-lasting, if you’re catching my drift.”

Jisung raised his eyebrows repeatedly, leaving your mind to imply one substance only. Weed.

“You want to smoke, really?”

“Yes y/n, I want to smoke weed, is that ok with you?”

“Of course it is,” you reassured, “you know that if you were here or not I would probably do it anyway.”

“Okay.”

“Done.”

“Okay, and we have to watch from the beginning or I will go back to my room.”

“Yes yes okay fine,” you leaned over, pressing a grateful kiss on his cheek, “you’re the best. I’ll get my stash now.”

You scurried off to your room, quickly, opening the small draw on your side table next to your bed. Your stash, the prized possession that was the calm before the storm. Smoking in your downtime was something that you very much looked forward to, especially if you were unnecessarily stressed out. Your face lit up and the clouds of dark green hue clouded the plastic bag that was in your sight, fingers grasping the edge as you wiggled back to your original spot. Although you agreed, it was strange of your friend to want to just smoke out of boredom. The only time you had seen him do it was at small gatherings, and even then, it was one puff and done, usually followed by heavy chest hitting coughs. It always made you laugh. It also made you feel bad, knowing that if he didn’t hang around with you, he probably wouldn’t do these kinds of things. Jisung was an adult who could make his own decisions, but there was always part of you that thought about him, his family; would they approve of him doing this? It was a lot to think about sometimes.

It was Jisung’s turn to hold the remote, flicking back to season 1 episode 1, before scooching closer to you. Jisung was keen to get in on the action, something you were definitely not used to. He went to reach for the paper, but you grabbed him by the wrist, making him pause for a moment.

“Jisung, are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” he smiled, unsure why you were asking such a question, “it’s not the first time I’ve done it y/n, relax.”

“Yeah I know,” you shrugged, “it’s just, I’ve only seen you smoke once, and you looked like you were about to cough up your lungs.”

“Oh,” he sighed, looking away in embarrassment, “you saw that?”

“Unfortunately, I did.”

“Yeah well I can do it,” he barked, somewhat getting defensive, pointing at the TV to deflect from his deficits “you’re making me watch this shit.”

“Okay okay,” you whined, letting go of his wrist, “but please let me show you how to roll and smoke a joint properly so you don’t actually hurt yourself.”

The two of you giggled simultaneously, resulting in Jisung reluctantly nodding in agreement. He watched closely as he watched you open both bags, paper on the right, weed on the left.

“Okay so,” you began to speak, “firstly,” you paused again, using your index and middle finger on your right hand to slide into the plastic, “I like to slide my fingers in like this, touching the least amount of paper possible.”

Jisung pushed his lenses right up to his face, making sure his concentration was avid; missing a step was not an option for him. Once the sheet was out of paper, you placed it on top of the plastic. You like to take pride in your work, especially being a part time stoner, of your supplies. Seeing as it cost you a significant amount, it felt wrong to not get the best out of your product.

“Then,” you continued, “you get the bag with the goods, and I like to,” pausing again, opening the bag and grabbing one cluster, “just crush it in my fingers as small as I can, and sprinkle it in a line across the center.”

He nodded again, observing how smooth your fingers were, fingertips sprinkling green across the white square placed in the table.

“Are you following?”

“Of course,” he nodded, furrowing his eyebrows to show his concentration. Jisung swallowed a nervous gulp, remembering that he really had no idea what he was going to do when he coughed his lungs up one more time. Yes, he was concentrating on how you did it, but he couldn’t help it. His cognitions were descending into the gutter, especially watching the two fingers he tended to use when he was in lewd acts himself. It made him nervous.

Sure, there were intrusive thoughts about you being a part of his fantasies and desires, but Jisung knew better than to act on something that came from pure lust. Instead, pressing his lips together, attempting to stifle the giggle that threatened to erupt from his lips. You, however, were too smart to not notice him suppressing his laughter. Your elbow nudged his side, a sheepish gaze as you began to question him.

“What’s so funny?”

“What,” he questioned, puffing his cheeks and shaking his head, patting your arm, “keep going.”

You decided to shrug it off, not letting his immaturity obstruct you from your prized possession. Next was the rolling. Lifting the paper with the utmost precaution, the material was brought to your lips, tongue sticking out as your lips lay a thin layer of saliva to coat the edge of the paper.

“See what I did with my tongue?”

‘Oh god,’ was all Jisung could think, mind once again heading straight to the gutter. All he could think about was what your tongue, if it was positioned under a different appendage, how different it could be. His testosterone was raging, but once again, he knew better. To Jisung, nothing could be worse than putting his own selfish wants ahead of your friendship. However, the longer he stared at you practically making out with the joint, licking it up and down, side to side, making sure the two ends stuck together, the harder it became to push his thoughts away from such dirty crevices of his mind. The torture was over for him once you withdrew the now complete joint from your lips. You were satisfied with how it turned out, a smile of approval, and a hint of arrogance plastered on your face.

“And that’s how you do it. Now your turn.”

“Ok,” he sighed, “swap spots with me so I can do it.”

“Yes sir,” you mumbled, playfully rolling your eyes you obeyed, allowing your best friend to now sit in front of the two bags. He followed your steps with ease, using great precision with his fingers to eject the weed and paper from each plastic container. He was natural. Only the two fingers, being the same ones you, strategically rolling the two digits back and forth. He was swift, nimble, adjectives you normally liked to use when you felt the touch of a man. It was your turn to swallow nervously, a small pit of arousal brewing in your lower abdomen as the small pelts of green substance dissipated across the center of the paper, just like you did. Holy shit, how could something as simple as rolling a joint be so attractive? Jisung brought a hand to his hair, running it quickly through the brown mop to get it out of his face, aiming to let no obstacles get in his way. He gave you one look, a gaze of concern when he noticed your eyes glued to his hands.

“You okay?”

Your eyes shot straight to his, attempting to not be mesmerized by the joyful expression covering his features. Fuck, why was his smile having such an impact on you right now? He chuckled, assuming that you were just playing around, but in reality, you were definitely distracted by the attractiveness of your friend with a sudden fresh washed mop of brown hair, glasses, and shining complexion of the side of his face as the light from the window cascaded across the high points of his cheeks. You faked a smile, nodding as you egged him on to continue. Panic began to settle in however when you saw the bare tip of his tongue coating the corner of the white material. Holy shit, he really was a natural. Licking the edge right across in one swift motion, not using too much saliva, yet still using enough. It was almost offensive how much better his joint looked compared to yours. But that was just what Jisung was: a perfectionist with little effort in trying to attain said perfection. He didn’t stray too much out of the norm, yet when he did try something, he was always good at it from the first try. Sometimes it made you wonder what other things he would be good at. But that was for another time, with a similar mindset in the fact that a brief thought of sexual fantasy was not worth more than your friendship. Especially if he didn't reciprocate, the awkwardness after would be something you most definitely could not handle.

“Woah,” you gasped, grasping the joint out of his hand, intensely observing it from each angle, “I knew you would be good at this.”

Your best friend beamed at your approval, eagerly waiting for the next step.

“Oh my lighter, I’ll go grab it now.”

You forgot before, but this gave you time to completely subtract those devil filled thoughts of Jisung by not looking at him for a brief moment. It worked, because as soon as you opened the drawer and saw your lighter, all you could focus on was lighting that shit up.

Coming back to the living room once more, you placed the fire breathing object on the table, offering Jisung to go first. He looked hesitant, unsure how or where he should start. It was adorable when Jisung was like this, because he was clueless not very often. You decided to pick it back up, pressing the flicker down once to ignite the flame.

“Do you want to go first, or would you like me to go first?”

“Uhm,” he hummed, “I think you should go first, you know, show me how to do this shit properly.”

“Okay,” you chuckled, letting go of the flicker on the lighter, handing it over to him, “well I usually don’t light my own joints so would you do me the honors?”

“Of course,” he purred, the smoothness of his tone delivering a sudden pulse to your core. You leant forward, completely forgetting that your clothing was completely revealing by all means. The looseness of your long sleeve white shirt was telling, the action of leaning forward exposing the subtlety of your cleavage. You could see Jisung’s eyes travel straight to them, but only for a brief moment. He was trying to be as respectful as he could, but it was impossible when your chest was right there. His thumb dragged with ease, flame luminous as he brought the orange tipped flame to the edge of your joint. The tip turned dark immediately, and the taste of the herb came with that. The sensation was immediate, as you grabbed the joint with two fingers, pulling the object away from your lips and letting the warmth of the smoke spilling, down your chest, and back up again, eyes fluttering shut as you puffed the smoke from your lips, the feeling of nostalgia hitting you.

Jisung watched you in awe, amazed at how easily smoking came to you. He wanted to try so bad. He wanted to prove to you that he could do something that you did not expect of him. But he was patient, waiting for you to open your eyes before he started.

“Mmmm,” you hummed in pure bliss, lifting your eyelids slightly, “that is some good shit.”

“Yeah?”

“Yessss,” you hissed, grabbing onto his hands holding the lighter, sliding it out of his hand “your turn. Place the joint between your lips and lean forward.”

Jisung did as he was told, adjusting his positioning to being abnormally close to you. You didn’t pay much mind, the small flame igniting once again, but you paused, almost forgetting that he in fact did now know what he was doing.

“Ok so once I light this,” you paused, using your free hand to squeeze his jaw, “are you listening?”

His eyes widened at your sudden touch, a small nod which was obstructed by your somewhat firm grasp.

“Ok so once I light this, take a small breath in, hold for a second, and blow it out.”

“Yes maam,” he smiled, looking deep into your eyes before you passed him the bud, waiting for him to grasp it between his two fingers. When he does, still keeping his eyes on you, simultaneously feeling your brain drop slightly at how intense his gaze was in this very moment, lips forming into the shape of an o as the paper came to his lips, taking the smallest puff, and blowing it out. You were impressed, seeing this was the first time he smoked anything without coughing his lungs out. A smile came to your lips, proud of your best friend in the moment.

“Woah,” he sighed, finally breaking his stare, eyes changing towards the blunt. His chest descended as he took another puff, turning back to face the tv as his back gently slid into the couch.

“How was that?”

“Is it crazy that I already feel more relaxed than before?”

His response made you giggle, glad he was enjoying himself.

“I told you,” sighing as you snatched the blunt from his grip, taking a long drag, “I only smoke the high quality stuff.”

“Sure do,” he growled, sinking deeper and deeper into the couch. Jisung grabbed the remote, pressing play on the TV, greeted by a girl in a royal style gown. He forgot that it was Bridgerton that got him here in this predicament.

***

It did not take much for the two of you to feel the consequences of smoking. One thing you hated to admit was that you craved the presence of someone next to you when under the influence. But not just like in your orbit no. Like needing a lack of personal space. To be suffocated. Which is why the two of you were sitting the way you were now. Your legs atop of his own, head buried into his chest, with your arms wrapped around his torso.

The intrusive thoughts always won when you were high, which is how your fingertips came to be not just on your best friend, but under his shirt, skin to skin contact. You couldn’t deny that the texture of his defined build, muscles budding at each ridge was hard to miss.

Bridgerton had been playing, but if anything, at this point, it had become background noise, the main noise becoming the tension that thickened between the two of you with each passing minute. Although the relationship was close,the idea of intimacy was never something that had come up as a thought. Sober you, and sober him, would never do such a thing. Feeling that maybe it would cross a boundary.

But the usual thought did not cross your mind. Or his for that matter, Jisung’s digits generously spread across the outside of your thigh, dangerously close to your behind. It felt nice, honestly. Yes, you had your fair share of one night stands. Male attention followed you, easily, whether you were looking for it or not. With that being said, however, it had been a while since you remembered what a real man's touch felt like. Especially your best friend. Being a biology major, Jisung was consistently practical in the lab, using his hands in the most intricate ways. Whether looking at a small piece of bacteria in a microscope, or dissecting an organ of some sort, he was always using his hands, and boy, was that evident when you felt the texture of his callous palms spreading across the back of your leg.

The puffing came to a halt, joint burning down halfway to its bud, but it was enough to heighten your senses. The two of you looked at each other, eyelids a little more droopy than usual as the both of you giggled, looking back at the TV. By the time the two of you were actually paying attention to the storyline, Daphne and Simon were getting married.

“So what’s the premises?”

“Premises?” You giggled, finding humor in your best friend’s speaking mishap.

“Yeah like,” he paused, maneuvering your body to be closer to his, leaving now no room on the couch between the two of you, “like what’s the show about.”

“It’s a period romance show based on a series of books.”

“Ohh, I thought you didn't like to read, you fucking nerd.”

“Oi,” you nudged him, completely missing the side of his arm and falling onto his chest, “I don't, that’s why I'm watching the show instead.”

“Right, anyway, go on.”

“Right, so Daphne and Simon basically pretended to be together so this other guy, creepy as fuck, wouldn’t have to marry her. But then they realized they developed feelings for each other but are both inendial about it so they're discussing the topic on their wedding day and just going through with it because it was too late for them to change their mind.” If either of you did not see the irony in this situation.

“That literally made no fucking sense,” Jisung sighed, using his free hand to scratch the back of his head, “but to be honest, I really can’t concentrate on anything you’re saying.”

“Damnnn,” you gasped, leaning up to look at him, “you’re high.”

“Yeah pfft,” Jisung hummed, keeping his glazed eyes focused on you, “I feel like I can just say or do anything right now.”

“That’s the beauty of smoking Ji,” you smiled, turning away and facing the screen. It was at this point that married TV couples were in their honeymoon suite. If you were being honest, it was hard to keep up with the dialogue due to the speed and the actual content being in old english. It was much less difficult to follow the visuals, their facial expressions, how they spoke. It was still captivating, watching the two actors get close and closer, right until their lips met. As they continued, the room felt silent yet tense. The two of you watched adamantly as things began to heat up, Simon assisting Daphne in undressing herself. It was then that you felt Jisung adjust himself under your legs, brushing him off of you as he sunk back into the couch. You thought it was strange, but you decided it was better to ignore it, remembering how mesmerizing the scene of Daphne and Simon making love for the first time really was. As they moved to their new bed, Simon hovering over Daphne’s innocent body, a new sensation was forming in your lower abdomen, but it didn't stop there, unmistakably flying right to your core, again. While recalling how mesmerizing this particular scene was, you also forgot how much it aroused you simultaneously. This was a mistake. Being high and horny was not a good combination, especially when Jisung, your best friend, was sitting next to you, previously with his hands on you. It was probably better to disregard these lustful feelings, they surely would pass.

“Oh shit,” Jisung mumbled, grasping for the small decorative pillow next to him, placing it over his crotch area, “this is um, wow, it’s uh-”

“Yeah I kinda forgot,” you replied before facing him, noticing the now pillow covering the beginning of his lower limbs. At first you were confused, eyebrows furrowed at why he would do such a thing. Instead of minding your business, and beating the paranoia of not knowing what he was doing that was amplified after smoking, you were now holding the pillow, the sounds of Daphne’s moans and groans the only noise that could be heard. As soon as Jisung noticed your grip on the pillow, he resisted you, not wanting you to see what was happening underneath the soft object.

“Jisung,” you laughed nervously, genuinely confused at his behavior, “what are you doing with my pillow.”

“Nothing,” he hushed, attempting to dismiss your question with the tone of his voice floating thin into the air, “keep watching.”

He pointed at the screen, head nodding in the same direction as you let go of the pillow and focused on the TV. But that was the worst mistake you could have made, because it was Simon’s turn to undress, and once he did, it really was game over. The two of them there, completely naked as he began to thrust into his new wife. Simon’s grunts were short, staccato like, while Daphne was more graceful, each moan spilling into her husband's ear as the two of them went at it.

“Fuck this is making me really horny.”

As soon as your best friend said that, he brought his fingers to his lips, leaving your jaw dropped. Did he really just say that, or were you hallucinating?

“Woops,” Jisung mumbled, “the weed is really making me lose my filter. Sorry.”

You should have hated that he blurted that out. Letting the intrusive thoughts win, especially when high, was not a good sign. But it brought the ache that momentarily dulled right back. Looking back at the screen, Jisung now removed the pillow and revealed his full hard on through his thin fabric sweatpants: it was becoming too much. Now suddenly, the only thought that stayed consistent was wanting the same thing on the TV. Right here. Right now. With Jisung. Your best friend.

“Don’t be sorry,” you cooed, moving closer to him, “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t either.”

He said nothing, only gasping in a subtle manner as Jisung looked at you, all of a sudden your features projecting to him as illustrious, appetizing. Jisung wanted nothing more than to devour you in the current moment.

“Is this normal?”

Jisung’s voice was so nonchalant, tone lacking concern or hesitation at your lack of proximity. It was kind of adorable, really. The normal friend you knew was one to freak out if he ever did something like this. Usually so prim and proper in every setting. In contrast, there was something sexy about the way he was acting. Sure, actions had consequences, but thinking with clarity was not a priority.

“I would say so,” you purred, voice soothing as your fingers crept onto the front of his knee closest to you, “weed makes me horny too.”

“O-oh,” his voice shook, suddenly a little nervous by the prospect of you touching him in a possibly arousing way, “Y/n.”

Jisung’s voice was breathy, chest heaving very slowly as his eyes shot down to your body. Suddenly, your best friend was amazed by every single curve and creativity of your figure. As he brought his hands to your behind, it suddenly felt so soft, hands unforgivingly slipping past the waistband of your shorts, making direct contact with your skin. The contact made you hot, using your free hand to fan yourself. Jisung took the hand of yours that was moving deathly slowly along his inner thigh off of him, body now on his side facing you as he withdrew his hand groping your ass. Instead, he moved it around to the front, but rather than dipping straight into your folds, he slipped in the layer under your outer layer, opting for the space inbetween, digits spreading across your core covered by the miniscule fabric.. It was better this way, he thought. The sensation of touch was much more sensitive under the influence as he wanted to feel every texture of your body that was possible. You giggled at the brush of his gentle touch, a small gasp quickly following up once you realized that his fingers, although not making direct contact, were feeding that arousal felt between your legs. Like scratching an impossible itch. His eyes were already on you when your neck turned, facing him.

“Shit,” you breathed, “you’re really good at that.”

“I’m barely touching you,” he hissed, lips getting closer to your own. What is happening right now? You should be saying no; rejected his advances. Your best friend. Jisung. The shy, little boy you had known him to be all of his life. But the longer his fingers pushed around that sensitive button of yours, the more your legs spread open for him, hips gently bucking to reach for more surface area of his fingers. His confidence was charming, almost too much so. It made you want more and more, so much so that your internal conflict of stopping and telling him to keep going was disappearing with each lingering moment. Rationality, once a perplexity in your mind disappeared the moment his lips landed on yours. God they were sweet, soft; every texture that you know felt pleasant was coming to your mind the moment they moved against your own. His free hand came to the side of your face that was farthest away, index finger spread across your jaw as he moved his tongue, deeper and deeper, maintaining his dominance over you. Fuck he was a good kisser, a whine erupting from your throat at how flexible his mouth was, bending over backwards to make sure that you were happy with the pace.

“Mhm,” you hummed, pulling away from a brief moment to remove all bottoms, panties included. All your best friend could do was chuckle, deeply, the shade of his eyes turning as dark as you had ever seen when he saw your bare pussy out, for him. His fingers latched on immediately, using the index and middle finger on one hand to spread your lips, the other fingers on the opposite hand barely scratching your clit. The feeling almost made you wriggle out of your seat, mouth agape across Jisung’s cheeks in a sloppy effort to maintain composure of any sort.. Everything was happening so fast. All it took was barely one scene for the two of you to let down your guards. Pretending that your friendship meant nothing. It was never friendship. Jisung would be a ghost to you if the two of you had not been friends since childhood. Maybe there were in fact other reasons that the two of you stayed this way. The moans and groans of the girls he would have over, filling up the bare distance between your room and his, always had an effect on you. It was then when you started to question what he did to those girls to make them feel so good that you were doomed. It was easy to act like a crazy party girl in front of him, knowing that he would never want to be with someone like that, and by doing that, it would push those little feelings right down to where you had the ability to forget them. Avoidance was always key.

But then Jisung would bring you food while you were up doing an assignment, buy you a bouquet of flowers when it was your birthday. Even the way he would talk to your siblings back at home was enough. Jisung was enough and maybe now, by getting these hormonal feelings out, which felt like heaven, was enough to admit that this would not be just a high rendezvous for you, but something real.

“You’re like really wet,” Jisung hummed, sliding his fingers closer and closer to your whining entrance, “always wondering how you would’ve felt like this.”

“You have?”

“Oh yeahhhh,” Jisung replied, sarcastic, as if it was super obvious, “all the time.”

“Fuck that’s so hot,” you moaned, gripping his wrist, bringing the digits specifically up to your lips for a moment, taking his DNA into a deep thorating motion The two fingers he was about to use now utterly drenched in your slick before navigating them down your body, circling your entrance before effortlessly plunging them straight into your hole. Jisung could have creamed himself then and there. Due to the sensitivity of his first time being high, he knew that if he was going to fuck you today, he truly would not last long, at all. But instead of ruining the moment that way, he decided to make it all about you. Wanting to view you squirm under him, make his best friend: you feel good. It is something he has been patiently waiting for. Jisung was a giver, and if he wanted to give you a toe curling orgasm on your couch to make you happy, he was going to do so, whatever it took.

As soon as he fingers reached the end of your whole, the two of you moaned in unison, the sound of squelch that was your arousal already an intense volume.

“D-don’t think I’ve been this wet before,” you whined, waiting for Jisung to gently pull them out.

“Really,” he questioned, genuinely baffled, “no one ever made you this wet before? Find that hard to believe.”

Your hips wriggled, desperate to feel the friction of him moving back and forth. However he was so mesmerized by the texture of your velvety walls against his digits, that he used his other hand, coated in your slick, to relieve himself, the encounter resulting in Jisung becoming much too impatient to bother taking his pants off. Your eyes shot straight to the small motion you were witnessing of him moving his hand against his cock. Oh, his length must feel so good like this. Once Jisung began to move his fingers that were inside of you, a string of curse words easily fell from your lips, unable to control anything that came from them. The sensory overload was at peak, and if you were sober, feeling overwhelmed would be an understatement.

With that being said, you were not, and neither was Jisung. The brooding tip that was his cock gently nudged your inner thigh. As he continued to grow, it had nowhere else to go. The simplest of touches felt like a million times more than when under the influence. But it had to be a culmination of things. Seeing Jisung dominate in something, take control. Fuck. Hearing those girls in his dorm had more of an impact on you than you originally thought.

Your mind drifted to those memories for a brief moment, the faint moans of the girls, but it suddenly occurred that you never knew what he sounded like. Jisung was a silent fuck? There was no way.

Your gaze drifted, Jisung immediately noticing and pausing his fingers with immediate concern.

“Y/n?”

Your head turned back faster than your eyes, deep in motion. It was silent, the TV pretty much non-existent as you grabbed him by the jaw, index finger and thumb strong on his mandible as your eyes fixated on his lips.

“How come you never moan when you fuck?”

Jisung panicked at first, a laugh following immediately after, the contagious sound making you laugh too. Your body was limp for a brief moment, falling off of your best friend's lap and next to him on the couch. Jisung ripped his glasses off his head, throwing them onto the table in front of him, allowing him to get a genuine look at how hot and flustered you truly were. Solely because of him.

“What are you talking about,” he giggled, fingertips immediately grabbing the flesh of your thigh, any part of you was good to him, as long as he could get his hands on it, right now.

“How would you know if I’m a silent fuck or not?”

“Because,” you smacked him lightly, letting him remove his hand from your skin “I can hear when you fuck other girls, pfft,” you huffed, lifting your legs in the air to discard your bottoms that were puddled around your ankles, “they’re always so fucking loud man.”

Jisung’s cheeks blushed in the tiniest form. It’s not that he was embarrassed. Okay, maybe part of him was a little embarrassed, completely caught off guard and forgetting that the walls in the dorm were paper thin. Part of him felt guilty that you had to hear that. He began to pout, but immediately dropped his lips when he realized that you were half naked. His fingertip immediately wrapped around each hip, forcing you to sit on his lap and face him. You lifted your hips, eyes signaling down to his pants that were overdue in needing to be removed. Jisung complied immediately, whisking his sweats and boxers off in one motion, causing his hard length to meet with your soaked core, his tip prodding gently at your folds. You bit down on your lip trying as hard as you could to focus on Jisung’s face, rather than focusing on how erect his cock was against you. Jisung tugged at your shirt, gawking when you lifted your arms to see no other material supporting your chest. Jisung was mesmerized once again. Another surface area that he wanted his hands on immediately.

“I can’t believe you heard me fuck other girls and never said anyti-”

“Shhh,” you hushed, pressing your folds firmer against Jisung’s cock. Your best friend reach for your hips immediately, in shock of your bold actions, “I don’t fucking care Jisung it’s fine just touch me, please.”

“You don’t have to ask twice,” he huffed, palms snaking past your abdomen and gripping onto your tits hard, firm, rough. Ugh. Nothing had ever felt so good in your life. All this time you thought Jisung was a stupid little pathetic boy, with the occasional fuck here and there. God, it would almost make you laugh at how incorrect your perception was of him in the bedroom. Truth was, he knew what he was doing, because your arousal was doing nothing but increasing with each longing moment that his wood was not inside of you.

“Soft fucking tits,” Jisung mumbled, almost drooling as he slapped one of your nipples, the skin imeediadtely turning hard as he brought his lips to to the bud. His teeth appeared, claws like, as he took the same one in his mouth, not returning for breath as he nippled, licked, sucked; you name it, Jisung was doing that.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, head rolling back in pleasure, “how are you so good at everything you do?”

A chuckle escaped Jisung’s lips, the vibration felt across the entirety of your chest, “I’m not I-”

The two of you paused, freezing entirely when you heard Jisung’s phone ring. He glazed over, noticing the words “Mom” written across the top of the screen. He looked away as he turned back to you, that look of hunger dilating his pupils. The temporary freeze made Jisung long for you even more.

“Jisung,” you whispered, hands placed across his face and upper neck, “you should answer.”

“No,” he huffed, attaching his lips over your neck sporadically, “if it’s an emergency she’ll call me again. I’m busy.”

The phone was silent for maybe a few seconds, before it began to ring again. Jisung scoffed, removing his hands from you as he picked up his phone.

Your joint and lighter were in arms reach. You ignored the conversation, bringing the material to your lips and lighting it up again, your body relaxing even more as you took a deep breath in, feeling the substance sink into your skin, blowing out the remnants after. Your eyes turned to Jisung, his already on you, eyeing the joint in your hand. He leaned forward, waiting for you to put the joining between his lips. You complied, bringing the flame in unison. Jisung mumbled his words for a brief moment before blowing out the air.

“Yes mom,” he answered, “I’m fine. Y/n is fine, I just checked in on her.”

A small giggle came to your lips, followed by Jisung covering them. Removing his appendages, you decided to stand up, letting go of Jisung on his lap as you dropped to your knees. Like a predator, you crawled over, eye level with his knees. Jisung’s brows furrowed, taking him a bit of time to realize what you were about to do. He was still on the phone, talking to his mum about god knows what. That wasn’t your focus for now. It was spreading his legs wide, Jisung’s hardness evident as it spread across his groin. Your lips curled upward as you situations yourself where you needed to be, Jisung’s eyes widening as he realized what you were about to do.

“Yes I am s-sutdying hard,” Jisung shuttered, the sudden touch being your hand wrapped around the base of him startling him, “j-just finished one a-assignment today.”

A deep, lustrous chuckle escaped your mouth as you began to pump him, watching your best friend’s sensitivity, squirming at the touch. Jisung was doing everything in his power not to moan, prevent knowing how much effect you had on him, and form his mum knowing what he was doing.

“Mom can I c-call you back l-later, bit b-bust, busy right now.”

Jisung’s body jolts forward the moment he felt your tongue on the underside of him, making its way to his tip. He hung up the phone, tired of this torture as his hands found their way through your hands immediately. His sign of eagerness felt so good, the gentle tug from him begging you to go down on him completely driving you wild. The pain mixed in with pleasure immediately, traveling to your core and pulsating harder than it has ever felt in your life. Jisung was lengthy, but that was no problem. Beginning, slowly, you took him into your mouth, a guttural moan bleeding from his lips as his head rolled back with ease.

“Holy fucking shit,” he gasped, almost running of out of room to breath, “you’re so fucking good at this baby”

A slight moan fell from your lips at the use of the pet name. Jisung’s head snapped back down immediately to you, catching your gaze in an instant. Your eyes looked bigger to him, doe like. It was driving Jisung wild; he could’ve finished right then and there. Being high and having the elevated physical sensation from your magical touch was something he could live with forever, maybe become addicted to. If this is what life felt like under the influence, he now wanted this all the time.

“Mmmh,” you sighed, a large pop and breath coming from your lips as you replaced your hand, “you taste so good Sungie.”

Your free hand traveled down your body, descending to the apex between your thighs to satisfy that ache that was growing with intensity with every second passed. The attempt to hide your pleasure was amateur, biting down on your bottom lip as a stifled groan left your lips.

“Y/n, baby,” Jisung purred, leaning forward and grabbing your forearms, “come here.”

You did as you were told, helping him hoist you back onto his lap. The brush of him against you this time is 10x more powerful and intense. Nothing had ever felt like this before; you never wanted this to end. Jisung scanned you again, looking up and down one more time before seizing the hem of his shirt, ripping it over his head. You gasped, hands immediately clamping onto him as you leaned forward, reattaching your lips to his.

Above everything, Jisung’s lips felt the best. This symbolized so many times, conscious and unconscious, did you think about how they would feel. What they would taste like. How other girls thought Jisung’s lips tasted and felt like. Jisung smiled as he pulled away, the devilishly handsome smile on his face as he leaned into your ear, “sit next to me baby.”

It seemed that the only thing you could do was be obedient to Jisung. His orders were like music to your ears. In your friendship dynamic, you tended to be the more domineering one. Making decisions for Jisung, whereas he was the more nonchalant friend. Always happy to go with the flow, as long as he was with you. This time, may things were different.

Jisung sat in the same place with his legs spread. Leaning over, he grabbed you by the thigh closest to him, fingers dancing across the skin on the inside of your thigh as his lips turned upward again. All of a sudden you felt nervous. Watching your best friend ogle you was a strange feeling. Jisung immediately noticed your energy shift.

“Y/n.”

“Yeah,” your eyes widened, looking directly at him.

“You okay baby?”

“Yeah? Yeah! Sorry, let me have another puff.”

Jisung saw you grab the joint and the lighter again, bringing to your lips before he reached for your wrist, pushing the objects away, forcing your attention to be on him only.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

“No,” you interjected, bringing the material and lighting the tip once more, “I fucking want you. I just zoned out for a second.”

You pressed a kiss to his lips, followed by his cheek, back of the ear and down to his neck, cascading hisdown to the middle of his chest. Jisung giggled at the feeling, the tickling sensation emitting fire throughout his body. He returned the favor, placing a kiss atop of your breast before he reached for his own joint, handing you the lighter, “Will you do me the honors?”

“Fuck yes I will,” you marvelled at his enthusiasm, lighting up the joint without a hesitation, watching him sit back and close his eyes, taking everything in. You did the same, wanting to embrace that feeling that resulted in you buying this in the first place.

It was as if the last puff recharged your best friend, his eyes reopening, that dark, lustful caste creeping back into them as he reached for you, pushing your leg out of the way, hand clasping your inner thigh. There was no sign of his movement stopping, fingers already pushing your folds across, almost as if they were in the way completely. A sharp gasp fell from your lips the moment his middle finger touched your clit, the sensation overwhelming immense as he began to move in circular motions. Jisung’s touch was gentle, in reality, he was barely applying any pressure. But in this moment, the pleasure you were deriving from his fingers was tenfold. Eyelids were fluttering, it felt like you could barely keep up with him. It wasn’t until you saw Jisung’s cock twitch out of the corner of your eye that you knew what you had to do.

It was time for your hand to snake around his body, but, in contrast to Jisung, you did not want to wait. There was no time to tease; you were simply too desperate. Fingertips found his weak spot fast, dexterity sloppy wrapped around your best friend once again as you matched the pace he found on you. It was slow, sensual, anything to build the pressure between your thighs, and between his.

“Y/n, baby,” he whined, a deep groan following, “Your hands are my favorite part of you right now.”

A seductive chuckle escaped your lips, “Your hands are my favorite part of you right now too Sungie.”

“Fuck I love it when you call me that with your voice all fucked up and groggy.”

“Sungie baby, I always call you that,” you paused, bringing short circuiting from the finger that Jisung slipped inside of you, “what’s so d-different about it now.”

“You always turn me on Y/n,” Jisung grogged back, “always,” he smiled, pausing again, “especially right now.”

A small heat came to your cheeks, hips gently dragging across his fingers. God, was this what heaven felt like? Your hand picked up in speed, Jisung reacted immediately with a gentle whine. The noises he made to you were like an orchestra playing its grand piece. Another side of Jisung that you had not seen, but were mesmerized by. It was a whole new world. A whole new territory of risk that the two of you had decided to explore. However, all rational and logical decisions were thrown out the window a very long time ago. Jisung wrapped his free hand around your breast, clasping onto your nipple as he entered another finger into you, index and middle finger picking up their pace, adding the squelching sound of your wetness as another sound that filled your tiny dorm room. Dorm room. You forget momentarily how thin the walls were; but who gives a fuck? It’s not like Jisung was going to hear. He was the one that was making you moan over and over anyway.

“Sungie,” you whimpered, “feels so good.”

“Say my name like that again.”

“Sungie.”

“Fuck,” he growled, pushing deeper into your walls, “your pussies screaming for me.”

“It’s your pussy,” you breathed, the tremors of your release beginning to rumble, “no one has ever turned me on this much Sungie.”

Your best friend had a smirk of approval, curling the tip of his two fingers inside of you. A small shriek escaped your lips, hand flailing from his cock as your jaw dropped at once. Hips bucked up and off the couch, a sinister chuckle coming from Jisung as he watched your hips squirm for him. He was possessed by the way your body reacted to him, reacted to his touch, he did not pay two minds to the throbbing sensation between his legs. All he could see was that you were slowly losing it.

You did not care. You were waiting close and closer, deeper and deeper, hitting a spot that has never been touched in your life. Your mouth was getting bigger, hips moving with less and less rhythm. There was an impending feeling that you knew was going to happen, it was only a matter of seconds.

“Sungie I’m gonna-”

“I know baby,” Jisung cooed, eyes fixated on your face, pressing a gentle kiss to your jawline, “cum for me.”

A borderline scream left your lips when your hips plowed to the couch, an rupture of pleasure cascaded of the entirety of your body, legs shaking and howling in pain like they never had before. Your chest was breathing heavy, deep in unison with Jisung’s as he removed his fingers, your pussy aching from the lack of fullness. Jisung leaned over, pressing a kiss to your neck in several places before your lips. He waited until your eyelids stopped fluttering shut for you to see him bring those sinful digits to his mouth, and suck on them, hard, a deep groan leaving his lips at the taste.

“Fuck you taste good,” he winked, causing both of you to start giggling.

It did not take long for your eyes to travel to his still very hard cock. Your hands traveled immediately, both encompassing the majority of him before you began pumping, hard. To anyone with an outside view, this was not classy sex. It was sloppy, but the two of you were so high that it was perceived the former way. Jisung needed your touch, you needed to touch him. Jisung wasn’t far off either, and the fact that you were looking at him with vigor, with desire was bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

“Y/n slow down, I’m gonna cum too quick.”

“No such thing,” you purred, adding your tongue into the mix, flicking your tongue along the slit of his tip.. You leaned over, Jisung resting his hands across your ass as you coaxed one moan after out of him. Jisung’s head snapped back, unable to comply with the amount of pressure he was feeling. In a similar fashion to you, his hips began to buck, tip slipping into your mouth as his sounds got louder, his pleading becoming stronger.

“Y/n fuck, s-shit I’m gonna cum, Y/n I’m gonna cum.”

Jisung’s voice became whiny, the tone music to your ears as you moved your mouth away from his length, bringing your lips to the crook of his neck and collarbone, gently nipping on the soft spot on his skin as his muscles coiled underneath your body, cock getting harder under his hands as he hit his peak. Ropes and ropes of him squirted across his stomach, a deep groan, one sounding of relief bursting from his lips as he gripped your wrist, chuckling to stop you from a sensory overload.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, regaining his compures as he grabbed you by the neck, pulling you into a deep, deep kiss. The pressure on your neck was comforting, a smile turning on your lips as you pulled away.

“Wow,” Jisung gasped, “That was,”

“What took you so long?”

“Y/n, shut up,” Jisung spat, the fatigue hitting him suddenly, “woah, I’m fucking exhausted.”

“I tend to have that effect on people,” you smirked, the room erupted in laughter as Jisung laid back on the couch, pulling you into him as the two of you looked at the ceiling. Your substance affected mind was starting to wear off, causing your exhaustion tenfold. The two of you drifted off to sleep almost immediately.

“When I wake up, you're gonna get it,” Jisung mumbled, but you were already asleep.

Depending on how you felt when you woke up, that would change everything.

#han jisung #han jisung smut #han jisung fic #han jisung scenario #stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids fic #han jisung x reader #stray kids x reader #jisung #jisung smut #jisung fic #jisung scenario #jisung x reader #ch4nb4ng

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eldritch-spouse · 6 months ago

Note

Thought of a Meet cute with Vorago. We are walking and reading a human x demon romance book. We almost walk into traffic and Vorago pulls us out of harm's way. We look up at him and thank him for saving us with all the adoration in our heart. He's going to write a fic of this 100% guaranteed.

[50/50 chance you knock into each other and swap interspecies smut books.]

[Fem reader.]

Vorago wishes he liked going to the surface more.

Really, he should. It's where a lot of his future business will be conducted, and he won't always be summoned to his target locations. Therefore, it's integral to his status that the prince not only find his way around without help but also maintain his air of infernal royal descent. This task is easy enough to achieve, and he certainly doesn't mind the change in scenery, being surrounded by so many humans even.

The problem lies in his conservative conduct. Vorago isn't allowed to interact with strangers more than he must, he shouldn't approach things outside his defined goals, so as to reduce the possibility of scandals and failure. Not only that, his standard appearance already puts off a lot of people from speaking to him, the attitude he must uphold pretty much ensures he's given a wide berth wherever he goes. Much too wide. It's an isolating experience.

He remembers when he was a clumsy hatchling, clinging to his mother's tail when the two of them ventured into the surface buzz. Sure, Queen Vorticia would have to eventually hold him by a horn, but before such, he was free to march his way to any human and ask them to play games with him. The memories alone put a smile on his face.

This is precisely why Vorago's favorite moments on the surface are when he's surrounded by busy people. People who are simply too distracted, too in their own bubble, to even register his presence, much less distance themselves.

He's been behind you for a few minutes.

Not because he chose to, you just happen to be walking the same paths.

So engrossed in your little book, you're hardly looking where you're going. Vorago knows the feeling, many times have the hours slipped past him while he bent over a desk and devoured endless pages. He had to be shaken off it by his siblings frequently, disoriented and embarrassed.

All three eyes strain to get a better view of the words on those two pages.

What are you reading? Is it fiction? Educational content? Maybe you're a student. History? Crime thriller? Drama? Sci-fi? Romance...? He can't even get a glimpse of the cover, at least not without encroaching upon your personal bubble.

Mild disappointment flashes on the prince's face.

He's just close enough to be politely curious, to catch a whiff of your scent, but that's about it.

You may not be attentive to the environment around you, but other people certainly are. The crowd slightly ahead of you hastens to catch the last few seconds of a soundless pedestrian green light. Predictably, you don't.

Right as green becomes red, impatient vehicles have already began picking up speed, your body about to resemble that of an impact dummy in a matter of seconds.

Vorago acts on reflex mostly.

Many times has he had to be the one yanking younger baby sisters and brothers from certain injury, so the prince hardly thinks before wrapping his claws around the collar of your shirt and pulling.

It was a harsh pull, definitely. Measuring strength was the last thing on the glutton's mind when he acted. The force of it doesn't just launch you back, away from the zooming cars now passing by, it also causes you to lose balance, scream, and land right on your ass.

Your personal belongings fly just about everywhere, and Vorago's focus breaks enough that he feels somewhat guilty now.

" I'm incredibly sorry. " He blurts out, a hand reaching out towards your panicked self.

You seem frantic, quickly trying to crouch and pick up your phone, keys, wallet. " N- No no, I just- " Finally, you look up.

And the look on your face says you expected quite literally anyone, except him.

He can't even interpret it at first. Is it a good kind of shock? A bad one? He understands he's rather large compared to a human, and plenty of monsters out there, but you're giving him nothing to work with. Your cheeks look warm, a much too long second passes.

You're quite beautiful up close.

" I'm okay! "

The volume of your sudden input makes his head flinch back, ears flicking. Vorago watches you drop your phone a couple of times before shaky hands finally manage to collect everything and you're standing, awkwardly.

" I uhm- " Your head veers to the traffic, then back. Beneath all the nerves, there's something like naked admiration in your expression, as if Vorago were some fantastical entity. " Thank you so much, you probably saved my life there. "

Probably?

The prince smiles, nodding, trying to make the situation as natural as it can be. " Don't mention it, ma'am, I'm just pleased you're safe. "

Something about that made your eyes widen, you look even more frantic now. He barely gets a word in when the light turns green once more, with you preparing to nearly sprint away.

" R-Right. Thanks. "

Vorago is about to walk as well, not all that eager to stop the conversation, when his foot brushes an object, causing him to reflexively glance at what he identifies as your book.

He picks it up fast. " Ma'am, your... "

When he straightens, you're already quite a distance ahead, walking decidedly fast and harshly tapping away at your screen.

" ... Book. "

Something about the cover feels weird. The glutton strolls forward with the thing in hand, indulging his curiosity while he flips it around.

'Unlocking The Quiet Mind, Exercises to find clarity and mindfulness within yourself'

Ah, self-help books. He's read a few. Lord knows today's world could use the time to reflect and find balance.

When he prepares to flip open the first few pages, the cover crinkles, making him frown. That's not natural. He moves it around some, eventually making it slip down.

Oh.

Vorago removes the fake plastic protection.

Oh.

'The Eclipse Pact, Tethered by blood and soul'

He nearly chokes.

This, is the real book. The actual cover consists of a woman in what seems to be a forested area, below a solar eclipse. She kneels before an inaccurate summoning circle in nothing more than a flowing nightgown, ritual utensils beside her, shocked and flustered by the presence of a demon confidently emerging from said circle.

He can feel his claws tightening onto the book, a rabid wave of excitement making the glutton's body become furnace-like, hair standing. He finds the back.

'Soon after moving out, Eliza Winters inherits a summoning book from her recently departed distant grandmother, detailing a ritual that, when performed during a solar eclipse, brings forth an infernal companion devoted entirely to her service. She never expected it to work, much less that she would now have to house a charming yet secretive demon who claims he will do anything to gain her favor for seemingly no reason. As she attempts to navigate her newfound reality, tensions and nosy family members highlight curious similarities between them. Can Eliza believe this infatuated summon? Are they meant to be, or are they now stuck together until the next few eclipses?'

The prince starts laughing to himself, trying to control his volume when a grin as wide and toothy as a lion's paints his complexion.

It's not that this is a particularly original story premise, it's that you were reading it.

No wonder you were panicking.

Wildly overjoyed, Vorago bolts his head every direction he can, desperate to find you again.

It's unsightly for a royal to be sprinting in public, but when the high-ranker recognizes the top of your head in a crowd, he doesn't hold back, nearly shoving past people.

He doesn't even know what he'll say when he catches up, he just knows he has to find you.

It's too perfect.

#Vorago oc #monster boyfriend #monster x reader

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dalekowrites · 10 months ago

Text

Hi lovelies! ♥

I'm an author of traditional and interactive fiction, and I'm currently working on two projects in ChoiceScript. One is a science-based apocalyptic horror, while the other is a romantic drama set in Naples, Italy. This blog will mostly be about my works in progress!

I have, however, already published a short introspective drama in ChoiceScript, which can be found here.

I will soon set up a page for each of them on here, but in the meantime, here is a brief introduction:

After Dark

While the heavy industry is more active than ever, the effects of global warming are evident, with higher temperatures, dying bees, and animals acting weird. After Dark is a scientifically accurate apocalyptic horror. You’re tired of zombies rising from the ground for no reason? You don’t believe in ghosts? Glittering vampires aren’t for you? Then you have to try one of the three different stories that unfold in After Dark. When a global pandemic starts to transform people into dangerous monsters, which path will you choose? Will you fight for humanity? Will you stay for your family? Or will you run away in search of a better future?

The In-Between

You’re an introverted college student, studying modern languages at a famous university based in Naples. You live a seemingly ordinary life with your parent and younger sibling, as no one knows the truth about your past side business—a dark, illegal one. You thought you had finally escaped that world, but when your younger sibling falls seriously ill, your only hope is your wealthy ex-lover: an attractive mobster, charming and dangerous in equal parts...

Tell me, which one appeals to you most? 😁

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octavinelle-oyster · 2 months ago

Note

It’s the same anon from the idia post, it was a wing emoji but since that one’s too new I can go with 🦇 anon!!

Anyway, another request since I have way too many ideas cooked up, could I request Sebek (or Leona if you don’t want to write him but I love my silly crocodile boy) with a shroud family!reader? Like in the ignihyde dorm, younger sibling of Idia and older sibling of Ortho, and is a shut-in like Idia just not quite as bad?

Thank you, have a good day!!

Characters: Sebek Zigvolt

Type: Headcanon

Info: Reader is Idia’s younger sibling, Reader is the same age and in the same year as Sebek, Reader is not Ramshackle Prefect

“Thank you for being friends with me. Baffling decision, but thank you.”

Sebek Zigvolt

It all started when the two of you were put into the same history class.

The only reason the two of you ever spoke in the first place was because you were sat next to each other and Trein loved giving group projects to first years.

You two were paired up to write a report on the history of worker fairies within your first week of school.

Sebek was, at first, his usual brash, loud self— an instant contrast with your more quiet demeaner.

Whenever someone would pass the two of you in the library they always thought “That poor Ignihyde student…”

Needless to say, with Sebek you got your assignment done very quickly. He was on top of getting shit done as soon and efficiently as possible.

Even if he had to collect you from Ignihyde himself and drag you to the library for sources.

He REFUSED to use the web btw. All the information had to be sourced from the library of Night Raven College in his eyes.

If you got fed up with his behavior enough to speak up you two would clash. A lot.

But the two of you were the first to turn in the assignment and get full marks so you win some and lose some.

Depending on if the two of you would actually argue or not during the course of the assignment, he may view you in a higher regard than the other first years.

You worked quickly to get the assignment done too! (you just wanted away from him and his loud self screaming in the library.)

But, this also leads Sebek to naturally turn towards you whenever Trein tells the class to discuss readings.

He does most of the talking.

God forbid if you share any other classes.

In Alchemy he’s constantly hovering. Always reading out measurements a little louder than needed but hey! He just wants to make sure you hear him right and don't give him too much flower dust and blow up the cauldron!

At first he restricts your friendship to just in-class interactions and the occasionally acknowledgement in the hallway. But after about the 3rd month or so he’ll start to warm up to you.

Maybe walking with you to class under the guise of needing to make sure you don't get pushed around by any other students with your seeming lack of confidence! (Just deal with him please he doesn't know how to initiate a proper conversation with a friend.)

If the two of you eventually become good enough friends to the point of hanging out outside of class?

You’re never getting rid of him sorry. Especially if he claims to be your friend by this point.

He’s still a pretty busy body and will always put Malleus above all else but when he does have free time between his club responsibilities and training and classes, and homework and Malleus— he will seek out your company.

But you’ve got it all wrong if you think he’s just going to sit around with you and play video games.

He is the reason you get out of the dorm so much. Like sure, you're not nearly as bad as Idia- but you're also not nearly as socially prone as Ortho.

Speaking of the Shroud brothers.

If he notices, he never points it out until you bring it up. But his wide eyes and tense shoulders say otherwise when the two of you turn the corner, planning to leave your dorm and nearly run smack into Idia and Ortho and you hit Idia with the “hey bro…”

Okay I kind of got carried away…

I’ve also started getting into the Diasomnia chapters and I gotta say, Sebek is growing on me

I also just realized how crazy the banter would be between an Ignihyde middle child and Sebek would be

Like actually. The joking insults would be diabolical omg maybe I’ll make a pt 2 with more romantic undertones bc I feel like this one was very bare… I'm sorry bat anon 💔

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #twst x reader #sebek zigvolt #twst sebek #twisted wonderland sebek #sebek x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader

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danganronpasurvivoraskblog · 21 days ago

Text

THE HUNDRED LINE: LAST DEFENSE ACADEMY - Journal #5: Route 0 Days 57-66. [MASSIVE SPOILERS]

//As I mentioned before, due in part to me having more immediate obligations to get through, I ended up taking a break from this game. But when I did, I genuinely was so excited to get back to it that I started to go threw withdrawals.

//I'm not addicted YOU ARE!

//But in all seriousness, I wanted to try and cover as much ground as I possibly could. I was shooting to make go from Day 57, where I left off, to Day 70 at least.

//But man, this game is SO LONG. And these days in particular were jammed with SO MUCH STUFF.

//It's...hard to say how I feel about this arc of the story, but I can confidently say that it's probably the most emotionally damaging part.

//Which is actually ironic. One common theme of the Danganronpa games and their plots is they start of strong, tend to petter out during the middle, and then where it flops massively, it hits back with the most emotionally engaging, and typically the SADDEST part of the story.

//And even though Hundred Line is not split up by chapters, turns out it hit the same way. I complained a bunch about the previous stuff I experienced, but everything I found in this part was LEGENDARY.

//But I can't say any more than that, because again, spoilers.

DO NOT READ THE REST OF THIS POST IF YOU HAVE NOT PLAYED/SEEN THE HUNDRED LINE: LAST DEFENSE ACADEMY. I WILL BE TALKING ABOUT VERY SPECIFIC PLOT POINTS AND MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE GAME.

//So let's get started:

DAY 57:

//One thing I will say out of the gate is that the actual plot progression over the course of these days is honestly kind of slow. It has a really slow, steady buildup, and then immediately, it all comes crashing down.

//The highlight of today's discussion, as I fully expected it would be, is Moko, as it's now been 8 days since she showed up at the school out of nowhere. Seeing as, by this point, she's the only one of the group not on the battlefield yet. I assumed that this arc would be centered around her, but there are other things to note as well.

//Specifically, the Invader Commander that we took prisoner after the last battle, is now in a cage in the courtyard, and Shouma is apparently taking care of her.

//Not gonna lie, Shouma's budding relationship with the enemy commander throughout this part, even if most of what we know is only given by word of mouth, is pretty engaging. Through this initial interaction, I started thinking that he might have had a crush on her.

//By the way, this Invader is CLEARLY an important character SOMEHOW, because she appears on the map and has her own icon, suggesting that she's someone we can talk to. As I said before, my current theory was that this Invader was going to end up being student number 16, since most of Kodaka's games have an evened out cast like that, and Hundred Line's lineup was only really one off.

//Ima and Kako show up a little later because they spent the night playing games and trying to ease into their new relationship dynamic. And credit where it is due, the way they interact now towards each other is MUCH better!

//I think the big issue is that the sister-complex nature of Ima, and the submissive sister nature of Kako made it really hard to relate and sympathize with them both. But now that Ima's worldview has changed and Kako is trying to be more independent, they now seem just like regular siblings, and I can definitely get behind that.

//I would KILL someone to have a Danganronpa/Danganronpa-style game that features siblings, and just HAVE THEM BE SIBLINGS. It's my firm belief, based on...very obvious past experience, that having siblings, especially if they're twins, in a killing game is just a really obvious plot point in the making, where one of them dies, they both die in the same trial, one impersonates the other, etc. There's so little you can do with that idea, which is why I'm never on board with it.

//This is definitely acceptable though. And as rushed as the story felt, I am happy that Ima is now treating Kako like a sister rather than his most cherished property.

//I spent Free Time as I often do; with trying to level up my social stats and physical stats, but during my break, I was given some advice on something.

//Someone told me that it was a really good idea to get everyone to learn Last Yell, and then try abusing that move as much as possible in the battles. Especially the one's that last for a while, i.e. more than one round.

//I haven't actually talked about it before, but to go into a bit more detail here, but up until now, I've mainly been using the voltage meter to use my super abilities and take out enemies in a large group. But on top of using the meter to use ultimate moves, you can also use them to give your character's a boost, like a boost in damage for instance, one of which is called Last Yell.

//The way Last Yell works is once it's activated, whenever an ally uses a skill while you're sitting at exactly 1 Action Point, there's a 50% chance that whoever has Last Yell active will trigger an effect called Support. Support enhances that skill, adding +2 damage and granting 2x Voltage instead of the usual amount.

//The really interesting, and frankly absurd part is that multiple instances of Last Yell can be triggered by a single skill, assuming that most of your characters around you have it activated. These effects stack additively. You can trigger up to 4 instances of Support, resulting in a potential +8 bonus damage and 5x Voltage gain from a single skill, assuming your luck holds.

//Which makes this ability not only INSANELY STRONG, but also VERY STACKABLE.

//The true hilarity begins when you strategically lower your AP to 1 and intentionally leave a few AP-boosting enemies alive. If you line things up right, a single skill can wipe out several of them at once, and each kill can independently trigger Last Yell, rapidly snowballing your Voltage. This Voltage can then be reinvested into activating MORE Last Yell Boosts, amplifying the effect even further.

//When it’s time to face the boss, you repeat the process: bring your AP back down to 1 and use the Voltage you’ve generated to trigger Act Again instead. With the right setup and a bit of RNG, this effectively converts 100 Voltage into multiple skill activations, each one hitting with +8 damage or more.

//And again, this lasts across the whole battle, so you don't need to reapply it to characters after each wave.

//Unfortunately, I didn't have much of a chance to actually TEST this power, because most of the fights I did in this part of the story only lasted around two rounds, and in the major boss one (spoilers) the first round only has you use two characters on the field, and the rest of your squad join in the second round. So there wasn't really any way I could use this in-game hack effectively. But it's definitely something to keep in mind for the future.

//So I grinded a bunch of BP, and got everyone in the squad to learn it.

//I DID consider maybe going on an exploration, because I want to upgrade my gear and potions and don't have enough levels or gear for it at the moment. However, I decided against it, because Nozomi is unavailable for the current period; being too focused on taking care of Moko, and can't come out with us.

//Nozomi kind of carries me during lengthy explorations, so I didn't want to risk going out there without her.

DAY 58:

//Day 58 was pretty uneventful overall. The only major development is that Moko seems to have come down with a fever, and things aren’t looking good for her. Her condition just keeps getting worse, adding to the growing sense of hopelessness surrounding her situation, and Nozomi is running herself ragged trying to help her.

//What stood out to me most during the day was my curiosity about how the invader commander might eventually tie into the main plot.

//Once again, I’ve been speculating that she could be the mysterious 16th character, though based on what’s currently happening, I’m still not entirely sure how that would work. There’s just not enough narrative groundwork laid for that twist, at least not yet.

//Again, nothing much happened today, I just spent the Free Time like I normally would, but the day wraps up with another flashback to Karua.

//In the scene, Karua is nursing a sick dog back to health, and Takumi ends up taking care of her when she herself inevitably falls ill from looking after it. Again, all of these Karua scenes tie back to her subtle connection to Nozomi in some way, and Nozomi herself is being shown to be losing sleep and health because she's too serious about taking care of Moko, just as Karua was this dog.

//It also retroactively explains her actions during the prologue, where she ran off after the stray dog that turns out to be Sirei. She just has a strong instinct to protect lost or sick animals, even at her own expense.

//By the way, I should mention something I’ve noticed but haven’t brought up until now: almost all of Takumi’s flashbacks involving Karua have Clair de Lune playing softly in the background.

//For you Danganronpa fans out there who somehow don't recognize it, that's Kaede's song from V3 that plays at the end of Chapter 1 when Shuichi is in her lab by himself, after she's died. It's a song that's pretty synonymous with Kaede and V3 as a whole, and in the music credits of the game, she's even listed as the song's composer.

//While that track is often associated with Danganronpa, it’s interesting that it only shows up once or twice in those games. Apparently, it's used far more heavily in The Evil Within, which makes sense when you realize that Masafumi Takada, the composer for both Danganronpa and The Hundred Line, also did the music for that game.

//I haven't played The Evil Within, so I don't really understand the deeper meaning of that song being in it, but there's not really much reason for it to be tied to Karua in all the scenes we see of her. So rather than being a deliberate thematic reference, I get the sense that Takada just really, REALLY likes that song, lol.

DAY 59:

//Shouma is clearly forging a deeper connection with the enemy commander. Despite the language barrier between them, he's managed to prove that meaningful communication is possible between our species. Apparently, he spoke to her, and, surprisingly, she not only understood him but seemed to genuinely enjoy the exchange. It’s a small but powerful gesture that suggests a potential bridge between our two worlds.

//However, this development doesn't sit well with the rest of the unit, and it’s easy to understand why.

//The more Shouma learns about the commander, the harder it becomes to uphold the narrative that the Invaders are fundamentally alien or inhuman. They're intelligent, capable of understanding language, and able to form emotional connections, just as any regular human being could. Considering they also use hemoanima to fight and transform, really, the only difference between us and them at this point in terms of nature is that we speak different languages.

//In particular, the likes of Kyoshika and Kurara don't like it, because as far as they're concerned, the Invaders are murderous monsters who must be annihilated. Likening them to fellow humans when protecting humanity is the reason we're here in the first place doesn't bode well for them.

//So when Shouma starts treating the enemy with empathy or even curiosity, it feels like a betrayal of purpose. After all, we’re supposed to be here to protect humanity, not question whether the so-called monsters we're fighting might actually be people too. As those differences fade, so too does the moral clarity of our mission.

//On a different note, I’ve noticed a shift in the game’s pacing. Earlier on, I remember complaining that there wasn’t enough free time to explore or build relationships, but now, I seem to have more downtime than I know what to do with.

//Wanting to make use of it, I went to the school library in the afternoon to boost my social stats and ended up reading yet another heavily censored book. But this one had an interesting detail that stood out.

//It confirmed something I’d been suspecting, and that I talked about in my previous posts for this game. Not all media was simply lost after the Tokyo Residential Complex was established. Some of it was DELIBERATELY destroyed. Specifically, anything containing records of human history before the Complex existed.

//That revelation adds an unsettling layer to the worldbuilding. It makes you wonder what exactly are they trying so hard to erase? What truths have been buried under layers of propaganda and silence?

//We obviously know it's related to World Death, but even that suggests there's more behind World Death's origins and what it actually is than we're let in on.

//With the strange behavior of the Invaders, Shouma’s growing bond with the commander, and the increasingly obvious signs of a rewritten history, I’m starting to question the entire narrative we’ve been given. The real question is...are we REALLY the heroes of this story?

//Again, mostly standard day, but I do want to quickly make a note that there was this line in the breakfast scene that suggested that not even Shouma's dog loved him, and was actually trying to run away from him. Which is actually super depressing, because Shouma's dog was supposed to be the only thing in the world that cared about him, and is the very reason he's out here fighting.

DAY 60:

//We've offically been here for two months, and all dumbass Sirei could do was show up in a suit, apparently not having prepared anything.

//This is where the somewhat casual air of the story starts to take a bit of a turn, and we get more suggestions as to what's really going on here. It starts off with Moko not getting any better, so Nozomi prepares to go out and get ingredients so she can make some kind of medicine with the Gift-O'-Matic. Takumi doesn't want her going alone, so he heads out with her.

//This isn't my first rodeo doing this as part of the story. We basically have to move the characters around the board to three locations to progress. After touching down on the second one though, it suddenly starts raining.

//That rain becomes a thunderstorm after grabbing the third and final ingredient, and not wanting to be struck by lightning, Takumi and Nozomi duck into a nearby building to wait out the storm.

//This is a pretty crucial moment, because this is the first time that Takumi and Nozomi have been alone since they met. And not in a hostile way either.

//However, even though this is Takumi's chance to finally have a one-on-one conversation with her about her potential connection to his childhood friend, he reads the room, and decides not to bring it up directly.

//Nozomi is really out here acting like she's not the most integral member of the party, smh.

//Nozomi ends up talking a little about her routine back in the TRC, though not in much detail. But in the middle of this reflective moment, she accidentally drops a major revelation; one that completely shifts Takumi’s understanding of her place in the story.

//Without meaning to, she lets it slip that she WASN'T recruited into the war effort the same way the rest of us were. In fact, from what she says, it becomes clear that she was never meant to be at the Last Defense Academy at all.

//At least...that's what I'm getting.

//By this point, I had already started to suspect something was off about Nozomi compared to the rest of the group. Rather, I had expected as much since her debut in the trailer; purely from the fact that she had a different means of combat than everyone else.

//Everyone at the academy shares one critical trait: we all have a specific kind of special blood anomaly that enables us to wield Hemoanima...or at the very least, that's the feeling I'm getting from Shouma's flashbacks to the Kamukura hospital. It’s the cornerstone of our combat potential and the primary reason we were drafted into this war.

//But Nozomi stands out. She’s never demonstrated the same affinity for Hemoanima as the rest of us. Instead, she relies entirely on her custom artificial armor to fight. And now, with this accidental admission, the pieces begin to fall into place.

//My guess is the real reason she can’t use Hemoanima is because she doesn’t have the blood type, and she was never compatible in the first place. Unlike the rest of us, she wasn’t chosen; she herself chose this path. She VOLUNTEERED to fight in a war she wasn’t meant to be a part of.

//Realizing she’s said too much, Nozomi goes quiet. But instead of shutting down completely or deflecting with a lie, she simply asks Takumi to drop the subject...for now.

//I like Nozomi's reaction to this. She doesn't freak out about it, she just makes a calm request. It shows that she trusts him, not just to keep her secret, but to respect her boundaries. And considering how rocky they started off, this is a good thing.

//She’s not ready to talk about it, and yet she’s vulnerable enough in his presence to admit that.

//However, the situation however only gets more confusing after that.

//Nozomi quietly reveals that her mother was a researcher; a detail that immediately draws ANOTHER parallel to Karua, whose mother is also known to be involved in scientific work. We found this out during Karua's introduction in the prologue.

//But as Nozomi continues, the similarities begin to blur into something more unsettling. She offhandedly mentions that her own birth was one of her mother’s many experiments, implying she may have been created or modified as part of a larger scientific agenda. It’s this almost chilling admission that casts her entire existence in a more ambiguous, possibly artificial light.

//Adding to that mystery, Nozomi's mother is supposedly dead, while Karua’s mother is still alive...

//...as far as WE presume, at least. The truth is, we have never MET Karua's mother. She only talks about how she's never home, so the possibility that Karua's mother could be gone is also non-zero.

//There's a chance that Karua's mother did pass away, and Karua never really talked about it to the Sumino family.

//And then there’s the matter of their fathers. Both Nozomi and Karua lost their fathers in car accidents during childhood. That parallel feels too specific to be coincidence, yet the emotional texture around each story is distinct enough to prevent an easy conclusion.

//I just want to give this game credit for doing a really good job at handling the Nozomi/Karua mystery. Because no mystery in this game has fucked with my brain more than this one.

//These two seem to share a mirrored origin, as if they’re reflections of one another rather than entirely separate people. On the surface, they appear fundamentally different in personality, outlook, and role in the story, but they are strikingly aligned in appearance, backstory, connections to scientific institutions, and a sense of being shaped by forces beyond their control.

//The game is walking a fine line, skillfully feeding just enough symmetry to make you suspicious, while also presenting enough divergence to keep you uncertain.

//There have been so many possibilities and explanations brought up so far. Are they sisters? Clones? Variants from different timelines?

//None of those feel right, and yet, there's no clearly obvious way to explain it either, other than Karua and Nozomi just ARE the same person. But again, even THAT doesn't feel right with all that we know so far!

DAY 61:

//By the time Takumi and Nozomi return to the academy the next morning, having weathered the storm overnight, they're greeted at the entrance by Eito, who’s waiting with unexpected news.

//Though their original reason for venturing out was to gather ingredients to make medicine for Moko, it turns out that Moko has already made a full recovery in their absence. And sure enough, when we return to the cafeteria, there she is, waiting for us.

//(GOD she is so absurdly big...!)

//Upon reuniting, Moko properly introduces herself for the first time, and her presence INSTANTLY shifts the atmosphere. What follows is a heartwarming reunion between her and Nozomi.

//As for Moko herself...Yeah, I REALLY like her!

//It becomes clear pretty quickly that all the good feats Nozomi spouted about Moko before are true. She's loud, goofy, and delightfully over-the-top, she barrels into the scene with an energy that’s impossible to ignore. Her personality is larger than life, and in just this brief introduction, she manages to bring levity and laughter.

//There’s something incredibly endearing about how unfiltered and open she is, even when she's saying some kind of violent bullshit. She has a kind of “big sister” presence, but not in a solemn or protective way, more in the sense that she’s the type to ruffle your hair, tease you relentlessly, and then throw you over her shoulder affectionately.

//Even in this short exchange, it’s hard not to smile when she’s on screen.

//Although, we do get a very brief hint that something's not quite right with her when everyone asks if she's fit and fighting ready to combat the Invaders. More on that in a bit though.

DAY 62:

//Takumi begins today dwelling on his discussions with Nozomi, and isn't really giving much attention to her accidental confession. Instead, he's focusing more in the experimental side of things.

//Assuming Nozomi IS Karua, he suspects that the experiments that Nozomi underwent is the reason why she doesn't remember him. Which...you know, I'm willing to give credence on this line of thinking. Even if I am left guessing, that's still a better avenue than nothing.

//But even with that, there's so much lore to unpack here.

//For reasons that I can't quite explain, I keep going to check up on the captured commander every morning before I head to the restaurant, thinking that she might do something or say anything to me. I kind of wanted to see if anything had changed behind the scenes.

//On the first day when I went to check on her she looked sad, but since then, her expression is more passive and she hasn't been saying anything. She's not been smiling or anything, but I keep going back to look.

//Entering the cafeteria, Moko is standing in the middle of the room and recounting a story that's making everyone laugh their asses off over it.

//Moko tells a lot of stories at breakfast over the course of these few days. The best part about them is I can't tell if they're tall tales or not, because knowing who's writing this game, these events are perfectly plausible.

//What made me laugh was that whenever all the characters are in a room together, I have a tendency to talk to all the characters I'm not supposed to talk to, then talk to the important character to progress the story; just so I don't miss out on all the optional dialogue. And this time when I did it, I talked to Ima, who was basically saying that he's worried that Kako would be inspired by Moko, and hopes that she doesn't start thinking she wants to be like her, followed immediately by Kako saying she wants to be just like her. That gave me a tickle.

//We actually cut to business quickly after the story, and as it turns out, Moko, suspiciously, doesn't remember anything when she got captured by the invaders, suggesting that her memory had been wiped. So we're unfortunately not getting much out of her on THAT front for the moment.

//Not that I expected we would. We don't tend to have a lot of luck with this kind of thing.

//It took me a while to click honestly. I thought that the game was suggesting that Shouma was going to have a romantic tension with the Invader we captured, but right now it seems more like he's treating her like a pet.

//RESPECTFULLY of course, but he's not quite seeing her as an equal human being. Or rather, maybe he is seeing her as an equal, but only because he himself thinks he's on a dog's level.

DAY 63:

//NOOOOTHING FUUUUCKING HAAAAPPEEEENED!

//Basically we just rinse and repeated what happened the previous day. Wake up, hear Moko chatting about shit in the cafeteria, something doesn't seem right, Free Time.

//I do have a couple small highlights. For one, you can talk to Yugamu in the hallway before you go to breakfast.

//Takumi and Yugamu haven't had a single wholesome interaction yet. Takumi just DOES NOT LIKE THIS MAN, haha.

//Similarly, Darumi clearly doesn't like Moko at all. But obviously, that's because happy situations where people are alive and merry are her kryptonite basically.

//And once again, Nozomi herself seems to be noticing more keenly that something is up with Moko.

DAY 64:

//That kind of culminates into today, and the following day too.

//The moment you walk into the cafeteria, you sense there's something off about Moko. Unlike the last two days, she’s not at her usual post telling the morning story, and instead looking distant and aloof in the corner, in a way that's kind of eerie.

//I actually kind of started getting chills at this point. I should have realized at that time that they must have meant something.

//More directly, the news for today is that through his interactions, Shouma has somehow taught the Invader to speak like a human. Or at the very least, he managed to teach her how to say the word "Beautiful" in their language.

//I honestly do feel a little bit bad for Shouma in this part of the story, because he clearly cares about the Invader we captured. But everyone else is treating her like a feral animal with rabies, and honestly, that might be the safer bet. But still, she doesn’t seem violent. I just hope Shouma’s attachment doesn’t end up getting someone hurt, or cause a rift in the group.

//Later that evening, Nozomi shows up at Takumi’s door, and invites him to a quiet classroom to talk privately. She says she suspects Moko is hiding something, which...yeah, no kidding. Moko’s whole vibe has been really off lately, despite having a really corny introduction.

//After a short conversation, Nozomi agrees to confront her. It's risky, but we need answers before this situation spirals any further out of control.

DAY 65:

//This is where things go from "Oh God" to "OH SHIT!"

//Remember how I mentioned that this part of the story is the most emotional trainwreck we've seen so far? Well, here's why.

//Moko tells another story in the morning, and I swear, these tales get more outlandish as things go along.

//But more importantly, Takumi suspects that Nozomi called Moko to the same room she called him the previous day, and worrying for her, he goes to eavesdrop.

//Things...don't go well.

//Kudos to Nozomi, she at least goes out of her way to explain thoroughly to Moko what she noticed, and why she was concerned, on top of giving her very good reasoning for it. But Moko's response is to blow up on her, and she even accuses her of being a fake friend, getting close for no reason other than wanting whatever information she forgot about the Invaders.

//And it becomes very clear very quickly why Moko is suddenly acting so untowards...and it's NOT pretty.

//Takumi goes to check up on Nozomi afterwards to see if she's okay, and ends up coming clean about eavesdropping.

//Side note, Nozomi's room is actually super cute and cozy looking. Not-Not really much of a big deal, kinda just wanted to mention it because I like it.

//Anyway, a conversation ensues, and Takumi comforts Nozomi, sympathizing with her, and Nozomi resolves to apologize to Moko in the morning.

//Things seem like they're really tense after Moko and Nozomi's argument, but then somehow, things get even worse.

//And by the way...get used to hearing me say that. Because for these last few days to cover here, we just get bad news after bad news after bad news, and we keep getting the shit beaten out of us by the narrative.

//The boy wreathed in the Undying Flames appears again in Takumi’s room that night, and as we are already aware of by now, every time he shows up, disaster follows. First, it was Sirei’s death, then Hiruko vanished, etcetera.

//Takumi doesn’t waste a second. He bolts after the boy, convinced the ghost is headed toward the Defense Room (Not sure why because if the ghost was looming in the school he'd have multiple chances to get to the Defense Room, but...okay)

//But instead of catching up to him, he runs straight into Moko in the hallway. And this is where everything gets surreal.

//Moko's dialogue starts glitching with random capital letters in it. Her sprite begins to warp as well, and as Takumi follows her, her features become twisted and grotesque.

//When Takumi finally reaches the Defense Room, it’s not the boy waiting there, but Moko. And what he sees is nothing short of a nightmare. Moko is standing far too close to the barrier of Undying Flames. Takumi tries to pull her back, to stop her from breaching whatever lies behind the fire, but then she turns...

//OH FUCK MY ASS!!!??

//Yeah, not gonna lie, even with the buildup, this CG scared the SHIT out of me! It was WAY more horrifying than I thought it would end up being, and it's enough to make someone pull a Tsubasa and throw the hell up.

//When I first saw what was going on, I had the sickening thought that what happened is the Invaders turned Moko into one of them when they captured her. I haven't talked about it explicitly, but I had this theory before that the Invaders weren’t born, but were actually humans twisted into something else. If they captured Moko, maybe that’s what happened to her. And maybe all of her weird mannerisms the previous few days were just the result of her humanity slipping away.

//Just as things spiral completely out of control, not only does Nozomi appear, but the Undying Flames react, almost like they recognize her presence. They lash out at "Moko," hurling her out of the room and out of the school entirely.

//Takumi and Nozomi go to get her, but before that, Takumi insists they suit up. So with it being just the two of them, and with no alarms sounding, they jump into the battlefield.

//Before we fight, we get a few more cutscenes of Nozomi trying to get through to Moko. I get where she's coming from, like, she really wants to believe there’s still a piece of her friend left in that thing, but man, she’s really slow to accept that Moko is long gone.

//It’s rough to watch honestly. The story is putting Nozomi through the emotional wringer, and she barely gets a breath before it throws her into another devastating scene.

//The first round of the fight kicks off with just Nozomi and Takumi squaring off against the thing wearing Moko’s face, and a swarm of smaller, shadow-like creatures she summons.

//I'm gonna be completely honest, I wasn’t expecting her to hit that hard (despite, you know, the fact that Moko is a wrestler), so Takumi actually got taken out in the first round. Luckily, he did enough damage, and Nozomi finished Moko off pretty quickly.

/.Visually, this whole display is horrifically stunning. Not only is the enemy design grotesque, but the dialogue cuts deep. The horror elements are firing on all cylinders, and I think this is the closest I've ever been to finding one of Kodaka's games genuinely scary.

//Thankfully, backup arrives just in time. The rest of the gang shows up finally, where Yugamu puts his bizarre and encyclopedic knowledge of the human body to use, and explains the full scope of the situation.

//As it turns out, Moko wasn’t possessed, and she didn’t turn into anything. What we’ve been fighting isn’t Moko at all. It’s an Invader Commander wearing her skin, and it's been im impersonating her from the start.

//Looking back, this explains A LOT. It explains how and why Moko was able to get through the wall of fire without any hemoanima-based fire hydrant, and ALSO why when she showed up, the school alarm sounded. It's kinda freaky looking back and noticing all the oddities.

//Then Fake Moko turns up the nightmare factor, as she starts creating twisted shadow versions of the team; one for each of us. It’s a full-blown shadow clone battle, and honestly, it’s a fun mechanic.

//Darumi throws out a meta-comment pre-fight, "Clones make things easier for the devs," which cracks me up even as I’m clenching through the chaos.

//Honestly, this battle, at least for the first half, is TOUGH! More than I expected. The shadow clones have all our moves and abilities, and the only saving grace is that they don't have much health, meaning one good super move is taking them out easily. It's best to make sure you use the characters who can hit in a wide area with their attacks, like Gaku or Ima.

//But I make a point to let Nozomi land the final blow. She’s earned it.

//When the Invader finally collapses, it drops the mask. I'm impressed because this wasn't just mimicry. This thing had access to all of Moko’s memories, her voice, her habits, everything. It was a near-perfect copy. The only reason we even noticed something was wrong was because of the subtle breaks.

//Then comes the gut punch: the commander confirms it. The real Moko is dead. There’s no saving her. She’s gone. And with that, any hope of her returning to the team dies too.

//On top of that, the commander's initial plan was to go in under the guise of Moko being sick, and get to the Defense Room without anyone noticing. But because Nozomi never left its side, that was impossible. They tried to do it on the day Nozomi left with Takumi, which is why Moko conviniently woke up.

//So we're probably not even gonna be able to see what Moko can do until we do another playthrough, where we might get a chance to save her before she gets captured.

//This affects everyone pretty badly, because they'd all grown to really like Moko, only now finding out she was never the real deal. Just a copy that was out to get them all. The scene ends with Eito killing it when it went silent.

//Out of rage, detest, and spite against the Invaders for what they did to Moko, the others are ready to take it out on the Invader we’ve been keeping locked up, the one Shouma’s been trying to reach. Ultimately though, they’re simply heartbroken, betrayed, and just looking for somewhere to put that pain.

//But before it explodes into another tragedy, Eito steps in. Then Takumi. And, in what might be the most heartbreaking part of all, even Nozomi asks everyone to stop. Despite being ridden with Despair over finding out her best friend was killed by the enemy and impersonated, she rightfully points out that now's not really a good time. They should come to a conclusion in the morning.

DAY 66:

//No, far from it. Day 65 was an emotional beating in and of itself, but waking up literally the next morning, and things somehow go from ABSOLUTELY AWFUL to EVEN WORSE!

//We honestly shouldn't have even brought up the possibility of killing the Invader we captured, because lo and behold, that bitch ESCAPED from the cage!

//The timing is way too convenient. The lock on her holding cell has been clearly broken, not picked or bypassed, and considering she didn't have the means of getting out on her own because her abilities were deactivated, someone let her out. That much is obvious.

//Naturally, all eyes turn to Shouma. He had the motive and he had the access, since he was assigned to watch her. It adds up on the surface, but even the characters themselves point out that it still doesn’t sit right. Shouma doesn't have the emotional will to betray everyone, as much as he cared for the Invader and as much as he tried to defend her. Plus, he had the key to her cage, so why would he break the lock.

//Personally, I suspect Eito again. He's still my prime suspect for killing Sirei and making Hiruko vanish, as well as burning our food. So this could be the next phase of his plan.

//The problem is I really don't understand his angle this time, assuming that he IS the traitor.

//Then again, I never understand what his angle is. He’s clearly trying to weaken us from within for whatever reason, but this seems like a really unprompted tactic. Why release someone we were planning to execute anyway?

//Takumi, on the other hand, doubles down on blaming the Undying Flames Boy. He’s convinced the ghost is orchestrating all of this from the shadows.

//But Nozomi, ever the voice of reason despite everything, finally pushes back, finally pointing out that without the boy’s sudden appearance, Takumi never would have found Fake Moko in time. If anything, the boy SAVED us.

//I don't really get why Takumi is so insistent the Undying Flames boy is evil when he hasn't really done anything untowards yet. Takumi might just be that stupid, or at the very least, he's not spending much time thinking about it.

//And just as we’re all knee-deep in suspicion and tension, the situation gets even worse. Turns out, the escaped Invader didn’t leave alone.

//One thing that everyone noticed early that morning is that the Tsukumo Twins didn't show up to breakfast. We assumed they were late again, because they both slept in after the last big battle we did, but the situation is...far worse than we thought.

//Takumi goes to the Entrance Hall, and as he does, Kako suddenly comes back in, dressed in her Class Armor, and no sign of Ima. She passes out, and after she recovers, we find out that the Invader left the academy and took him hostage.

//Ima. The newest member of our team. The one who just started opening up, started fitting in. And now he’s gone.

//But...haha...SAY IT WITH ME EVERYONE! "IT! GETS! WORSE!"

//The fire extinguishers in the entrance hall and the emergency ones on the bus are BOTH BROKEN. So not only can we not get outside the Wall of Flames to chase after Ima and save him but we’re essentially TRAPPED IN THE SCHOOL! Surrounded by the Undying Flames, with no clear way out.

//This is bad for multiple reasons. The main one is that we obviously can't rescue Ima from whatever fate he's currently suffering, but also we get most of our resources from random shit we happen to scavange in the wild. Now we can't even do that.

// might be misremembering here, but I'm pretty sure Takumi blames the Undying Flames boy again.

I still don’t understand Takumi’s obsession with him. Every time he’s shown up, something helpful has happened, if not directly, then indirectly. He’s never spoken a word, never raised a hand against us. If anything, he seems like the only one trying to guide us. And yet, Takumi can’t let it go.

//The loss of Ima hits hard. We were just beginning to get to know him, to fold him into the rhythm of the group. And now, just like Hiruko, and just like Moko, he’s gone. Probably permanently. At this point, I’m scared to hope for anything different.

Conclusion:

//After my disappointments from the previous arc of the story, this one brought some amazing plot points, mysteries, and generally awesome times all around. Here's my takeaways:

The mystery of how Nozomi is connected to Karua, or whether they are the same person or not, is starting to become more and more layered, and as such, I gradually grow more and more interested in it.

I feel really bad for Nozomi in this part. She got emotionally damaged by what happened and I don't know how she's going to cope with it going forward.

Shouma's unexpected fondness and budding relationship with the Invader Commander, though it only lasted a few days, was unexpected, but not unwelcome. I enjoyed it.

The whole situation with Moko turning out to be an enemy commander in disguise was so sad, so TERRIFYING, and so BRILLIANT. Day 65 genuinely had my heart racing the whole time.

My hopes for Ima's survival after this are not high. Now that the Invaders have him, I think it's light's out for him. He's in my prayers though.

I am honestly a little disappointed that both Ima and Moko are gone. I only got to use Ima in two battles, and I didn't get to use Moko in ANY. I'm really hoping my theory about the timeline reset is right so I can use them both for real.

//Man, you don't know how good it feels to finally be back to playing this game again. Like I said, I was starting to go into withdrawals during my break. I'm enjoying it THAT much, even with all the despair and pain it's giving me.

//Can't wait to see what happens next~

-Mod

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