#class 11 physics chapter 3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

animasola86 · 5 months ago

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LOST & FOUND 🫂 CH2

You find yourself at the lowest point of your life, with no way out, stuck in your own darkness, but then a woman approaches you with an offer that may change your life…

soft!Daddy!dom x Mommy!domme x little girl!reader

WARNINGS: F!Reader insert. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Depression, anxiety, mental health issues. Mommy/Daddy issues. Pet names. Mommy/Daddy kink. Dd/Md/lg dynamics. Age gap. Dom/sub undertones. Fluff. (More notes under the cut!)

WORDS: 6.8k 🔷️ READ ON AO3 🔷️ 1–2–3–4–5–6 7–8–9–10–11–12

A/N: This is the angsty-backstory/how-they-met episode. No smut here, just a bit of plot and a lot of angst. The real smut will commence in chapter 3. (This also marks the first part of the past-timeline which will continue in chapter 4 and onward.) If you don't care to read 6.8k words of backstory, there's a TL;DR at the end of the post! (For more information on Reader, check out the A/N in chapter 1.)

Chapter 1 🔷️ Chapter 2 🔷️ Chapter 3

Several months earlier

Sometimes it takes one single stone to bring the entire avalanche down on somebody. Or however that saying goes. You couldn't care less when it eventually happened to you. It started when you stopped going to college. You just couldn't anymore, physically and mentally. It was a chore to leave your room, an entire obstacle course to even think about going to your classes, meeting other people, doing anything anymore. And you still have no idea how it all came to be. It just happened.

You stopped going, but life went on, and in the end you had to drop out, missed too many classes, couldn't get back on track in time, lost contact to anyone you'd considered a friend before. And when it was official, you lost your room in the dorm. Because it was student living, and you were no longer a student. So you gathered the few things you owned (which wasn't much) and left the place. It was all a daze back then, a blind stumble through your darkness, an aimless wandering, your mind either too empty or too full to realize that you were now homeless.

And not even that. Prior to being kicked off campus, you were let go from your job in the coffee shop because you had excused yourself too many times. You tried to return to it, because the people were nice, but even they couldn't take you back because now you didn't have a home address anymore, and somehow that was important? How were you supposed to afford rent when you couldn't even get a job because you didn't have a place to stay yet? Life wasn't fair, and it accumulated quickly.

That first day, you stumbled through the streets, headless, still not quite understanding what was happening. You were numb, unable to process what your life had turned into.

You slept on a bench in the park that night, luckily it was late spring, already quite warm, the only good thing about your whole situation, but even now you realize that you were really lucky that night because who knows what could have happened. A young woman, alone in the dark, helpless. It's scary just how lucky you had been.

You made it back to the coffee shop, hoping they had changed their mind. They hadn't, but they allowed you to spend the day sitting inside, trying to get your bearings, thinking what you should do. The problem was, you didn't have any options. You had a little bit of money saved up, but it was not enough to pay the first-time payment for a new apartment, and you'd burn through most of it by just staying even at the cheapest hotel.

Your worst enemy, however, was your pride. Asking former friends to crash on their couch for a bit? Never in a million years. You had ghosted them, ignored them for so long they'd probably hate you now, and you couldn't face them, ashamed and insecure as you were.

On top of that, even before you fell into your black hole, you had made an effort to burn all the bridges of your old life when you moved to the other side of the country, leaving it all behind to start fresh.

The 'safety' of your family and your hometown was too far away now. Plane tickets were horribly expensive (as was train travel or a simple bus ride), you also didn't own a car, and asking them to send you money would never ever be an option either. Not just because of your pride (though admitting defeat and returning with your tail between your legs was also high on your no-chance-in-hell-list), but because you knew they wouldn't come to your rescue anyway. Somehow you knew they didn't care about you anymore.

Especially your mother had not been happy when you were accepted into a college all the way on the other side of the country, but for you, it was like a dream come true. A new beginning. All on your own. Finally. The first years truly were like paradise. But then, as if someone had flipped a switch, completely out of the blue, it all came down, and buried you alive. And as days turned into weeks turned into months, where you couldn't even leave your dorm room anymore, you kept seeing your mother's face in front of you, condescending as ever, hissing 'I knew it...' into your ear.

You felt like the biggest failure, letting everyone down, especially yourself. And you told yourself you didn't deserve help, maybe you deserved to rot at the bottom of this deep dark pit. Dropping out of college, losing your room, spending your time on the streets, was only the tip of the iceberg of a months long depression you saw no way out of.

You were stuck, too scared and stubborn and self-loathing to ask for help, unable to move back or forward. And when the coffee shop closed for the night that second day, you found yourself huddled in a nearby doorway, unable to even go back to the park or find somewhere else to stay. They told you about a homeless shelter, but you couldn't face any people right now. It felt impossible.

But it didn't stop other people from approaching you. Again, you were more than lucky, you could have met who knew who, you were aware that there were bad people out there, but instead it was a woman. A beautiful woman in a business suit who looked as if she'd stepped right out of one of those fancy fashion magazines. You stared at her in awe and confusion when she crouched down in front of you.

“You shouldn't be here,” she said, her voice so smooth and velvety and gentle, a subtle accent shining through her words.

What she said made you frown though, and you started to move, knowing you shouldn't loiter here like this, but her hand shot out and found your shoulder, holding you in place. You froze, blinking at her.

“Not the safest place for a young woman like yourself. Do you need help?”

There it was, the dreaded question. You wanted to say yes, scream it at the top of your aching lungs, please, yes, help me, but you couldn't. You didn't want to be a burden, you wanted to rot away in your little hole and that was it. It was a strain to ask for anything, had always been, you liked being independent, but that ship had sailed a long time ago.

So all you replied with was a pathetic sniffle that you hid by wiping at your face. It was numb by this time, too many tears, countless panic attacks, it had been all too much. And again the woman grabbed your wrist, pulled your hand away, watched you with genuine concern on her pretty face. You only sobbed more under her attention.

“Shh, it's alright. It's going to be okay,” she tried to soothe you, the back of her finger wiping at your wet cheek. You startled away, gasping, hitting your head on the wall behind you, which caused you to cry even harder. “Oh, sweet girl, it's alright,” she repeated, and then she pulled you into a hug, right against her impressive bust, and it was warm and soft and the touch so confusing and overwhelming that you just went limp in her embrace, sniffling pathetically.

You still don't know why she treated you like that, you were a stranger, a girl living on the streets for all she knew, and yet she looked right through you and saw how lost you were. You can't really remember what happened next, but she seemed to have convinced you to come with her, and she brought you to a diner that was still open, where she ordered food and drinks for you, and you sat there, stunned and still overwhelmed, and let it happen, mesmerized by this strange woman.

And you ate and talked, pushed by her attentive eyes and concerned questions, told this stranger everything, cried some more, had another panic attack, and as you thought she would leave then, too troubled or unimpressed by your story, she asked you something else. Something that would change your life forever.

“Do you know what a submissive is, sweetheart?” The question came so natural. She was sipping on her coffee, watching you over the rim of the cup, a little sparkle in her beautiful eyes.

You frowned and shook your head. You knew the word as an adjective, of course, but you weren't sure what she was insinuating by phrasing it like that.

She smiled softly and explained it to you, patiently and as if she was talking about the weather, and you felt your cheeks burning up, your attention focused on her and the picture she was painting. Your head was swirling with words like dominance and caregiver, deference and submission, guidance and devotion, and phrases like giving up control and letting someone else take over. She never actually said it, but there was a deeply sexual undertone to it all, which confused you as much as it overwhelmed you.

She finished with: “So my partner and I are looking for a girl like this, someone willing to let go for us, someone we can take care of, hold and pamper, you know? We've been looking for a while, but never found the right one.”

You stared at her as she leaned her elbow on the table and her chin into her palm, her eyes wandering over your flushed face. “You would live with us, you'd have a home. You'd be given tasks and chores, because, yes, nothing is for free in this world, but you'd be taken care of, you wouldn't have to worry about anything anymore.”

She inhaled deeply, leaning back in her seat. You watched her, your mind reeling, her words echoing in your head. You were more than intrigued, but it all sounded too good to be true. How was it possible that at your lowest point, when everything seemed hopeless, you'd meet a woman who'd tell you about a way out? And all you had to do was follow their orders, do what they told you to do, let them take control? Honestly, in your current state, at this point, you'd do anything to get out of your own head.

But the longer you stared at her and the longer the silence dragged on between you, the more you deflated, already knowing she'd be disappointed in you too, sooner or later. You chewed on your bottom lip, lowering your eyes, distancing yourself from this possibility even before it could come to fruition. Can't be disappointed if you don't have any expectations, right?

She moved, extending a hand to touch your arm, her long slim fingers hooking under it, slowly dragging downwards until she could get a hold of your hand. You looked up in confusion, tears burning in your eyes. She squeezed your hand gently.

“Will you be our submissive, sweetheart?” she asked quietly, her eyes boring into yours. “Will you give it a chance? There are no strings attached, you come with me tonight, I'll show you the house, you meet my partner, and then you can decide what to do, okay? I know I'm just a stranger now, and telling you to trust me certainly sounds weird, right? But I mean it, you can trust me. I really want to help you.”

You parted your lips, wanting to reply, but only a sob came out. You didn't deserve this. And this stranger was too nice, too generous, offering you all this? Where was the catch? Were you being pranked? Was she a serial killer looking for her next victim? Maybe she just saw another charity case in you, someone to help for publicity or something? All those thoughts flooded your mind as you watched her, but the longer she patiently held your hand, smiling softly at you, the calmer you became.

She didn't look foul or like she had an ulterior motive. She seemed sincere. You swallowed hard, licking your dry lips. In the end you came to the conclusion: it's either this or the park again, and even if she wanted to kill you or do whatever else with you, it beat being alone and miserable. And if you were meant to die that night, then it would happen anyway. Besides: you didn't have anything left to lose.

So from the lowest point of your life, without seeing a way out on your own, you looked at the woman and nodded, biting your lower lip, blinking away your last tears. “Yes,” you quaked out, squeezing her hand back.

Her smile grew wider, and it reached all the way to her eyes, little creases breaking through her perfect make-up. She seems real enough, you thought. Genuine. She really wanted to help you.

And so she took you with her, and as you sat next to her in the back of her car (which was driven by a man in a black uniform and a hat), you realized you might have struck gold with this woman. Your tears dried on your cheeks as you watched in awe how you drove through the better part of town until you reached a large house, almost a mansion, fenced-in and with a fancy gate, something you'd never seen up close before.

She guided you inside, you in your dirty clothes with your bulging backpack that held all your belongings, while her expensive shoes clicked along the hardwood floors, and at first you felt completely out of place. You didn't belong here and these people would notice this soon enough. Whatever they expected of you, you'd never be able to meet those expectations. They were rich, privileged, and you... were nothing.

She seemed to feel your growing worries and grabbed your hand, silently taking you upstairs to a room somewhere in the middle of a long hallway. You were too overwhelmed to even notice the interior of the place, but when she opened the door and gently motioned you through it, your haze lifted slightly. You were in a bedroom, a simple bedroom with a big bed and two nightstands, a large closet, a desk and a bookshelf, and a door presumably leading into a bathroom. It was somewhat posh, but it was also simple, and it was...

“Yours,” the woman said, her hands on your shoulders. “If you say yes.”

Still biting your lip, you turned your head to look at her. She tilted hers, one of her hands gently cupping your face before her thumb pressed on your bottom lip.

“No need to be nervous, sweetheart,” she told you. “How about you take a nice long shower, get freshened up. Maybe you'll find something to wear in the closet, have a look. And when you're done, and when you're willing, come down and we'll have another talk, yes? Don't feel pressured. If you change your mind, you can still stay the night, no problem. But I'd really like you to consider my offer. You may not see it right now,” she adds, stepping around you to fully cup your face, leaning down a little to look into your eyes, “but we have been looking for someone like you for so long. You are the right one, sweet girl. Give it a chance, okay?”

You swallowed, nodding into her hands. Then she leaned in and actually pressed her lips to your forehead, and the gesture seemed to already settle your raging thoughts. She was so gentle, so nice, it almost broke your heart. Leaning back, she watched you, a smirk on her full lips, and without hesitation she leaned in again, and this time she touched her mouth to yours.

Your eyes went wide, the touch short but intense, a moment frozen in time. And while your mind was silenced, your body became alive with a strange throbbing, an urging need, a feeling you hadn't felt in ages. You'd been numb for so long, this felt like a wake-up-kiss. When she retreated and straightened up, you gave her a shy smile that caused her to issue a short little laugh.

“Take your time, honey, I'll be waiting downstairs,” she told you, caressing your cheek before she walked past you and out of the room.

And you were floating, barely able to think as you walked into the bathroom, stripped out of your clothes and enjoyed a hot shower you had needed for so long, or so it felt. It all fell off you as the water cascaded down your body. A new chance. A new life. In a house like this? Everything had looked so bleak before, tainted by doubts, but now the colors were coming back, one hue at a time.

When you were done, you dried off with the softest towels you'd ever experienced, and with one of them wrapped around your torso, you walked back into the room and towards the closet. It was wide and sleek with sliding doors, and opening it showed you a variety of clothes, but your eyes quickly wandered to the dresses hanging on velvety hangers. All colors one could think of, all shapes and sizes, and in the end you chose one that matched your eyes. Somehow it fit you perfectly also. It was elegant and cute at the same time.

You felt like a new person. Watching yourself in the mirror that stood in the corner, you felt mixed emotions though. It had been a while since you'd taken a long look at yourself. The dress went barely over your knees, and looking down, you realized you hadn't shaved your legs in a long time it seemed. Shame flushed your body, drowning out the excitement for a moment. Self-care hadn't been on the agenda while you were wasting your life away...

Sighing loudly, you shook that thought out of your head. No matter now. You had to look ahead! So you grabbed some complementary tights from the closet (and a nice looking pair of panties alongside it, colors you'd never buy for yourself), and easily covered the flaws of your neglected body. You also found a little matching cardigan to hide your arms. And slowly, you felt better. Like a person again, not entirely like yourself, but it was a start.

In a strange way, this was giving you serious princess-makeover-vibes. A few hours ago you were sitting in the dirt, in the dark, lonely and forgotten by the world, spat out to deal with the broken pieces of your life, and now... you were standing in this nice looking bedroom, surrounded by wealth and warmth. You did pinch yourself a lot that night, but you always came to the conclusion that you were not dreaming.

But when you walked up to the door, about to leave the safe space of this room, your heart sank. Doubts came rushing back, and you wondered how this could be real. A woman you'd never met before came up to you and asked you to be her and her partner's submissive, basically their little pet, if you understood her correctly, you'd get a home, and they would... well, do whatever they wanted with you? (Whatever that meant. You were not so sure.) All you had to do was listen to them, do as they said, give up control?

It all sounded rather strange. But what were your options? Go back to live on the streets? Wallow in your failure at life? (Take the walk of shame back to the life you had tried so hard to forget about?) You inhaled deeply, squared your shoulders, flattened the skirt of your dress, attempted to bring order into the mess that was your towel-dried hair, and then, you went to meet them. You could only go forward anyway.

You heard voices from downstairs when you approached the large staircase. Your heart beat faster the closer you got to the room they were in. Your tights-clad feet tapped over the expensive looking hardwood floors, and it would have been a good idea to distract yourself by looking around and taking in the splendor surrounding you, but you couldn't look, couldn't focus, your mind fixated on meeting these people who wanted to give you a new life, without really knowing you.

Why did they trust you so much? What did the woman see in you that made it clear to her that you were the right one (whatever that meant)? You couldn't see it. But it wasn't up to you, apparently.

Taking a deep breath, you extended a shaking hand to grab the door handle, then paused, breathing harder, before you decided to knock. It was a frail attempt, barely audible over the voices still coming from behind the door. So you knocked again, your heart nearly exploding in your chest. And suddenly: silence.

“Come in!” sounded a female voice, before you heard footsteps coming closer.

You pulled the door open and stepped into what looked like a giant living room. Your eyes moved quickly over the interior. Couches, plural, facing each other, a large fireplace (with a TV above it) on one wall, bookshelves on the other. Big potted plants in the corners, a lot of black and white and wood colors. And in the middle of it, next to a little cart laden with alcohol bottles and glasses, stood a man.

For a moment all you saw was him. Tall, dark, handsome, came to mind. His eyes were on you, so intense you couldn't move another step. There was an air of authority around him, enhanced by the black suit he was wearing, by the way he stood, tall and intimidating, wide shoulders, long limbs, muscular but not too bulky, his angular jaw covered in a trimmed beard, short dark hair thick but kept in order. He watched you with a hard expression, and you had never felt smaller in your life.

The woman approached you then, and by touching your arm, broke the spell the man had on you. You blinked and looked at her, and she was just as stunning. Perfect skin, heavy eyes and full lips, a mane of dark hair cascading down her back. She had changed and was now wearing a tight black dress and high heels, and her legs were long, so long and toned and slender. Together they looked as if they'd just come from some kind of gala.

And here you were, in your borrowed dress, towel-dry-hair in messy waves all around your flushed face, hiding your shame under layers of too colorful clothes. You swallowed thickly, blinking again as you lowered your gaze.

“Here you are,” the woman addressed you, gently taking your hand and pulling you into motion. “I'm so glad you came down. Had a nice shower?” Her voice was soft and friendly, and you shot her a nervous smile and a nod. She pulled you to one of the couches and firmly nudged you to sit down. You did, still fighting the overwhelming emotions.

“Would you like a drink?” the man asked, and you looked up like a deer in headlights, staring at him, his voice a low grinding sound in the atmosphere, a timbre that made your core shake.

“I... I don't drink,” you stammered, your eyes flickering over his handsome face. “Thank you, though.”

A shadow crossed his features, but he nodded. “A water, then?”

You licked your suddenly dry lips, your pulse thrumming in your ears. “Yes, please,” you whispered and looked down at your hands. They were shaking badly, so you grabbed the hem of your dress and kneaded it roughly.

You heard the clinking of ice cubes, before heavy footsteps approached you. Looking up slowly, you saw the man holding a tall glass of water towards you. For a moment you just stared at his hands. Beautiful hands, big with long fingers, short nails, veins and tendons snaking under tight skin. You felt your cheeks burning up. To cover the strange excitement crashing through you, you quickly grabbed the glass, giving him a short nod and smile, unable to fully meet his eyes, and when your fingers brushed against his, a garbled gasp escaped you.

“There's no reason to be nervous, darling,” he told you, his hands closing around yours to stabilize the shaking glass. You stiffened nonetheless, your eyes widening.

You took a deep breath and somehow found the courage to look up again. “Y-yes, sir, s-sorry, and, uh, th-thank you,” you fell into an awkward stutter, meeting his dark eyes. A subtle twitch went through his face at your words, a soft smile growing on his lips. He let go of your hands and walked away with a nod, settling in an armchair close-by, still watching you like a hawk.

The woman then sat down beside you, throwing one arm around your shoulders as you tried to take a sip of the cold water. You almost spluttered when you felt her fingers tracing down your arm. “So,” she said with a sigh. “How about we get to know each other a little, hm?”

You saw her exchanging a glance with the man, who leaned back in his chair, large hands splayed out on the armrests as he crossed his legs. “What's your name, girl?” he asked.

You told him. The woman then introduced herself and her partner. They were not married, she told you, but worked together. He was in his late thirties, she was in her early thirties, they'd met through work and continued to cross paths until they moved in together, pursuing the same goals. A strange relationship, you thought (but you'd learn more about that very soon). She did most of the talking, giving you snippets of their lives, while the man watched you and nodded occasionally or added some details. But whatever they told you, mainly what they did for a living, didn't really register in your reeling mind (you couldn't even remember their names at this point).

You were too focused on just sitting there, holding your glass of water, trying to make a good impression by listening intently (or pretending to do so), being polite, hoping they wouldn't change their minds about you. When they were done telling you about themselves, the man uncrossed his legs and leaned his elbows on his thighs, clasping his hands as he looked at you. And then he asked the dreaded question:

“Tell me about yourself, darling.”

Your throat tightened immediately. Over the last months, you'd lost yourself, buried in doubts and dark thoughts, and thinking about the person you once were hurt in a strange, crippling way. You still tried to answer him, told him where you came from, how happy you were to have been accepted to this town's college, to finally leave your hometown, how fun it had been... at the beginning.

But when it came to retelling the events (or the lack thereof) that had led to your downfall, you choked up, quickly hiding the croak in your voice by taking a big sip of water. You felt the woman's hand on your arm, giving it a gentle caress, but it only made it worse.

Tears spilled from your lashes when you tried to tell him what a failure you were. A loud exhale (akin to a sigh but less condescending) escaped him, and when the woman took the glass from you, you looked around in confusion, blinking against the tears burning in your eyes.

“Come here, girl,” sounded his voice through the large room, the dominant tone causing you to stiffen.

But you stood immediately, shuffling towards him, your hands clenched into fists, your head bowed. His long fingers brushed down your arms until he gently grabbed your waist and pulled you between his legs. You ended up sitting on his thigh, a pathetic sniffle escaping you as he held you, tilting his head to look at you.

The hand that wasn't curled around your hip moved up to your face, fingertips brushing over your wet cheeks. “Don't cry, it's okay,” he said soothingly. You inhaled deeply, trying to settle against him, but you were too nervous to relax, sitting stiff on his leg, like a fucking child on Santa's lap or something. It was weird and you felt horrible, small and insignificant, ugly and pathetic in the presence of such a handsome and successful man.

His hand cupped your face, his thumb pushing against your chin to turn your head slightly. You met his eyes, even though your vision was blurry. You blinked, unable to hold his gaze for long, overcome by a sudden wave of embarrassment.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his voice soft but the air of authority never left him. You jerked your chin up and swallowed, looking at him, your cheeks burning up even more. A smile grazed his hard face. “Good girl.”

His praise left a warm feeling in your stomach, and the longer you spent in the captivity of his dark eyes, the calmer you felt. His smile widened as he rubbed his thumb over the corner of your mouth. The motion gave you the courage to smile back, stiff and awkward, but it was still a smile.

“Tell me about your parents,” he then asked quietly, his hand leaving your face to settle on your thigh, holding you in a loose embrace on his leg. “Why can't they help you?”

You took a shuddering breath and told him that you didn't exactly part on good terms, that they hadn't wanted you to leave your hometown. You hadn't been in contact with them for months, probably years, there was usually just the occasional holiday or birthday call, sometimes not even that. You didn't have the money to make the trek across the country to meet them, and neither did they. You didn't grow up poor, but it hadn't been easy either. You were one of many children, your mother remarrying seemingly every five years, and you never had a connection to your father or any of the men she pulled into your home.

The words just tumbled out of your mouth at this point, and you had no idea how that was even possible. This man was a stranger, and yet he managed to loosen your tongue by simply holding you on his lap, listening intently, watching you closely, giving you attention you'd never had before in your life. It felt cleansing, and when you were done, your chest moved easier, the tension in your body melting slowly. His hand rubbed over your back, the other tightening around your waist as he pulled you a little bit closer.

“I see,” he said quietly. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

A croaked laugh escaped you. You licked your lips and looked away. “Thank you for listening,” you replied in a breathy whisper, timidly looking back at him. A subtle cough sounded from behind you. You flinched and turned slightly to face the woman sitting on the couch with her arms and legs crossed. “Thank you too, for... for inviting me into your home, for... helping me,” you added, watching her with an apologetic smile. You'd honestly forgotten about her for a moment.

“We haven't done anything yet, honey,” she said, pursing her lips. “But I think we've said enough. I knew you were the right one. What do you think, papito?” she added, looking past you at the man.

His hand was back on your face, turning it towards him once more. His eyes bored into yours as he replied: “Yes, I think you found the one.” Your cheeks flushed with heat. “Are you aware what we're asking of you, sweet girl?”

“To... to be your... submissive,” you answered quietly, still not quite understanding what that meant, but maybe it was enough to just roll with it. Of course it wasn't.

“And what does that mean to you? Why would you want that?”

You bit your lip, frowning slightly. “I... I need... someone to... tell me what to do,” you whispered, lowering your eyes to stare at his lips instead. “I think... it would help me... to have someone who... guides me... because... because I can't –”

Suddenly he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. You gasped, your eyes wide. “Stop. You can,” he said, his voice harsh but there was a soft twinkle in his eyes. “You can do anything you put your mind to. You may need a little push into the right direction, but I will not tolerate you talking yourself down like this, okay? You hit a bump in the road, yes, but you will not wallow in it any longer, do you understand me?”

You stared at him, surprised and stunned by his words, by his dominant tone. “Yes, sir,” you breathed out, blinking slowly, your mind pausing the assault of doubts for a moment. “I'm sorry.”

He shook his head, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “No apologies. It's alright. Accept your failure and move on.” You felt tears burning in your eyes, his scrutinizing stare making you feel small all over again. “And no more tears. You have no reason to cry right now. We're offering you something that will change your life. It may not be easy at first, but I know you'll adjust. You're a fighter, I know it. You wouldn't be here if you weren't.”

Despite his demanding tone, you couldn't help it when a single tear slipped past your lashes after all. You quickly raised a hand and wiped at it, taking a shaking breath, ready to apologize again, but he just looked at you, stern but also somewhat gentle, patient. And you looked back, caught in his deep eyes, slowly feeling yourself relaxing again.

“We will give you a home, we will give you anything you want and need to find your footing again,” he continued quietly, his hand moving from your chin to curl around your head. “And you will do whatever we say. This is as much for you as it is for us. As you know, we've been looking for someone like you for a long time. It's not easy finding the right girl... but you're it, darling,” he said with a pointed look, pressing his fingertips into your hair, massaging your scalp in a very calming, almost hypnotizing fashion that made it hard not to purr under. His words only added to the sensation. “You are perfect. We can make this work, I am sure. If you're willing.”

“I am,” you croaked out quickly, leaning into his touch. “I want to. Please.”

“You will do anything we ask of you?”

His voice was low, his gaze still as intense. Behind you, you heard the woman getting up, the quiet click of her heels echoing in your ears as she approached you, putting her hands on your shoulders.

“Yes,” you breathed out, looking at him, before turning your head to look at her. You saw them exchanging a glance.

“Say it again,” she whispered, teasing her pointy nails into your clavicles. “Tell us what you want.”

“I... I want to be your submissive,” you said, shivering slightly, looking from her back to him. “I want you to tell me what to do. I will do anything you say.”

A soft smile cracked through the hard shell of his face, his gaze getting warmer, little creases visible in the corners of his eyes. While you watched him, you felt the woman's hands moving up the back of your neck until she gently tugged at your hair, turning you towards her, her face suddenly very close to yours, her lips brushing against your cheek.

“You'll be our little girl?” she asked in a low whisper, rubbing her nose against your jaw.

“Yes, ma'am,” you replied, breathing a bit harder, your mind reeling.

The man's fingers dug into the fabric of your dress when he leaned closer too, pressing his rough cheek to yours, the scratch of his beard sending deep shudders down your spine.

“Are you absolutely certain?” he asked, his voice a thrumming vibration through your head.

“Yes, sir,” you gasped out, closing your eyes for a moment, your heart thundering in your chest.

They both cradled you closer, her lips on your right cheek, his on your left. “Will you call me Mommy?” the woman breathed against your skin.

“And me Daddy?” the man echoed, rubbing his bearded chin against your jaw.

You could barely breathe, the warmth radiating through your body was overwhelming. But there were no doubts, no matter how strange their request. You felt safe in their embraces, special. A sigh full of relief slipped from your trembling lips.

“Yes,” you replied, leaning into them.

They kissed your cheeks again, their arms tight around you. As strange as it should feel, it didn't. It felt good. Exactly what you had needed. A warm embrace, someone to squeeze all the worries right out of you. You settled against them, feeling lighter than you'd ever felt before.

“Thank you,” you added quietly, your eyes fluttering open. You met his gaze first. “Daddy,” you addressed him, watching how his smile widened, crow's feet deepening, before you turned your head and looked at the woman behind you. “Mommy.” She issued a happy little squeal and hugged you closer, her lips peppering soft kisses to your cheek.

You smiled back, numb in a way that was almost content, your eyes closing again as you simply melted into them. You felt tired, happy but tired, as if you'd finally reached your destination, a place you hadn't expected at all. Where you could let go.

“My good girl,” the woman, Mommy, whispered against the shell of your ear before she dragged the tip of her tongue along it. “Let's get you into bed. It's been a long day for you, hm?”

You shivered deeply, but you didn't protest when she let go of you and you felt two strong arms lifting you up. “Let's give her some space tonight, okay?” the man, Daddy, said, surely addressing his partner. “Get her accustomed.”

She sighed. “Fine. But tomorrow, I'll take you shopping and we'll do your hair and your nails and, oh, we'll do whatever else we find on our way. I'll pamper you stupid, sweet girl,” she laughed, her hand on your face as you were being carried through the large house that was to be your new home.

“Don't overdo it,” his voice sounded in your ear. “She's not your doll. I'd prefer her looking as natural as possible, okay?”

They continued their conversation, a hushed back and forth you couldn't pay too much attention to anymore, as you felt yourself floating through space, snuggling into a warm chest, firm and hard, but soft enough to lose yourself in. Your head was heavy when it hit the soft pillow, the mattress of the bed denting around you as the two adults sat down on its edges.

“Sleep tight, darling,” Daddy whispered and leaned over you to press his lips to the corner of your mouth. You sighed, your hand twitching, wanting to grab him, hold onto him, but he was gone before you could reach him.

“Good night, Daddy,” you mumbled, feeling yourself slipping into the sweet void of sleep.

On your other side, a set of hands found your face, and you felt Mommy's lips on yours again, a soft press, a short lick, a deep sigh. “Good night, sweetheart,” she said against your mouth, her hot breath fanning over your face.

“Night, Mommy,” you muttered, barely able to get the words out.

“We'll see you tomorrow.” The low voice echoed in your empty head, and you fell asleep with a smile on your face, as you sank into the soft bed, cuddling into the covers someone pulled over you.

You felt like a little girl again (ignoring the fact that you were 23* and supposedly your own person), tugged in by your 'parents', and even though you barely knew these people, you felt safe with them, accepted and taken care of. Somehow through the fog in your head you knew that your life would take a turn now, into different times, better times, because now you had two guiding lights with you, following you into the darkness that had consumed your life, eager to pull you back out.

And you were here for it, willing to do anything they asked in return. Willing to endure anything if only it would distract you from the nagging voices in your head. And endure you did...

Chapter 1 🔷️ Chapter 2 🔷️ Chapter 3

End notes: *By the way, I just chose a random number. If you want Reader to be younger or older, please imagine her like that.

Also note that this is NOT a realistic representation of a BDSM relationship, I'm not a How-to-guide, I'm a writer juggling ideas around! This is fiction, remember?

Find below the TL;DR version of this chapter:

TL;DR: Reader drops out of college, is homeless and jobless, depressed and anxious, alone on the other side of the country with no friends and family, when a woman approaches her and takes her to a diner, asking her if she would like to be “her submissive”. Reader agrees, not really knowing what to expect, and the woman takes her to her home where she meets her partner. They ask again and she agrees, becoming their little girl, calling them Mommy and Daddy.

While you're here, I have a little side note to the tags I'm using: as a writer of original fiction, it is very hard to find any readers if I wouldn't poke my head into various fandoms, so I apologize if it irks you to see this kind of fiction under your favorite tags. But then maybe it's enough to pique your interest and you are already giving this a chance? Thank you if you do, maybe you can project your favorite blorbo(s) onto the characters present in this story.

Thank you for reading! New chapter every Saturday!

Up next: We go back to where Chapter 1 has ended and see how Mommy reacts to Daddy's plan.

MASTERLIST 🔷️ AO3 🔷️ ORIGINAL WORKS

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hivemuthur · 5 months ago

Text

The Game of Teaching Body - Ch. 2.

viktorxfemale!reader mature! (for now, I will mark later chapters as explicit when the time comes)

AU university, AU modern era, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, teasing, pinning, banter, eventual romance and therefore smut, Viktor is simultaneously a menace and needs a hug, TA Viktor

Ch.1. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.9. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12.

word count: 4K

tag: #the game of teaching body

summary: Reader is hit by a truck which is *university*. So, a lot of studying and a lot of frustrations. And the TA is being a pain in the ass, you know how it is. Some science talk, based on the remnants of my knowledge from uni.

author’s note: Guys, you have showered me with love, so I'm showering you with writing.

Cross-posted on AO3 + POV3rd Person Version

—

Sue was so fucking right. It had only been one week of freedom, and then the workload came crashing down on you. Suddenly, every class had a welcome test attached to it, and you found yourself buried under a mountain of homework—chemical equations to solve and analyse, essays, books to read, lab practice, and lectures to attend. There wasn’t any snowball effect; it all hit at once, and by the time you and Sue returned on the first Monday of the second week, you were carrying enough work to fill two mules, and it would still have been too heavy even for them.

“Your mum is calling,” Sue’s voice pulled you out of a particularly boring passage about physical chemistry in one of your shared workbooks. You would usually put your phones on the cabinet for study time, but the vibration had startled Sue for the third time in ten minutes, so she decided to address it.

“Ugh, can you put her on speaker? I’ll deal with this quickly, and I don’t want to move,” you rolled your eyes, catching Sue’s judgmental glare. She’s your mum!

“Kochanie, finally! I’ve been trying and trying, how are you doing?” Your mum’s voice filled the room with her familiar heavy accent, though she insisted it was improving. Your dad didn’t speak a word of Polish, so Joanna had to switch to English entirely after you left.

“All good, Mum. Lots and lots and lots of studying,” you said, your voice so unamused you barely lifted your eyes from the book, though your gaze was unseeing. You had been staring at the same equation for about half an hour now.

“Have you been practising your affirmations?” Of course, you hadn’t. Silly idea.

“Yes, every day and every time someone pisses me off. How’s Dad?” You decided to deflect as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

“Dad went to Calais for a retreat, and I’m left alone for the entire week. He’s not allowed a mobile, you see,” Your mum rambled on a little longer, and you let her. You were happy to hear your parents were moving on after losing their only daughter. Even though Joanna insisted she could feel your presence in the house, in the clothes and trinkets you’d left behind, and could sense your moods through an invisible mother-daughter bond you shared. What a load of nonsense.

“Mamusia, I love you, but I have to go. I’m studying with Sue, and we’ve got a test in thirty minutes,” you added a round of loud pecks so she could hear the kisses through the phone speaker. She told you to wear red underwear and get Sue to kick you for good luck.

“Your mum sounds awesome,” Sue laughed under her breath. She tried to study but ended up listening to the entire conversation.

“Eh, she’s something. She’s pretty cool when she’s not suffocating you with love, you know?” You gave Sue a knowing smile, and she understood immediately. “Have you managed to learn anything? My brain is literally fuming.”

Sue groaned as she started packing up her notebooks to head toward the lab class. “Honestly, I don’t know. I think I’ll use my last resort—can I borrow some red knickers?” You snickered as Sue shot you a huge mocking grin.

“No, but I can kick you alright, sweet Sue,” you couldn’t help but laugh. You gathered all the papers scattered around you with both hands and shoved them into your bag. You glanced at yourself in the mirror before leaving your dorm room, and Jesus Christ, your youth had already fled. Dark circles under your eyes, a gaunt face, lips chapped—all of it painfully underlined by an ink stain on your t-shirt. Whatever, there was no time to do anything about it.

It was Viktor’s class again. You had slowly grown to dislike them, ever since he and Jayce began to switch every second day, after Jayce got a new girlfriend—beautiful Mel Medarda, a third-year theatre student whom Hale once called a close second contender to rule the planet one day. Second after you, of course.

All of Viktor’s initial friendly sass had dissolved into the mean kind, which he executed each time Heimerdinger’s students were supposed to already know something they didn’t—including you. Thankfully, most of the time, you knew. The times you didn’t, he relished it and squeezed the situation to the maximum, like a sad lemon.

“Alright, take a test from the tray on the teacher’s desk and take your usual seat. And as usual, you can have a calculator and periodic table on your workbench,” Viktor’s instructions boomed through the lab classroom as one by one, students dragged themselves through the door, each one looking more exhausted than the other. “Looking ravishing today, Y/N,” he sent a smirk your way as you passed by him without sparing him so much as a glance and a quiet ‘hi.’

“Bite me, Viktor,” you barked back at him. What the hell was he thinking?

“Gladly, but maybe after class.” Usually, the smug look on his face would get you to scoff; this time, you granted him a faint eye roll as you dragged your feet toward the workbench you shared with Sue. As Viktor strolled through the room, making sure no one had anything illegal on their tables, he snatched your phone from your desk just as you were putting it into your bag.

“No phones,” he slid it into his lab coat pocket with a wink. You whined, about to say something you’d regret, but were immediately cut off by “I said, after class,” coming from behind you as you watched his back, your eyes burning a hole in it.

You solved the test first; you were so angry. As soon as you put it back in the tray, a realisation washed over you, and what you realised was the mistake you’d made in one of the exercises. You wanted to retrieve it and fix it, but Viktor’s hand shooshed you away.

“Come on, Viktor, it was there for less than a second!”

“You put it away, it’s gone for grading. That’s the rule. Also—it’s a learning curve,” he smiled at you sweetly, and you wanted to choke him out.

“Learning curve of what? That you are being a dick?” The last part was barely a whisper, nevertheless, a whisper that was fuming with rage and could cut through steel.

“Patience. And decision-making, which is a process that you clearly haven’t mastered yet,” he said coldly, not even looking you in the eye. This time, you did scoff, and angry steps carried you back to your seat.

The class settled into a more familiar rhythm after the test, the shuffle of papers and the steady hum of Bunsen burners filling the air. Viktor moved around the room, overseeing his students’ chemistry lab exercises with the same detached air he always wore. You tried to focus, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the test—and Viktor's smug little smile as he watched your frustration unfold.

The task at hand was simple enough: a titration experiment to determine the concentration of an unknown solution. Viktor had given you all the instructions, but as you watched the beaker of sodium hydroxide mix with the diluted acid, you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. Something about the instructions didn’t sit right with you.

You glanced over at Sue, who was carefully measuring out the chemicals. You leaned in, whispering so Viktor wouldn’t overhear.

“Sue, I think he messed up the ratios in the instructions. If we follow this, it’s gonna screw everything up. We’ll end up with a totally different result.”

Sue frowned, taking a closer look at the setup. “You sure?”

“I’m certain. The way he wrote it—if we add that much of the sodium hydroxide, the pH is going to overshoot too quickly. It'll neutralise the acid too fast, and we won’t get an accurate reading. If we’re supposed to get a neutralisation point, that change will mess with the whole titration curve.”

Sue was sceptical, but you were adamant. You felt it in your gut. "It’ll be off. Trust me."

Sue nodded reluctantly. "So, what do we do?"

You hesitated for a moment, your fingers tapping the edge of the desk as you thought. You pulled up a few formulas on Sue’s phone, glancing back at Viktor to make sure he wasn’t looking in your direction.

“If we use less sodium hydroxide, the neutralisation will occur more slowly, and we’ll get a more accurate pH reading. We’re supposed to use a much more diluted solution.”

Sue nodded, though she looked uneasy. “What the hell, let’s try it.”

You adjusted the solution as you suggested, making the necessary changes to the procedure. You proceeded with the experiment, and despite her hesitation, Sue followed your lead. The two of you worked in tandem, the smooth, natural chemistry of your lab partnership taking over. As you neared the end of the titration, it was clear you had achieved the neutralisation point correctly—without overshooting or leaving any room for error.

Meanwhile, the rest of the class was still fumbling through their measurements, the air thick with the sounds of Viktor’s quiet reprimands. You couldn’t help but glance at him every now and then, noting the small, almost imperceptible frown on his face as he inspected his students’ work.

When the clock pointed to fifteen minutes away from the class ending, Heimerdinger stepped into the lab, his eyes scanning the results with interest. He walked toward your workbench, eyes lighting up as he reviewed your calculations.

“Well, it seems we have at least one pair who didn’t follow the instructions blindly,” Heimerdinger said, his voice rich with approval. “Good work, you two. You’ve done the experiment correctly. Trusting your instincts—making adjustments based on the data rather than simply following authority—is key in science. After all, we’re here to discover, not just to repeat what’s been done.”

You allowed yourself a smile of satisfaction, while Sue breathed a little easier, glancing at you in admiration.

Viktor’s face, however, was unreadable. He stood at the back of the room, arms folded tightly across his chest, watching the interaction with narrowed eyes.

Heimerdinger didn’t seem to mind. “It’s a learning curve for all of us, even your teacher. Mistakes are inevitable. But sometimes when we challenge authority—question the procedures—that’s when we learn and grow. Science is born from curiosity and defiance. Respect is important, of course, but don’t be afraid to challenge when you feel something isn’t right.”

You raised an eyebrow at Viktor, who hadn’t said a word. His lips were pressed into a thin line, but his eyes were hard as steel. He wasn’t pleased by Heimerdinger’s praise of your independent thinking.

“That’s how science is made,” Heimerdinger continued, completely oblivious to the tension between his students and the teacher. “By asking ‘what if?’ and exploring the unknown.”

Viktor finally spoke, his voice cool and controlled. “That’s true,” he said, glancing at you. “But there's a fine line between innovation and recklessness. Don’t mistake one for the other.”

You met his gaze, your jaw tight. “I don’t think we did.”

Viktor’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, but he didn’t respond, turning on his heel and walking toward the front of the room. Sue nudged you gently, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Well, at least we didn’t screw up,” she whispered.

You smiled back, but your mind was still racing. You had challenged Viktor’s authority—hadn’t followed his instructions—and it had got you praise from the professor. This couldn’t be good. “Sue, I don’t think I’m getting my phone back,” you whined into your friend's shoulder, who giggled uncontrollably.

You waited for your group to disperse into the library or the cantina before the start of the next lecture, making sure Viktor wouldn’t be able to humiliate you in front of anyone. You took a deep breath and knocked weakly on the door of the assistant’s back office.

“Come in,” Viktor’s voice was as flat and unwelcoming as ever. You braced yourself as you turned the doorknob and stepped inside quietly. Viktor was sitting at one of the tiny desks you were cramped at with Jayce and didn’t even look up. You cleared your throat.

“Yes?” This time, he looked up. God, he looked angry. When he finally raised his eyes to meet yours, he only sighed. “I doubt I can do much for you, Y/N. Given that you know everything already.”

“That’s rich coming from a guy who broke into the lab to prove his point once. Yes, Jayce told me,” you smiled at him sweetly, referring to his second-year incident when he and Jayce breached the lab security at night and conducted an experiment they were forbidden to do by Heimerdinger himself. This got them secure spots for PhD and TA positions.

Seeing that there was absolutely nothing coming from his direction but a blank stare, you asked carefully, “Well… why did you fuck up?”

Viktor sighed again, stood up slowly, and walked toward you. “Some theatre girls got us drunk last night—Mel’s friends. And I messed up the notes. Chemistry is not my major, as you know.” A smirk started to paint his face as he observed your reaction to the mention of drinking with some girls.

Viktor decided to push you further, his smirk widening as he leaned against the desk. “It’s hard to focus when you’re surrounded by Mel’s friends, you know. A lot of distractions. I haven't quite shaken last night off me yet,” he teased, his eyes glinting with amusement.

Your heart dropped at his words. You forced yourself to keep your expression neutral, but something inside you shifted—you didn’t want to admit it, but it hurt. Viktor was deliberately drawing attention to some girls, and it stung more than you cared to acknowledge.

You scolded yourself internally. Stop it. Don’t let him get to you. But it was already too late. You could feel a pang of something—jealousy, maybe, or insecurity—but you refused to let it show.

Viktor, sensing your discomfort, didn’t let up. “By the way,” he said, his tone casual, “I took a closer look at your test. You know, given your answers, I understand how you worked out the correct proportions for the exercise. Same mistake you made on the test itself, right?”

Your stomach twisted, and your chest tightened. “So now you’re just going to relish in my defeat, aren’t you?” you shot back, your voice strained.

Viktor raised an eyebrow. “I’ve got far better things to relish in. Just making observations.”

You exhaled sharply, your anger bubbling over. “You know, because you were being such a dick, the thing I actually knew will probably lower my final grade now. Congratulations.”

Viktor’s smirk never faltered. “I wasn’t being a dick,” he said, voice smooth. “I was merely being a meticulous stiff bastard.” He leaned back, his tone laced with sarcasm. “You were quite vocal about that, if I recall. Something about me being a ‘pedantic pain in the ass’ when you were drunk.”

Your face flushed, your hand tightening into a fist at your side. That comment struck a nerve you hadn’t even realised was there. Your heart pounded. “Are you seriously so petty, Viktor, that you’re going to take revenge for some drunken slur by messing with my grade?” you snapped, your voice rising. You turned to leave, the weight of your frustration heavy on your chest.

But Viktor’s voice stopped you cold. “Wait,” he said, and for a moment, you thought he was going to apologise. Maybe even admit he’d gone too far.

You glanced over your shoulder, ready to hear some kind of redemption. But then Viktor’s tone shifted again. “You didn’t forget something, did you?”

You froze as he pulled your phone from his pocket and held it out to you, a mischievous gleam in his eye. The sight of your phone in his hand made your heart sink. You really are a bastard, you thought.

With strained composure, you took the phone from him. Your fingers brushed his, sending an unexpected jolt through you. Viktor’s gaze lingered on you a moment longer than necessary, and for the briefest second, you saw something flicker behind his usual cool façade. Something almost… uncertain.

Your stomach fluttered—No. Not now. Don’t let him do this to you.

You forced a tight smile, returning his gaze. “I can play this game too, Viktor,” you said, your voice low and controlled.

Viktor’s smirk faltered for a brief moment, and he leaned back against the desk, watching you with a hint of something deeper in his expression. His eyes softened, but he quickly masked it with another calculated look.

You turned to leave, your mind racing with frustration and another weird emotion you didn’t have the name for. Just before you reached the door, you felt a shift in the air. Viktor’s teasing had crossed a line, and somehow, the distance between you felt less like a joke and more like something real. Why does this matter so much to me?

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest. Viktor hadn’t just teased you. He’d affected you, and you hated that. As you stepped out of the office, you could feel his gaze on your back, following you, studying your body. You scolded yourself internally for looking like a wreck and made your way to join Sue in the library.

Your friend regarded you with concern as you slid into the chair at the table, books already splayed out in front of her. “Did you get your phone back?”

“Yeah, it was a fight to the death,” you mumbled, sighing heavily as you opened a massive tome of genetics for the next lecture.

“And who died?” Sue asked, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Oh, definitely me this time.” You whined and dropped your head face-flat onto the table. “I don’t understand when this happened. Can you direct me to a point in time when Viktor woke up and chose violence?” you chuckled despite yourself.

“Um… I think it was some time after the party where that cute curly-haired guy with a poetic name clung to you the entire evening. Or—” she smirked—“you calling Viktor a meticulous stiff bastard.”

“Ambrose? I completely forgot about him,” you mused for a second. There had been an Ambrose sometime during your first weeks. He was from the theatre department too, full of big words, slightly obsessive, but overall nice. You never gave him your number, though, deciding it wasn’t meant to be.

“So you think Viktor loves me so much, jealousy rotted his guts?” you laughed a little too loudly, drawing a few irritated ‘shh!’ sounds from nearby students.

“Let’s say it’s my instinct,” Sue replied with a mischievous smile. “And remember, Y/N—trusting your instincts is key in science,” she added in a hushed, exaggerated Heimerdinger impression, causing you to suppress your laugh even further.

***

Viktor stretched in his chair. The last paper to check stared him in the eye, glaring at him almost as intensely as you had that morning. He groaned slightly at the pain in his leg as the door creaked open.

“Hi, partner,” Jayce greeted, shooting him a smile that was a mix of guilt and a plea for forgiveness. He’d left Viktor for an entire day to gallivant around campus with Mel. She had apparently needed strong arms to carry boxes of flyers advertising their winter show.

“Don’t ‘hi, partner’ me, Jayce,” Viktor huffed but smiled faintly under his nose. “How was it?”

“She’s really something, Vik. I can tell you over a beer?” Jayce offered, clearly still buzzing from his all-day hangout with his beautiful, smart, interesting, unique, elegant, new girlfriend.

“I think I’m going to call it a night. One last paper to check.” Viktor groaned slightly as he flipped your paper in front of his friend’s face. Jayce snatched it mid-air and studied it carefully for a minute.

“How come? I thought she was the only one to work around your… notes mishap?” Jayce tread carefully, noticing the frown forming on Viktor’s forehead. He knew exactly how Viktor had messed up the notes—sadly, it was partially his fault as well.

Viktor leaned back in his chair, still staring at the paper. “Yes, indeed, she was. She even tried to fix her answer when she put the test into the box,” he muttered quietly under his breath.

Jayce raised an eyebrow. “So why didn’t she?”

Viktor rolled his eyes, the motion quick and dismissive. “Because, Jayce, I don’t make exceptions for students who can't follow the rules.”

“Oh, Viktor,” Jayce sighed, shaking his head. “What did she do to get so deeply under your skin? Seriously, you're not usually like this.” Viktor was only mean and vigilant when he cared—or when he was hurt. That, Jayce knew. He just didn’t know which one it was.

Viktor shrugged nonchalantly, but there was an edge to his voice. “She’s just full of herself. Thinks she can do whatever she wants because she’s got it all figured out.”

Jayce’s lips twitched into a knowing smile. “Oh, I see. Well, if someone’s getting on your nerves that much, it usually means they’re reflecting something about you that you don’t want to see.”

Viktor stared at him blankly, the words almost not registering. Then, he let out a short, mocking laugh. “When did you start spreading the wisdom of your people around the world, Jayce?”

Jayce leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms casually. “Mel teaches me how to talk to difficult people now. You know, learning to understand them and not just shut them down immediately.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow, his tone sceptical. “Am I the difficult one here?”

Jayce’s grin widened. “Clearly. I mean, you’re willing to fuck up Y/N’s final grade over a sentiment. That’s not exactly… rational behaviour, is it?” He leaned into the desk, hoping for a moment of self-reflection from his friend.

Viktor was silent for a moment, then scoffed, trying to brush off the conversation. “It’s not like that. I’m not just doing it to be petty.”

Jayce leaned in slightly. “So, what did you tell Heimerdinger about the mishap?”

Viktor leaned forward as well, his voice dropping into a more serious tone. “I told him the truth—both of us fell asleep in the lab, working on our side project. I had to rush to class that morning. No big deal.”

Jayce nodded, processing this. “I’m sure Heimerdinger won’t bat an eyelid if you step up for Y/N, especially since she did well in class. If anything, she deserves some leniency.”

Viktor paused, looking at his friend thoughtfully. “I guess I could do that. Just… don’t think this is something I do for everyone,” he exhaled, rubbing his temple. “But I’ll talk to Heimerdinger.”

Jayce smirked, leaning back in his chair again. “There you go. Maybe Mel’s influence is working on you after all.”

Viktor shot him a look, clearly not amused. But deep down, he couldn't deny there was something about you that unsettled him—and, for some reason, it had started to bother him more than he cared to admit.

“Just keep your wisdom to yourself,” Viktor muttered. “And get out of my office. I still have work to do.”

Jayce chuckled but stood up, winking. “Hey, it’s my office as well! But yeah, I get the point.” As Jayce exited, Viktor stared at the paper before him, his mind occupied by frustration. A meticulous stiff bastard he was indeed.

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #viktor fanfic #viktor x reader smut #viktor x f!reader #arcane #viktor smut #arcane fanfic #my writing #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #viktor x oc #viktor nation #the game of teaching body

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h33slvr · 12 days ago

Text

FEED PROTOCOL: INITIATE

. . . . . ۶ৎ╰──A H33SLVR ORIGINAL──╯۶ৎ. . . . .

℘ ────────── ℘ ─────────── ℘

—ᝰ.ᐟ𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐. OT7!enhypen x reader

『Ｓｙｎｏｐｓｉｓ』 They were made to be monsters. Now they have to survive the game. Seven experimental vampire subjects, Forced into a high-stakes psychological game designed by the very doctors who made them, they must rely on their fractured abilities—and each other—to survive.

—ᝰ.ᐟաɑɾղíղցՏ: Blood, Gore, Violence, Psychological Horror, Death, Injury, Medical Experiments, Body Horror, Vampire!enhypen, Captivity/Imprisonment, Trauma, PTSD, Mature Language, Cannibalistic Undertones, Implied Abuse/Torture, Power Imbalance, Moral Betrayal, Romantic/Physical Tension.

—ᝰ.»ĂÚŤĤŐŔ ŃŐŤĔ: This story will be posted on wattpad, just because it's easier for me to use that. I dont use a computer for tumblr so it would take me longer to do chapters and all that on here so im sticking to wattpad for any series I do but im gonna post about them on here and include the link to the story :)

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`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 1 ~ THE CULL

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 2 ~ THE CULL PT2

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 3 ~ BLOODLOCK

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 4 ~ FRACTURE

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 5 ~ MEMORY VAULT

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 6 ~ ECHO CHAMBER

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 7 ~ THE HUNT

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 8 ~ FEED TRAIL

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 9 ~ FEED TRAIL PT2

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 10 ~ THE RED VEIL

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 11 ~ ASCENSION

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 12 ~ BLACKOUT ORDER

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 13 ~ RECONDITIONING LOOP

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 14 ~ M.E.D.U.S.A

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 15 ~ COVENANT BREACH

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 16 ~ PULSE TRAIL

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 17 ~ THE OFFERING

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 18 ~ GENESIS CORE

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 19 ~ CODE MAPPING

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 20 ~ LAB FILE RECOVERY

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 21 ~ TRUST TESTS

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 22 ~ TRAITOR SURVEILLANCE

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹𝙀𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 23 ~ BLOOD ETHICS METER

『ƈᴬŜŤ』

[𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃] — 이희승 — Lee Heeseung — EX-001R

[𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃] — 박종성 — Park Jongseong — EX-099R

[𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃] — 심재윤 — Sim Jaeyun — EX-005R

[𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃] — 박성훈 — Park Sunghoon — EX-023R

[𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃] — 김선우 — Kim Seonwoo — EX-007R

[𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃] — 양정원 — Yang Jungwon — EX-004R

[𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃] — 西村力 — Nishimura Riki — EX-010R

[𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃] — 윤인 — Yoon Y/N — EX-008R

[FILE MISSING]

#enhypen fic #kpop idols #wattpad #enhypen jake #enha x reader #ni ki enhypen #enhypen x reader #heeseung #jungwon enhypen #riki nishimura x reader #scifi #vampire #jake sim #sunghoon enhypen #sunoo enhypen #jay park enhypen

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oddinary4bts · 22 days ago

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Be With You | ch 11

☆summary: who knew that the hot guy you've been paired with for a class project is also a kind soul? Certainly not you, and you feel yourself falling even though you know you shouldn't. Will it be your demise, or will it all work out in the end?

☆pairing: Choi San x female!reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters contain mature content)

☆genre: slow burn strangers to lovers, college!au, smut, angst and fluff

☆warnings: the presentation, panic attack, reader revealing what happened with jungkook (physical abuse), mentions of cheating, cursing, a frat party, Jungkook, alcohol, we learn one of the reasons why oc doesn't drink, throwing up

☆word count: 12.8k

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here

☆a/n: okay so this chapter is rough, we learn exactly what happened between reader and jungkook, and there's a lot of angst but I promise it's also the start of healing! My trip is also almost done :( and thank you to @moonleeai for your amazing work as my beta reader, I love you and am forever thankful for you <3

☆☆☆☆☆

Cold snowflakes Withered down Until you bloom As a spring flower I'll be with you

Be With You, Ateez (english translation)

☆☆☆☆☆

Friday, December 13th

The classroom is buzzing with chatter, louder than it usually is. A certain sense of stress hangs in the air, caused by the presentations that are going to take place in just a moment, and you linger at the back of the classroom, your leg bouncing up and down as you worry at your bottom lip.

You’re exhausted. Bone-dry exhausted, yet the jittery atmosphere keeps your nerves alight just enough for you to keep glancing around, like you’re a prey expecting a predator. You reckon you might be - hasn’t Choi San become a predator in your life?

He hasn’t arrived yet. Wooyoung and his partner were assigned to the afternoon group, so Wooyoung isn’t here either. You don’t know if it’s a relief - if there are less people you know watching you doing your presentation, will it be easier to go through the whole thing?

You don’t think it would be. Hell, you don’t even know why you’re being so anxious today. You’ve had countless presentations in the past much like this one, and though back in high school they were a shit show, you’ve been better at them since you started college.

But perhaps the anxiety doesn’t lie in the presentation itself, but rather in the person you’ll present with. Maybe the anxiety lies in the fact this is the last time you’ll ever hear his voice, if what he said last Sunday is true.

Your heart is numb. Your whole body has been numbed - you’ve barely talked to anyone all week. You’ve hidden in your room, studying, emerging just when you need to eat or shower. You went to your exams, came home to hide in your room again.

It’s been hell. You feel like you’ve been going through hell, but at least your first finals went well. It makes sense that they did - you’ve literally been studying for weeks already as an escape from your thoughts about Choi San.

Not everything has been a disaster. Your sleep schedule, perhaps, and the quality of the food you eat, but at least your finals aren’t going to be a catastrophe.

You blink, realizing that you’ve been staring at the first group to present. They’re plugging the taller guy’s laptop so that they can project their Powerpoint, and the other one makes a joke that has them both laugh. Your eyes trail away, stopping by the door just in time for you to see San walking in. He’s wearing a long, grey coat along with a black turtleneck, but what truly takes you by surprise is the pair of glasses sitting on his nose.

San notices you, and your heart stops beating as he walks up towards where you’re sitting, one hand clutching his backpack’s strap on his shoulder.

Your fight - if it can be called a fight - last Sunday flashes in your mind, and you immediately look away, focusing on the guys at the front again. It doesn’t stop you from hearing San dropping his bag next to you, and the creak his chair makes as he pulls it back to sit.

“Ready?” he asks, so casually you almost get whiplash.

Or maybe the whiplash is caused by the way you turn your head towards him so fast it leaves you a little dizzy.

He looks… good, with the glasses. But it doesn’t take a genius to understand why he put them on - his dark circles have grown since last Sunday, and his eyes even look bloodshot, as if he hasn’t slept a second since you last saw each other. And you would know, as you look exactly like that, too.

“Yeah,” you reply curtly, and you look away, focusing on the Powerpoint that’s projected on the white board now.

The guys are struggling to get the curtain for the projector down, and the professor walks over to them to help, delaying the start of their presentation. The start of yours, too, as you’re the fourth group to pass, right before a short break.

You feel San’s gaze on your profile and for a moment, all you can picture are the tears in his eyes right before he’d left at the library. You clench your fists, nails digging in your palms, and the physical pain is enough to keep the heartbreak at bay.

For now.

The professor manages to get the curtain down, and he goes to sit back where he was. He stops before he sits though, indicating that the presentation will begin, and then the two guys at the front start talking about aviation conspiracy theories. You don’t listen, instead trying to remember what you’ll have to say once it’s your turn to present. It’s infinitely hard with San by your side, and adrenaline starts to flood your bloodstream when the second team starts, the bouncing of your leg under the desk accelerating.

Your hands are clammy. You notice when you make to push a strand of hair behind your ear, and you immediately dry them on your thighs. San glances at you, his eyes on your profile heavy, though he remains silent, returning his attention to the presentation in front of you instead.

By the time the third group is presenting, your heart is beating so fast you reckon you might have a cardiac event before it’s your turn. You try to focus on your breathing, try to remember that you know your subject in and out, that you’ve practiced by yourself so many times you can recite your text with your eyes closed when you’re trying to fall asleep at night.

It’s what you’ve been doing after all. It helped chase San out of your thoughts to a certain extent. Needless to say, he invaded all of your dreams during the week, which might be another reason why you’ve barely been sleeping.

The third presentation passes far too quickly. Soon, you find yourself getting up, following San down the stairs and to the front of the class. Your heart beats in your ears, and you ignore San’s worried look as he glances at you after having plugged the laptop.

You breathe in, breathe out, and nod your head once when San asks if you’re ready to start. “Yeah, let’s do this.”

“Are you okay?” he asks, barely above a whisper because the class is already almost fully silent.

Your eyes dart to him, and you hate how genuine he looks. Instead, you imagine him like he was last Sunday when he told you that you were so clueless. You picture the frown on his features, the disgusted lilt to his voice. You hear it clear as day, so it’s as easy as breathing to look away and give a thumbs-up to the professor, who asks the class for silence.

You’re like a robot. Hell, you’re relieved you practiced so much, because you go into automatic mode the second you start talking, words flowing out of your mouth a lot easier than you thought they could.

But then San talks, his voice loud for everyone to hear, and he even smiles, trying to appear friendly.

He does the mistake of glancing at you while he talks, and the dimples on his cheeks are like bullets to your heart, and the pain you were keeping at bay suddenly flares in your chest, choking your lungs.

This is the last time you’re going to hear him. The last time his voice will float to your ears, the last time you will see his smile somewhere other than down memory lane. This is the last time you will stand so close to Choi San, the last time you’ll be able to catch a whiff of his cologne.

San glances at you again, and he falls silent. You just hold his gaze, just remember everything that happened between you and him. Right from the very beginning, when he’d opened the door of his apartment wearing that compression shirt, up until he walked out of the study room a few days ago. Everything flashes in front of your eyes, a sign that the relationship died after all, and tears fill your gaze.

San furrows his eyebrows, sending a pointed look at the Powerpoint that he’s been changing the slides of since you started the presentation.

It’s your slide. You know you’re supposed to talk now, but your mind is empty, a void replacing everything it’s ever held. You gaze down at the abyss of it, feel yourself falling, and you swallow around a lump as your eyes go back to San.

He mouths something, but your vision has turned blurry and you can't make sense of the words on his lips. You can’t make sense of anything - has the room been spinning this whole time? You’re not even breathing.

Why can’t you breathe?

San clears his throat, and then he’s speaking again, saving you from immensely fucking up the presentation. But you still can’t breathe, and you’re swaying on your feet.

It’s not the room spinning, it’s your head. It’s spinning, and the air burns your lungs when you manage to take a breath in. Your vision goes black on the edges, and nausea hits you head on, your stomach churning.

You might be sick. Shit. You’re going to be sick. You’re going to be sick, and the people are clapping, and San is asking you something, but you can’t hear him.

It’s the end. The final dot at the end of the final line. He’ll be gone from your life in just a few moments. There’ll be no more dimples, no more soft gazes.

Not that there has been any for the last few weeks. You ended a while ago already - maybe you should just let go.

San says your name, and the familiar syllables are like talons clutching at your heart, ripping it from your chest. You feel like you’re bleeding out - are you going to be sick still?

You need air. You need to get out, need to find a dark place to hide while the panic passes.

You’re having a panic attack.

The realization makes you move. It makes you bolt, and you’re out of the classroom before you know it, heading towards the bathroom. San calls your name behind you, but you don’t stop, can’t stop, and you walk into the girl’s bathroom, stopping at the sink.

You turn the tap on and watch the water as it dribbles and then starts flowing quicker. You splash some in your face, ignoring the way it mixes with the tears that are running on your cheeks now.

You need to breathe.

You can’t breathe.

“Y/n!” San says behind you.

He walked into the girl’s bathroom. What is he doing here?

“Y/n, what is wrong with you?” he asks, the concern in his eyes way too much for you.

You break. Always and forever, you break, and San catches you before you can fall on the ground, before you can disappear through it. But he doesn’t pull you closer, doesn’t wrap you in his embrace. He just holds you from a distance, a distance that feels like the largest crevice, and you take his hands off you.

They just fall at his sides aimlessly, and San just keeps looking at you.

“What the fuck,” you let out, and then you chuckle.

You’re fucking going crazy.

“What’s wrong?” San asks again.

“Panic attack.” You lean back against the sink, taking a deep breath.

A breath that burns and stings and breaks, because you know why the panic attack stopped. You know it was his hands holding you up that stopped it, and it’s so, so fucking unfair.

“We did great,” San softly says. “Why are you panicking?”

“Why?” you repeat, and then you softly laugh, drying a tear on your cheek. “Why do you think?”

He whispers your name.

“I haven’t slept since last Sunday,” you say. “I don’t think I’ve slept before that either.” You shut your eyes, swallowing once. “What did I do wrong?”

He knows just as well as you that you aren’t talking about the presentation.

He says your name again, like it’s a plea this time. But you’re tired, too tired to let it go again.

“Please,” you beg. “I just want to know what happened.” You take a shaky breath in. “You said you were falling in love, and then you disappeared.”

“You know what happened.” His voice is infinitely sad.

You want to punch him. You do - your eyes open, and you punch him against the chest with the side of your fist. “I don’t fucking know, San. I. Don’t. Know.”

He grabs your hand, stopping you from punching him more. You both turn your head to the side as a girl walks in the bathroom. She takes sight of the two of you, glances at the stalls, and then turns back around, leaving you alone with San who’s still holding your closed fist.

“You cheated on your ex.”

His words are like claps of thunder, and you stand in the silence that follows them, holding his gaze. “That’s why you ghosted me?”

“Not exactly,” he says, and he closes his eyes tightly, letting go of your hand. “You lied to me.”

You did. You said you didn’t have an ex, so you were right: it is your fault that you lost Choi San after all.

You’re crying again. “He talked to you at the party, didn’t he?”

San nods, but doesn’t open his eyes. “We talked after that, too.”

You feel like you’re going to be sick again. You’d take a step back to put distance between you and San, but you’re still leaning against the sink. You turn around, turning the water off, and you look at yourself in the mirror.

You look so fucking pathetic.

“What did he say?”

“That the relationship was toxic,” San replies simply. “That you cheated on him with your brother’s friend, and that he ended things then.”

“That’s all he said?” you ask, and you look at yourself in the mirror, surprised that the tears have stopped. Indeed, your mind fills with a strange clarity, and the heartbreak fades away.

You’re just numb, much like you were in the last few days.

“Pretty much,” San replies.

“Did he tell you what happened when I told him about Mingi?”

It’s strange, to feel so calm all of sudden. To be able to speak without your voice quivering, and to be able to think about everything without feeling like you’ll be swallowed by a wave of panic again.

“He just said you broke up.”

You chuckle bitterly. “He pushed me”

You say the words softly, and San opens his eyes, meeting your gaze in the mirror.

“What?”

“He pushed me,” you repeat. “Pushed me so hard that I... I fell and broke a lamp.” You pull your shirt up, revealing the faint scar on your arm. “I cut myself on the lamp.”

San says your name with such horror you almost feel bad to be telling him your story.

But it’s time for him to know.

“Yunho ran in, and he beat the shit out of Jungkook. Kicked him out of the house. Wasn’t too hard though, Jungkook was panicking and apologizing, so he didn’t really try to do anything.”

San just remains silent this time around, and you take a deep breath before you continue talking.

“I never reported it. Yunho, Syd, my parents… they all wanted me to report it, but I just couldn’t. I never saw him again after that day. Jimin gave me back my stuff and grabbed Jungkook’s.”

“That… That’s why Jimin told me to not listen to Jungkook…” San whispers. His eyes have fallen on a spot on your back, but they climb back to your face in the mirror before he speaks again. “Jimin alluded that I shouldn’t listen to Jungkook.”

“You talk to Jimin, too?”

San nods. “He and Wooyoung kind of have a thing going on, so I saw him twice. And Jungkook was there, too.”

You gulp. “Oh.”

“I…” San trails off. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug your shoulders. “I did cheat on him. You would have known the rest back then if you’d talked to me instead of ghosting.” Your tone is accusatory, the pain and anger from him ghosting you resurfacing.

“It’s just…” San shuts his eyes again, rubbing his face. “With my dad…”

“I know,” you say when he falls silent again. “You fucking hate cheaters, right?”

You’re quoting what he told you that Wednesday night when he told you about his dad, and you remember how you’d hurt when he’d said those words.

How afraid you’d been. Rightfully so in the end.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“No.” You gulp. “No, you’re not. If anyone’s sorry here, it’s me. I lied to you about having an ex, after all.”

“You could have…” He takes a deep breath. “You could have told me.”

You know he’s not trying to be insensitive. You know he probably hasn’t computed the gravity of what you’ve told him yet - most people don’t truly understand what you went through anyway.

“It’s something I prefer pretending it never happened,” you say. “I did my therapy, healed from it, and I don’t want people to treat me differently, so I don’t talk about it.”

San’s crying. You realize it when you see the tears rolling down his face. You stare at them blankly, wait for them to hurt you, but your heart remains fully numb.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes again. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You shrug your shoulders. “What’s done is done. You reminded me why I don’t do relationships so, thanks for that, I guess.”

“Don’t say that.”

You chuckle bitterly. “Don’t tell me what to do.” You wet your lips, and you breathe in deeply. “But you know what? You were right last Sunday. We shouldn’t talk about it.”

You don’t know how you do it. How you manage to walk away, leaving San to cry in the bathroom alone. You just focus on making it back to the classroom, where the break is thankfully under way, and you walk over to where the professor is sitting. Like a robot, you apologize for your panic attack. He shrugs his shoulders, saying that he too struggles with them and that it won’t affect your grade. You thank him, and then you walk to where your stuff is, grabbing your backpack and shoving your laptop and water bottle in it. You put your coat on, walk back down the stairs and then out of the class.

And just like that, you walk out of Choi San’s life, too.

Friday, December 20th

Sydney can be quite convincing when she wants to be. It’s the only explanation you have as to why you’re currently doing your makeup, getting ready to go to a party hosted by some fraternity. Originally, you were both supposed to spend the night in, but Yunho claimed that party was going to be fun, somehow managed to convince Sydney to go, and Sydney said she’d murder you if you didn’t go with her, so here you are.

Applying a sharp line of black eyeliner to your top eyelid, mouth opened comically as you try not to blink. Especially not considering you spent a good while creating the perfect smokey eyeshadow look before, and you really don’t want to mess that up.

Sydney is already ready - she favors a simple line of eyeliner and nothing else - and she’s sitting on your bed, back against the wall, scrolling through her phone as she waits for you to be ready.

You haven’t told her that you’ve told San. You barely can believe it yourself, especially considering the radio silence on his part since the presentation. He’s made it definitely clear that, despite you telling him, he has no interest in talking to you, and so you’ve decided that you’re going to move on.

Or at least try to.

Maybe that’s why Sydney managed to convince you to go to the party. Your broken heart needs it, needs the liveliness of a crowded dancefloor, the thumping of the beat, and most importantly, you need to get out of your room.

Getting locked up in here won’t fix your broken heart after all. It didn’t when you and Jungkook broke up - a drunk evening during Frosh week where you kissed seven different guys did it instead - so you figure that going to that party tonight might help.

Not that you think you will drink tonight. You’ve stopped drinking after that Frosh week party, ashamed of what you’d done and not wanting to repeat that or the hangover that followed.

Still, you reckon going out tonight might help, and you’re clinging to that hope. Especially considering that Yunho confirmed San wouldn’t be there according to Hongjoong, so you don’t have to worry about running into him.

Even though you want to move on, you don’t think you’re ready to see him again. Hell, you don’t think you’ll be ready at the beginning of the next semester either, but at least you’ll have the holidays to try and get better.

Starting tonight.

“Are you guys almost ready?” Yunho asks, startling you as he appears in the doorway to your room.

Luckily enough, you manage not to mess up your eyeliner, and you turn to look at him. “Give me like fifteen minutes.”

He nods, his eyes trailing to Sydney. “Do you want something to drink?”

“I’ll have whatever you have,” she tells him, looking up from her phone. Her cheeks redden as her gaze meets your brother’s, and you roll your eyes at the sight before focusing on doing your makeup again.

You end up finishing your makeup while Sydney and Yunho chat next to you, their chatter happy now that the semester is over.

You can barely believe it’s over. You feel like you still have finals to study for, but you finished your last one yesterday, while Sydney and Yunho finished today. You’re luckier than Hongjoong. Indeed, Yunho mentioned that Hongjoong has a final next Monday, and you really don’t envy him.

Next Monday, you’ll be heading back home with Yunho and Sydney for the holidays, and you’re already looking forward to your mother’s comforting food and to Christmas Eve along with your family, Sydney’s and Mingi's. Though you don't think Mingi himself will be there.

“I’m done,” you say after you’ve sprayed your setting spray on your face.

You take a look at yourself in the mirror, making sure that your makeup look is perfect, and then you turn towards your brother and Sydney.

They’re both looking at you, and Sydney smiles widely as she takes in the sight of your makeup. “You look amazing.”

“It took you an hour to do this?” Yunho complains, earning an elbow in the ribs from your best friend.

That shuts him up, and you kick them out of your room so that you can change into the outfit you chose for the party - a pair of black jeans along with a sage green corset - and then you meet them in the hall, where they’ve chugged the rest of their drinks while waiting for you.

It doesn’t take you long before you’ve all put your boots and coats on, and then you head out into the lazy snowfall, waiting on the sidewalk for the Uber that Yunho called.

“I heard there will be a snowstorm during the night,” Sydney says pensively as she looks up at the sky, taking in the slowly-falling snowflakes.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Yunho replies. “Hopefully it stays like this until we’re back home. Don’t want to come back in a snowstorm.”

“We can just check to see what it looks like once in a while and leave if it looks like it’s getting bad,” you suggest.

Sydney and Yunho glance at you, nodding their heads at the same time. It looks funny, and you snort, which earns you a cocked eyebrow from Yunho and a chuckle from Sydney. Before you all can say anything else, the Uber arrives, and Yunho sits in the front while you and Sydney get the backseat.

The ride is uneventful, silent as the driver doesn’t even put music on. You’re all too shy to ask him to turn the radio on, so it’s just awkward silence until he drops you in front of the frat house, and you get out of the car, thanking him for driving you. He wishes you all a good evening, and then he’s driving off, and you turn to face the house.

“Ready?” Sydney asks as she hooks her arm with yours.

“If you don’t abandon me for this loser,” you say pointing towards your brother, “yes, I’m ready.”

She snorts while he makes an offended sound. “As if I would.”

You all walk towards the house, the loud music muffled until a guy opens the door and runs outside, laughing. He waves at you all, and you just look at him while he jogs away, your brow creasing in confusion. Though you don’t think about it for too long - the second you walk into the crowded house, you forget all about that guy, the warmth enveloping you in a tight embrace.

“Holy shit, it’s hot in here,” Sydney complains.

“It is,” you agree. “Let’s go take off our coats.”

You all do so, dropping them off at a coat check managed by two guys looking drunk out of their mind and a visibly sober one that keeps cursing the others. It’s better than leaving your coat in a room like you usually do, but you do have to pay two dollars for it, which the guy explains is to finance the first party of the next semester.

“Y’all should come,” he says. “We’ll even hire a DJ.”

Hence the money, you assume.

“We’ll be there,” Yunho answers for all of you, and then you walk away, letting the two girls behind you drop their coats off too.

“Drinks?” Sydney asks.

“If I can mix myself something virgin then, yes,” you reply.

It doesn’t take more than that for the three of you to head to the drinks table, and you end up mixing orange juice, grenadine and sprite for yourself while Sydney and Yunho make rum-and-cokes for themselves. Drinks in hand, you then walk over to the three beer pong tables in a corner, where you find Seonghwa and Hongjoong playing against two girls you don’t know.

You spend the next hour playing beer pong - you team up with Seonghwa when Yunho insists in playing with his girlfriend, and you’re eventually joined by Yeosang, Jongho and Lyla, who all greet you like there’s no awkwardness between you.

You appreciate it. Even though they’re San’s friends first and foremost, you do enjoy their company. You end up playing with Sydney against Jongho and Lyla, and you’re getting crushed when Wooyoung’s unmistakable loud yapping gets to your ears.

You turn your head in the direction of the sound, your heartbeat increasing as you think you might see San, too, but it’s just Wooyoung, Yeosang and Hongjoong, with Wooyoung speaking quickly about something that seems to be hilarious to Yeosang and embarrassing to Hongjoong.

You look away, relieved that San isn’t here, though your heart twists uncomfortably in your chest at the thought of him. You push the feelings away, try not to remember the tears on his cheeks last week, and Jongho throwing the ball in the last solo cup on the table makes for a good distraction, especially as Sydney shrieks next to you.

“Redemption!” she yells.

“Good luck,” Lyla says from across the table, smiling mischievously.

“Hey, are y’all almost done?” a guy asks.

You meet his gaze, and the small smile on his lips attracts your eyes. You feel like time slows, and your cheek burns as Sydney replies, “Nah, I’m getting this shot.”

“Take your time,” the guy says. “My friends aren’t even here yet.”

You glance around, and he’s indeed currently alone, though he gives you a small polite nod when you look at him again.

Sydney shoots, and you focus on the game again as she actually makes the redemption. She yells in victory, pulling you into a hug that can only be explained by the alcohol already swimming in her bloodstream, and then you go back to playing.

The guy remains next to the table as you play, hands in his pockets as he leans against the wall, and you smile at him when your gazes connect again, before focusing on throwing.

You manage to get the ball in one of the last two glasses, and Sydney jumps excitedly.

“Oh, we’re so winning.”

You doubt it - Jongho locks in for his next throw, getting it in the glass and, to nobody’s surprise considering Lyla’s perfect aim, she also gets it in. You and Sydney would both need to score a redemption to keep going and, distracted by the guy as he says to a tall, buff man that they can play next, you miss your redemption.

“Noooo,” Sydney yells in defeat. “We were so close.”

You laugh, pulling on her arm as the guy pushes off the wall so that you can move out of the way. The laugh is refreshing - tonight, San is far from your thoughts. He lingers in a corner, never fully gone, but you think the energy of the evening has been getting to you.

You really did need to let loose to start moving on, didn’t you?

Or maybe you needed the wakeup call that last Friday was, especially as it was followed by silence on his side. Not that you expected him to text you - though you told him about what happened after you told Jungkook about the cheating, you didn’t explain how you ended up cheating.

San doesn’t know you cheated on Jungkook because he hadn’t communicated with you in any ways whatsoever for weeks, leading you to believe you were already broken up. Not that you think it matters - San’s dislike of cheaters runs far too deep for him to accept you ever did that.

Or so you’ve been telling yourself. You reckon it helps with trying to move on - does it really? - and so you’ve been clinging to that thought like it’s a life buoy in a storm.

“Why do you look so sad?” Sydney asks. “We can beat them in another game.”

You blink a few times, the party coming back into focus. “Damn, sorry, I went somewhere else.”

She chuckles. “Noticed that. Want another drink?”

You left your empty solo cup on the side of the table, and you make to reach for it, though you get confused with another drink.

“Wait,” the guy from before says. “That’s mine.”

“Shit, my bad,” you apologize, cheeks burning. “I don’t know which one is mine.”

He offers you an easy smile. “No worries. I doubt you feel like drinking only orange juice at a party anyway.”

“You’d be surprised,” you say, laughing lightly. “I don’t drink alcohol.”

“Then what’s in that cup?” he says, gazing into the solo cup you’ve grabbed which still contains a tiny bit of the drink you mixed earlier. “Looks an awful lot like alcohol,” he teases.

“It’s virgin,” you admit, shrugging your shoulders.

His gaze widens, and the easy smile returns to his lips. “A fellow non-drinker,” he says. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

“I’m Minghao,” the guy says, offering you his hand to shake.

“Y/n,” you reply as you shake hands.

His fingers linger on yours for a moment longer than necessary, and your cheeks are burning when he lets go, clearing his throat.

“I’ll let you go back to your friends,” Minghao says, flashing a last friendly smile.

You only notice then that Sydney is waiting behind you with a smiling Lyla, and your throat dries out. You swallow once, almost choking on it, wishing Minghao a good evening before you turn and head to the girls.

“What was that?” Sydney asks.

“Go get it, girl,” Lyla teases.

Sydney frowns. “Are you sure about this?”

“We were just talking,” you say, gaze dropping to the ground as if you’re guilty of a crime.

“It’s just…” she trails off, glancing at Lyla, clearly not wanting to say her next words in front of the girl. “I don’t want you to rush into something too quickly.”

Lyla’s smile fades.

“I’m not ready to be with anyone else,” you reassure Sydney. “I just think it might be time to move on, you know?”

Sydney holds your gaze for a few seconds, clearly trying to make sure that you mean what you said, and then she nods once. “Alright. Then I support you.”

Yet her reticence troubles you more than you try to let it on, thoughts of you and San swirling in your head as you watch the liquid in your cup swirl around while you’re mixing a new virgin drink. It troubles you so much you find yourself wanting some peace and quiet for a time, so you tell Sydney that you need to go to the bathroom, declining her offer to accompany you.

“Just wait here,” you tell her and Lyla. “I’ll be quick.”

The girls agree, and you head towards where you assume the bathroom is. Turns out you were wrong, as you find a dark bedroom, but two girls notice you and tell you to head down the hall. You thank them, and then you make your way to the bathroom, stopping outside behind two guys playfully pushing each other.

You lean against the wall, grabbing your phone from your back pocket, and you scroll on Instagram as you wait, though you’re soon interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Y/n?”

You raise your head, eyes a little wide, to find Jimin standing there. He cracks a smile that looks far more awkward than his usual, though it might just be because you haven’t seen him in years except at the Halloween party, and you didn’t really talk then.

“Jimin,” you reply.

It takes another second for your heart to start beating wildly in your chest, anxiety flooding you at the thought that Jungkook might very well be at this party too.

“How have you been?” Jimin asks.

You glance to your left, where one of the guys remains - the other having most likely gone into the bathroom - but you find no salvation from the conversation.

“Ah, I’ve been okay,” you say, your tone clipped. “You?”

“I’ve been great,” he replies. He looks over his shoulder, where the party is unfolding. “Listen, I just want to tell you quickly.” He pauses, and you cock an eyebrow in question, the beating of the organ in your chest now painfully quick. “I make sure he doesn’t date other people. I’ve told all the girls after you what happened with you.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat, and you escape his open gaze, looking down at your drink. “I don’t care.”

It’s a lie, and Jimin knows just as well as you.

“I just…” Jimin trails off. He takes a deep breath, and then adds, “Please never feel guilty. For everything that happened.”

Tears suddenly prick at your eyes, but you blink them away. “It’s a little late to be telling me this.”

“I know.” He sighs. “We got in a fight when he talked to the guy you were seeing. He’s still so fucking bitter about it all, even after Yoongi and I forced him to get therapy.”

Probably because Jungkook doesn’t think he needs to change. But you don’t tell that to Jimin - Jungkook is not your responsibility.

“Hope the therapy helped.”

You turn away from Jimin, but he grabs your arm gently to gain your attention again. “I don’t condone his actions,” he says. He adds your name, and then continues, “You were my friend, too. I promised myself that I wouldn’t let him do to someone else what he did to you.” He closes his eyes as his hand drops to his side. “That’s why I stayed friends with him.”

“Does he know that?”

You’re not sure it matters, yet the question hangs in the air between the two of you, and Jimin nods his head as he meets your gaze again.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve told him.” Jimin chuckles bitterly. “I think he hates me for it a little bit, but he’s never been an ass to me. Some part of him probably sees it as a good thing.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “And how’s that?”

“He won’t say it, but we all know he regrets his behaviour,” Jimin says, and he raises his hands in defense when you scoff, rolling your eyes. “It does not excuse it at all, and that’s not what I’m trying to say. But I think he’s afraid it might happen again so… making sure he doesn’t get close to dating anyone helps him, you know?”

“I don’t think he deserves any help.”

Jimin remains silent for a moment, his gaze dropping to the ground. “And that’s understandable. I just wanted you to know…” He pauses, slightly shaking his head. “I actually don’t know why I wanted you to know.”

You think you do, but you don’t want to say it. Not when you made your peace with the fact that you’re not friends with him anymore so long ago.

He’s guilty. Park Jimin is feeling guilty for what happened between you and Jeon Jungkook, and you think it’s ironic. It’s ironic, because he was there sometimes when Jungkook got angry at you and screamed in your face. He remained silent, though Jungkook told you a couple of times that Jimin gave him shit for it when they were alone next. Jungkook used to say it like a joke, but maybe…

Maybe Jimin was trying to protect you in some way. And maybe now he’s making sure no one else ever is in a position to be hurt by Jungkook like he hurt you.

“It’s okay, Jimin,” you say with a small voice. “I was bitter when you and Yoongi chose Jungkook’s side, but it’s been a long time. I’ve moved on.”

“I know…” Jimin wets his lips, glancing to the now open bathroom door as the two guys have gone and left. “He’s a dick. Jungkook is a fucking dick, but he’s been getting better. The therapy has actually helped him.”

“I don’t really want to know,” you say, your voice smaller. “I appreciate you telling me all of this but… Jungkook will always be the villain in my story. No matter what you say.”

“I respect that,” Jimin replies with a small nod.

Just don’t make me a villain too.

He doesn’t say it, but you hear the words nonetheless. They hang in the air between the two of you and realization suddenly hits you.

“Are you telling me this because of Wooyoung?” you ask.

As the blood drains from Jimin’s features, you know you’re right.

“He’s mad at me and doesn’t want to talk to me anymore,” Jimin admits, his gaze dropping to the ground.

“That’s none of my business, Jimin.” You put your phone back in your back pocket. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

This time, Jimin doesn’t try to stop you, and you shut the bathroom door behind you, leaning against it.

You don’t know what to think of the whole interaction. Hell, some part of you wants to believe Jimin was being genuine… but did he only tell you this so that you could have his back with Wooyoung?

What a fucking asshole.

You shake your head, pushing the whole conversation away from your mind. You’ll think about it later, when you’re not at a party trying to enjoy yourself with your friends for the first time ever since you and Choi San ended. You deserve an evening to yourself, deserve not to be fucking pitying yourself over what happened three years ago once again.

You’ll have plenty of time to break down tomorrow. To cry like your heart wants you to, to break like you’re on the verge of breaking.

Not tonight. You won’t allow yourself to break tonight.

You don’t know how you do it. Hell, you think you might have been possessed by some spiteful demon, giving you the strength you need to push up from the door and walk back out of the bathroom after you’ve peed and washed your hands. But you manage to do it, and Jimin is nowhere near when you walk back into the crowd, which is a relief.

You might have punched him if you saw him now.

You make your way back to where Sydney and Lyla should be waiting for you, but you bump into someone on the way, your drink spilling on their white shirt a little bit.

It’s nothing too bad, but you still quickly apologize, “Shit, sorry.”

The person turns around, and it’s none other than Minghao, who tries to look over his shoulder at the damage on his back. “Hey, Y/n. Don’t worry about that, I have a dozen white t-shirts back at home.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again.

“Nah,” he says. “It really is okay. I was leaving soon anyway.”

“Oh…” you let out, not knowing what else to say.

“Not because of you!” he quickly adds, as if he thinks you might not believe him. “I have an early flight tomorrow morning, and I don’t usually do parties like this anyway so…”

He’s nice. He’s nice, and right now, you’re feeling spiteful. So why not take advantage of it?

“Oh, where are you flying to?” you ask, stepping just a little closer.

“China,” he replies. “I’m visiting my family for the holidays.

“Oh, that sounds fun.” You take a sip of your drink, and you don’t miss the way his gaze drops to your mouth when you wet your lips. “Want some?”

“You swear there’s no alcohol in there?” he asks.

You chuckle, nodding your head. “I quit drinking three years ago, you have nothing to worry about.”

In an act of trust, Minghao grabs your cup, his fingers brushing against yours, and he takes a sip. His eyes widen in surprise as he gives you the drink back. “Not too bad,” he praises. “It actually tastes pretty good.”

“I know, right?” you say excitedly. “And no one knows I’m not drinking, so they can’t call me lame.”

He laughs. “If they think you not drinking is lame, then they’re the problem.”

You smile. “Agreed.”

Minghao nods, and then he looks around. You’re in the middle of the dancefloor, and it seems he’s noticed it too. Because he asks, “Do you want to dance?”

Your smile turns into a smirk, and you down your drink, grabbing Minghao’s hands as you take a few steps through the crowd to drop the empty cup in the trash can.

“Yes, I want to dance.”

He pulls you back towards the dance floor, and it’s not long before you’re dancing together, his body flowing with the rhythm like he’s made of liquid. Though San is an amazing dancer, Minghao moves in a way that steals your breath, and you don’t resist when he pulls you closer, nudging his knee between your legs as his forehead rests against yours.

“You know,” he lets out. “I really don’t come to parties often but…” He chuckles. “I’m really happy I came here tonight?”

“Yeah?” you whisper.

He nods, his nose brushing against yours from the motion. “Definitely.”

He pulls away, and then he spins you around, his hands finding your hips and pulling you back against him. You grind against him, follow the rhythm of the music as he keeps guiding you, and your core goes molten.

What a nice distraction indeed, you can’t help but think as Minghao pulls your hair over your shoulder, his lips ghosting on the side of your neck. Your eyes flutter shut, and you just dance and dance, enjoying the warm press of his body against yours.

“Shit,” Minghao curses. “Now, I kind of wish I wasn’t leaving for China tomorrow.”

You laugh. “You’ll come back, yeah?”

“Right before the next semester starts,” he reveals.

Perfect.

“Maybe we can hang out then?” you suggest.

You open your eyes. You’d meant to turn your head and look at him, but you freeze at the sight of the man standing in front of you, his doe eyes wide in surprise.

And then he bursts out laughing, shaking his head. “No fucking way.”

Minghao looks up from your neck, and you can feel him tense as he looks at Jungkook. “You have a boyfriend?” he asks in offense, stepping away from you.

“No,” you quickly say. “What the fuck do you want, Jungkook?”

Jungkook tilts his head to the side. “Weren’t you fucking that guy? Choi San?”

You’ll kill him. You want to fucking kill Jeon Jungkook.

Hell, you should have killed him that August night years ago.

“We don’t talk anymore,” you say, and you turn to meet Minghao’s gaze. “Please don’t listen to him.”

Minghao looks between you and Jungkook. “Listen, I don’t want to stir shit or anything. I’ll let you guys talk.”

Your heart sinks in your chest as he turns and walks away, and you make to run after him, but Jungkook’s tattooed hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you back.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Fear sinks in your entire body as he turns you around, his firm grip around your arm tight enough to hurt.

“Let me go.”

He does. He lets you go, looking down at your wrist as you rub yourself.

“My bad.”

You laugh. It’s hysterical, crazed. “Fuck off, Jungkook. Can’t you just fucking move on?”

There are tears in your eyes now, blurring your gaze so thoroughly that you can’t even recognize Jungkook anymore.

“Oh, trust me, I have.” He shakes his head. “Just didn’t think I’d run into you again. Didn’t think you could stir shit in my life again, either.”

“What the fuck do you mean?”

He clenches his jaw. “Jimin just told me to go fuck myself. I assume your little conversation with him had something to do with that?”

So Jungkook saw you talking to Jimin earlier.

You look around, hoping that someone will notice the fight, but everyone around you is too focused on dancing, and the music is loud enough to cover your words.

“Jimin’s the one that came to talk to me,” you spit in Jungkook’s face. “Maybe you’re just shit at respecting people.”

You don’t know where your courage is coming from, but you feel like you’re cresting a wave, the high unlike any you’ve felt before.

Jungkook laughs bitterly. “How cute. You really think a slut like you knows anything about keeping a relationship?” He shakes his head. “Poor San. You’re already grinding on another guy’s dick. You really are a fucking whore.”

The wave disappears from under you, swallowed back into the sea, and you crash. You crash, hitting the water so hard it might have been concrete, and your mouth hangs open, no words coming out.

“That’s what I thought,” Jungkook lets out arrogantly. “You’d think therapy would help you but nah, you’re still just a fucking slut.”

You swallow, the sea around you turning to ice, freezing everything in you. “You’re so immature you can’t even think about a better insult than that.”

You spin on your heels, walking away from Jungkook. Walking away from the hell that he is, yet the ice clings to your chest, turning your blood into little crystals that cut as they flow through your veins.

It hurts. Everything hurts, and you’re not moving on. You’re not moving on from Choi San, not tonight, not ever. Because you were thinking about him all evening. Even with Minghao, San was in your thoughts, in your soul.

Maybe Jungkook’s right in all his immaturity. Maybe you really are just a fucking slut, bound to break all your relationships with your actions.

You don’t find Sydney next to the drink tables. Lyla is gone, too, and the betrayal sinks in your chest, adding to the ice that’s already collected in your heart. But there is an almost full bottle of whiskey on the table and, surely no one would notice if you took it?

The weight is heavy in your hand as you grab the bottle, and you don’t stop to think about what you’re doing. Don’t stop as you walk away, heading towards the front door. All you can hear is what Jungkook said, his words louder than the music, and you need to get out, need to stop fucking feeling everything so much.

The world outside is frozen, though you’re unsure if it rivals the ice in your chest. And still Jungkook’s words echo in your head, over and over and over again, and all you want to do is scream.

You want to scream and rip your vocal chords to shreds. Rip your heart from your chest too, if only so that it’ll stop hurting. So that the trauma will not seek back into your bones, so that you’ll forget that after everything, he is the one that ruined whatever it was that you were building with San.

But what were you even building? A big pile of nothing. Nothing that felt like everything and left you scrambling for air, but you’re drowning.

You’ve been drowning since the soccer game. Since even before then, when you understood that San was ghosting you. It’s unfair - how bad is your karma for the past coming to steal your future from you?

The bottle really is heavy in your hand. You know it’s wrong, know you shouldn’t drink, but you don’t want to think. You want to cleanse your inside, to root out the infection that’s festering in your chest, all caused by a man that should have stayed out of your life.

You hate Jungkook. You hate him with a vengeance. Hate that he stole your heart and your confidence and your self-love and every little thing that your parents worked so hard to build when you were growing up.

He destroyed you once - why did you think he wouldn’t do it again?

It’s cold. You shiver, yet you push through, walking away from the party, clutching the bottle of hard liquor like it’s a lighthouse in a storm. The snow falls heavily, and the snowflakes melt as they touch your skin.

Maybe you’ll freeze and die. Maybe that’s what you deserve.

The first swig of alcohol you take is bitter, more bitter than the emotions in your chest. It burns as it goes down, and you close your eyes, try to ignore the way someone is screaming in your head.

You walk and walk, the cold becoming a numb feeling in the distance of your conscience, and you find a park bench. It’s half covered with snow, and you don’t even bother brushing it off before plopping down on the bench, leaning back against it.

And then you’re folding on yourself, your nails digging in your palm as you clench your fist hoping that the physical pain might take away the emotional one. You take a swig of alcohol, swallow with a wince and then you drink again.

The months flash in your mind. That first night when San baked you a cake. When you sucked his dick, and then tried to pretend that you weren’t falling for him. That every time he talked to you, your heart didn’t flutter in your chest. Up until the wine and cheese, when he looked at you with so much reverence you just said ‘fuck it’ and jumped in feet first into what you now know was just a situationship.

Who cares if he told you on that Wednesday night that he was falling for you? Who cares that you told him you were falling, too?

The pain is everlasting, now a constant in your life. You hate it, wish you could take the months back. You wish you could erase the whole of your relationship with San from your mind, and you think maybe the fifth sip of alcohol will do it.

By the tenth, your mind grows fuzzy, and you sit back on the bench, eyes closed as you take in the numb feeling growing through you.

You’re aware you should have known better. At least that’s what you tell yourself much later, when the cold keeps you in a perpetual shivering form, and the bottle is much lighter in your hand. You feel like an idiot then, and you pull your phone out of your pocket.

It’s blurry in your hand - everything has been blurry for a while now. You squint as you try to make sense of it, and your shaking finger wanders on the screen until you’re on the conversation with San.

You miss him with a vengeance. Wish the project was not done, that you’d still have one more moment with him, no matter how much it would hurt. You wish you could undo everything with Jungkook, wish you’d never talked to Mingi that night. Everything blurs in together until your thoughts don’t make any sense anymore, and you press call, putting the phone against your ear.

You just want to say goodbye. Because you didn’t say goodbye last Friday, just walked away like he never mattered.

It rings and rings. You know he won’t pick up - he’s made it clear that he doesn’t want anything to do with you, hasn’t he? Yet when his voice fills your ear, your heart strains, reaching for him like it’s been for weeks now.

But he’s nowhere near, long gone.

There’s the beep that indicates you can talk, and you open your mouth a couple of times, trying to figure out what to say, what message you should leave for him.

You settle on, “Hey, San.”

The snow falls softly around you, having slowed down for now. The cold isn’t as intense anymore, having turned into numbness that you can practically ignore. The streetlight in front of you shines bright, the snowflakes turning iridescent in the light, and you watch, transfixed by the sight.

“I…” You hiccup. “Shit, sorry. I called because…”

Your speech is slurred. You curse under your breath, shaking your head. “Damn, my bad. I… I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I miss you.” You frown momentarily. “I miss us. Hope you’re doing okay. I really miss you.”

You make no sense. You’re aware that you’re drunk and make no sense and that you should probably just disappear through the ground. But the dam has been broken, and words flood out.

“I’m sorry I did-” Another hiccup interrupts you. “I didn’t tell you before about Jungkook. I wish I had. I’m not even mad at you considering everything you told me. I just… I was really falling for you and I was so afraid to lose you.”

There are tears on your cheeks - or are those melted snowflakes?

“I still did,” you add. “I miss you. I miss your box cakes. I miss Byeol. How is she? I really hope she’s okay, she’s the best. Oh, and I hope you still sleep with Mr Snake.” You snort as you think of the plush toy. “Please hold him tight for me. And if…”

“Y/n?”

You fall silent, still staring at the light in front of you.

“Hello?”

It’s his voice. You’d recognize it in a crowded room. It just doesn’t make sense - why are you hearing his voice right now?

“Y/n, are you okay?”

“San?”

“Y/n,” he repeats, relief flooding his words. “Is everything okay?”

“How?” you ask. “I was leaving a message.”

“I know,” San says. “Where are you?”

You look around yourself as if maybe he’ll appear from behind one of the cars parked on the street. “I’m in a park,” you say. “Well, next to a park on the side of the street.”

“Have you had something to drink?”

You laugh, looking at the bottle. How long has it been empty for?

“Yeah.” You snort. “I’m sorry I didn’t drink with you. You really wanted us to have a drink together.”

“I didn’t,” San says, and something breaks in your chest. “Can you drop your location?”

“You said you wanted us to have a drink together,” you say with a small voice.

Fresh tears roll on your cheeks.

“Yes, yes I did… can you give me your location?”

“Why?”

You can almost imagine him rubbing his face on his side of the line. “You’re drunk.”

“Yeah.” You chuckle. “What about it?”

“It’s cold outside,” he points out.

“Why do you care?”

There’s a silence. You think he’s questioning himself, because you sure as hell don’t understand why he cares. Why he suddenly deemed you worthy enough of talking to you. But then you think about the tears on his cheeks when you told him about Jungkook last week, and you understand.

“I want to make sure you’re safe,” he gently says. “Please, Y/n.”

“San…” you let out, and a sob breaks your next word. You try again, “I can’t see you. It hurts so much.”

“Can your brother come pick you up?” San asks, and there’s despair in his voice.

“He’s at the party,” you answer. “He’s drunk.”

“What about Syd?”

“She’s with him.” Probably.

San curses, and you’d flinch if you weren’t so damn numb. “Please tell me exactly where you are.” He sniffles. “Shit, Y/n, please.”

You’re crying. Sobbing even, when you open your google maps and take a screenshot of your location.

“Does this help?” you ask as you send the screenshot.

“Can you share your location too?” You nod even though he can’t see it, and then proceed to do so. “Thank you.” Now, he sounds relieved. “Fuck, Y/n, I’m on my way, okay?”

“It’s cold,” you point out. “You shouldn’t come outside.”

“I don’t care.” You hear the sounds of keys on his side of the line, and then a door closing. “It’s a five minute walk.”

“I can walk,” you say, hiccuping. You get up, swaying on your feet. “Damn, I don’t like this.”

“What’s wrong?” San asks.

“I’m so drunk.”

“It’s okay, Y/n, it’s okay,” he reassures you. “I’ll be with you soon.”

You cry even more at his words, and you take a few tumbling steps in the direction of his apartment.

Because of course you’d been walking towards him earlier. It was always leading to him.

“Don’t move,” San says, having probably figured out that you’re walking too.

“I’m heading towards you,” you say. And you are. Somehow, you’re standing, and walking, and though the world is spinning around you, you have a clear goal in mind.

“Stay on the boulevard,” San tells you. “I’ll be there soon.”

You’re generally a fast walker, yet tonight your feet feel like lead, and it’s hard to take a step. But you push through, tears streaming down your face, mind buzzing with far too much alcohol, if only because there seems to be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Someone honks on the street, and you startle, letting out a small yell.

San’s worried voice immediately comes to your ear. “Are you okay?”

“I think someone honked at me,” you slur.

“I’m turning on the boulevard now.”

You stop. You stop because, sure enough, Choi San appears on the corner of the street, and his gaze immediately finds you. He’s still holding his phone to his ear but, the second you dash in his direction, he jogs towards you too.

You’re lighter than the wind now. Lighter than a single molecule of air, and you run towards San, run towards his open arms.

Everything, always, led to Choi San.

Not even Jeon Jungkook could stop that.

“Y/n,” San says, voice strained, as he nears you. He’s got tears on his cheeks, but you barely notice them as you crash into him.

He picks you up, wrapping his large arms around you in a tight embrace, and you hide your face in his neck, the warmth of his skin seeping into your cold face.

“Where’s your coat?” he asks.

You can’t reply. You’re crying, shaking, and you think you might very well be sick in the next five minutes.

“San,” you choke out in between sobs. “Oh, San.”

“Aren’t you cold?”

He puts you down, and you look up to meet his worried gaze.

“I…” Goosebumps prick your arms. “I’ve been outside for a long time.”

San lets you go, taking off his coat in one swift motion. He drapes it over you, and the warmth wraps around you, taming the most intense of your shivers.

“You’ll get sick,” he tries to scold, but his voice is lacking any bite.

“Why did you come?” you ask.

“Let’s go inside,” San replies. “Shit, Y/n, you could have died in this cold.”

You don’t really register his words, your gaze dropping down to his chest. You’re face to face with his chiseled muscles, as he’s wearing the same compression shirt he’d been wearing that first night in September.

“You’re here,” you say, and you raise a shaky hand, putting it on his chest.

His heart races under your fingers, and he covers your hand with his. “I’m here,” he whispers back.

It feels like a dream. Like maybe you died on the park bench, and this is what’s greeting you in your own personal heaven. Though you’ve never been a believer in heaven and hell, San being in front of you right now does make you believe.

He entwines his fingers with yours. “Let’s go to my place.”

You don’t move when he starts walking, tears still streaming down your face.

He whispers your name, cupping your cheek gently. And then he swipes his thumb under your eye. “Come with me, okay?”

You nod. “Okay.”

San tugs on your hand and this time, you follow him, putting one foot in front of the other despite the swaying of the world around you. The blizzard returns once you’re walking down San’s street, muffling the crunching of the snow under the soles of your shoes, and San pulls you a little bit closer.

“You must be freezing,” you let out as you shiver forcefully.

San shrugs. “It’s okay, we’re almost there.”

And he’s right. A few minutes later, he opens the door of his building for you to walk in, and you do so, still shivering wildly despite the heat surrounding you.

“Fuck, Y/n,” San curses as he notices your shivering. “You’re taking a hot shower when we get in, alright?”

His tone is gentle, kind, yet your mind zeroes in on the nausea that’s slowly raising in your stomach.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” you whisper.

It gets even worse when the elevator lurches upwards - when did you even get in the elevator? - and you shut your eyes, immediately opening them again when the spinning gets even worse.

“Just hold on a little longer,” San encourages you. “We’re almost there.”

You think there has to be a god above who intervenes because, you somehow manage to not get sick until you’re in San’s apartment, Byeol meowling in question from behind the bathroom’s closed door.

San holds your hair in a makeshift ponytail, rubbing your back as you throw up again and again. You don’t know how long it lasts - you barely remember how you even made it to the toilet at all - but soon you manage to sit back, tears rolling down your cheeks. Your throat burns, and you look at San through teary eyes.

“Water?” he asks, and he’s somehow already holding a glass of water.

You take it with trembling hands, and he doesn’t let it go, helping you to bring it to your lips. You take a tiny sip that makes your stomach lurch once more, and you push the glass away.

“I think I’ll be sick again,” you say, your voice scrappy.

“Then we can wait before making you drink water, but you have to drink some water before sleeping, okay?”

You nod. “Yes.”

San shifts, moving out of the way so that you can sit with your back against the cupboard under the sink. You lean your head against it, taking a deep breath that burns as it passes through your throat.

San gets up, and you hear him turn on the faucet for a few seconds before he sits back down in front of you. “Here,” he says, and he reaches towards your face.

You flinch, brow creasing as you try to figure out what he has in his hands. It comes into focus after two blinks, the washcloth he wet wrapped around his fingers.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“I don’t have makeup wipes, but I can try removing your makeup with this?”

You meet his gaze, and then your eyes flutter shut again. “Good luck. It’s waterproof.”

San doesn’t say anything and, a second later, you feel the cool, damp cloth as he presses it on your forehead. He rubs gently, clearly not hard enough to remove all of your makeup, but it feels soothing with the nausea that’s yet to recede, so you let him do it.

He takes his sweet time in cleaning your face. Or at least it feels like it, as you doze off, startling awake when he says your name.

“What?” you ask, your eyes shooting open.

He’s holding the glass of water, and he hands it to you. “We said you have to drink water before sleeping,” he reminds you.

You look at the clear water sloshing in the glass as he pushes it closer to you. It takes a herculean effort, but you manage to grab the glass, taking a sip from it. And then another, relieved as the initial burn goes away the more you drink.

You end up chugging the whole glass, and San gives you a proud smile before grabbing it from your hands, putting it on the counter.

“Do you want to sleep it off?” he asks.

You’re not quite sure what the ‘it’ refers to - is he talking about the heartache in your chest, or the alcohol in your blood?

Is he talking about both? Or about the way he came to you in the freezing cold, taking you home with him?

“I left my coat at the party.”

The realization comes out of nowhere, yet it has tears pricking at your eyes.

“I’ve texted your brother,” San admits. “Apparently, Syd had the ticket thingy to get it, so they grabbed it before leaving.”

The words are relieving, and you take a deep breath. “I’m going to be sick.”

Right on cue, you shiver, and you pull your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around your knees.

“You can throw up some more if you need to,” San says gently.

“No, I…” you trail off. “I’m really cold.”

“Oh.” He looks to the side, and your gaze follows. “Do you want to take a shower? That might warm you up.”

“That sounds… tiring.”

“I’ll help you,” he suggests.

You snort. “You’re trying to see me naked?”

His gaze widens, pink dusting his cheeks. “Not really. I just don’t want you to slip.”

There’s a hole in your memory then. It’s like someone unplugged the cord, and then you’re in the shower, hot water running along your body.

You look to the side, and San’s sitting on the toilet, his form blurry because of the steam and condensation that covered the glass of the shower. Your heart aches in your chest, and a tear rolls down your cheek, mingling with the water of the shower.

“San?” you let out.

He straightens, looking your way. “Yes?”

“I don’t feel good.”

A second later, you’re throwing up again, and it washes away down the drain of the shower. San pulls the glass door open slightly, and you’d be embarrassed about him seeing you in such a vulnerable position if you weren’t so damn drunk, and sad, and breaking, and broken.

San hesitates for all of a second, getting into the shower with all of his clothes on. He grabs you in his arms, pulling you in his strong embrace.

“It’s okay,” he whispers soothingly as you burst into tears. “It’s okay. I’m with you.”

“Jungkook was there,” you say as you sob against his chest. “I feel like shit.”

He remains silent, though he rubs your back as you cry, clearly not caring that his clothes are drenched from the water now.

You don’t really care either. You break in his hold, and it’s like he’s holding your pieces together - for tonight at least. And you cling to the feeling of his arms around you, drunkenly try to commit it to memory, though you doubt it works.

You won’t remember most of what happened tonight, will you?

“Do you think you need to throw up again?” San asks once your sobbing recedes, and you just rest your head on his chest, not moving.

“Think am good,” you reply.

“Let’s get you out of here, then.”

He doesn’t make to move just yet, waiting for you to agree. When you nod against him, San bends to turn the shower off, one arm still around you, and then he guides you out of the shower, wrapping you in a soft towel.

“Let me just…” he trails off, and he takes his clothes off, leaving just his boxers on as you stand there and look at him.

It doesn’t take too long, and then he’s offering you his hand to take. You look at it as if it’s foreign, your drunk mind in another episode lacking lucidity.

“Wait,” he says. “Water first.”

He refills the glass from before, helping you drink again. You take small sips, not chugging the glass this time. San puts it away when it’s still halfway full, and his eyes stop on a bottle of mouthwash next to his toothbrush.

“Do you want to rinse your mouth?” he asks.

You nod. “Please.”

He pours some mouthwash in the cap of the bottle, handing it to you like a small shot glass. “Careful not to swallow it.”

You do your best, rinsing your mouth as best as you can, the mouthwash burning slightly. You spit in the sink, and then you straighten, looking back at San as you hand him the cap.

“Good,” he says. “Let’s get you to bed, now.”

“I should go home,” you slur.

“Tomorrow,” he reassures you. “You can have my bed and I’ll get you home tomorrow, okay?”

Your eyes blur with tears again. “I shouldn’t sleep over.”

“It’s okay, I promise.” He steps closer to you, cupping your cheeks to make you look up at him. “Right now, you really need to sleep it off.” He pushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “Besides, you can’t go outside with your hair wet like that.”

You hum, not finding anything to reply as you look into his eyes, finding too much softness for your own good there.

Because right there in front of you is the San you were falling for. Not the one that ghosted you, that hated you for cheating on your ex and lying to him about it. No, this is San. Your San. The one who whispered sweet nothings in your ear while making love to you in the dead of night. The one who won a plush toy at the arcade for you because you wanted him to, the one who bought the decoration you suggested at Ikea because you begged him to.

This is your San, and you don’t want to let him go just yet. Not when you know you’ll go back to reality tomorrow, and you’ll go to bed tomorrow night having lost him again.

“Bed time?” San asks when you remain silent.

You nod your head yes, and he smiles, a dimple showing on his cheek. You feel like crying at the sight, but your eyes don’t water this time around. Only your heart strains, and you look away from him, unable to hold his gaze anymore.

San guides you to his room, where his unmade bed waits for you. He helps you dry yourself with the towel, and then gives you a t-shirt to wear while sleeping. It’s soft on your skin, and you rub the fabric between your index and thumb as San pulls the comforter off his bed enough for you to climb underneath.

You lay your head on the pillow, lying down in sheets that smell like him, that smell like home, and your gaze widens when he hands you a familiar plushie.

“Here,” he says.

You don’t hesitate, taking Mr Snake in your arms. You hug the plush toy to your chest, and San tucks you in, wrapping you in his sheets, draping the comforter over you.

“I’ll go get a bowl, some water and painkillers for you, alright?” he asks.

You’re too distracted to reply as Byeol jumps on the bed, meowing loudly, and she lies down on the pillow next to your head. You pet her mindlessly, eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion washes over you.

San coming back into the room makes you open your eyes again, and you watch through your eyelashes as he puts a large cauldron down on the floor next to you. Another blink of your eyes and he’s back with a glass of water and painkillers, which he sets on the night table next to you.

“For tomorrow morning,” he indicates. “Or during the night.” You nod. “And the bowl is for if you get sick during the night,” he adds.

Another nod of yours is all he gets in answer, and he just stands there in silence for a time, before walking around his bed to grab the other pillow.

“I’m going to go sleep on the couch, but just call for me if you need anything, alright?”

“San…” you let out when he turns away.

“Yes?” He looks at you over his shoulder, a finger on the light switch, ready to turn it off and plunge the room in darkness.

“Stay.”

He gulps. “You’re drunk. It’s better if I don’t. But I’ll be here tomorrow morning, I promise.”

“Please stay,” you repeat, and then you’re crying.

San folds the second he sees your tears. “I’ll sleep on the floor then.”

“No.”

He says your name in a scolding tone, though it doesn’t hold any bite. “I won’t sleep in the same bed as you when you’re drunk.”

“Is it because you think I’m a slut?” you ask, Jungkook’s words somehow cutting through the haziness of your drunk mind.

“What?�� San lets out, sounding offended. “No, not at all. Why would you think that?”

“Jungkook…” you trail off, and you hold Mr Snake tighter.

San sighs. “I don’t know what happened at the party with him, but please don’t listen to him.”

“It’s hard.” You sound tiny, vulnerable, and you wish you could just disappear.

San sits on his bed. “I know.” There’s a short moment of silence, and then San suggests, “I’ll stay with you while you fall asleep, okay?”

He moves until he’s sitting on the bed next to you, his back against the headboard. You turn to face him, a small thump indicating that Byeol jumped off the bed. And then you pat his thigh, almost comically, and San smiles down at you.

“Yes?”

“Lie down.”

“Y/n…”

“Please.”

He sighs, wetting his lips, but he still obeys, lying down next to you. The fact that he’s over the covers makes it a little hard for you to move closer, but you manage to put your hand on his stomach.

“Aren’t your underwear wet?” you ask out of nowhere.

“I changed when I got you the painkillers,” he answers. “Don’t worry about me.”

“M’kay,” you whisper, your eyes fluttering shut.

You’re out a few heartbeats later, the alcohol and your exhaustion winning over your will to stay awake with San.

And though you don’t know it, San stays with you a lot longer than he said he would, just looking at you.

Making sure that you’re okay, despite the knowledge that a good part of your heartbreak is his fault after all.

Prev | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

now that everything is out, I promise it will get better. please reach out if you need to talk or have been a victim of anything similar <3

#be with you ch 11 #be with you #san angst #san smut #san fluff #san x you #san x reader #san fic #san #choi san #choi san angst #choi san fluff #choi san smut #choi san x you #choi san x reader #choi san fic #be with you series

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glubglubgurgle · 2 months ago

Text

bruised apples

caleb's willing to wait forever for you, but why would you like someone else?

pairings: Caleb/unnamed afab MC

tags: fluff and angst, angst and romance, yearning!!!!, old days, non canon compliant, slow burn, awkward love, eventual romance, eventual smut, dry humping..., caleb third person pov

word count (C1-9): 21.4k

a/n!: cross posted on ao3! this is my first time posting a fic on tumblr...idk how to format everything prettily like everyone else TT this is also my first time writing a fic in forever and first time writing anything smutty in general. there is def some grammar issues...sorry!!! but i hope u enjoy anyways :3

CHAPTER 10 CHAPTER 11-12 CHAPTER 13-14 EPILOGUE

Chapters 1-9 below!

Chapter 1

“I think I like someone.”

Caleb was as resilient as can be. It took more than a few hits to the face to take him down, if anyone even managed to get that close to him. He endured far more physical and emotional pain than anyone his age should have experienced.

But his world came crashing down once the girl he dreamed of every night said that one sentence.

He was on his break from the DAA, and she sprung the five words during dinner, ever so casually. She poked at her food with her fork, biting her lip and avoiding eye contact. He knew she always felt uncomfortable talking about boys with him. Admittedly, he gets really defensive about her and the guys around her. All these years of protecting her, he could never be sure about anyone’s intentions.

“Please say something, you scare me when you’re quiet.” Her hand rested on his. “He’s really nice, and I don’t even think he likes me like that. I just wanted to tell you because I feel really strongly about this crush for once, and you’re important to me. I don’t wanna hide anything from you.” Her fingers gripped on his tighter as she rambled.

Caleb finally recovered from his thoughts, noticing the scowl building on his face and attempted to reverse it. He let go of his fork and put his hand atop of hers. “Pips, I’m glad you like someone. I just worry about you, but thanks for telling me.” He raised her hand with his and stared at her fingers. Nails painted like red and green apples. Thoughts of her in her room painting her nails while she missed him flood his brain. “He’d be an idiot to not like you back…” he mutters. The frown on his face twitches back into a soft smile. He let go of her hand and pinched her cheek, eliciting a shriek from her.

“Hey!” She pulled her hand back from near you and rubbed her face. She resumed eating, a small smile played on her lips, as if she felt accomplished.

“So…” Caleb drew out the o’s. “Who is he? Does he have good grades? Is he nice?” Feigning a positive interest. Truthfully, it killed him.

She, on the other hand, seemed very interested to talk about her mystery man. She took her last bite from her bowl before bringing her legs up to hug her knees. She rested her cheek on her right knee to look at him while talking, giddy. So entranced by the thoughts of her crush, she didn’t notice the way Calebs fists were clenched under the table or the way his lips would betray him and frown every now and then.

“He sits next to me in class, right now. We switched our seats around because everyone was sitting with their friend the first week.” Her cheeks turned pink thinking of him. “I never really interacted with him before…I think we were on opposite sides of the class every year before, but also there was never really any reason to.” She shrugged, eyes wandering while thinking of the past. She shook her head to get back on track and looked back at Caleb with a sort of gleam in her eye. “He’s really smart, I think he was top of the class last year. We didn’t really talk much at first, but he saw me struggling with a math question and helped me out. Ever since, we’ve been talking more and more.” She giggled.

Her smile would always put one on Caleb’s face. This one stung. A smile meant for someone else. Did he even deserve it? Does he even know how lucky he is?

“Don’t worry, I’ve done a background check on him…kind of. I know you always tell me to be careful and from what I’ve seen and heard, he’s good!” She stood up and saluted at me, “Won’t let you down, Captain Caleb!” She released her position and laughed. She picked up her dishes to take to the sink.

Surprisingly, Caleb heard the water running and dishes clanking. Normally she left her dishes for him to do.

He got up and walked toward her. Her back faced him and he had to hold back from doing anything rash. Multiple scenarios played in his mind. What if he just admitted his feelings now? What if he begged her not to like this guy? What if he made him disappear?

Instead he wrapped his arms around her, and rested his forehead on her shoulder. “I was only gone for a few weeks and you already found someone to take up your brain…” He let out a sigh against her sweater before breathing her in. She even smelled like candied apples.

She giggled, again. She turned the water off before turning around to look at him. She grabbed his face with both her hands and shook him around. Just like she always did when they were kids. “There’s the jealous and protective Caleb.”

His eyes widened at her reaction. Lax and carefree.

“You were being so supportive, I was starting to wonder if they cloned you over at the DAA and sent back a faulty one.” She snorted a little before letting his face go to turn back to the dishes. “And it’s been empty around here…but I’m not replacing you. You’re very important to me. I just really like him, but who knows if it’ll go anywhere. I think crushes are fun. And it’s my last year!” After setting her bowl on the drying rack, she turned back around and poked his cheek.

Caleb cleared his throat, and regained his posture. Crossing his arms, he looked at her with mock judgement, “Yeah, Pips. It’s your last year, shouldn’t you be studying? You better not throw away your Hunter dream for a guy.”

She rolled her eyes before pushing past him. “You didn’t even finish your food. Eat before you start to lecture me, I’m not doing your dishes.” She snarked back before dropping onto the couch.

Caleb stood in the kitchen, touching his face where she left electric currents. He knew he was screwed. How is he going to pretend to be okay with this? He knew he had to. He didn’t want to scare her off, and he just wanted her to be happy. Would this guy make her happy? As much as he made her happy? Would that guy cherish her the way he cherished her?

“When you’re done, come watch a movie with me.” She said from the couch, shaking him from his own thoughts. “I missed so many new movies because I waited to watch it with you.” She grumbled.

She was quick to say things that meant the world to Caleb, but it probably just came off casually to her. He tried to shake off the confession of her crush on someone else and cleaned up his own dishes. He was itching to spend time with you, and he didn’t want this bump in the road to get in the way. On one hand, this crush wouldn’t turn into anything serious. Like she said, they just started talking more.

But the idea of someone not liking her just doesn’t seem possible in Caleb’s brain. She was perfect according to him. Perfect for him, even. He couldn’t find the possibility of whoever that guy was to not like her back. Would he be strong enough emotionally to let her be happy with him? To stand by and watch someone else take her away?

Caleb sat at the end of the couch while she laid her head on his lap. They always watched movies like this. She always ended up falling asleep if she didn’t like the movie. And he always watched her, admiring her, before falling asleep himself. Their grandma would always come home to find them slumped against each other on the couch with the TV running.

The first movie was not to her liking at all. She fell asleep in the first ten minutes. Caleb wanted to keep asking about the mysterious guy, but he heard her soft snores and felt a damp patch on his thigh as she started to drool. He bit his lip as he stroked the top of her head.

“How could you like someone else, Pipsqueak…?” He mumbled, soft enough to not disturb her. It was destroying him. He was wondering if he could drop out and wait for her to graduate before going back to the DAA. But if he did that, how would he take control of the sky for her like he promised? He wanted to give her everything, but he also wanted to be her everything. Caleb loved her. He wished he could be selfish and take her as his own. He knew he could make her happy, he knew because he would do anything to make her happy. Would the other guy do the same?He knew he was thinking crazy. He was planning out the future at great lengths just because she had a simple crush. He couldn't help it. Caleb was terrified. His biggest fear was losing her.

Chapter 2

The two walked down the familiar path of the park near their home in silence. Although the awkward situation died down, Caleb was unable to keep away from his own thoughts. Despite the chilly autumn air prickling both of their skins, his blood ran hot with the thoughts of another guy taking up your time. He had to stop himself every now and then to remind him that they weren’t even close like that.

It was a dumb crush. He hoped endlessly.

“Caleb?” Her voice tore through his thoughts and ripping him from his worries. “It’s the fall festival and you walked past every apple stand without a glance.” She poked at his cheek and tried lifting the corner of his mouth into a smirk. “You promised me a pie. Why are you so stressed?” She got on her tippy toes and her hand moved up to his furrowed brows, trying to massage it out. “You haven’t told me anything about how the aviation academy is treating you…” She muttered, looking at him with a sort of puppy-dog eyes.

He grabbed her hand and held it for a second before letting it drop back to her side. “You’re getting nosy, Pip. I wonder who you learned that from,” a natural smirk formed on his face.

She rolled her eyes and hooked his arm with hers before continuing to walk. “Is the aviation academy cool? I want to visit next time.”

Caleb looked down at her as they walked and a pit in his stomach grew. She looked so beautiful to him, this was his world. He felt like he was going insane trying to fight the thoughts in the back of his head of someone else taking her away from him. After all he fought for. Everything about her felt like home and she was his primary motivation. How could she like someone else? He looked at her hairpin, the one he got for her from a small shop at Skyhaven, and reached out to touch it. “It’s fun learning, I miss being back home with you and Gran, though.” He softly said, meaning it wholeheartedly. “I’m glad you use this, I was worried you wouldn’t like it.” He said with a small smile.

“Of course I like it, silly.” She looked up at him from the side with a wide smile. She stopped them from walking and let go of Caleb. She reached into her bag to grab her coin pouch that was also gifted by him and put it to her face to smile even wider. “I love everything you give me! It makes me feel like a bit of you is still with me even when you’re away.”

His heart warmed. The necklace she gifted him suddenly felt warm on his chest, as if to remind him that he does and feels the same thing. “That’s good. I am always here for you.” He smirks, patting the top of her head.

She got on her tippy toes and her face got close to his, arms almost wrapping around his neck.

He stilled and everything else stopped. He looked onto her smiling face and his eyes fell to her rosy lips. So close, yet so far.

Her hands tinkered around his neck looking for the familiar chain to pull out from under his shirt. She gruffed before settling back down on her feet. “Why do you hide it, embarrassed?” She fixed the necklace atop his chest where it was visible. Once she was satisfied, she walked towards an apple stall that was run by their neighbour.

Caleb took a moment to recover. He could have kissed her right then and there. Maybe she would have reciprocated and he wouldn’t have to worry anymore. He knew it was wrong. Caleb needed her and he wanted to be someone she needed too. He rubbed the back of his neck where he could still feel her fingers and then caught up with her.

“Caleb, how many apples do we need for a pie?” She called out to him, waving her coin pouch again.

They grabbed hot ciders from a stall and found a bench to sit on under the streetlights, overlooking the festival crowd. “I told you about my crush…did you meet anyone you like?” She asked. Caleb could’ve sworn the question was laced with fear or hestiance, but he brushed it off as hopeful thinking.

He took a sip of his cider before shaking his head. “I don’t have time for that, you know me.” He set his cup down beside him. “It’s just like high school again, though…I’m just so charming.” Caleb smirked, looking at her.

She rolled her eyes before lightly pushing him, “Heartbreaker…none of them interest you? There’s no way not one of them caught your eye” She sips on her own cider looking away.

There was a pang in his chest, if it wasn’t her being worried about him, it felt like she was trying to marry him off. And it hurt him that she didn’t know that all he could think about was her. He was too busy with school, and even busier with her happiness and safety occupying his brain. “Nope.” He popped the ‘p’ and rubbed his palms on pants. “I’m too busy trying to become your personal pilot, Pip. Why would I be interested in anyone else when you’re already a handful,” he tried to joke. “Do you want me to get a girlfriend that bad?” He leaned towards her ear and muttered.

She slowly turned her body to face him and looked at him in the eyes. “Would it be bad if I said no?” She bit her lip, a nervous habit that she gained ever since Caleb said he was going to the DAA the previous year.

It was like Caleb’s lungs had the air sucked out by a vaccuum as he tried to wrap his head around what she said. From pure instinct, he reached out with his thumb to release her lip from teeth. “That’s not fair, Pipsqueak. If I said that about your crush, you’d get mad at me.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

She quickly covered her face with both of her hands before standing up, “I was just kidding. I’m gonna go find a snack.” She ran off before Caleb could process anything else.

It was always like this. She would say something that would make him feel like there was a chance that the two shared the same dreams. The dream that there would be a happy ending, together. More than just the closest friends since childhood. Caleb just thought she was also as big of a coward as him. But eventually it would work out. He hoped.

Was what she said really just a joke? If there was any true meaning behind it, even just a sliver, Caleb was willing to hold on tight to it. He grabbed the bag of apples and the two ciders before walking off to find her again.

After weaving through the crowd of families, he spotted her yellow cardigan. Next to a guy in a white muscle shirt and ripped jeans. Caleb’s fists tightened around the cups he was holding, but he managed to control it to avoid piercing the styrofoam. As he got closer, he could see her laugh at something the guy had said. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ears that were tinged with pink.

He didn’t seem to be a threat. In fact, he seemed nice. In Caleb’s eyes, though, he was an enemy. He knew it was him. Her deskmate, the one she said she liked.

“Pipsqueak, did you find anything else?” Caleb acted casual, stepping beside her while holding out her drink for her to take.

She seemed stunned to see him, as if he wasn’t just with her less than five minutes ago. She stammered a bit before grabbing the drink and shaking her head. “O-oh, I ran into my classmate so I got distracted.”

Caleb’s eyes pierced through hers and he could feel how nervous she was. Was it from what she said or was it from the guy in front of her?

“This is my childhood friend, Caleb. He’s visiting from the DAA!” She regained her composure as if the chance to brag about knowing someone at the aviation academy fueled her confidence. “And this is my deskmate, Eric.”

Eric.

Caleb wished so deeply that the man he was so worried about would remain nameless.

Eric reached his hand out to Caleb, “It’s nice to meet you, she talks about you all the time.”

Caleb smiled, surprisingly with some sincerity because of what Eric said. He grabbed his hand and was met with a firm handshake. “You too, I hope she doesn’t bother your studies with dumb stories about me.”

Eric shook his head, chuckling. “No bother here. I’m actually interested in what she has to say about you. I’m also planning on attending the DAA. I hope I can rely on you in the future.” His dark purple eyes looked at Caleb, hopefully.

Someone called Eric’s name from afar and everyone turned to find another girl waving at him.

“Oh, that’s my sister. I have to get going. Have fun! I’ll see you at school next week.” Eric waves at the two before running off.

The two of them watched her crush disappear into the crowd. It was awkward and silent for only a few moments, but it felt like years to the two of them.

Caleb was the first to break the silence. “That’s him, huh?” He couldn’t help the disappointment in his voice, but he hoped she was too flustered to notice. He looked to find her looking down at her shoes.

“It’s not like I’m in love with him,” she muttered. “Doesn’t he seem nice, though?” She finally looked at Caleb, seeking some sort of approval.

He reluctantly nods. There were multiple alarms ringing in his head, but he couldn’t deny that Eric seemed like a decent person. He will never be too sure and he would never deserve her, though. “I just want you to be happy, Pips. I’ll be here for you whether or not anything happens between you two. Just be careful and don’t let your grades slip.” He pats her head, with a slight hesitation at first.

“...You know, he kind of reminds me of you.” She beamed. “Maybe that’s why I got comfortable quickly. He helps me with my studies and he also wants to be a fighter pilot. How silly.” She starts to walk through the crowd again, shrugging.

Caleb wondered why she’d need someone like him when he was there all along.

Chapter 3

Caleb wasn’t able to sleep the night of the festival.

He tossed and turned thinking of everything that happened. And it was just one day. He was excited for this weekend, just so he could see her again. Instead of being met with open arms, he received the crushing news of there being someone else she liked. And he was apparently someone like him.

The idea that she looked for Caleb in this new person clawed at him. Why would she have to look for someone else like him instead of giving herself to him. There was no denying it anymore. He knew that deep down, she felt the same way about him. It just killed him that she drew an invisible line that she forbade herself to cross. If it wasn’t Eric, would she look for someone else? How many people would she look for Caleb in before giving up and admitting to her own feelings?

Caleb got up and sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. He knew he was the only one who could really protect her from what’s out there. Eric would never know what to do for when the inevitable happens. He didn’t see or experience what happened to them as kids. She doesn’t remember it, but it haunts him every day.

As much as a good person Eric could be, he could never provide what Caleb has and will. He knew that.

He looked at his wall. Multiple frames of the two of them. The smile she wore calmed his heart. The memories of him being able to hold her kept him sane. The very essence of her made him feel alive.

And at the end of the day, he couldn’t lose her. He was willing to bear the pain of seeing her try to do what she thinks she wants. He knew that if he tried to stop her, he could lose what they had at that moment. He didn’t want to be the reason she’s uncomfortable, upset, or crying. He wanted to be strong for her. And for her, no matter how long, he would wait.

He hoped to whatever deity there is, that he would be strong enough.

Still unable to sleep, Caleb walked down the hallway into the kitchen. Passing by her room, where the door was slightly ajar, he halted. She was sleeping soundly on her bed. The moonlight from the window shining lightly on her features.

Caleb understood his weakness. And it was her.

Walking inside, he softly sat on the edge of her bed and put his hand atop of hers for a moment before holding it. Unexpectedly, the motion blinked her awake.

“Caleb…?” She mumbled, her hand slipping out of his to rub her eyes.

“Shh, Pips. I didn’t mean to wake you.” He whispered, flustered at his carelessness. “You can go back to sleep.

“Did you have a nightmare?” She softly asked, squinting at him, attempting to blink the sleepiness away. The corner of her mouth lifted slightly. “You’re just like me…come here. I’ll do what you did when we were kids.” She scooted to the side of her bed and opened her arms to him while patting the now-empty side.

Caleb chuckled. Inside, he felt extremely hot and flustered. But this was truly home and he wasn’t able to resist.

She used to be the one waking him up on a stormy night, and Caleb always welcomed his bed to her. Falling asleep in each other’s arms was no stranger. He was always happy to be able to provide this comfort for her.

He slipped into her arms and she giggled. “It’s been a while…it hasn’t rained in Linkon for a while. But now you’re the one crawling to me.” She turned to her side and let her arm drape over his chest while he moved his own arm for her to use as a pillow.

“Yeah,” was all Caleb could mutter.

She went back to sleep in an instant. She began lightly snoring and her breath was warm against his bicep.

It was pure bliss and he wished he could take a snapshot of this moment and live in it forever. He would’ve admired the sight the whole night if it wasn’t for the extreme feeling of comfort weighing his eyelids down. And he fell asleep with her around him.

“I can’t believe you’re already leaving tonight. You just got here…” A frown was evident through her voice as she rested her forehead on the wall of the hallway.

The two had just woken up early in the morning. It should be just like any other day of them sleeping in the same bed, since they’ve done it for years. But Caleb felt like it was different since his feelings were pushed to the outermost part of his heart out of defense. For her, on the other hand, he assumed she built more bricks on the invisible line to keep her from crossing it and this really was just another day. Awful luck for him.

He reached over to her with both hands on shoulders to turn towards him. “I’ll call you every day, like I always do.” He unstuck the hair on her forehead and wiped a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb. “Should I just drop out?” He smirked at her.

She jutted her bottom lip out to pout harder, somehow possible. She shook her head before leaning in and wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his chest. Muffled yet audible, “No…I’m just not used to being gone. I don’t know if I ever will be.” Caleb felt wet spots through his thin shirt, where her eyes were. “Gran’s usually out or sleeping early. I don’t wake up to you cooking and no one’s waiting for me outside the school gates.”

She cried for the same worries when he first left for Skyhaven. Now her worries came true, and Caleb thought that it must’ve been harder for her because of that. He thought that maybe that’s why she was so desperate to find someone else. It was hard to blame her, he never could. But at the same time, he just wanted to be selfish for once.

He grabbed her hands from behind him and unwrapped her from him, so he could talk to her face to face. She looked up at him with already-swollen eyes and the same pout, making his heart ache even more. He held her face with both his hands, gently like he was holding the world. And in his head, he was. “You know I’m always here for you. I’m just one call away. I’ll drop everything for you and I’ll always do my best to visit on weekends. It should be a little easier since I’ve settled in.” He wiped another tear from her face. “Don’t mope too much and spend time with your friends, though. You should enjoy your last year before the Hunter’s Academy.” He gave her a soft smile. “Now go take a shower, you’re all sweaty and crying.” He tried to lighten the mood, pushing her towards the bathroom. “I’ll set up the kitchen to make our pie.”

With that, she finally smiled. She stopped at the doorframe of the bathroom before turning back around to hug him again and muttering a small thanks. And then she was back in the bathroom and he heard the water running.

A bit taken aback, Caleb was just relieved that she was worried as much as he was. And missed him as much as he missed her. It really solidified the bond they had and it helped reinforce that no one could really break it. Although the worry was still there, he knew he could bear it longer and wait for her.

The kitchen counters were soon covered in flour and mixing bowls and the two of them baked to their heart's content. Another snapshot Caleb wished he could live in forever. Carefree quality time with the love of his life. The flour on both of their faces was caused by each other’s foolery. The smell of the autumn air, warm apples, and baking crust filled their home.

“I wish we could just stay like this.” She laughed, sitting on the counter as Caleb checked on their pie in the oven. “I love fall. It feels so worry-free when we do things like this.” Her feet swung as she took in the scent of the scenery.

“Me too, Pips.” He smiled, closing the oven. Another set of reassurance calmed his worrywart heart. “Once we both graduate and when I’m back in Linkon, we can do this every day.” He turned to her and dabbed more flour on the tip of her nose.

She snorted the flour out before bursting in laughter.

“That is, of course, if you’re not too busy saving the world as the best Hunter in it.” He smirked at her, gathering all their dishes.

She got back down from the counter to help him clean. “It also depends on you being too busy up in the air saving birds and stuff.” She teased.

“Hm, saving birds will always be fun in the future,” he played along. “But I’ll never be too busy to spend time with you.” He patted her head with his flour covered hand, earning a playful glare from her.

She then retaliated by ruffling his hair with her own floury hands. “Same here.” She then said, with a genuine smile.

Leaving that night was hard for Caleb.

She insisted on going with him to the train station.

“You’ve survived three whole weeks without me, Pip. You’ll be okay.” Caleb pinched her damp cheeks. “You’re crying more than you did when I first left.” He tried to tease her with a smile, but it hurt him to see her so sad.

Her eyes got redder as she rubbed them with the back of her hoodie sleeve. His hoodie actually, but she seemed to have stolen it from his closet while he was gone. It was enormous on her, but she looked comfortable. “I don’t know…I kind of got used to our routine of calling at night and stuff. But since you came back, I just remembered how much I missed how it was when you were here.”

“I’ll really try to come back next weekend. Only if you promise to do all your work and get good grades. You know the Hunter’s Association doesn’t just accept anyone.” He tried to be a good motivator, but if he was being honest, he was willing to turn in his leave of absence letter to his own academy and plan his gap year for her. “Give me a pinky promise.” He held his pinky out like they always did.

She swam her hand out of the long sleeves of her sweater and interlocked it with his, before locking the promise with their thumbs. “I’ll be studious and strong until you come back again.” She mocked bravery and nodded.

“Atta girl,” Caleb said. “Go back now. Let me watch you leave.” He turned her around and kept her facing the exit. “If you turn back, it’ll make it harder, so don’t.” He pushed her slightly, but surprisingly she didn’t budge.

Instead she turned back around and wrapped her arms around his neck before reaching up to leave a peck on his cheek. All before she turned and ran away.

The spot on his cheek was on fire and so was his chest. His resolve began to crumble on the spot. The strength he once believed he had was slipping away through the cracks of his fingers like sand.

Chapter 4

He was unable to return that weekend.

Nor the weekend after.

Although he was doing good in all of his classes, teamwork was prioritized in the academy. And that meant weekends dedicated to team assignments and training. As much fun that he had with his classmates and new friends, it couldn’t outweigh the pain of leaving her

It was unbearable for Caleb. The broken promises lingered in the air whenever they called at night. The look on her face whenever she saw him through the screen, as if she was going to crack at any moment. The first weekend was hard because when he told her that Friday that he couldn’t go home, she hung up immediately and wouldn’t pick up his calls until Sunday. She sent him one-word responses to his texts and kept saying she was busy when he tried to call.

It took a bit for her to be less upset. It was a bittersweet thing to think about in Caleb’s mind. He was, in a way, happy. That his presence meant so much to her. But he did not like how upset he made her feel.

It was inevitable, though. He knew she expected this and so did he. Aviation academy, although it was his dream, he knew it would take him away from her like this. And even if it wasn’t the academy he was going to, it would be the one she would go to the following year. His main dream of being by her side would be thrown off by his and her dream job.

As the days went by, she became less upset and even back to normal at one point. She always asked about his day and then she’d go on for a long time about hers. He looked forward to it every night, he hoped that she felt the same way.

The workload of the academy became even more vigorous as the weeks went by. The more they transitioned from paperwork and hypotheticals into field work and practicals, the more time was taken away from him.

“You look awfully chipper today, Pipsqueak. Anything happened today?” Caleb looked at her through his laptop screen, smiling at her phone. They always did their homework together on video call to make it easy for her to ask him for help. Caleb didn’t know why he didn’t suggest it earlier, but it was better than her asking Eric for help in AND out of class. Although her staring at her phone was unusual. She was normally very attentive to her work, but that night, she was overly invested on her phone rather than her studies. Caleb knew the answer, but he hoped she would prove his hypothesis wrong.

“You remember Eric? We’ve been hanging out more! We even exchanged contacts, he’s pretty funny.” She must have noticed a face on Caleb from the way she cleared her throat before setting her phone down. “But I should get back to work.” She nodded.

He couldn’t control his face, but he tried to avoid scowling at least. “I’m glad you’re happy, Pips. I hope it goes well for you.” He said through gritted teeth, hoping he sounded genuine. “But if I hear that your grades are slipping, I’m making you move schools.” He looked back down at his work. He was actually already done with it, but he just wanted to seem busy so she wouldn’t hang up.

“Can I ask you something?” She said, making his eyes dart back to his screen. He saw her fidgeting with her pen.

“Of course, Pips.” He was scared. This was one of the lines that was on the anxiety-inducing list, along with ‘we need to talk’ and ‘I will never love you more than just a friend’ but it wasn’t number one. His mind raced through the multiple things she could ask about: his love life, quantum mechanics, why he was so obsessed with her, why he loved her, why he won’t let go of her, kitchen recipes. The list went on in his head.

“How do you know if you REALLY like someone?” She mumbles so quietly, the mic almost didn’t pick it up. “And like how do you know if someone likes you?”

Caleb dropped his pencil and tried to find an answer to give her that didn’t give him away. “Uhh, I’d assume that if you looked forward to seeing them everyday. If you wanted to prioritize their happiness over yours and you’d do anything for them.” He rubbed his chin trying to think of more answers, “Maybe if you smiled every time you thought of them.”

“It sounds like you have experience…” She muttered, wide-eyed towards him.

He stammered, “W-well, I’m just assuming. I did say I was assuming, right? I read books. Haven’t you read books? I’ve seen your bookshelf. Shouldn’t you know better than me?” He hoped he sounded convincing. He heard a snicker behind him to find his roommate Gideon laughing. Caleb glared at him and Gideon went back to pretending to be asleep. Thankfully, when he looked back at the screen, she was looking down at whatever and didn’t notice.

“Well, yeah. I think I know. I just wanted to hear from a guy.” She mumbled. It was silent for a moment before she groaned and ruffled her own hair out of frustration. “I don’t even know if he likes me!” She hid her face in her hands.

“Can you see the rest of your life with him?” Caleb blurted out. He couldn’t help it. He knew he would be better for her because he knows he’ll be there for her until the end. He would do anything to make sure of it. He knows she can see him in the future too.

“Oh my god, Caleb. We just started being friends like two months ago!” She groaned even louder and dropped her down to the desk. All he saw then was the top of her head.

Caleb softly chuckled to himself. He knew his answer after a few moments of knowing her. He knew he wanted to protect her again and again until the end of time. Love at first sight, he thought. “I’m just asking, Pips. You sound so serious about him.” Caleb found it in him to tease her. “Are you gonna do anything about it?” He was confident earlier. After the last question, he got scared again. What if she wasn’t the ‘love at first type’ girl and she instead enjoyed a slow friendship to lovers pipeline. Shouldn’t he still be able to be the latter? But Eric could fit the latter too.

She got up and shook her head before tilting her head and thinking harder. “I don’t think so…maybe talk to him more and even hang out? We had lunch together…but in the cafeteria so it’s not that crazy.” She turned to the camera, her eyes boring into his through the screen. “What would make you like a girl?”

He pretended to think. In his head he knew the answer: likes his cooking, is afraid of thunder, dreams of being a Hunter, loves apples and apple designs, sucks at physics, sleeps in until noon, loves horror movies but can’t sleep after…the list went a long way but the answer was simple. Be her. “She’d have to be someone I can be myself with and be comfortable with.” He was proud of his vague answer. It was still about her. Home.

“You’re so basic, you’re no help.” She snorted before starting her work again. “I’ll just let the tides take us to where we have to be then. If it’s meant to be, then so be it.” She giggled.

With this, Caleb silently prayed to the tides she spoke of. In his head he prayed that they would take them to a point where they are the true ending. That the stars point to him as her one true love.

They hung up soon after. She was tired from her homework and they both had class the next day. When Caleb shut his laptop shut, his roommate Gideon propped himself up on his elbow. “You’re incredibly obvious. How does she not see it?” His eyes followed Caleb’s as he sat down on his own bed.

“I thought you went to sleep.” Caleb rolled his eyes, slipping under his sheets after turning off the desk lamp.

“You kept bouncing your leg, I couldn’t sleep. And anyways, that call was the most interesting one yet. I was sure you were going to confess tonight.” Gideon laughed. He layed back down and looked up at the ceiling. “I was confused why you turned down every single girl in our class the first week. Once we settled in here, I realized you’re madly in love.”

“Yep…” Caleb sighed. There’s always a stack of love letters by his door and presents at times. He didn’t know how they had the time to do so, considering the academy’s heavy workload. It was the same during high school. At least then, someone was able to reap the rewards of his attractiveness. She would always eat the snacks given to him. Now it was Gideon, but he couldn’t keep up with it either. “How come everyone else but her sees it?”

“Judging from how I see it, I don’t think she really cares for how hot someone is? And didn’t you two grow up with each other? Maybe she’s looking for someone new…? Not to ruin your life or anything…” He suggested, trying not to push his buttons. Gideon knows how angry Caleb could get.

Someone once complimented a photo of her on his phone and said some depraved words along with it. If Gideon didn’t clock the fire behind Caleb’s eyes, the crude guy would’ve lost an arm.

“New…” Caleb mulled over the idea before shaking his head. “You know the guy she has a crush on…she said he reminds her of me.” It was his turn to prop himself up to face Gideon across the room. “And in a way, he reminded me of me too.” Tall, brown haired, pilot centric. The similarities were incredulous.

“Dude.” Gideon sat up. “She’s looking for your replacement. Maybe she thinks that after being away for so long, you’ll find someone else. And she’s trying to beat you to it.”

Caleb flipped over on his bed to groan into his pillow. He doesn’t think Gideon’s completely right, but he could tell that she was worried about him getting a girlfriend. She said it herself. But the replacement part sounds correct. She can’t bring herself to love him, and she’s looking for other people like him. He didn’t know why he opened up to Gideon. Reassurance, he thought. Yet all he received was reassurance for the wrong parts. He wanted to hear, ‘She DOES like you!’ not ‘She’s REPLACING you!’

The weekend he could go home finally arrived. A month after he promised he would. To make up for it, Caleb wanted to surprise her. His professor was out sick that Friday and he was able to leave early on Thursday. He wanted to wait for her at the school gate, like how he did before.

He propped himself against the stone fence, looking up at the trees that still had some of their red and orange leaves. He looked around the area and was reminded of when they were at school together. Even though it was only earlier in the year, it felt like ages ago.

She usually took forever packing up since she loved to chat with her friends after class. He would stand at the same spot waiting for her. Back then, he would sometimes hide to avoid his own classmates. Mainly the girls in his class. Her classmates weren’t as bold as his. They would look at him and whisper to their friends, but besides that, he had nothing to worry about.

That present day was no different. As people poured out of the property, he had some stares here and there, but no one bothered him. He raked through the crowds looking for her.

The ring of her laughter reached his ears and filled him with even more warmth that the sun could never give him. He saw her walk down the steps, and even though she was walking beside Eric, all he could think of was how glad he was to see her again.

The sun shone at her perfectly. Her eyes sparkled as she smiled in the daytime. He felt like he was falling in love again, but it was hard to know that he couldn’t just run up to her and kiss her in front of everyone. To let everyone know that she was his. Because she wasn’t.

He wanted to hold her face in between his hands and stare at her for hours on end in the sunlight. And memorize every curves on her face and the colors in her eyes. He wanted to be the reason she laughed and smiled.

As she got closer, she saw him.

Caleb stood confidently and in awe at the same time. He missed her.

And by the looks of it, so did she. The moment they locked eyes, hers began to look shinier with tears. She started running towards him without a notice to her friends or even Eric.

“Hey Pipsqu-” Caleb said with a big smile on his face before she interrupted him by throwing herself around him.

“You’re such an asshole,” she muttered into his neck as she hugged him.

His arms wrapped around her waist to support her up and he smiled into her hair, “I know, I’m sorry…I’ll take whatever punishment you have for me.” His heart felt full, having her this close to him.

Time stopped for him. It was like everyone else disappeared when he saw her. The sun shone brighter and the air became cooler and breezier. He was truly home.

She stepped down and looked up at him, still teary-eyed. He wiped her tears with his thumb and chuckled at her. “Miss me much?” He teased her.

She nodded, pouting. “I got good grades just for you to not even show up in person to congratulate me.” She lightly punched his arm. A perplexed face covered her sad one. She reached out again to squeeze his arm. “When did this happen…?”

He rolled his eyes, hoping his face didn’t look as warm as it felt. “I’ve always been rock solid.”

She shook her head, punching his bicep even more. “Stop flexing.”

He wondered if he even was flexing but he wasn’t. Did the academy have him working that much? Caleb went to the gym everyday like he always did. Yet, the academy did add a few more routines that he didn’t do before. “I’m not…”

“What? What are they feeding you over there?” She was engulfed in his new muscles. She started poking other places like his shoulders and even his abdomen. She was shocked, it seemed like. And he felt embarrassed by how much she was touching him.

He grabbed both her wrists and held her hands in his. “Hey, I just got back and you’re already giving me a physical examination?”

She shrugged, “I have to make sure you’re real. But speaking of that punishment for leaving your dear friend alone for so long…” She looked towards her group of friends, the one with Eric in who waved at him. They were waiting on the other end of the gate for her. “You’re gonna have to eat dinner alone, to suffer like I suffered.” She nodded, proud of coming up with the wording of her penalty.

His heart dropped and he pouted at her. “Really?”

She covered his eyes, “Don’t look at me with those! This is your fault for dropping by unannounced. My friends want to eat at the new BBQ place that just opened up. I’d say come with us, but they were really strict about the number since they’ve been packed the whole time.”

He was extremely sad to say the least. “Go home and make me a dessert. Make sure to pour your whole apologetic heart into it. Maybe I’ll forgive you then. Also, Gram won’t be home. It’s mahjong night.” She dropped her hands from his eyes, before covering her own after seeing it again. “Ugh, your puppy dog eyes are insane, Caleb. No wonder you always got your way. Not this time! I’ll see you at home.” She ran off the other direction before hustling her friends to get walking.

He was left alone by the gate. Watching her walk off with her friends and the guy she likes.

But at least he had a few minutes of pure bliss. And he hoped to make it up to her when she got home. He quickly gathered himself and went shopping for his heartfelt apology.

Grandma got home before she did. Caleb and her had a small chat about how the academy was treating him. And she let him in on how much she complained about him not being home, which made Caleb chuckle at the thought of seeing her annoy grandma about him. She had to go to sleep soon after since she had an extreme night of mahjong, according to her.

Caleb was in the kitchen finishing her cinnamon rolls. He was indecisive with what to bake her but there was a lot of cinnamon stocked up for the fall vibes. He kept glancing at his phone, to see if she messaged him back. She must have been too enthralled with her conversations to look at her own phone.

He tried to focus on the fact that she was having fun with ALL of her friends, and not at the idea that maybe she was sitting next to him at the restaurant. Where was Eric sitting really? Next to her? In front of her?

It was eating at him, but he didn’t want to spend his break time with her worrying about anything. He just wanted to enjoy his time with her.

He didn’t put his work into the oven yet because he wanted her to enjoy it fresh. He waited for her to text him back so he could pop them in. Yet, an hour passed by and then another with no answer.

He wanted to wait for her longer, but it was worrying him too much. Instead, he searched for any new restaurants that opened up on his phone to find out where she went. He found one that matched what she said and he instantly threw on his jacket.

Caleb walked to the door and opened it to find her and Eric. And it looked like they were both leaning into each to kiss before being interrupted by the living room light and him.

Chapter 5

“I should go inside now, bye Eric.” She said, flustered. She glances between Caleb and Eric.

Eric looked like he was a deer in the headlights, wide-eyed and embarrassed. “Yeah, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gave an awkward wave and acknowledged Caleb at the door.

Caleb who was red in the face. Eyes were darkened and his fists were clenched. His grip on the doorknob was deadly, and it was most likely molded by his fingers.

As Eric walked off quickly, Caleb finally closed the door. He didn’t slam it, but there was force to it. As if he really wanted to.

The mantra Caleb held onto was falling apart. The strength he thought he had emptied to the floor all in one go, rather than leaking out of him. What he thought was just a stupid crush was evolving right in front of him. Every day that he wasn’t with her, he was losing her to another. If he stayed with her, would he be the one to inch closer to her? Would she be so desperate to find warmth in someone else’s arms?

He stared at the door, stuck in his thoughts. Until her voice cut through the silence. “I’m going to take a shower…I smell like smoke from the restaurant.” She muttered. He could hear the awkwardness and panic.

Caleb couldn’t get a word out and let her walk off.

It wasn’t just a stupid crush. She liked him, and it was a no-brainer to him that he would return her feelings. He wanted to be grateful that he stopped them, but who or what was going to stop them next time? Was he going to drag her to Skyhaven with him just to keep her away from Eric? The dorms at the DAA didn’t allow visitors to stay overnight during weekdays.

Multiple options popped up in his head at record speed, all of which were futile. There was no stopping her from doing what she wanted to without ruining their own relationship. The only option was to hold himself back and endure this newfound relationship of hers day after day. He didn’t want to pray for the downfall of her relationship either, because that meant seeing her cry. But at the same time, he would rather let another guy make her cry. At least then, it would let Caleb be the shoulder to cry on.

He was disgusted by himself. The desperation became so evident. He wanted to be with her, wholeheartedly. And since he can’t have her, his deepest desire was that no one else can have her. He knew it was wrong.

So instead of acting on anything, he put his cinnamon rolls into the oven.

Instead of going out to kill the guy or blow up his house so they’d have to move…he decided to bake. Caleb knew the only reasonable route was to follow her route: let the tides take them to wherever. He’ll secretly pray it won’t work out. Every time she comes to him about something he did, he’ll push her to end things with him and focus on herself. He knew it was still a bad plan and wouldn’t be considered socially acceptable, but it was better than murder.

He looked at his reflection through the oven door. He looked crazy. A scowl looked like it’s lived on it for decades and his eyebrows were practically knitted together. He mirrored his inner emotions. Disgusted and upset. Disgusted by his lack of control and his lack of support for the one he loved. He rubbed his face in his hands, attempting to smooth everything out.

The DAA made them do breathing exercises in order to avoid panic when problems arise during flight. He thought he would never have to use them since he was practically fearless in the air. Instead, he’s used it to calm himself down from the multiple potentials of losing his world.

“Caleb?” He heard her behind him.

He didn’t know where he pulled the strength from, but in a flash, he was able to put on a normal face around her. A soft smile was always easier once he saw her face. Despite everything, his heart still beat for her. No matter how broken it might have been at that moment.

She was in her pajamas, her hair dripping on her shoulders, dampening the fabric. She extended a towel towards him, “Can you dry my hair like old times…?” She bit her lip, looking at the floor.

He took a few steps towards her, perplexed. “What’s wrong?” He brushed his thumb on her lip like usual to free it from her teeth. “If it’s because I ruined your moment…”

She looked up at him, panicked, “N-no! I just…I want you to dry my hair.” She shoved the towel into his hands before storming off to the floor of the living room of the couch and turning the TV on.

Caleb wished he could read minds. He was completely lost as to why she’s acting like this. The last time she asked him to dry her hair was when she didn’t receive any Valentine’s in her freshman year. He never told her, but he was to blame for that. He was in charge of the Valentine gram table that year (he volunteered) and he kept all the ones meant for her. He then returned it to the senders and basically threatened them to stay away from her.

The smell of baking cinnamon was permeating the air, he hoped it would calm down the tension. He’s glad it’s the dessert he chose. He learned from his mental health class that cinnamon was often used to lift spirits and improve moods. Yet he wondered if the mood was too heavy.

He walked over to the couch and sat behind her. She was looking for something to watch and paid no attention to him. He began drying her hair, moving from instinct. He covered the ends of her hair to scrunch out the water before moving towards her scalp. She leaned into his touch before letting out a sigh and it made his stomach coil. What was once such an innocent act became so intimate for him. And he wondered if this change was only for him.

She handed him one of her scalp oils to massage onto her. “My head hurts…can you put this on for me?”She finally settled on an old show that she’s seen multiple times.

Caleb didn’t really know much about her current hair care, but he just followed her instructions. He got pretty good at massaging whatever was needed between her and grandma. It’s just been a while since either of them have asked them to. As he mindlessly massaged her scalp, he tried to ignore the sighs of relief coming out of her and the small shivers.

It was quiet, minus the TV. Neither of them said a word. The timer from the oven then went off and he wiped his hands on her towel before getting up. He took his creation out of the oven before setting it on the countertop to add the finishing icings and letting it cool. “Just wait a few minutes before you can grab one, Pip.” He said.

Caleb then went back onto the couch at the same spot. She didn’t move and he didn’t want to make her. He started braiding her hair like before, trying different types that she made him learn before. Raking his fingers through her hair to start over before trying another one. The tension was too heavy, the air was awkward yet cinnamon scented. He wanted her all for himself and it was killing him.

“I’m kind of glad you found us…” She finally said, dropping her forehead to touch her knees. Her hair falling out of Caleb’s hands.

“Huh…” was all Caleb could say. “What do you mean, Pip?”

“I don’t know, I don’t think I wanted him to kiss me.” She sounded muffled, but the desperation to understand made Caleb hear her crystal clear. “I didn’t feel anything when we were close to each other.”

“I thought you liked him.” He said, unsure. He wasn’t trying to talk her out of how she felt, he just wanted to understand. Was he overreacting this whole time? Was he planning murder for nothing?

She suddenly stood up and faced him, looking down at him. “Can you just…sit there? Don’t move. Don’t say anything. Please.” She softly pleaded with him.

Caleb was frozen but he mustered a small nod.

She knelt down with one knee on the couch in-between his legs. And slowly leaned towards him, making full eye contact with him as she did so. Her breathing was uneasy and the warmth from face was radiating onto him.

Caleb couldn’t tell whose heartbeat he could hear. Both of theirs were so in-sync, it sounded deafening in the heavy air. His hands twitched at his sides. He didn’t have an idea of what she was doing. But he wanted to be greedy and close the distance himself. Yet, he stayed still for her.

She moved even closer to his face, the breaths mingling with each other. Her eyes moved from his to his lips, interchaging. Her breath hitched at the sight. His eyes bored into hers with desperation. And hers mimicked his. Before inching closer, she covered his mouth with her hand while the other clutched at her chest above her heart. She cursed under her breath before pulling away.

“I’m going to bed.” She quickly said before turning the TV off and quickly walking to her bedroom.

He heard her shut the door and it jarred him back to thought. His heart was hammering out of his chest.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, staring into space. Replaying the scene in his head over and over again.

The cinnamon rolls forgotten on the countertop.

Chapter 6

It rained that night, funnily enough for the two of them. The weather forecast had no prediction of any rainfall for the whole week, and the skies showed no signs of it either. It was as if that night wanted to mirror the emotions happening in the household between them.

Caleb was completely in the dark as to why she did what she did. There were multiple answers, but after being wrong so many times, he didn’t want to bring his hopes up or down. His head played back the scene over and over again that night. It felt like she mirrored the same desperation he had, for once. Like she wanted to go further.

He laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Occasionally his hands rubbed his face out of frustration. Caleb didn’t know how to move forward acting like she didn’t do what she did. They care about each other, but wasn’t she pushing him too far? There was only so much he could take. Physically, he could take a bullet, a grenade, an entire thing to protect her. But emotionally, she was his biggest weakness.

His thoughts were so loud, he didn’t notice the thunder that started rolling in the skies. The only thing that cut through his thoughts like usual was her voice.

At first, Caleb thought he was hallucinating her.

“Caleb…” Her voice calls out, muffled by the door. “Please…”

He rushed towards the door and when he opened it, she ran past him into his bed, under his navy blue covers.

Caleb realized it was because of the thunder. Except she was never this scared before. She normally came over with her headphones and laid next to him for extra comfort. This time, she was rattled and hiding.

He was about to get in bed when he remembered he developed a habit of sleeping shirtless. The weather in Skyhaven was more humid than Linkon, and it was just more comfortable for him to sleep without a shirt. He would also have nightmares when he missed home, and almost always woke up in a sweat. He quickly grabbed one from his closet to slip it on before laying next to her, atop of his covers.

His hand reached out to soothe her by patting her back, but everything was still fresh to his mind and his hand hesitated. He even kept his distance from her on the bed, afraid of scaring her away. As if she was a stray cat on the street, he waited for her to approach him before making a move.

Another loud boom in the sky and she let out a soft shriek before scooting closer to him, shaking.

His arm instinctively wrapped around her, protectively. “Hey…it’s okay. I’m here, Pipsqueak…” He said, resting his chin on the top of her head before pulling her closer to him. He softly chuckled, feeling her nuzzling deeper into his chest through the blanket. “I thought you said you weren’t afraid of thunder anymore. What else are you hiding from me…?” He meant to sound playful, but he meant it and he wanted to know. He needed to know what was in her brain.

She didn’t respond for a while. Her shivering soothed down the longer he rubbed circles on her back and shoulder, the longer she was in his arms. The thunder continued to rumble, mercilessly. “When I’m alone, it’s easier to deal with.” She said, pulling the cover down a little from her face to make sure her words were heard. Her warm breath hit his neck and he hoped she didn’t notice his shiver. “I don’t know why, but…when you’re here, I feel so vulnerable. Like I need you all of a sudden. As if I was just faking it while you were gone.” She covered her face again.

She NEEDED him. Caleb thought it was one of the most beautiful things she could ever say to him. He always wanted to be someone that she could rely on. He needed her to need him. That was his main purpose on this planet, he believed. As long as she needed him, he could keep going. The reason why her finding someone else scared him so much was because she wouldn’t need him anymore if she had someone else. Caleb found himself holding her even tighter, nuzzling his cheek on top of her covered head.

“Is that so bad…” He desperately wondered out loud. “What’s wrong with needing me?”

“Because you’re going your own path, Caleb. I can’t keep you locked up in this house, can I?” She said into his chest, probably hoping that he couldn’t hear her.

He did, though. And something about her saying that made his heart swell. He felt like he wasn’t alone with how he thought anymore. That although he had the craziest thoughts about her, he didn’t have to feel as guilty as having them because she thought them too. She just didn’t have as much trust in him. She’s deluded with the idea that something will come in-between them, when everything he does is for her. But at the same time, he believed the same thing. And even a whole part of him still believes that something CAN still take her away from him.

“You can be as greedy as you want to be,” was all Caleb could say. He waited for a response and felt her breathing at a rhythmic pace, asleep. He let out a sigh. Wishing he could keep talking to her, but at the same time was glad nonetheless. Happy that she was in his arms again. The light at the end of the tunnel flickering again, giving him hope. And soon, he fell asleep with her.

Caleb stirred awake from the vibration of his phone on the nightstand. His arms still wrapped around her. The alarm signified that she had to wake up for school. He kept the alarm on, even when he was at Skyhaven so he knew when to text her to have a good day. He found the curve of her shoulder before trying to softly shake her awake. “You have to get ready for class, Pipsqueak.” He quietly said.

Her face was out from under the sheets whilst the rest of her was wrapped up like a burrito.

Caleb couldn’t help but stare at her, slightly pulling away so he could get a better view. The sunrise casted a soft glow on her face if he moved at the right angle. And he was able to admire her even better. Her pink lips, slightly chapped from sleep. A drool stain on the corner of her mouth, and her dark circles were evident from a rough time sleeping. The word ‘beautiful’ echoed in his brain, over and over again.

The warmth and brightness of the sun was finally able to wake her up slowly. “Can I skip today…?” She mumbled, turning over, burying her face in the pillow.

He wanted to say no to her. It was always so hard for him to do so. Caleb knew that making her go to school would be the responsible thing. “Grandma wouldn’t allow that.” He said, avoiding blame.

“I’m 18 now, they don’t call guardians about absences when you’re 18.” She responded, matter-of-factly, lifting her head from the pillow so she was clear. “Besides, she’s going to the mountains today to visit her friend for the weekend.”

Caleb thought for a moment. A plan brewed in his head to get answers, a selfish plan. He wanted her to admit whatever she was doing the night before. He couldn’t get it out of her during the storm, but he felt confident this could have been the moment. But he wanted her to be more clear headed. “Wash up while I think about it. I’m going to make breakfast.” He poked her side, knowing she’d be ticklish, to wake her up.

She yelped and grumbled before unraveling herself from his sheets. “Fine.”

He noticed that she wouldn’t look at him. She avoided every means of eye contact, and he was doing the exact opposite. She was talking like normal, but he could see right through her. The tension from the previous night lingered. And whether it was regret or something else from what she did, it stuck with her.

Caleb felt lighter. She didn’t like Eric. She felt something for Caleb, but he couldn’t understand why she kept building a wall between them. He couldn’t fathom how oblivious she was that he was doing everything to mine his way past the wall. He wanted to bulldoze it, but he waited for her to make an opening first.

Her words of her needing him rung in his head, bringing a small smile to his face. He propped himself with one hand, and the other hand covered his mouth. Hiding the growing smile from no one, but he was just in shock. “I need you.” It replayed in his head a dozen times and he felt giddy. If a doctor could see everything playing in his brain, he would have been institutionalized. His heart swelled with her words. He needed to be needed by her. She was his life source and he wanted to be her pillar. If she moved on and found someone else to rely on, he’d crumble. And as strong as she may be, he didn’t doubt her skills or her smarts, he still wanted to be stronger and smarter so she could lean on him regardless. As wrong as it may have been, he wanted to be better because if he wasn’t, she wouldn’t need him.

After celebrating and battling his inner thoughts for a few more minutes, he got up to head to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

It was a few minutes before she came out of the bathroom and plopped herself on a chair by the dining table. She was glued to her phone, eyebrows knitted, biting her lip.

He walked over with a plate of food for her. “What did I say about doing that?” He reached over to her to unlatch her lip, but she ever so slightly moved away from him. A miniscule but noticeable movement that made Caleb’s hand hover near her face before reeling it back.

“Sorry, I’m just kind of…” She dropped her phone on the table before grabbing a fork to eat. After taking a bite, she talked with her mouth full, “Can I please skip school, I don’t want to sit next to Eric today.”

Caleb gave in in an instant. Abandoning his plans of getting more answers from her. If staying home kept her away from the guy that tried kissing her the last night, he was agreeing to it. He sat across from her and gave her a reluctant yes. If wasn’t as attentive as he was, he would have missed the small twitch of her mouth, the corner turning upward for a split second.

They sat in silence, eating. Slightly uncomfortable as the tension lingered, but at the same time, slightly comfortable from being with each other at home.

The two of them finished eating quietly. He was still unused to the way she volunteered herself to clean up the table afterwards. After years of unfulfilled promises of doing the dishes the following night, she began doing it without even being asked. It was bittersweet but more bitter on Caleb’s tongue. He was gone for so long, she began being independent in certain aspects.

“Are we going to talk about last night?” Caleb finally mustered up the courage to ask from the table while her back was turned towards him. The sound of scrubbing plates halted.

“Do we have to?” She said, setting the plate down onto the sink. “Can’t you just let it happen?”

He hated hearing the pain in her voice, but he didn’t want to just ignore everything. “That’s not fair.” He stood up and strided towards her. Grabbing her arm and turning her to face him, her gaze stuck on the floor. “What were you testing…? Why won’t you tell me? Why won’t you let me in?” He knew his eyes were pouring desperation and longed to meet hers. His hand moved to her chin to tilt her head upwards to meet gazes. “Please?”

“It’ll change everything, Caleb. I can’t do it.” She pleaded with him.

“Change can be good, if you can just tell me. We can make whatever it is work.” His other hand let go of hers to wrap her face with his hands. “Won’t you trust me?”

They stood in the kitchen looking into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity. Both eyes mirrored the same desperation and pleading and uncertainty. She was the first to break it. She grabbed both of his hands to bring them down. “I’m not ready…can you just…can you wait for me?” Her eyes fell back to the floor, her hands fiddling with his trembling fingers.

Caleb thought that if there was a contest on who was more desperate, he was sure he’d win. But at this moment, she won by a mile. He pursed his lips and managed an understanding smile, not quite reaching his eyes but she wasn’t looking at him regardless. “I’ll always wait for you, Pipsqueak. I just hate feeling like I can’t help you.” He brought his hand back up to pat her head. “I hate seeing you like this and being unable to do anything.”

They could’ve stayed there for a bit longer until Caleb’s phone rang through the silence.

“Hello?” He answered without checking the Caller ID.

“Caleb, I know you’re in Linkon, but our project…the one due Monday. One of the parts fell apart during testing today. We need you back, as soon as possible.” It was Gideon, probably sounding the most desperate from the three. “I’d handle this myself, but to be honest, I don’t know how to. And you know how much we need this.”

Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why can’t we do it tomorrow?”

“We only have the testing site reserved for today. I tried moving it to Sunday…knowing where you are, but it’s fully booked with everyone else. Not a single room is open this weekend. I’ll pay for your cab here, just get here soon. Please, I’m not taking any other answer. Let me know what time to send the cab there.” And with that, Gideon hung up.

Caleb let out a curse under his breath, covering his face with his hands to hide his frustration.

“Y-you have to leave?” She said, her voice breaking.

His hands fell from his face to see her tearing up. He wondered if his heart shattering at the sight was audible. “Yeah…I’m sorry, Pipsqueak. Really I-” He tried defending himself but she pushed past him and ran to her room, slamming the door.

He texted Gideon a string of curses before giving a ready time of an hour. Caleb finished the dishes and left multiple notes on the fridge: a how-to-reheat-cinnamon-rolls, an apology note with a drawing of an apple on an airplane, and an ‘IOU amusement park trip’ coupon. He then grabbed his wallet from his room to pull out one of the many ‘forgiveness’ coupons she gave him when they were kids and slipped it under her door before taking a shower.

Once he was clean and packed up, he stopped by her door and knocked on it. “Can you at least see me out, Pipsqueak? I don’t want to leave like this.” He begged. Caleb waited for a few minutes before accepting defeat and walking away. He combed through his hair with his fingers, fully frustrated at the events that rolled out after wanting to spend as much time with her as he could.

As he walked through the front yard to head to the cab, he heard the door open behind him and saw her running up to him, crying. She wrapped her arms around his waist, making him stumble backward. Her cheek was pressed up against his chest, surely hearing his pounding heart. “I’m sorry for being such a coward, Caleb.”

He never understood how his confident voice seemed to get lost every time she was involved as she was. All he could do was stare at the top of her head and press his hand on her back.

They stayed like that for a minute before the cab honked their horn, and let go of him just as quickly, running back inside while wiping her tears with her arms.

A soft smile played on his lips as the realization of being closer to his dreams settled in his heart.

Chapter 7

“Why were you so hostile over the phone, did something happen?” Gideon pried while Caleb was tinkering angrily at the piece of metal that ruined his weekend. “You know it’s only Friday, you can still go back…if you finish that part.” Gideon looked over to Caleb ignoring him. “Or invite her here. I can stay with our pal, Patrick, and she can take my bed.”

“Really?” Caleb decidedly stopped ignoring him and looked towards Gideon. “Should I?”

Gideon’s hand tightened around the wrench he was holding, seemingly holding back from throwing it at him. “If you had a tail, it’d be wagging like a helicopter blade right now,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, really. Don’t even think about texting her yet until we finish here.”

Caleb could barely keep in his excitement as he worked on fixing his ticket to a better weekend. His leg happily bouncing on the work stool he sat on, he even found himself humming to a song.

“Now will you tell me what happened that warranted for me to learn three new curse words?” Gideon prodded.

“You’re so nosy.” Caleb snorted. “She said she didn’t like the guy anymore…kind of. In a way, she basically said she didn’t like him.” He kept the story short because he didn’t want to get too excited. And he didn’t want to overshare in fear of it turning out to be wrong or bringing his hopes too high. He was still in a headrush from the line “I need you.” And he wasn’t sure if he’d ever recover.

Gideon gave him an impressed look but didn’t ask for more. A reason why Caleb liked Gideon was because he was an observant guy. Nosy was a better word, but he would also know the right time and place to be nosy.

They continued to work silently and efficiently. Three hours passed by before their project was back to working.

Caleb practically flew out of the testing sites to grab his phone to call her. After three rings, she picked up.

“Caleb?” She answered, confused.

The confidence drained out of Caleb. He was just with her that morning and they even slept in the same bed the previous night, but when he heard her voice again, he felt like a middle school boy talking to his crush for the first time. “H-hey.”

“Hi…” She replied, with the same shyness and a hint of confusion. “Did you…need something?”

“Do you want to come visit me? Here in Skyhaven?” He asked, full of hope. The last time she was at Skyhaven was for the tours before school started, and that was with Grandma.

“Next weekend? I don’t think I can.” She replied, a little sad.

“No, right now…I can talk to Grandma and then send you a cab.” He excitedly said. “Bring some clothes, my roommate will sleep at a friend’s so you can sleep over in my dorm.”

“Just us two?” She asked, her question lined with disbelief.

“We’ve shared a bedroom before, Pipsqueak. Why are you so surprised?” Caleb cocked his head to the side with confusion, until the realization settled in. “Oh, I guess it’s kind of different…” Since they were usually in the home they shared with Grandma, and this time they would be truthfully alone. An awkward situation for a pair that had obvious feelings for each other. “If you want, I can also sleep in a different room, and you can have the dorm to yourself. I just want to spend time with you.” Caleb recovered, hoping she wouldn’t decline.

“I don’t want you to go somewhere else…I was just flustered a little. Don’t worry about it. I’d love to come.” She said after a few seconds. “I’ll let Gran know, too. I’m gonna get ready then. See you soon, Caleb.”

“See you, Pipsqueak.” He could barely squeeze out. Something about the way she said his name left him speechless. She rarely used his name if it wasn’t to greet him or to call him. The excitement filled him to the brim and he ran back to his dorm to clean.

He wasn’t a messy person, but Gideon wasn’t a super neat person. And he wasn’t going to let her sleep on some other guy’s sheets, even if it was just Gideon’s.

“Do I get to meet her?” Gideon asked while Caleb was wiping every surface and vacuuming every inch of the floor.

“If you throw your sheets in the wash, I’ll think about it.” Caleb responded.

“Did you tell her that you told everyone you have a girlfriend back home that’s basically just her?” Gideon reminded him.

Caleb stopped in his tracks. Another wave of realization. When he first got to the DAA, he was bombarded by affection from many of his classmates. Although he was used to this attention from high school, it was a lot harder to work with at the academy. He was a lot busier and they were a lot more persistent. Rejecting them was getting more tedious for him since many of them asked for an explanation. When he first went back home to visit, he snagged one of her many hairties from her desk, the frilliest one, and wore it around campus. He read from a college forum that many boyfriends used this method to deter other people from flirting with him. Unfortunately for Caleb, word got around that he came back to the academy with a new status. Many of them asked about his girlfriend and he found it a lot easier to talk about the girl back home than rejecting girls left and right. He ended up going along with the story of having a girlfriend in Linkon and it significantly kept him unbothered.

Caleb cursed under his breath. “Surely no one will…”

“They will.” Gideon finished his thought. “Not everyone goes home for the weekend, why do you think I’m here? Someone will definitely stop you and ask about her.” He compiled his sheets and began walking out of the room. “I’ll be back to grab my stuff…Don’t explode trying to think of a solution.”

Caleb sat on a chair trying to figure out what to do. There was no way she wouldn’t be weirded out by him for doing this, but at the same time, she could be a very understanding person. Whichever her reaction would be, the only choice he really had was to come clean. He internally cursed at himself. The entire time he pretended she was his girlfriend to everyone at the academy didn’t feel like a lie to him. Mainly because he WAS rejecting everyone for her. The title was the only lie.

His phone buzzed on the table to find a message from her: “be there in 10 mins…i think. can u pick me up from the entrance?”

He was filled with multiple emotions. Excitement of spending the weekend with her, like planned. Anxiety and guilt with having to tell her what he’s been doing. And extreme anxiety and longing from being completely in love with her.

He took a moment to recuperate his thoughts before finishing his cleaning. He even changed the sheets on Gideon’s bed and set his bag by the door for easy access. After a few more finishing touches to the place, he grabbed his keys and headed out.

He jogged to the front of the academy, excited. Somehow the trees in Skyhaven became greener despite it being autumn, nearing winter. The air became less humid, and the atmosphere seemed brighter to him. His anxious feeling lingered, but the previous disappointment of leaving her was forgotten and the giddiness of spending the weekend together took over.

As he got closer to the gates, he saw the cab stop and her step out. She was dressed in a long flowy beige skirt with an olive green oversized cardigan. Her long hair spilled over her shoulder as she got out of the car, and the sun hit her perfectly. Caleb thought that even if she was in her pajamas, his mouth would still salivate at the sight. Something about her being on the same ground that he’s been trapped in for the past few weeks and the next few years made him feel elated. He was also in a pit of sorrow a couple of hours ago on the cab back to the academy. The image of her crying when she realized he had to leave was etched into his brain and it clawed him from the inside out. But at that moment, it was so easily erased with the new face he saw of her making eye contact with him at the gates of the school.

“Caleb!” She waved at him with a wide grin. She shut the car door and walked towards his direction.

He slowed down his speed as he got closer and scooped her up into his arms when they made contact. A bubbly laugh left her and tickled his ear and he spun her. He held her for a few seconds before dropping her back to her feet. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear before holding her face lovingly. “Hey.”

Her face was slow;y turning a pink hue. “Hi…you’re acting like we weren’t just together in the morning.” She attempted to pry his hands away from her face.

He pulled her into another hug, “I know. I just thought I wasn’t going to see you again for another month, let me enjoy this.” He rested his chin on her head and felt her arms wrap around his waist. “I was also hoping that me being this affectionate will help lessen the anger that might come from what I am about to tell you in a few seconds.”

She stiffened under his arms. She tried to push him off, but he kept her pressed against his chest. His heart racing from the contact and from freaking out about his confession.

“Remember the hairtie you lost.” He started. He peeled her off his chest and looked at her confused face before walking her to a bench under a tree and sitting her down. He then knelt in front of her before continuing his story. “I stole it to wear around campus so people would think I had a girlfriend and they would stop bothering me.” He fled through his words hoping she wouldn’t focus on details. “Except they were more curious than I thought and kept asking about my ‘girlfriend’ so I just pretended it was…” He looked down at the floor as he finished. “You.”

“Huh? Me? And you stole my scrunchie?” She held her chin with her hand, contemplating the details.

Caleb pulled his DAA jacket sleeve up to reveal the hair tie on his wrist. “I heard it keeps girls away from you…” He sheepishly explained.

She gave him a grumpy face, which was then replaced with a puzzled look. “Why me…? Couldn’t you just have a fake girl in mind.”

He shrugged. He could have just outright said how deeply in love he was with her and he was just manifesting the situation that she would be his girlfriend. Or maybe that he was taking notes from all the dramas she watched back then where they would fake-date and then end up actually dating in the end. There were multiple things he thought he could have said. “You were the only girl I could think of. And you were all I could really talk about…” He ended up saying.

Her breath hitched slightly and her face turned red before looking away from him. “You’re saying weird things…” She chewed on her lip.

Caleb got up and grabbed her face again, his thumb tapping on her lip like usual. “Are you mad?”

She took a second to think, her cheeks warm on Caleb’s hands. She grabbed his wrists and pulled them down and held it in front of her before shaking her head. “I don’t think so…A little about my scrunchie,” She looked at him and softly smiled at him, “I don’t really mind your plan.”

Her smile made him want to lift her up in the air and give her a big confessional greedy kiss. He held himself back instead and returned the smile. “Great because we are definitely going to be stopped by multiple people at the dorms. So get ready.” He held his hand out to her. “We have to play the part. Let’s drop your stuff off and then I’ll take you to a bakery nearby.”

She hesitated slightly before standing up. Her hand taking his, intertwining her fingers with his. He thought they fit together like puzzle pieces, perfectly. Caleb was slightly worried that his hand would sweat profusely from the nervousness he was feeling.

A sort of sadness settled in his heart. That he was holding her hand so intimately under false pretenses. They held hands before, but it was never with interlocked fingers. She was the one who told him that only couples would hold hands that way. And he was always waiting for that transition in their relationship.

“Are you going to show me around later?” She asked. It was a bit of a silent walk as Caleb sulked about faking holding hands.

“Weren’t you with me on the DAA tour, Pipsqueak?” He cocked his eyebrow at her.

She rolled her eyes at him and pinched his arm. “Yeah, but now I want the tour from the hotshot freshman that’s stayed here for weeks on end instead of coming home.” She pouted at him.

“Yeah, yeah. This hotshot will give you a more personal tour.” He laughed, the sound reverberating through his chest. He felt warm and comfortable with her.

They walked through the paths of the academy, hand in hand. The previous night and morning’s quarrels seem to be forgotten. Not in Caleb’s mind, completely. Only repressed for him to over analyze again at some point. But at that moment, he was worry-free.

“I’m glad you’re here, Pipsqueak,” he softly said to her.

She let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around his arm. “Me too, Caleb.”

As they reached a more crowded part of campus, murmurs could be heard. Whispers of rumors and exclamations floated all around them. As more people looked, the tighter her grip on him became. “You’re really popular…” She mumbled.

“I think you’re the star of the show, this time.” Caleb had some sort of pride inflating inside of his chest. Even if it was pretend at that moment, he was able to claim the prettiest woman in his eyes as his to everyone around him. He was proud of everyone looking at her that she was clung to his arm. He tried fighting the smile that threatened to erupt from his face out of fear of her detecting how much he enjoyed what was happening.

“They’re all looking at us.” She glanced desperately up towards him.

He confidently smiled back. “They’re curious as to who managed to steal the cold-hearted wannabe pilot’s heart, Pip. I was brutally rejecting everyone.” He lied. Although he didn’t really care for anyone who paid him any attention, he never wanted to be an asshole either.

He was met with another eyeroll. “As if. You couldn’t even hurt a fly.”

Caleb laughed at her internally. She was oblivious. Caleb recalled the intricate plans he had the day before to get rid of Eric. There was also the time he locked her in the attic to fight some bullies in their neighborhood. He was glad that she could only see the nice side of him.

A classmate of his walked up to them, “Woah, Caleb! Is this the girlfriend you were talking about?” His attention towards her, “Some of us thought he was lying to get out of going to parties. He said you were a clingy one. I guess he was telling the truth after all!” He laughed.

Caleb choked out an awkward laugh. “Clingy girlfriends are a brag, you know.” He looked towards her, fearing that she would feel awkward and put on the spot.

Her grip on him tightened and she looked up at him with puppy eyes, mimicking the ones he gave her when he whined. “Have I been taking your time away from your friends?”

The classmate was the one to answer, “Oh, don’t mind us! Since you’re real, we’ll just sulk in jealousy instead. We were worried he was just brushing us off. Hope you guys have a good day!” He ran off to tell the rest of his classmates.

“Hm, what else do you say about me?” She dropped his arm to enter another pondering pose.

Caleb scoffed, “Besides being my girlfriend, everything I say about you is very truthful.” He wasn’t lying, he would just prefer not to repeat all the lovey-dovey things he’s said about her. Someone once asked what she looked like and he went on a whole ramble about how her eyes sparkled.

A familiar face was walking nearby, the one that made nasty comments about the photo of her on Caleb’s phone. Caleb’s jaw tightened as his arm snaked around her waist and guided her to keep walking.

“What’s wrong?” She shivered from his new hold.

“I don’t like some people, just keep walking. We’re almost to the dorm.” His grip on her was stiff, but he tried to be gentle. “Don’t walk around campus alone at any time, okay? Skyhaven isn’t as safe as Linkon.”

“You’re kind of scary sometimes. Maybe you would hurt a fly if they were mean first, huh?” She noted. “But alright, I wasn’t planning on leaving your side anyways.”

The ice grip on his heart melted in seconds as she said that, a blush creeping up his neck onto his ears.

They finally made it to the dorm and saw Gideon outside the door. “Ugh, finally. I forgot my key and you took forever to get back.” He got up from the floor and his eyes lit up seeing the girl on Caleb’s arm. “Woah! It’s you! Nice to meet you!” He extended his hand out for a handshake. “Caleb quite literally never shuts up about you. I think you’ve seen me in the background of some of your guys’ calls. I’m Gideon, his roommate.”

She giggled and took his hand. “Hi! Caleb’s mentioned you too. I hope he hasn’t said anything too bad about me. He talks badly about you all the time.” She joked.

Gideon punched Caleb playfully. “Ass.”

Caleb took his key out to open the door and let the two of them in.

“Thank you again for letting me sleep here.” She said to Gideon.

“After what happened this morning, I don’t think he was going to let me sleep in here anyways. Better put it to good use if it’s not me. I’m gonna head out now. Maybe we can all have dinner together before whenever you leave!” Gideon said packing some more essentials before grabbing his bag and leaving.

“Your roommate’s cute.” She said, plopping onto his bed.

Caleb’s whole body stiffened.

“In a kind of dumb way, he seems funny though.” She laughed, signifying a lack of attraction.

And then he relaxed. “Don’t call my roommate cute, that’s gross. And you’re supposed to be my girlfriend when you’re here, Pip. What if someone heard you?” He looked at her with an accusatory glare.

Her mouth fell open and then closed, as if she took back what she was going to say. Her face dropped a bit.

“What’s wrong?” Caleb asked, walking towards her before kneeling beside the bed to rest his hand atop of hers. “Did I say something wrong?”

She sat up and looked at their hands touching. “I’m all for being your…’girlfriend,’” she made air quotes as she said it, slipping away from his hand. “But…how is it so easy for you to joke about it? Is it that funny?” She bit her lip, looking at him with desperation in her eyes.

“I…” Caleb was at a loss for words. It wasn’t easy for him at all, but he wanted to play it off as something playful so she wouldn’t feel too uncomfortable. “If I showed you how hard it was, I’d scare you away.” He knew that if he showed his feelings for her first, he wouldn’t know if she would be ready yet and he'd spook her.

There was a moment of silence between the two. The tension from the previous night seeped back, and the previously airy and open space became hard to breathe in. She took his face into her hands. “Are you suffering as much as I am, Caleb?” Her head tilted, questioning him. “Am I really the reason why you won’t date anyone here?” Her thumb caressed his cheek and her fingers lightly touched his warm red ears.

His face felt like it was on fire and was electrified where she held him. He pursed his lips, suddenly terrified. He nodded slightly, fearing that his voice would crack if he tried to answer.

She slowly leaned forward, inching further and further to close the distance. It wasn’t like the night before. Her eyes were filled with desperation once again, but none of the hesitation was present. And was instead replaced with yearning and fire. “Do you…like me, Caleb?” Her breath was hot against his lips.

Another weak nod was all he could muster. He wanted to close the gap so badly, his arms were taut with holding himself back. But he waited for her to make the move.

“Can I…” She looked at his lips and then back at his eyes.

That counted for him. That was her first move, and he finally crashed his lips onto hers.

Chapter 8

Caleb felt like his heart exploded the moment his lips met with hers. Once he saw her eyes flutter close, he took it as a sign of her erasing the invisible line she created between them. Their lips moved against each other, awkwardly at first, but neither of them seemed to care. There was raw passion and desire in their touches, but Caleb had evident hunger for her the way he swallowed every breath and sigh she let out. He thought her lips were soft and warm, and wanted to explore even further.

He pulled away slightly, his eyes glazed with desperate intent. “Can you…open your mouth a little more, please.” He pushed himself up from the ground and set his knee on the bed, straddling her partially. The position made her push herself up further into the bed. Her eyes looked for his and she nodded before Caleb dived in again. His tongue pushing past hers and exploring her, trying to remember and map every inch. Caleb fully got on top of her and pulled away to rest his forehead on hers. Both were out of breath as he said, “If this is a dream, please don’t wake me up.” In complete disbelief of their position, his eyes were blown out as he looked down at her. The same expression painted her face, as she reached up at him to trace his features with her fingers. Caleb caught her hand and nuzzled his nose into it, “I would have waited for centuries for you…I just think I would have exploded doing so.”

Her eyes started to water and she pushed his shoulder to switch positions. It was his turn to lay flat on the bed, with her on top of him. She straddled him and cupped his face again. “I’m terrified of losing you, Caleb. I thought it would have been better if we just stayed how we did…but it was hard to imagine if you…did this with anyone else.” She slipped off her oversized cardigan, revealing only a thin tank top underneath, with nothing else. The sight alone made Caleb feel dizzy.

Yet, Caleb found the strength to sit up, closing the distance between the two of them again. He guided her arms to wrap around his neck. The soft caress of his fingers on her arms made her shiver and he kissed her again, with more fervor, tilting his head to get a better angle. He wanted her to stop worrying and be in the moment with him. He had the exact same worries and he knew how deep the pit was in his chest all those years. Yet, at this moment, it felt like it was full again. Caleb put a hand on the small of her back, pushing her even closer to him before he pulled away from her but kept their noses touching. “I could never be with anyone that wasn’t you…you’re the one who tried replacing me, Pipsqueak. I thought I was gonna kill someone…” He captured her lips again as tears fell from her eyes. In between kisses, he said, “Was I not…enough…for you?” He moved from her lips, to her cheeks, catching every tear that spilled from her eyes.

“I thought it would help me move on and let you be happy with anyone you met here.” She mumbled, burying her head in the nook of his neck. “I thought he was enough like you, but I knew it’d never be enough.” Her arms tightened around him. “What if we don’t work out?”

His chest tightened as he peeled her off of him in order to look her in the eyes. “I’d do anything for you, you know that, right? Are you scared I won’t be good enough or are you scared you don’t like me enough…?”

She shook her head, pouting. “What if you meet some-”

He stopped her with another kiss. “I could never love anyone else…please trust me.” He begged. Peppering kisses down her jaw and neck. He knew he was risking it by saying the word “love.” But he wanted to be open to her. He wanted to assure her that she was the only thing on his mind and in his future.

Her face turned red and her eyes had fire behind them. Half-lidded, she grabbed his face again and surged forward for a deep, fiery kiss. As if his words lit something inside of her. She pushed him down and situated herself more comfortably on top of him.

The movements on top of Caleb made his pants tighten. His face turned redder from her actions, and everything felt hot. He wanted to lift her away from his lap so she couldn’t feel what was stirring in his pants, but she grabbed his hands and guided it to move under her skirt. His fingers caressing her bare calves, hiking up her long skirt further and further until his hands rested on her warm thighs. His eyes shot open as he realized the only fabrics separating the two of them was their underwear and his pants. Her fingers played with the waistband of his pants, and he thought he was going to pass out

She rolled her hips onto the growing heat of his pants, and he pathetically whined into her mouth. It took everything in him to stop her hips from moving even more. “Pips, please.” Caleb thought he could have finished in his pants the moment he saw the desperation and want in her face. When he stopped her, a look of hurt replaced it.

“You don’t want…” She started to say, worried.

He threw his head back and covered his eyes with his elbow. “I do, gods, I want you so bad.” His hips jerked upward, accidentally or by instinct he thought. Another whine left his lips and a soft moan left hers, making his pants even hotter and tighter. “I just don’t want our first time to be like this,” he managed a chuckle through his tight throat. “I haven’t even taken you out on a date yet. And you haven’t even said you’d be mine…” He dropped his hand and sat back up. She squirmed in his lap, looking for friction and he held his breath before saying more, gripping on her hips to keep her from moving. “So…will you? Be mine?” He looked at her, his eyes piercing into her glazed eyes until he could see her regain clarity from the same head rush he was experiencing.

She leaned her forehead to rest onto his, her hips restless and relentless against his hands. “Only if you’re mine and only mine, Caleb.” A small moan escaped her lips and Caleb took no time to swallow it with a kiss. She pulled back after a bit to say, “Plan the date then, Caleb. I’ve been waiting for so long, it’s getting harder to hold back.” Pleading into another kiss, her hips moving stronger against the growth in his pants.

He couldn’t tell who was at fault at the growing dampness of his pants, if it was her or his own doing. Or a combination of the two of them. It made him light headed as he gave in, moving against her own hips. His arms wrapped around her waist, pushing him to move stronger against him. Caleb whined into another kiss, exploring further and deeper into her mouth. Their tongues fought against who got to explore who, but she moved even stronger against his warmth, making him gasp against her. “I…” He tried to tell her that he wasn’t going to last any longer. The sounds coming out of her, her lips against his, and her body against his body was driving him insane. Even though there were as many layers as there was against them, it still felt better than when Caleb released the pressure himself. It felt like heaven to him already, if he imagined how it was to be inside of her, he would have definitely made a mess on the spot.

“Caleb, can you…” She moaned against his lips, breathing heavily. Her fingers trailed down his face, neck, chest, stomach. Down in between her legs, playing with the button on his jeans. “Take these off, I just…I just want to feel closer to you.” She pulled back and moved herself to sit on his thighs. “We won’t go all the way, I promise. Just please, let me feel you a little more. I need you.”

The three words ignited something inside Caleb. He lifted her with an arm underneath her bottom, flipping her back swiftly onto the bed, earning a yelp from her. He pushed her skirt fully upwards to expose her underwear and airing the obvious dampness and excitement. His eyes were half-lidded, staring down at her. Any sign of fear or hesitation melted away from the three words, and they were replaced with extreme yearning and desire. Caleb unbuttoned his pants and swiftly peeled them off, without breaking eye contact, leaving him in his boxers. He quickly laid back on top of her, slotting himself in-between her legs. The two moaned into each other’s mouths, as he grinded into her with even more strength. His pace quickened as her moans and whines got even louder. The bed creaking louder underneath them. “I never thought…I’d be able to have you like this.” He moaned into her neck.

“Me neither…oh god.” She brought her hand up to her mouth to stifle her own sounds, but Caleb quickly grabbed her wrist and pinned it beside her head.

“Don’t…please. If I don’t hear you, I’m going to think this really is just a dream. Please.” He begged into her neck, leaving marks as she squirmed underneath him. “I’m so close.” He let go of her wrist, moving it down to hook under her waist to lift her up at an angle, so she would be more exposed to him. His right arm keeps his weight from crushing her.

She nodded, “Me too, Caleb. Please don’t stop.” She grabbed his face and pulled it away from her neck to pull him towards another kiss. A messy and uncoordinated kiss, matching the same uncoordinated thrusts that Caleb was putting out as he slowly lost more and more control. Their uneven breaths and moans entangled with each other as they shared the same air while chasing the same high.

He felt her shiver and tense up underneath him as she came undone, and he spilled into his own garments, tears pricking his eyes as he was hit with multiple shockwaves of his orgasm and he cried. He tried to keep up his own weight to avoid crushing her, as he rested his head in the crook of her neck, hiccuping into it. He didn’t know why he cried at first, until the fog of sex slightly cleared, leaving him in a state of immense jubilation. He didn’t know it was possible for him to cry tears of happiness until that moment where he cried from the pure ecstasy he felt. He stayed hiding his face, because he felt embarrassed that the first time they participated in a sexual act, he ended up crying.

She softly twitched underneath him, recovering from her own high. She pushed him softly off of her, “Caleb, are you crying?” A hint of worry was in her breathless voice, as she sat up to look at him, still twitching every now and then.

Caleb lied on his back, covering his eyes with his elbow once again, as tears fell from his eyes. “Don’t laugh…” he said in between hiccups. He reached out to one of her hands, intertwining their fingers together before putting it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “I’ve never done anything like this before and being able to experience something like this with you…is overwhelming me…in a good way. I just can’t seem to stop.”

She giggled softly, making Caleb peek at her to pout. “I said, don’t laugh.” He sniffled into her hand before she unraveled their fingers and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“Seeing you like this…makes me feel more confident that it wasn’t as one-sided as I thought.” She smiled before kissing his lips, a small meaningful peck. Her hands wiping the tears from his cheeks. “I almost thought you were crying because you regretted it.”

“Your trust in me seriously needs some work, Pip.” He calmly said, holding her hand that rested on his cheek. “You’re insane if you seriously thought that.” His hand moved up to the back of her neck, pulling her down for another kiss.

Then the door burst open with Gideon walking in, looking down at his phone. “Hey sorry, I left my–” He stopped as he looked up to see the two of them on his bed. Although she may have looked somewhat normal despite her blown up pupils and messy hair, Caleb was lying down in his boxers. A rather evident crime scene. “Guys. On my bed?!” He scoffed, close to yelling. “As happy as I am that Caleb grew a pair. He has his own bed like six feet away.” He turned around with his hands on his head, in disbelief. “You know what…keep that mattress. Keep the sheets. I’m going to beg Patrick to let me move in.” He turned back around and left through the open doorway, slamming the door shut.

“We can deal with that later.” Caleb said, continuing what he was doing before Gideon interrupted them. And she leaned down, giggling into another kiss. As embarrassing as it was, he couldn’t care less because he was able to finally call her, his.

Chapter 9

After a shower and a change of clothes, Caleb decided to switch beds with Gideon. He gave him a video call while she was in the shower to apologize. He wanted her to wash up first, but the mess in his boxers was a lot more unmanageable.

“You’re lucky Patrick won’t let me move in here…” Gideon grumbled. It was his turn to be upset at Caleb after that morning’s cold shoulder. A slight glint in Gideon’s eyes showed extreme interest in the current situation. “So…I’m assuming things are great.” And then as if remembering the reason for the call, he gruffed and rolled his eyes. “I mean, it better be if it was worth violating my bed.”

Caleb sat on his desk, propping his phone up to talk to Gideon hands-free. He took a quick glance at the room’s bathroom to check if the water was still running. He then looked back towards the phone and smiled. “Dude.” The events that happened just a few minutes before replayed in his mind and he buried his face in his hands, hiding the smile that was growing from ear-to-ear.

“Dude.” Gideon replied. The one-word exchange held a thousand words for the two.

Caleb dragged his hands down to make his eyes visible. “Am I dreaming?” He asked, slightly muffled.

“I’ll go over and beat the crap out of you, right now, and that’ll let you know if you are. I’m still upset, I’m hanging up…but I’m happy for you. Be safe. And stay OFF of my bed.” A genuine smile before annoyance flashed through his face before hanging up.

Caleb got up to lay on his bed to stare at the ceiling, giddy with the scenes replaying in his head. Every sound and word being manually ingrained into every crevice of his brain. It was making it hard for him to imagine having to go weeks without her, and it was also making him hard again. It was a lot easier to control before. Fueled by fear of being caught, he somehow managed to hide any hints of arousal around her. Now that he’s experienced bliss, it’s as if it has a mind of its own now. It was as if she held the key to every emotion, and she finally opened his heart to feel everything clearly. A weight was physically lifted off his shoulder and he just splayed out on the bed and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

She stepped out of the bathroom a few moments after and he propped himself up with his elbow to look at her. She was dressed in a simple attire of baggy jeans and a cropped tank top that hugged every curve on her upper body. Caleb felt like someone knocked the air out of his lungs as he studied her.

She stopped in her tracks on her way towards him as he saw her reation. Cocking her head to the side and crossing her arms, “You’re acting like you’ve never seen me wear this before…you bought this for me, too.” She tuts at him before walking over and throwing a small towel at him. “Dry my hair.” She basically commanded him, sitting on the floor beside the bed.

He HAD seen her wear the outfit multiple times, and he was the one who chose the color since she insisted on getting the top despite it being too short in his opinion. Yet, there was an aura to her that screamed ‘I like Caleb!’ The change of their relationship made her glow a million times more than before, and he wondered if he needed to start wearing his aviator glasses around her now. “You took the space out of ‘girl’ and ‘friend’, and now I’m forever shocked by your presence, Pips. If it’s a crime to find your girlfriend breathtaking, then lock me up, officer.” He teased her.

She groaned before turning her head to look back at him, “You’re so chee-”

He cut her off by leaning forward and running his fingers through the back of her head and pushing her towards him for another kiss. She softly moaned into it and automatically opened her mouth to him, making Caleb smirk against her lips before pulling away. She looked surprised and dazed when he did so, before giving him a pout. “I thought you wanted me to dry your hair. Turn around.” He said, feigning innocence.

She looked like she was about to say something before turning around, grumbling.

He took the towel from his lap and started scrunching her wet hair with it. He felt water droplets on her neck so he took a corner to wipe them off, his pinky caressing the tip of her ear, causing her to shiver. Whether he did it on accident or on purpose was all up to Caleb.

His phone started ringing on his desk and she quickly got up.

“Can you go check who it is? Grab the hairbrush while you’re up over there.” Caleb said to her, lying back down.

“It’s Gideon.” She said, grabbing his phone and the brush before going back to him. Instead of sitting back on the floor, she climbed on top of him and laid her head on his chest, handing him the two objects.

He grabbed his phone while letting the hairbrush fall to his side, and his other arm held her still against his chest while he answered, putting him on speaker. “Hey, you’re on speaker.”

“I forgot to tell you that the shooting club’s event is at the range tonight. They’re holding a competition for the most points shot, and I heard prizes include a romantic dinner.” Gideon chuckled. “They also include that one video game I really want, if someone wanted to make it up to me that I found them doing sinful things on my bed…but whatever.” Caleb could almost hear him roll his eyes.

He looked down to find her eyes and saw them staring at his phone, lit up. “Can I join? Can I shoot too?” She asked, grabbing the phone from him.

“Oh right, I heard you wanted to be a Hunter. Yeah, you just need to pay the off-campus fee, but you can enter the competition too. Try and win me the game, and I’ll consider letting Caleb go home on the weekends.” Gideon said. “You know I’m his partner for everything, if I slack off…a certain someone will have to stay on campus longer to work on our assignments twice as hard.”

She rolled off of Caleb and lied beside him, gasping. “You’re mean!”

“You did stuff on my bed! I don’t wanna hear it, missy! I’ll see you both later!” He hung up.

She threw the phone onto his chest and flipped onto her belly. “That’s so embarrassing! He’s never letting it go!” She screamed, muffled by the pillow.

Caleb laughed at her before getting on his side to play with her hair. Grabbing the hairbrush to run through it, he asked, “You still want to go to the shooting range later?” He ran the brush through her hair. He wqs hoping he could take her out to somewhere romantic, right at that moment, but winning a more expensive date sounded fun for him too. Seeing her eyes light up was also a big motivation for him. Although he thought she was more excited about shooting guns than going out with him. “Are you trying to get experience shooting before the academy?”

She pushed herself up from the pillow before facing her body towards him, taking the hairbrush from him and setting it down. “Can we? It sounds cool…I never fired one before. Except for that toy gun you got me a couple years ago. Remember how we were shooting apples and soda cans.” She reached out to pinch his cheek. “I was always so much better than you.” She giggled, scooting over to him to wrap her arms around his chest and nuzzling into it.

Caleb scoffed, “Yeah sure, you were the perfect shot. Let’s see how you handle recoil later.” He rolled his eyes, patting her head. He hoped she couldn’t hear his heart at that moment. The idea that they could do this mundane couple move was making him ecstatic. “The event’s in two hours, do you still want to go to the cafe?”

She shook her head, “I want to stay like this for a bit.”

“Alright, Pipsqueak. Whatever you want.” He placed a kiss on the top of her head as he held her tighter against him. “Are you gonna nap?” His voice lowers. His hand rubbing circles on her back while the other plays with her hair.

She moves back slightly to rest her chin on his chest to be able to look up at him. The adjustment made him move a bit back so he could look at her also. A comfortable silence took over as they stared into each other’s eyes.

Caleb took the hand that was playing with her hair to brush away the hair on her forehead. Then he planted a soft kiss onto it, lingering for a moment. When he pulled away, her eyes fluttered open to look at him again. “How long were you going to make me wait for you?”

She pursed her lips and then shimmied her hands free from around him before cupping his cheeks. “How long would you have waited?” Her eyes falling from his and landing on his lips.

“Forever.” He scooted back so he could take his hand and place it under her chin to force her to make eye contact with him again. “I thought I was going to kill someone when you told me you liked someone.” She winced at her decisions previously, biting her lip. Caleb tuts. “You need to fix this habit of yours, Pip.” His thumb pulls down her bottom lip free from her teeth before swooping into a kiss. He held her tight against him, afraid that she’d float away somehow. Her hands moved from his face to around his neck, her right hand running through his hair, sending a shiver down his spine.

“I’m glad you guys made it!” Gideon ran over to them through the sea of other club members.

The two of them walked into the shooting range hand in hand. Caleb made her wear his DAA hoodie since he knew the shooting club was mainly men. And as much as he wanted her to be free to do whatever she wanted, he didn’t trust himself to NOT knock someone out if they looked at her incorrectly. She provided no resistance, regardless.

The shooting club held shooting events every other week. Caleb and Gideon weren’t official members due to time constraints of their general meetings, but it was open to the public. Gun safety and training was part of the DAA curriculum, so it was good for the two to join in. To Caleb’s knowledge, this would be her first time shooting a real gun, though. They used to shoot wooden pellet guns before, as well as air rifles, but never real ones.

“Just register over there. Quick! They’re gonna start soon.” Gideon ushered them to the counter.

“You ready to shoot a real gun, Pipsqueak?” Caleb guided her with a hand on the small of her back through the crowd. “Keep in mind what I taught you on how to hold it.”

She nodded, giddy. “I can’t wait, let’s go!” She grabbed his wrist and made him walk faster.

As soon as they paid and got set up, Caleb went first so she could watch him. The contest consisted of five shots in total. The bullseye was ten points and each ring after, one point less. Much like the rules of archery. Caleb wasn’t an amazing shooter, by any means. But he was an above-average shot. Despite having the same experience as her, he was able to learn quickly on how to be precise and steady. This landed him with two bullseye shots and others close to it. One shot was a bit far off since he heard her laugh loudly behind him from what he assumed was a joke made by Gideon. He couldn’t tell if he was just entranced by her happiness or jealous that someone else made her laugh. Regardless, he lost his focus. This landed him with forty-one points.

He went back to her and she gave him a quick hug to lean into his ear so she could yell through ear protection, “That was hot, Caleb! My turn! My turn!”

His face felt hot and he laughed, pushing past her so he could watch her turn. The range was reset for her and she lined herself up, planting her feet on the floor. Her stance reminded him of when they were kids and she was shooting soda cans in the backyard, and he couldn’t help but smile. He saw her take a deep breath before pulling the trigger as she exhaled. Bullseye.

His eyes widened as he looked up at the screen that showed where the bullet landed, and it was dead center. He looked over at Gideon who had the same expression, mouth agape. Caleb knew she was a good shot, but he didn’t know how well wooden pellets could translate to actual machinery. In her case, it might have been perfect.

Another shot. Bullseye. And then another. Bullseye.

He didn’t realize it, but a few more people gathered around her, watching. “Is that your girlfriend?” An acquaintance of his shouted next to him.

His chest swelled with pride. After all those weeks of lying to everyone, he could finally respond with a truthful yes. “She’s great, huh?” He added.

She must’ve noticed more people watching since the last two shots were further off, but still close enough to be able to land her a higher score than Caleb. A final total of forty-six. A round of applause erupted from the people watching, impressed by the outsider scoring higher than some club members.

She set the gun down and fast-walked back over to Caleb, slightly embarrassed. “Did you see me? Wasn’t that crazy?” She jumped up and down, holding his hands. Her hands slightly shaking from the adrenaline and reaction from the recoil.

The two and Gideon made their way out of the shooting range into the common area so they could talk easier.

“That was insane! Are you sure that was your first time?” Gideon asked, giving her a high-five. “I could never outshoot this hotshot. And you did it in one night!”

She shook her head. “Toys and air rifles…but never a handgun like that. Are my fingers supposed to hurt a little?” She rubbed her hands a bit before Caleb took over and massaged it for her.

“Yeah, it would have been worse if you didn’t hold it properly. You did amazing, Pipsqueak. You really are on your way to being the world’s best Hunter, huh?” He smiled at her, proudly.

He thought he’d be more upset about doing worse than her, he knows he has a bit of an issue where he always wanted to be better than her so he could protect her. But at that moment, he was surprised and happy to see her so excited. It also put him in a better headspace knowing that if she really had to, she could protect herself.

They had to wait until the rest of the contestants finished shooting to figure out the results of the winners, and once they did, it was no surprise that the two of them made it on the prize winning chart. They were able to claim their free date and the apology gift for Gideon.

#lads caleb #love and deepspace #lads caleb fic #lads caleb smut #caleb smut #lads fic #eventual smut #caleb angst #caleb fluff #caleb x you #caleb x mc #lnds caleb #caleb fic #caleb love and deepspace

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avonne-writes · 1 year ago

Text

High School AU - Timeline

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Year 9 Of High School

The boys meet on their first day of high school in Milwaukee

Gale's growing out his hair to rebel against his dad

Bucky's eager to find new friends because Brady is the only one he knows

They're seated next to each other in one of their classes and become friends

They both think the other is cute and develop crushes on each other quickly

Bucky tells Brady and his mom everything about his crush

Gale doesn’t dare believe that Bucky likes him, he thinks they're just friends

Daydreams

But the way things develop during Christmas and New Year's Eve get his hopes up

Bucky makes a resolution to ask him out

They go on their first date in January

You don’t need wings to fly (drabble about their third date)

dive for dreams - chapter 1

Happiness, you’re a cat - part 1

Their relationship develops, but Gale keeps his family issues a secret, sometimes even lying

They fight about it and break up

But, upon his mom's (Georgia's) encouragement, Bucky approaches Gale again and they make up. Gale tells Bucky about his parents

Gale sleeps over at the Egans' place for the first time

Early relationship headcanons

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Year 10 Of High School

Someone catches them kissing in September (drabble - Truth or dare) and spreads the rumour around school

Since Bucky already wanted to come out anyway, he’s not worried or anything, and convinces Gale that it's fine

Bucky kisses Gale in the middle of the hallway

Bryan ("RAF prick" in the show) and his friends try to bully both of them but mostly Gale since he’s not on any popular sports team

Bucky and Curt track them down and get into a fistfight

Bucky gets suspended for a few days

dive for dreams - chapter 2

Gale gets mad at Bucky for drawing attention to them, but the bullying stops not too long after that fight

The boys get braver with the PDA over the course of the year

They also start exploring sexual intimacy gradually - Hands-on Biology

Nsfw headcanons

Self-care

Around May or so, Georgia does a motorcycle course and meets Neil (Harding)

Bucky and Gale have their first time at the end of May/beginning of June

dive for dreams - chapter 3

They keep exploring new things about intimacy during the summer, taking advantage of having the house to themselves a bit more often because Georgia goes out with Neil

morning after drabble

Georgia introduces Neil to the boys. It takes some time but they warm up to him eventually

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Year 11 Of High School

The school year starts really well, it's a very happy period for them. Gale stays over every Saturday night, sometimes other nights too.

Gale has a platonic crush on a teacher

Lunch Break

Sweet Tooth

The first time Gale mentions he doesn’t want to have kids - You melt my heart

Gale spends Christmas Day and Boxing Day with Bucky and his family, including extended family

Words of Wisdom

Towards the end of spring, Gale’s dad relapses again and ends up in alcohol rehab. It really messes with Gale's emotions.

Gale starts going to the school psychologist, but his mental health gets worse. He develops the habit of going out alone in the evening and spends a lot of time in random parks, public libraries and the pool, when he's not with Bucky.

dive for dreams - chapter 4

Gale's dad comes out of rehab and promises to stay sober. The summer goes relatively well, Gale feels momentarily better

Gale bonds with Neil and asks him to teach him how to ride a motorbike

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Year 12 Of High School

Around October, Gale’s dad relapses again and physically abuses Gale

Broken Things (Gale almost commits suicide)

Bucky tries to help him cover up his bruises with his mom's makeup - drabble by @swifty-fox

Georgia and Neil talk to Gale, then also to his mom and get everyone to agree to Gale moving in with Bucky and Georgia

Gale has an emotional moment with his mom when they move his things

Georgia figures out a way to get Gale a therapist outside of school

Silence (Bucky and Gale talk about death)

Untitled angsty drabble

Gale and Bucky get into arguments sometimes because Gale needs more space due to his vulnerable situation, but Bucky's triggered fear of abandonment wants to keep him close at all times. The fact that high school is coming to an end soon exacerbates it.

Gale and Georgia have an argument

dive for dreams - chapter 5

Gale's 18th birthday (drabble)

Gale starts getting better. He gets his motorcycle driver's license in secret, conspiring with Neil. He also starts working part-time to save up.

He offers Georgia to pay for his own food but he ends up with another long conversation where Georgia tries to make him understand that she does this for him out of love and doesn’t want him to feel like he owes her.

Conversely, Bucky starts getting worse as the end of the school year approaches. He’s scared that he’s going to lose Gale because they will be going to college. He gets really clingy and irrational.

Leaving

What touches linger by @hogans-heroes

Mid-spring, Gale borrows a bike from Neil and takes Bucky on a surprise date. They end up sitting in the grass somewhere and have a serious talk about the future. Gale tells Bucky that he needs to do something about his attachment issues. Bucky agrees, feeling bad, but reassured about their college plans.

Pre-prom drabble

They go to prom together:

Prom night drabble

They spend the summer hanging out with their friends

They get into different colleges but in the same city.

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First Year of College

Gale cuts his hair. To him, it's not just a sign of change but a symbol of his freedom from his father's dark shadow

He and Bucky move in together into a small apartment

Gale switches to calling Bucky John because it carries more emotion and connection to him

Although they’ve been living together since the previous fall, this is different, and only now do they learn a lot of things about each other. Like how bad Gale is at decoration, what triggers him and what bothers Bucky

There’s a lot of friction between them during their first semester, and they get close to breaking up, but eventually, they start communicating the right way and address their biggest problems

Basically, their relationship needs to shift into a mature adult relationship. It takes some time but they succeed (see - college transition headcanons + sexual issues headcanons)

dive for dreams - chapter 6

Gale blossoms at university

He and Bucky enter a steady and happy phase in their lives.

Gale wearing Bucky's soccer jersey

Later Life

Bucky faces the source of his fear of abandonment - his father. He goes through a lot of personal development (some headcanons + another post)

Happiness, you’re a cat - part 2 (when they’re 21)

Bucky asks Gale to marry him after their 3rd year of college - my world, my true

They get married about a year later. (wedding headcanons)

Honeymoon headcanons

They move to the Boston area.

Gale studies Physics and does part of his doctorate course abroad. He and Bucky call almost every day, but Bucky still misses him a lot. (some headcanons about this, + more headcanons)

Later, Bucky claims that their reunion at the end of the programme was almost as happy as their wedding day.

Gale dedicates his PhD thesis to Bucky.

Georgia and Neil get married and she takes his name.

Headcanons about the boys' jobs after university

Birthday headcanons

Anniversary headcanons

When they're 30, Gale has something of a mid-life crisis because Bucky realizes that having kids is more important to him than he originally thought.

During the above situation, their relationship gets really tense and strained, and they fight a lot. Gale antagonizes Bucky. (argument headcanons, more headcanons about their fight)

However, they do figure it out eventually, and they build a happy future together. (Abby, Matty. More posts about their family under the tag #hs au: kids)

Gale's NASA ID situation

A few thoughts about their last moments together. Update: detailed headcanons about the end of their journey.

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A/N:

Thank you if you got this far! 🩷 This timeline post will be continuously updated as new stories and drabbles are posted. It will be linked in my masterpost.

TLDR - Chronological Reading Order:

Daydreams

You don’t need wings to fly

dive for dreams - chapter 1

Happiness, you’re a cat - part 1

First sleepover

Truth or dare

dive for dreams - chapter 2

Hands-on Biology

Self-care

dive for dreams - chapter 3

morning after drabble

Lunch Break

Sweet Tooth

You melt my heart

Words of Wisdom

dive for dreams - chapter 4

Broken Things

swifty-fox's drabble

Silence

Untitled angsty drabble

dive for dreams - chapter 5

Gale's 18th birthday drabble

Leaving

What touches linger by hogans-heroes

pre-prom drabble

prom night drabble

dive for dreams - chapter 6

Short college morning drabble

Happiness, you’re a cat - part 2

my world, my true

Thank you so much for reading this AU! You can find more headcanons on my blog under #hs au 😊

Moodboards and gifs 💕

Gifset by @carnevol

Moodboard by @hogans-heroes

Moodboard by @bucking-mustangs-with-wings

Fanart by @swifty-fox

#mota #buck x bucky #clegan #gale cleven #john egan #hs au #hs au timeline #will be updated after each new fic #🥰🥰#i hope this is helpful!#this took me such a long time 🙈

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yourdarkcherry · 10 months ago

Text

Seducing Rafe Cameron || Ch. 3

Summary: You were blessed with an easy life since you were born, but it’s all threatened when your dad’s business fails and you find yourself with no prospects and no education and so your only solution is to marry rich. Who’s a better candidate than the older brother of your ex-best friend from high school? So you do everything in your power to seduce Rafe Cameron, not knowing he’s the root to all your problems.

Warnings: toxic relationship, spoiled reader, sexist elements, dark content, blackcoded reader, pregnancy, physical and emotional abuse, manipulation, gaslighting, death threats, eventual smut.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

You swear that this could’ve been the worst day of your entire life. From the start to the current moment it was all a series of unfortunate events. For some reason, you couldn’t wake up at the sound of your alarm, and you only awakened at the sound of your mother shaking you awake and asking you why you’re not attending your pilates class.

With wide eyes, you stare at your clock and find it’s displaying a 10:43 AM to you. Jumping from your bed, you rush to your bathroom with a continuous string of swear words at not attending your pilates class, or even finishing any of the errands you had to run.

The clock on your car shows 11:52 AM when you finally leave your house. You don’t even wait for the car to properly heat up and instantly begin your trip to the location Rafe sent you this morning, right after his good morning text that went ignored due to you oversleeping.

Then in your frenzy to reach the restaurant on time, you rear end someone. It was the last thing you wanted, and even when you exit the car you prepare yourself for the fight the other person would initiate. It was completely your fault, you were texting Rafe letting him know you will be late.

You inspect your car first, seeing the bumper threatening to fall any minute now, then you turn your head to the side and find the van you rear-ended was pretty damaged.

“Lady! Can’t you see where you were going?!” an irritated man comments, and it gets nearer to the back of the car to inspect the accident.

You try to put on your best sorry look, and then look at the person only to take a second look. You didn’t have to look at him three times to know who he was. With his long locks, and tan skin, then to the light blue van.

This is the man Sarah was dating, and currently dating according to what Wheezie told you last night. He recognizes you too, for some reason as he also does a look back and his eyes widen for a little.

“I’m sorry, I admit my fault I was pretty preoccupied.” you say, then move back to your car to take your phone, but when you return you’re shocked to find Sarah Cameron in the flesh, standing next to him.

You stop briefly in your tracks, taken back at seeing her for the first time in years. She looks exactly as you last seen her, you blame your complex emotions at seeing her on the fact that she looks like she’s always did, and not a single thing changed about her.

“(Y/N).” she calls your name first, you clear your throat and walk towards her and her boyfriend.

“Hello, Sarah.” you greet, and then take your gaze off her brown eyes and stare at the man, “my insurance can cover you, I’ll call them right now and let them know.” he nods, and you take a glance at Sarah one last time as you feel her stare on your face.

You turn around and dial in the insurance company number, although your phone glitches before you can call and then it vibrates as Rafe's name flashes in your phone. You don’t need to be a genius to know you weren’t late but you were very much unclassy late.

The kind of lateness that cannot be blamed on women’s vanity.

You answer immediately, and after your first “Hello?” he asks. “Is everything okay?”

“Uhm…” you cover your forehead as you look back on the accident. “Not really, rear-ended someone.” You answer honestly.

Rafe’s voice tightens with concern. “Where exactly are you right now? I need to know.”

You hesitate, glancing around at the scene. “I’m... just near the diner on Maple Street. But really, Rafe, you don’t have to come.”

“I’m coming over,” he insists. “I want to make sure you’re okay. Don’t move from where you are.”

You wince, knowing that Rafe’s presence would complicate things even more. Sarah Cameron, his disowned sister, is right here with her boyfriend. The last thing you want is for Rafe and Sarah to run into each other. “Look, I appreciate your concern, but—”

“No arguments. I’m on my way,” Rafe says firmly. “Just stay put and don’t try to handle this all on your own.”

Panic starts to set in. You know it’s a terrible idea to let Rafe come, but you also understand how stubborn he can be. “Okay, fine. But it’s really not a big deal, and I’m dealing with the insurance already. Maybe just... wait a bit before coming?”

“Just give me a few minutes, alright?” Rafe’s tone is insistent. “I’ll be there soon.”

As you hang up, you feel the weight of the situation press down on you. You glance over at Sarah and her boyfriend, trying to avoid making eye contact. This whole thing is turning into a mess you never anticipated

You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the silver lining of the situation. If Rafe shows up and helps you sort this out, he might feel useful, which you know is something he appreciates. Men often enjoy feeling like they’re making a difference, and this could be a way to turn a frustrating situation into a moment where he feels valued.

The call with the insurance company is short, you let them know of what happened abd they let you know of what to do.

When you walk closer to the van, you see Sarah lingering awkwardly close to you as she watches you take pictures of the accident. You pretend you don’t notice her while you text the pictures to the insurance company.

“So…how have you been?” she asks first.

You clear your throat, turning around to face her. “I’ve been good.” The awkward silence makes the heat of this summer feel even worse as your cheeks burn. “You?”

“I’ve been doing good too. I remember Wheezie told me that you uhm… you started this two year college in Charlotte town.” She says, shifting her weight from one leg to another.

“Yeah…the program was called hospitality excellence and etiquette.” you answer.

Her eyes widen slightly, then she tightens her lips into a tight line before she comments, ��thought it was an english literature and writing program, you always did like that a whole a lot,” she then clears her throat. “You talked about it a lot back in high school.”

You nod, feeling a pang of discomfort. “Yeah, I changed direction. It seemed like a better fit.”

Sarah clears her throat, her gaze flickering between you and her boyfriend. “Well, it’s good you found something that works for you.”

Just then, your phone buzzes with a text from the insurance company: “We’ve reviewed the details and confirmed you are at fault. Please provide the contact information for the other party so we can proceed with covering the damage.”

Before you can respond, Rafe’s car pulls up, and you feel a rush of mixed emotions. You glance at Sarah, who seems equally tense, and then back at Rafe as he steps out of the car.

You manage a strained smile as you finish texting the insurance company. The weight of the awkward situation settles heavily on your shoulders. As Rafe approaches, you feel a knot tighten in your stomach.

Rafe’s eyes meet yours, and you see his expression shift from concern to confusion as he takes in the scene. Without needing any introductions, he asks, “Is everything okay?”

You try to sound calm. “Yeah. Just trying to get the insurance stuff sorted out.”

Rafe’s gaze flickers to Sarah, his tension palpable. He doesn’t need any introductions to understand the situation. Sarah’s discomfort is visible as she shifts her weight, unable to meet Rafe’s eyes. Then, Rafe steps close to inspect the accident.

When Sarah’s boyfriend comes closer, he asks, “you talk to insurance yet?”

Before you could answer him, Rafe shields your vision of the man. “Give me your phone. I need to talk to insurance,”

“Oh, yeah sure.” you hand him your phone. “But why?”

He steps so close to you, allowing you to take whiffs of his spicy cologne and the sight of his pretty blue eyes hitting the sun so perfectly. Then his voice drops lower, “I just don’t trust that pogue, maybe he saw your car and decided to break check.”

You blink at him in cluelessness, “why would he do that?”

“To take your money, of course.” Rafe answers. “But don’t worry, I’ll let insurance know how to handle it.”

He takes your phone from your palm, your fingers brushing ever so slightly but still sending shocks throughout the rest of your body nonetheless.

He starts speaking to the insurance company, his voice low and authoritative. You watch him handle the situation with a blend of relief and unease, his presence both a comfort and a complication.

Meanwhile, Sarah stands awkwardly, her gaze flicking between Rafe and the damaged van. Her boyfriend, clearly frustrated, starts to mutter under his breath, but he doesn’t press the issue further with Rafe present.

You can’t ignore the tension in the air. The silence stretches as Rafe talks on the phone, his tone firm and decisive. You can’t help but notice how effortlessly he takes control of the situation, and despite everything, you find yourself grateful for his intervention.

When Rafe finally hangs up, he hands your phone back to you, his expression serious. “I’ve given them the details and made sure they know about the potential for fraud. They’ll be in touch with you soon.”

“Fraud?!” Sarah and her boyfriend repeat in disbelief, and exchange a shocked look before Sarah steps closer to Rafe. Her hands on her hips as she glares at him, “why the fuck would there be a possibility for fraud?”

Rafe meets her gaze evenly, not backing down. “Because it’s not uncommon for people to stage accidents to make a quick buck. It’s better to be cautious and make sure everything is above board.”

Sarah’s eyes narrow, her face flushed with anger. “You don’t know that. You’re just making assumptions.”

Rafe’s tone remains calm, though there’s a hint of annoyance. “I’m just protecting (Y/N). It’s my job to ensure everything is handled properly.”

Sarah’s boyfriend, still simmering, steps forward. “Look, we don’t need any more complications. This is already a mess.”

Sarah only looks between you and Rafe with that look she used to get when she’s connecting dots in her head. You feel like you should avoid her gaze, and cower in shame should she find out. Except, you don’t.

You have nothing to feel shameful about. She did sleep with your boyfriend in high school and betrayed your trust and broke your friendship just like that. So you think she can handle the little discomfort she will get at finding out that you and her brother are dating.

Sarah looks detached, her gaze distant as she processes Rafe’s comments. She pulls her boyfriend away slightly, her voice tight with control. “Fine, we’ll discuss it. Just… (Y/N),” she calls and you look at her as she continues, “give me your number so I can contact you about it.”

Rafe shakes his head, his expression firm, “she’s not giving her number to you. I’ll give mine to your boyfriend instead. He can handle the details and get in touch with me if needed.”

Sarah’s frustration is palpable, but she holds back her retort. She gives a curt nod, accepting the compromise.

Her boyfriend takes out his phone, and Rafe quickly gives him his number. As they exchange contact information, Sarah’s eyes flicker with a mix of emotions—anger, resignation, and something else you can’t quite place.

When Sarah and her boyfriend walk to their van. Rafe looks at your car, “you cannot drive this till it gets fixed.”

“Yeah, it’s another accident asking to happen.” you answer sadly.

“It’s okay though, I’ll take it to the shop and get it fixed for you.” He said, a hand on your shoulder, his touch warm and grounding.

“Thank you, Rafe.” you tell him. A switch in your head flips, then you add, “you’re so helpful, I wouldn’t have known what to do without you.”

His eyes slightly widen, taken off-guard at your words and attitude but he doesn’t seem like he hates it. Trying to pretend that you don’t notice the effects your words had on him, you stare at the clock on your phone.

“Your lunch break ends at 1 right?” you ask, and he hums as he directs you to his car that’s parked haphazardly. You climb up to the passenger seat of his car, then buckle in your seatbelt. When he enters his car, you say, “I feel bad for wasting your lunch break.”

“You didn’t, I’m just glad to see you.” he says, and you resist the smile that’s forming on your face but you fail.

He doesn’t see you as he starts his car once again. “I have a little more than twenty five minutes left of my lunch break, so I’ll just drive you home.”

The ride back is quiet, a comfortable silence settling between the two of you. You can feel the tension from earlier slowly dissipating, replaced by a sense of calm. Rafe’s presence, while sometimes intense, has a way of grounding you. You sneak a glance at him, noticing the way his hands grip the steering wheel, his knuckles white.

Seeing Sarah must’ve affected him just as deeply as you—if not more.

You decide that not speaking about it is the best option. If he didn’t bring it up first, then you won’t utter a single word.

The memory of seeing his disowned sister and seeing your ex-best friend would be buried for now.

Thankfully, your house wasn’t that far from the accident place. As you approach your place, Rafe speaks up, breaking the silence. “You sure you’re okay? That was a lot back there.”

You nod, your eyes meeting his briefly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… a bit shaken up, I guess.”

Rafe pulls up into the driveway of your house and shifts the car into park. “Well, if you need anything, you know you can call me, right?”

His offer is genuine, but there’s something in the way he says it that makes your heart skip a beat. You nod again, feeling the weight of the day starting to lift. “Thanks, Rafe. I really appreciate it.”

He turns to face you fully, his expression softening, “you don’t have to thank me. I’m happy to help.”

For a moment, you both just sit there, the air between you charged with something unspoken. Then, before the moment can stretch too long, you reach for the door handle, “I should probably get inside.”

Rafe nods, he says as he’s watching you hold your purse, “I’ll check in with you later, okay? Make sure everything’s sorted out.”

You step out of the car, feeling a strange mix of emotions. Relief, gratitude, maybe even a bit of something more. Before you could close the door, you linger slightly as he watches you.

He was so helpful and reliable today, and you don’t really want to let him go just yet. You want to talk with him more, be around him. You try to pretend that it’s all for the plan, and not because of a deep want within you.

“Uhm…why…why don’t you come inside?” you ask.

His eyebrows almost raise up to his hairline comically. You look at the black leather of his seats, shyness taking over you. “I could make you a sandwich, I feel bad just for sending you to work like that.”

He opens his mouth to speak, and you fear that it’s a rejection, so you hastily interrupt him as you look at your fingers. “Something quick, I’ll take like one minute making it for you, and your break finishes in exactly twenty minutes.”

“Sure…I’d like that.” he says genuinely, and you finally look up to him to see him smiling.

He kills the engine, and then gets out of his car. You walk side by side to the door, your heart beats faster with each step.

When you reach the door, your fingers fumble slightly with the keys, but you manage to unlock it, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

“Make yourself at home,” you say, trying to sound casual, though your voice betrays a hint of nervousness.

You walk further inside to the kitchen, feeling his presence following you. As you enter the kitchen, you set your purse on the counter. Then you start gathering the things you need for a simple sandwich from the fridge, and you bring it all to the island.

He sits on one of the chairs facing the island. He looks around a little, taking in the clean kitchen then he asks, “is your mom home?”

You glance at him as you’re taking bread slices out. “Probably not, she might’ve gone out for the afternoon,” you reply, your voice a little quieter than usual as you focus on getting the sandwich together. You can feel Rafe's eyes on you, and it makes your movements slightly more deliberate, more aware of every little thing you’re doing.

He hums in response, leaning back in his chair, still watching you. “How was your pilates class?”

“Oh…I didn’t go, woke up late actually.” you answer honestly. Focusing on spreading the mayo on the other slice of bread.

Rafe’s gaze sharpens slightly as he listens to your response, though he maintains a relaxed posture in the chair. “Woke up late, huh?” His tone is casual, and you don’t think much of it as you focus on the sandwich. His eyes are still fixed on you, watching your every movement with a kind of intensity that you chalk up to concern.

“Yeah, just one of those mornings,” you say lightly, now spreading mustard on the bread. You glance up at him, catching his steady gaze, but it doesn’t faze you—if anything, it makes you feel like he’s paying attention, like he cares.

He hums again, the sound thoughtful. “You know,” he says slowly, “I could help with that. Making sure you don’t miss anything important.”

You look up at him, tilting your head in curiosity. “What do you mean?”

He leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the island, his eyes still locked on yours. “Just thinking… I could check in on you in the mornings. Make sure you’re up and ready. We wouldn’t want you missing out on anything.”

You smile at the offer, feeling a warmth in your chest. “That’s really sweet of you, Rafe, but I think I just need a better alarm clock.”

Rafe’s lips curl into a small smile, and you take it as a sign that he’s just being his usual considerate self. “Yeah, maybe,” he says, and you hear a touch of amusement in his voice. “But, you know, I’m just a call away. For anything.”

“Thanks, Rafe,” you say, genuinely appreciating his concern. It feels good to have someone who’s so attentive, who seems to genuinely care about the little things in your life.

He watches you for a moment longer, and you assume he’s just making sure you’re okay after the stressful day you’ve had. When he finally leans back in his chair, he says, “No problem. Just looking out for you.”

You finish making the sandwich and place it on a plate, sliding it across the island to him.

“There you go,” you say, stepping back and leaning against the counter, trying to act nonchalant.

“Thanks,” he says, picking up the sandwich and taking a bite. While he’s eating you quickly take a clean cup from one of the upper cupboards, open the fridge and pour in orange juice in it. Then you slide it to him again.

You can feel him watching you as you move around the kitchen. You open the drawer and take a new ziploc bag, then head to the pantry and place in four cookies you made. You gasp as you recalled you didn’t even give him water. He watches you with curiosity as you walk once again to the drinks fridge and take a cold water bottle.

He’s halfway finished with his sandwich by the time you slide along the cookies and the water bottle to him.

“Uhm, I made those cookies…a new recipe so I’m proud of them.” You tell him while grinning as you sit next to him.

Rafe looks down at the cookies, then back at you, a smirk playing on his lips. “You didn’t have to do all this, you know,” he says, though there’s a hint of something warm in his voice, like he’s pleased by the attention.

You shrug, your grin widening. “I wanted to. You’ve been so helpful today, it’s the least I can do.”

He takes the bag of cookies, inspecting them for a moment before glancing back at you. “I’ll have to give these a try later. If they’re as good as this sandwich, I’m sure they’ll be great.” His tone is easygoing, but there’s a spark in his eyes, like he’s enjoying this little routine you’ve set up for him.

You beam at the compliment, feeling a flutter in your chest. “I hope you like them.”

“I think it’s safe to assume there will be a make-up date.” He says casually. You gulp nervously as you look away shyly. “Of course.”

“Tomorrow.” he says.

“I can’t, I have my girls' day plans with Wheezie, remember?” you say.

“Your car will be at the shop, who’s going to be taking you?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Probably call an Uber—”

“No Uber.” His tone is final and assertive, but it catches you off-guard as you watch him quietly. So he adds, “if you need someone to drive you anywhere, just call me.”

You fight the urge to refuse. It would be too much of a hassle, but your mother told you many times that men love feeling helpful. So you smile and nod, “sure.” you answer softly.

“Great. I’ll drive you and Wheezie tomorrow then.” He affirms while standing up, then washes his hands in the sink. He grabs the water bottle and the cookie bag and then heads to the front door. You follow him to his car.

Even though he barely has ten minutes to drive to work, he still cranks his window down as you approach it. His smile is soft. “Thanks for the food. I’ll update you later about your car.”

You nod at his words, smiling back too. “Drive safe.”

Rafe’s smile deepens as he hears your soft reply. “I will,” he says, his tone reassuring. He watches you for a moment longer, his gaze lingering on your face like he’s memorizing every detail.

You step back as he starts the car, waving at him as he pulls out of the driveway. There’s a strange warmth in your chest as you watch his car disappear down the street, a mix of emotions you’re not entirely sure how to process. He was so insistent, so protective—it’s nice to have someone who cares that much, you tell yourself.

Out of all your candidates, you know he’s the best. He’s always been responsible.

You don’t want to believe your mother’s theories, but she’s always been right. She did tell you that Kelce is a youngest child, so he’s pretty spoiled and probably hasn’t worked a day in his life and simply would deflect all his responsibilities. Topper is an only child, he’s selfish and stubborn and most likely wouldn’t even understand why you need help in the first place.

Meanwhile Rafe, he’s the oldest brother between his siblings. He’s always knew how to be responsible—even if Ward at first claimed otherwise. You knew that Rafe is a proactive person, he wouldn’t stand still if he knew you had a problem. He would help you if he could, and if he couldn’t, he would try everything to still help.

He's the best candidate, and you would be damned if you just let go of him.

#seducing rafe cameron #rafe cameron x y/n #obx rafe x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #obx rafe cameron x reader

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yeaimsafiya · 1 year ago

Text

CHAPTER ONE back from rehab

SYNOPSIS the beginning of a teenage girl named y/n who is fresh out of rehab but doesn't intend to stay clean.

FROM THE WRITER AHH IM SORRY IM LATE GUYS!! This is the first chapter I'm ever writing, I took some inspo from episode 1 but I'm going to have to cut each episode into fourths because I really don't want to spend a whole week trying to finish a whole episode and school work. But I hope you guys really enjoy this chapter as much as I did - Love you guys, Sapiyah <3

WARNINGS Lots of unnecessary writing, female! reader, mentions of drugs and drinking, strong sexual content, nudity, violence, adult content, adult language, scenes might be uncomfortable for some, some scenes might include mentions of mental illness'

SERIES EUPHORIA

CHARACTERS INCLUDED members of the bakusquad & dekusquad, big three(?), some characters of class 1A

NOTES MDNI! Ageless blogs will be blocked or removed.

Readers discretion is advised

Suddenly, the whole world goes dark and nothing else matters except the person standing in front of you.

You were once happy. Content.

Sloshing and swimming around your own private, primordial pool; Then one day, for reasons beyond your control, you were continuously and repeatedly crushed...

Over..and over.. again by the cervix of your mother, M/n.

You put up a good fight, but eventually lost, for the first time, but not the last.

You were born 3 days after 9/11, your mother and father spent two days in the hospital, holding you under the soft glow of the television, watching those towers fall over and over again, until the feeling of grief gave away to numbness.

And then, without warning, a middle-class childhood in the American suburbs.

You were sitting at the dinner table with your mother, M/n, and Father, F/n. But it appeared something else had gotten your attention, a set of numerous lights above the dinner table, in which you wanted to count.

"Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen.."

" What are you looking at y/n?"

"..."

"What are you doing? ..Y-y/n look at me."

"One, two, three, .."

"What are you doing Y/n?"

*cries*

"Id say she's suffering from obsessive compulsive disorder..."

Its not like you were physically abused..

"...attention deficit disorder..."

..Or had some type of clean water storage..

"..general anxiety disorder.."

..Or was molested by a family member.

"..and possibly bipolar disorder. But she's a little bit too young to tell."

So, explain this shit to me.

"Honey, it's just the way your brain was hardwired; Plenty of great, intelligent, funny, interesting and creative people have struggled with the same things you struggle with."

"Like who?"

"Vincent Van Gogh, Sylvia Plath, and even Brittney Spears, your favorite!"

You haven't remembered much from the ages of eight to twelve. Just that the world moved fast, and your mind moved slow.

"Does anyone have an idea of what a perception might be?"

And every now and then, if you focused on the way you breathed...

You'd die.

"Slow down, just breathe"

Until every second of the day, you'd find yourself trying to outrun your anxiety.

"What's wrong Y/n?"

..And quite frankly..

"I'm just fucking exhausted"

Coming down to the kitchen, you could hear the small talk between your mother and younger sister, S/N.

"You said the doctor was in our network. How can he suddenly be out of network?"

"I can't afford it."

"Did you see that video of the girl who got acid thrown at her face?"

"What? No.."

"It's pretty fucked up.."

"Mom do you know where the tampons are?"

"In my bathroom, right under the sink."

And at one point, you'd make a choice of who you are and what you want.

"Alright Gia, let's go"

"Why do the co-payments cost $300?"

"Y/n did you eat breakfast?"

".."

"What's with the glasses?"

"What glasses?"

You just happened to show up one day, without a map or a compass..

"Attention students, we need to lockdown."

..Or to be honest, anyone capable of giving on iota of good fucking advice.

And I know it all seems sad but guess what? You did not build this system up, nor fuck it up yourself.

But then it happens. That moment where your breath starts to slow. And every time you breathe, you breathe out all the oxygen you have.

Then everything stops: Your heart, your lungs, then finally, your brain. And everything you feel, you wish, and want to forget, it all just sinks.

And then suddenly... you give it air again, give it life again.

You remember the first time it happened, where you were so scared you wanted to call 911. Go to the hospital and be kept alive by machines and apple juice. But you didn't want to look like an idiot, and you didn't want to fuck up everyone else's night.

And now overtime, that's all you've wanted.. those two seconds of nothingness.

You spent a good portion of summer before junior year in rehab. God granted you the serenity to accept things you cannot change, the courage to change the things you can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

"Y/N," your sister yelled from afar, greeting you after your long leave. You smiled, and whilst running up to her, tried to continue the conversation with your younger sibling.

"Hey, Come here!"

"How are you?"

"Good, I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"Look at you, are you growing?"

"No."

Looking over, you see your mother standing by your family car.

"Hey," you yelled out to her, only to receive a small smile from her.

And with that. you knew it was your time to go.

"I'm very happy for you Y/n. You're about to start a brand-new chapter," Your mother says while driving you and your sister to school. You looked at her with a smile, then turned your attention back to the car window.

You had no intentions of staying clean. And yet, Jirou just moved into town.

"There's some new girl in town that I think you'll be friends with," Shoto said, with you standing beside him in his store.

"Who?"

"Shit, I don't know. She came in looking all punk rock and shit; So I'm thinking to myself, like, 'look like somebody Y/n would be friends with'."

Which was sort of a dead-on observation for Shoto, who's not normally revolving in the same direction as planet earth.

"So how long have you been back?" He asked.

"About five days."

"And how are you feeling?"

"I mean, ever since I gave my life over to my lord and savior Jesus Christ, things have been, like, really good."

"Word? That's what's up," You chuckled at his snarky remark, giving him a small smile.

"I'm fucking with you," you said whilst laughing, "It was a joke."

"Shit, hey, I don't judge," he defended, hands raising to just above his chest.

"But for real, is Deku in the back?"

"Are you serious?" Shoto questioned, seeming very disappointed in you.

"What, you think cause' I went to rehab I stayed clean?"

"I mean, ain't that the point?" he asks.

"Yeah, well, the world is coming to an end, and I haven't even graduated high school yet."

You gave Shoto one more smile before going to Deku, whilst Shoto stared at you the entire way there; There was a hint of sadness in his eyes, but since you were too busy looking for Deku, you didn't see.

You opened one of the doors of the refrigerators, leading you right to him with a bowl of fruit loops,"I thought your ass was dead," he said one he saw your appearance.

"And I thought you had Asperger's till I realized your just a prick," you barked back.

"This a fickle industry, y'all come and go. I'm just trying to stack my cash, pay off our mortgage," he said while pulling out a bunch of plastic bags out of a microwave.

"So what the fuck do you want?" You gave him a knowing look before he handed you needed.

"You sure you don't want to try something new?" He asks you.

"Like what?"

"2C-T-2, 2C-T-7, and 5-MeO-DIPT."

"I'm sorry I have no fucking idea of what you just said."

"It doesn't matter," he stated, "but this shit, is fucking lit."

"What is it?"

"N-diisopropyl-5-methoxytryptamine. It's a fast-acting psychedelic."

Got some similarities to LSD, but with, like, key differences. Not as visual as shit, but definitely a sense distorter.

"What's wrong?" That same dark purple hair girl questioned.

"I'm just so happy," you responded back.

"I don't know, this shits been going off in Tampa, and mad people like to fuck with this," Deku continued on with his descriptions with the drug.

"Okay. Yeah, why not."

"That'll be 120."

"Oh uh, Shoto said he'd spot me."

"Shoto doesn't spot nobody."

"Yeah, well, it's a post-rehab discount, so you should ask him."

"I will go ask him, cause' I know your full of shit."

Those were the last words he said before you walked out. Those were the last words you heard before you saw the same two boys in freshman year.

Bakugo and Kirishima.

TAGLIST: (send an ask or reply to add or remove) @urinejaeger, @saturxnn, @lv9su, @minnipe, @flamgosstuff, @lilrockzstar, @actfsgxcv, @lovebuggyboo, @russochild19, @iits-lexie, @mendez5657, @animatronicrat, @thirstygorl, @scrittynotfound, @pleaseleavemebelol, @thymebread, @cocojellie, @vxnanaaa-blog, @tn-johnson, @knotatwink, @hpttstears, @blackcatluna, @queennb-123, @nndntahg

All work is subject to copyright by © yeaimsapiyah as of 2024.

Do not steal, use or reupload my work without given permission or my consent. If so, you will either be blocked, removed, or reported.

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kerokerokook · 2 years ago

Text

the rebound girl: chapter two

pairing: nerd pro-gamer jeongguk x reader

word count: 25.5k wtf

warnings for this chapter: oc just goes for it, jeongguk is hot as usual, lots of kissing, finally some smut, first time, virgin jk!, subby jk! with dom! reader at first but that changes, oral (m. receiving), oral fixation, fingering, jeongguk does the lower stomach trick from tiktok (iykyk), he's a little shit but it's okay.

other tags: lots of overthinking, oc goes back and forth a whole bunch (she's confused and hurt ok), jeongguk is a giant MF green flag (obvi), vmin and 2yeon being chaotically gay ofc, some brief physics mentioned, a bit of angst, oc has been hurt in her teen years.

a/n: sorry this took 9 million years but ya girl just got into her masters program!! hopefully, i can update this once/twice a month? maybe even more but, that's the plan!

enjoy :)

<3 mal

original post

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The first day of school hit you in the face like a speeding fourteen-wheel truck.

Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration because you’ve known the date since the beginning of summer break but time flew by so quickly that you couldn’t believe September was starting and another school year was too.

Soon, you’ll graduate and get a job and move on from all of the shit you’ve gone through to become a whole adult. It’s terrifying yet exciting all at once.

Fortunately, you picked out your outfit last night: baggy blue jeans, a white cropped tank top and an oversized black corduroy button up shirt. It’s simple and comfy which you always prefer for school outfits. Simple gold jewelry sits on your neck and in your ears and you keep your hair back with a clear claw clip. You keep your makeup light, being that you’ll be back home in a few hours where you’ll just slip back into your pajamas and do nothing for the rest of the day.

While packing your things, you make sure to tuck Jeongguk’s t-shirt that you’ve washed and his umbrella into your backpack, then give Snowball her last few pets for the day while checking her food and water bowl.

“I’ll be back in a few hours cutie,” you coo, scratching underneath her chin. Her head tilts up, a content smile on her cute face, eyes shut while pushing into your touch.

Adopting Snowball sort of just happened. You were lonely last Winter break after a guy you met in your Economic Growth Seminar had moved on and your mom was talking about how your neighbor’s cat just had a litter of kittens. Thankfully, your landlord was okay with pets and boom, there was a little fluff ball making your day better little by little. After a long day, there was nothing you liked doing more than stroking her soft fur and listening to music or throwing a movie on while she purrs right next to you. She’s a great comfort to you and your friends love her too.

Tearfully, you rip yourself away from your little baby and step outside of your comfortable apartment. The hallway is empty at this time. Your building has mostly college students and a few bachelors and bachelorettes here and there so it’s surprising that no one else is walking out at the same time as you. But that’s fine. No polite greetings necessary. You put your headphones in, play some music and begin your trek to school.

Living one subway ride away from university is a privilege. It never takes you that long to get to class and it’s easy to get back home. It’s the best thing about living here.

Plus in the springtime, the blossoms decorate the streets with little pink petals and it’s a sight to see.

On the way down the subway steps, you check your schedule once more just to be sure of your class load today. You have a 9am lecture, then an 11:30am lecture and then a discussion at 1:45 but those only start the second week of school every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you have classes from 8am-3pm which sounds like ass now that you think about it.

Fuck, were you drunk when you selected these courses?

You shake your head. Whatever, not like there’s much you can do now, right? At least you’ll be busy so less time to mess around.

Your walk down the steps continues and you shove your phone into your jean pocket as you rush over to make the train before your first class, taking out your metro-card.

After dodging some lethargic businessmen and starstruck tourists, you manage to reach the train with a few seconds to spare. There’s a towards the back so you quickly walk over and grab the handle when there’s a vibration against your ass.

Confused, you pull your phone out. It’s probably a tiktok sent to you by Jeongyeon of a cat with a funny filter on or something but the screen shows the message icon and you use FaceID to unlock your phone to see who the sender was.

It’s a text from Jeongguk.

jeon jeongguk

hey

do you want to give me the stuff outside the engineering building?

maybe around 1?

by stuff i mean my shirt and umbrella

You smile to yourself. The fact that he felt the need to explain what he meant by stuff is unbelievably adorable to you.

sure, i’ll be there :)

You almost wonder what Jeongguk’s schedule is like but you stop yourself quickly. You tried to not to think too much about him on Sunday when you got back. It was enough that his sweet smelling shirt was on your body and you still had the lingering imprint of his hug on your skin but now that you know he goes to the same school, you’ll become more interested and you can’t. Jeongguk isn’t going to be the next boy to occupy your mind.

This year is going to be different. You won’t be the rebound girl anymore, you won’t sleep with guys from your school, and you won’t give in.

After everything that went down with Wooshik, it’s just better for you to distance yourself from this stupid label of rebound girl. It’s done nothing but hurt you and worsen your relationship with the people in your department. First year you were hanging out and eating with them and now all you have are Nayeon and Jeongyeon. Not that you don’t like them but you just hate what being the rebound girl has done to your college life.

Your mother used to say your college years are your prime years to be young and stupid and learn about life.

But college is nothing special to you. The classes are harder, people are smarter, meaner, better, and all you can do is push yourself to do the best that you can. Sometimes it’s enough, sometimes it isn’t. Your friends are great and you’ve made some good memories, but so far, college isn’t that coming-of-age life lesson that your mother always talked about.

You’re not particularly upset about it. You just wished you could do more. Live your life without eyes all over you and whispers at every mistake.

As the train lets you off at your spot, you make sure to triple check your schedule for the day so you know where you’re going after your first class.

9am is your Macroeconomics lecture in the Economics building which is fine. Your professor is nice and the class seems interesting enough that you know you’ll do well. Mostly test based which won’t be a problem because economics is your thing. You’ve been studying it diligently for three years now so you can confidently say that.

But 11:30 is your worst nightmare: physics.

This is all your fault. Nayeon told you to get all of your general education requirements out of the way quickly your first and second year so that you wouldn’t have to worry about them later but you didn’t listen.

Look, science is simply not your thing. High school courses were hell on earth thanks to your asshole of a Chemistry teacher. You managed to gaslight yourself into thinking math was easy enough as long as you studied like a mad person and got those requirements out of the way but science is hell on earth for you. Your university requires one life science and two physical sciences. Life science was an easy choice: zoology. You got to learn about cute animals and watch videos about them. First semester of your first year was easy.

Then you decided to take Geology for physical science during your second semester. It sounded easy but memorizing all of those different rock formations was starting to wear you out from the inside. Somehow you managed a B. And after that, it was either meteorology, astronomy, or some form of physics since every other course required you to be enrolled in the Physical Sciences department or have some prerequisite that you didn’t want to take. None of the options sounded appealing to you so you put it off until now. Then, when the realization hit that you had only one more year after this to make up for all of those credits, you decided astronomy might be the best choice after reading some professor reviews.

Only for you to sleep through registration and wake up in a frenzy to find the class completely full.

Yeah, you almost started crying.

So physics it was and, how wonderful, the only class available was with an unlikeable teacher that has a horrible rating. Amazing.

Panic floods your system as you walk into the large lecture hall. You aim for a seat in the middle, take out your supplies, and start diligently listening. Your professor is a stout, sad, little man who is trying to improve his professor score online so thankfully, he says he’s going to be more lenient when it comes to tests but demands that homework be turned in on time otherwise points will be deducted. Fair enough. You could do that.

But then he starts going into course material.

Energy; alright.

Motion; cool.

Thermodynamics; okay.

Optics; excuse me?

Electromagnetism; sound the alarms.

This class is going to kill you. Even if it’s Physics 1 and your class is filled with mostly underclassmen, you know you won’t grasp the concepts easily with all of your other classes weighing down on your head. There’s so much to do and so little time to do it all.

“.. previous students of mine have so graciously offered tutoring hours so if any of you are confused, I highly recommend meeting up with them and going over concepts. They have taken my tests before so they know what to expect. It is the best way to ensure you do well.”

Most of the students behind you have gone to sleep or started scrolling through their phones but you have a lightbulb moment.

Perfect, okay. All you have to do is check the list of tutors online and schedule appointments with them. Shouldn’t be that bad. Another thing to be strict about.

This is just what you wanted: a tight enough schedule to keep you too busy to think about anything else.

Once class is over, you pack all of your things and check your phone once more. Jeongguk said he’d be outside the engineering building which is close to the physical sciences building. The time reads 12:50pm so you have some time to make your way outside.

So far, the first day has ended and it’s gone pretty well. You’ll go back home, create a strict study table on your Notion, rent all of your books and then relax for the rest of the day. Then the rest of this week should be smooth sailing as you get into the groove with your new professors. Nayeon and Jeongyeon are going to meet you at your place for home-cooked dinner this Friday( a little first week back tradition) which you’re excited for. You should look up some recipes and make sure Nayeon stays out of your kitchen so she won’t blow anything up. That girl is incapable of not making a disaster in the kitchen.

You sigh through your nose, studying the sights you see on campus. Various students walking in small triplets or duos. The occasional lone wolf with headphones on to block out the world. Some clubs are putting up posters or setting up tables to grab first years as they explore campus. The path that is currently running outside the STEM buildings break off into various courtyards and cafes where students of all departments come to chill or cut through to go to their other classes.

It’s about to be a great scenic walk just until you run into Wooshik and his buddies as they’re exiting a café with drinks in their hands.

Kill me now.

You pause like a deer in headlights when you make eye contact with him, stopping midway so your lips can part as your entire body goes stuff.

Now, more than anything, you really wish you were walking with someone.

“Hey,” Wooshik forces out, crossing his arms over his chest. His polo shirt is open enough to show a random cluster of dark hickeys from the middle of his throat to the beginning of his chest. Real subtle.

Before seeing that, you were thinking about apologizing but now, not so much.

“Hi,” your tone is short. You can feel eyes dance over your body, the swell of your breasts and the sliver of skin revealed between your crop top and pants from one of his creepy pals behind him and you have half a mind to kick him in the balls.

Wooshik’s eyes bounce back and he juts his face forward like he’s waiting for you to say something to him but you keep your lips perfectly sealed. If he wants an apology, he can wait until he’s dead. His other friends exchange weird looks at the lack of conversation going on between you two, probably wondering if this standoff is going to linger forever.

It makes you wonder what Wooshik told them.

Guys love having their ego fluffed. If they get rejected by a girl, they’ll tell their best friends that she was an ugly slut or they’ll flip the story to say that they rejected her to save face. The last thing they want their friends to know is that a girl rejected them. It dims their coolness. However, you really don’t give a fuck about Wooshik looking cool in front of his boys. If anything, you revel in the cutting deflation he’ll feel when you tell them the truth.

“Did you get the wine out of your shirt?” You ask innocently. “I should’ve aimed it more towards your face and less towards your clothes.” Shrugging, a satisfied smile grows on your lips.

Wooshik’s ears turn red. “I–” he cuts eye contact as his friends snicker behind him. You watch in satisfaction as his expression changes from surprised to annoyed to angry. “You know what, fuck you. You ruined my shirt. I had to take that hot waitress back to my place instead of a hotel so I didn’t reek of wine.”

You scoff immediately. “Damn and I was trying to do her a favor. But congrats, looks like you got your tiny dick wet for two minutes.” You start to clap. One of his friends chokes back a splutter of laughter at the jab.

Wooshik wasn’t anything amazing but you sort of expected that. Most of your hookups are satisfactory. They get the job done and they give up. As stupid as it sounds, you’ve always gone above and beyond to pleasure someone. There’s something amazing about making your partner feel good but most men see sex in a selfish lens.

For most guys, sex means sticking their dick in and sloshing it around a few times until they feel good. Boom, sex over.

Now, if they want to make you feel good, it still won’t be about you. Orgasms are like points. They don’t get off on your pleasure but more on the fact that they’re so amazing at sex that you experienced pleasure. Another way to fluff their egos.

For once, you’d wish for a guy to actually care about you and your pleasure in an unselfish way, the same way you do for them.

Wooshik stumbles for a moment but he jumps back quickly to get you too. Especially with all of his boys watching.

“You didn’t seem to complain about it at first. What, changed your mind because I didn’t want you anymore?”

Oh, please. A plastic vibrator has done more for you than he ever will.

You laugh sardonically. “No, I just felt bad for you.” You say it wholeheartedly and it's the most truthful you’ve ever been with him.

His friends then burst into giggles and snickers, shoving him around when he fails to retort, left dumbfounded by the sheer audacity of you but you don’t care. You don’t get to see the look on Wooshik’s face but you don’t care. The laughter is your cue to leave him.

That chapter of your life is over now and you won’t ever have to deal with him again. The last man you’ll let trample all over you the minute you show them some sympathy.

All you can hope is that the pesky nickname that’s been poisoning you since your first year college can fade away into obscurity forever and ever.

Then, you can just be you. No label, no nickname, no reputation. Just a regular college senior.

The walk to the engineering building is lighter now. You feel like one of the falling petals gently flying through the sky from the branch down to the ground. A new journey begins and you can’t wait for it.

After another minute of walking, you reach the engineering building. Painted a soft brown with tons of posters and clubs waiting to talk to students. You dodge all of them to head inside where Jeongguk is waiting by a random classroom. You navigate through the crowd until you finally locate a mop of gorgeous dark hair and bright clear eyes.

He’s facing his phone screen, one leg crossed over the other, but you’re still mesmerized by him. Beauty is in simplicity but with a face like that, Jeongguk could wear a burlap sack and make it work. But currently, he’s dressed in baggy gray cargos and a dark blue long-sleeve shirt with some brand name logo on it. The urge to sigh like a satisfied cartoon character is intense.

You hate and love it at the same time. How on earth can he look so boyfriend without trying?

“Hey, Jeongguk,” you call softly, taking short strides towards him, hoping that your hair looks good and not like a frizzy mess from the wind.

His head pops up, glimmering eyes like two black pools of water gazing back at you. Then a soft grin forms on his lips, skin creasing, dimpling, and cute.

“Hey.” Jeongguk tucks his phone into his pants pocket. His perfume wafts over to you the moment he moves, welcoming you like a warm hug after a long day.

You want to bury your nose in it and never forget the smell.

“Sorry, I got caught up with something on the way here. Were you waiting for a while?”

“Nah, I’ve been here for like two minutes. Did you bring it?” He adjusts his bag for a moment.

“Yep.” You hand him the shirt, neatly folded and smelling of your fabric softener, along with the umbrella tied. “All clean.” A cute smile grows on his face as he gently takes the items and puts it in his bag, humming excitedly under his breath which makes your entire body warm. “Listen, are you off for the rest of the day?”

“Yeah, I have all morning classes on Mondays and Wednesdays. You?”

“Same and it just so happens that I needed a walking buddy to the subway station.” You take the first step towards the exit when he agrees with a short chuckle and a nod. Your apartment building is one stop away while Jeongguk is about four stops away so you won’t get to talk much but the sentiment is what matters.

Plus, all you really want is to be close to him and his family again. There was a real bond going on when you were young and now you’ve been handed a golden chance to reignite that spark.

Fresh air fills your lungs while your ears pick up on the sounds of fading conversations, the smell of food and new school supplies greets your nose. You have yet to reach the economics building, where more people know you, so people here aren’t staring just yet. They’re preoccupied with their own lives and you want to appreciate it for a little longer.

“By the way, thanks for Saturday. I’m sure dealing with five drunk weirdos must’ve been annoying,” you add.

You barely remember the words coming out of your mouth. It was a slew of garbled song lyrics, high thoughts and giggles and that’s the best you can do. There’s no way Jeongguk was walking out of the night sane.

He huffs out a laugh and then shakes his hair out of his eyes in a very attractive manner. “It was… well, it was something, I’ll tell you that much. But you don’t have to apologize. I don’t mind.” Then Jeongguk looks at you with his chin tilted down, lids low, almost glazed over like he’s checking you out but his gaze just dances over the features of your face.

You get incredibly shy with him staring at you like that.

Let’s hope you aren’t turning tomato red right now.

“Jimin and Tae go out a lot so I’m used to making sure they don’t, like, die.”

Jeongguk is like Jeongyeon in that sense. Always taking care of people and making sure they are safe in bed before worrying about themselves. Sometimes, she forgets that she’s allowed to have fun and let loose too and you don’t want Jeongguk to fall into the same mindset. Being the caretaker all the time can be draining.

“I mean, it’s your birthday and the rest of us were getting fucked up. Usually, it’s the other way around.”

Your 20th was nothing short of a hot mess. Nayeon snuck in bottles she got her older brother to buy and you tried to take a shot from every single type he brought. Whiskey, vodka, soju, sake, and beer. Safe to say, that was a rookie mistake that ended up hunched over a toilet bowl for almost an hour. Nayeon held your hair while Jeongyeon ordered just enough carbs and hangover soup to make it all better.

But it was a memory you hold dear to you because it was one of the last moments you felt like it was okay for you to be a stupid teenager and make a mistake.

Jeongguk didn’t get that moment and you want him to because that sloppy behavior won’t be cute when he’s in his late 20s or early 30s.

“I didn’t want to,” he shrugs simply. “Drinking is sorta fun but I don’t love it and I never let myself get super drunk.” You want to ask why but Jeongguk continues speaking. “But we had cake and barbecue before coming to the club and my parents sent a care package, so it was a good birthday. Taking care of you guys didn’t ruin everything.”

You relent a little. Perceptions of fun are different after all and maybe, for Jeongguk, he got exactly what he wanted so he isn’t complaining. The residual guilt fades slowly inside of you.

“As long as you enjoyed your birthday,” you sigh, a wave of something sentimental coming over you causes your heels to raise up so you can be tall enough to ruffle his fluffy perfect hair. The same boy who only dressed in Pokémon shirts is now legal, old enough to do whatever he wants, and you’re starting to feel a little soft about it. “Can’t believe you’re twenty!” You squeal. “You’re all grown up!”

Jeongguk cringes, turning away from your constant pinches and prods and whining as a few eyes drift towards the two of you. His ears get the tiniest bit red but he doesn’t scold you so you continue teasing him.

“Remember when you used to hand draw all of my birthday cards with little cartoons and you and Eunchae would come with my mom and I to look at all of the cakes at the store?”

The filmstrip of memories is painfully nostalgic. That one nice cake store a few streets away from your apartment building that made the best cakes. If you close your eyes, you can smell the sugary air as you walk in, a tinkling bell on the door to let the owners know someone was there, and the various cakes put in the display case. You always got the fudgiest chocolate cake with bright red strawberries on top. Your mom could only afford the small size but that was fine. You just wanted a cake.

Jeongguk would come with you and press his face to the glass in complete awe. Sometimes, the three of you would pretend like you were rich people who got to buy big cakes whenever they pleased and you’d pick the biggest sizes of your favorite flavors.

You always got chocolate, Jeongguk got some sort of fruit while Eunchae would get red velvet and you would dream of the day when you had enough money to indulge yourself on a whim. .

Then, when Jeongguk’s mom opened up her bakery, she began making your birthday cakes so the three of you sort of got your wish but those were free. Made with love and compassion until you moved too far to feel it.

“You still remember all of that?” He asks. The stone pathway turns. A signal that the economics building is getting closer by the second.

Trying not to think about it, you answer him. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?” You’ve always had impeccable memory but you treasured every second of your childhood.

Because your later teens, in Seoul and away from all that you knew, were terrible.

“I barely remembered what I ate yesterday,” Jeongguk laughs, staring over at you. “That’s pretty impressive.”

“You think so?” You turn to look at him when you feel his eyes linger for longer than usual. His stare isn’t piercing but it leaves a viable imprint on your skin like a thick layer of lotion. “What?” You get self-conscious. Is there something in your hair? Did a bird shit on you without you noticing?

“I like your hair,” Jeongguk says after a moment, pointing to the clear clip holding all of your hair up.

A few of the shorter strands come out from the tight hold with time, framing your face, while the rest remain bunched up with a large claw clip. It’s such an effortless look. This morning you were too lazy to fully style your hair with a hair dryer and a brush after spending too much time on it for your sham date with Wooshik. It’s starting to get a little greasy so you plan to wash it tomorrow but this is your go-to dirty hair look.

“Oh, thanks.” A goofy grin nearly breaks out onto your face but you stop it halfway. “I like your earrings.” You want to return Jeongguk’s compliment with one of your own. Your pointer finger runs through the three thick hoops like a wind chime, causing Jeongguk’s shoulder to rise up thanks to the ticklish sensation, getting shy. “How on earth did your mom allow all of these piercings?”

Mrs. Jeon lost her shit when a 14-year-old you greeted her with a second hole in your ears when she was coming home from the grocery store. An upperclassman offered to pierce everyone’s ears using the nurses supplies in exchange for cigarettes or candy from a nearby convenience store. Since she was your guardian for the day while your mom was out for a certification exam, she felt irresponsible but you assured her that your mom was okay with it.

Well, she had no idea at the time but you knew she’d get over it at some point. It was a second ear piercing, not like you got a tattoo on your forehead.

“These were all presents, actually.” Your fingers brush the back of his palm as you get closer to the economics building at the end of the road, a little before the sidewalk down the main road begins, as your dread multiplies. “I learned that from you. Convinced mom and dad that my good grades warranted some award and they had no choice but to say yes.”

A dangerously familiar feeling mixed with pride courses through your veins like the newest drug. Jeongguk says he doesn’t remember much but he manages to reach in and pull out a sickly sweet memory from your childhood that has your insides turning into mush. You almost want to wrap your arms around your stomach to get it to stop flipping so much.

You didn’t ask for much as a kid. Growing up you knew that money was tight so expensive things like the best console or brand name clothes were simply out of the question. But you liked to barter with your mom for more simple things. A good grade for ice cream or a day at the beach or a trip to the bookstore to buy a manga edition you’ve been waiting to read.

It wasn’t all the time but when you felt like you wanted to celebrate yourself. You earned it after all.

Then you got a little older and you wanted to become like the cool older girls you went to school with. So you dropped ice cream for piercings, nail polish, and CDs from all of the new idol groups that were popular at the time. Your mom was frugal of course, most of your stuff was cheap from the local dollar store or second hand markets, but she loved to treat you. She wished she could spoil you one day, buy you everything you could lay your eyes on, however the universe didn’t allow her to do that.

She still can’t but that’s okay. You’re glad you didn’t grow up a spoiled brat. That you learned humility and patience and empathy because it’s those traits that set you apart from most of your classmates.

“I taught you well.” Fingers itching to flick his chin, you hold back. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable with all of the touching.

Jeongguk hums. “Got these and these,” he turns his head to the other side to show you almost five studs in his ear, “after my class rank and CSAT score came out.”

“Didn’t that hurt?”

You do your best to keep your eyes either on the ground or on Jeongguk as the almighty building comes into view. Despite the heavy beating in your chest, your inner turmoil shouldn’t be obvious.

Jeongguk doesn’t need to know about your problems. Those are yours and yours alone.

“Yeah but it wasn’t unbearable. I swear, Eunchae almost passed out when she got her doubles. She hates needles.”

You laugh. “I remember. Your sister was freaking out when we were all getting our vaccines because she literally slithered down onto the floor the moment she saw the thing.”

Jeongguk hums. There’s a small break in the conversation as the two of you pass by a huge yet short wave crowd of people who are either rushing to the cafeteria or to their next class but even through all of that, you can feel eyes all over the two of your backs. Especially yours.

Your department members linger by the vending machines and smoking areas in little judgmental pods, whispering about you amongst themselves.

You can predict what they’re saying.

There she goes again, latching onto another guy after Wooshik dumped her poor pathetic ass.

Will she ever learn?

Poor thing. He probably doesn’t know that he’s dealing with the campus whore.

That word. That one word, repeats in your mind. Whore, whore, whore. That’s all you’ll ever be to them.

Fear sets in. What will they say about Jeongguk? Will he get teased? Will he find out about your reputation and want nothing to do with you afterwards? No, the last thing you want is for him to get tangled in all of this. He shouldn’t have to deal with all of this. Know about all of the things people whisper about you when they think you aren’t listening.

At some point, he’ll find out. No matter how hard you try to hide it, push it down, pretend everything is okay, Jeongguk will come to know what everyone thinks of you and all of the nasty vitriol they throw your way.

And when he does, you’re going to have to learn to let go of whatever you two have right now and whatever builds in your heart until all you have left to cling to Jeongguk are the sweet memories of your life in Busan.

Because that’s how it goes for you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Jeongguk stumbles into his apartment and throws his backpack onto his gaming chair, quickly calculating the amount of free time he has right now.

He has a group match in about two hours for League of Legends and he plans on canceling on them since he had to wake up early today. Jeongguk’s sleep schedule was fucked up all summer and suddenly, waking up at 6am instead of going to bed around then was quite literally torture.

There’s no guilt when Jeongguk texts them. He doesn’t owe his teammates anything, not like he’s joined a real league anyways. He has other priorities.

Now that he’s a student again, his sleep schedule sort of matters. His mother would cry learning about the absolute buffoonery he was committing over summer session with his new league he met online. Playing various games until the sun was peeking through his blinds and then ordering breakfast from McDonald’s while entering another battle. Usually that would entice him but all he feels is exhaustion.

Most of it is from lugging his heavy ass backpack around all day in the sun. Some of it is still from this weekend. There’s a reason Jeongguk isn’t an avid partier.

Quickly, he throws whatever pre-packaged dish he bought into the microwave and changes out of his school clothes into some sweatpants and a different shirt. All part of his usual after school routine. Then he carefully takes the steaming plate out once it’s done and sets it on the counter to cool before going to the bathroom to wash his hands.

As he walks through his hall, something presses into the soles of his feet. It’s soft but flexible and round with a hard plastic bit strung onto it that digs into his skin.

“Ouch!” He stops midway, moving his foot and staring at the mystery item. Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrow at first.

It looks like one of Taehyung’s many charm bracelets that he buys from those street vendors in Hongdae with the cute little charms around colored string. Jeongguk has one from him ( a black string with a baby pink bunny charm that he wears every now and then). The idiot probably dropped it while singing karaoke or doing his Scarface impersonation to make Jimin laugh. Jeongguk takes his phone out to text the guy but he realizes that Taehyung hasn’t been to his apartment in a few days.

The only other person that has been here was… you.

He bends down to look at the bracelet. Were you wearing one that night? Your bracelets didn't look like this. They were metal, not string. Jeongguk bends at the knees and picks it up. The string is elastic and stretchy but loose enough to fit around his wrist if needed.

Oh, it’s a hair tie.

You must’ve dropped it when you slept over. Jeongguk turns the thing around to see the charm. The elastic itself is plain black but the charm seems to be some Sanrio character that he recognizes but cannot remember the name of.

Hello Kitty? No, he knows her and she doesn’t look like this.

Cinnamoroll? No, that’s a puppy. This is some weird purple looking thing.

My Melody? Maybe.

Fuck, he doesn’t have time to worry about this. Jeongguk shoves the damn thing in his pocket, makes a mental reminder to text you about it after eating lunch, and goes to quickly wash his hands. His fingers push the door open to his bathroom. Clean white tiles, the scent diffuser smelling of white musk, and his TMNT towel drying on the rack.

Jeongguk looks up at himself in the mirror. His eyes are sunken in and a little swollen from the lack of sleep. His stomach rumbles as he lathers his hands in his fresh cotton hand soap.

But all he can think about is you on that night.

Saturday Night.

The night felt never-ending.

Jeongguk was doing his best to get everyone in a car ride home safely after song after song on the dance floor but he was getting a little overwhelmed with all that was thrown onto him in the span of a few short minutes when Nayeon decided she wanted to go home.

Laughing, tripping, complaining about vomiting, a smell coming from some random spot that’s making someone nauseous, Jeongguk felt like a parent trying to get their kids together. His phone was glued to his hands to call cabs and type in addresses while making sure the five of you didn’t wander off into the unknown without his supervision.

Thankfully, one of your friends managed to usher the other into a cab and Jimin was able to shove a whiny Taehyung into the one Jeongguk had ordered so now all he had left was you.

Drunk you was something else. Stuck onto him like a second layer, arms twined tightly around his waist, mumbling about something random while stumbling over every step. Jeongguk had half a mind to just pick you up and walk to where the guy had parked but he didn’t want to make your nausea even worse by swinging you around.

“Wait! Jeongguk, I can’t find my phone, we have to go back,” you whined, tugging on his arm with one hand. “I-I can’t–hiccup–I can’t live without my-my phone!”

You were clutching your phone in your other hand.

He sighed. “You’re holding it,” motioning to the device pressed into your fingers. “Come on, the cab is parked there.” The yellow thing looked like something descending from the heavens while the driver finished the last of his cigarette and belched loud enough for Jeongguk to hear.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Are you really sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I trust you.” You mumbles, hugging him close like he was a large pillow.

The next few minutes passed by a bit quicker as you let Jeongguk help you into the car and started on your way back to his apartment since you and your friends were incapable of remembering your address.

He leaned against the tough upholstery as the car began moving. Muscles tight and tired. Jeongguk felt the rivulets of sweat dripping down on his neck which he quickly wiped off and onto his pants, something he usually doesn't do but he’s at the state of not really giving a fuck about clothes he’s going to wash anyways. His body bobbles with a shaky turn and somehow, your limp body ends up pressed into his side, head leaning on his chest while a muffled groan leaves your painted lips.

“Ah s-sorry,” you slurred, attempting to sit up by placing a hand on Jeongguk’s mid-thigh. “I forgot to put on my belt.” Your perfume flowed to him, a soft clean scent, maybe a bit sucrose when mixed with the scent of your shampoo.

“Oh, the belt is finicky on that side, ma’am.” The driver informs. He meets both of your eyes in the rearview mirror. “It’s okay. Lean on your boyfriend for the rest of the drive. Should only take a few more minutes!”

Jeongguk opens his mouth to correct but you interrupt him with a giggle. His head switches to you, mouth covered, skin dimpling. “Boyfriend.” You repeat.

The driver plays along, most likely very confused, just like Jeongguk. “You two make a lovely couple.”

That next statement makes you giggle a little more. Jeongguk wants to know what is so funny about this cab driver assuming the two of you are dating. Do you find the hypothetical to be so insanely outrageous that it’s hilarious? Should he even bother asking or should he let it go to save himself the pain from hearing your brazenly honest answer?

Jeongguk chooses to ignore it. He knows another turn is coming up so he raises his left arm and nudges you closer to rest on him comfortably. That same arm circles around your shoulders and the top of your head tickles the bottom of Jeongguk’s nose. You’re warm and comforting after a long night, bringing up a slew of feelings he’s been pushing down for years at this point.

Still mumbling to yourself, you become distracted with the jewelry on Jeongguk’s hand so you don’t hear the questions that the cab driver throws your way.

“How long have you two been dating?” He asks, turning down the late night radio station playing old hits.

Jeongguk just goes along with it. “It’s-uh-very recent, sir.” A four hour relationship to be exact. “But I’ve known her since we were kids.”

“How cute! My wife and I only dated for a few months before I proposed, you know,” he proclaims proudly, shoulders broadening. Jeongguk nods and fakes a grin in hopes that the conversation ends here.

Jeongguk wants to laugh. Marriage?

He’s never even been in a relationship before. He’s barely gone past kissing someone for longer than two minutes. With the way things are going, Jeongguk will probably live his life exactly like Steve Carell in the movie The 40-year-old Virgin only there’s no way he’ll get a happy ending.

The cab driver laughs to himself when he sees the look on Jeongguk's face before turning the music back up. You’ve successfully knocked out on Jeongguk’s chest so you miss the faint redness creeping up his neck and to his ears but it’s not something he wants you to see either. His brain zeros in on his own pathetic state of affairs.

He’s always prided himself on his emotional maturity for someone so young but romantically? Horrendous.

Jeongguk has always stood behind the belief that he simply isn’t meant to be in a relationship with anyone. Sometimes he can be too shy, too closed off, and people don’t gravitate towards people like that. They want someone who can be openly affectionate after a few conversations and Jeongguk simply isn’t the type. The only reason why he has friends like Taehyung and Jimin is because they made an effort to get to know him at his pace. It’s the same with you, who was older and a girl but you still made the effort to invite Jeongguk to watch Barbie movies or search for coins to get the cheapest candy at the convenience store. People usually don’t care after he brushes them off a few times but you did, Taehyung and Jimin did, and Jeongguk gets all fuzzy inside.

Would he ever find someone like you three again? Would he ever be so lucky? Probably not.

He looks over at your face smushed against his chest, playing with the zipper of his jacket. You’re so pretty, always have been, always will be, like a rare flower. Even after all of this time, he’s so taken aback by how effortlessly beautiful you are; on the outside and the inside. The way your hair falls delicately over your face, cheeks puffed, lips puckered; the way your shirt gives you an angelic look and your necklace lies perfectly in the middle of your collarbones.

It’s enticing. Jeongguk can’t take his eyes off of you. He never could.

Fuck, this random reunion might do more harm than good if Jeongguk doesn’t learn to control himself. This isn’t the time to reawaken old feelings that he pushed down for a good reason.

Once the cab stops in front of his apartment building, Jeongguk pays him and then helps you out of the car. Body limp and slippery like slinky.

“No, I forgot how to walk,” you mumbled, leaning against one of the pillars outside the building to keep yourself up straight. “Can’t I just sleep here? It’s comfortable.”

“That’s a concrete pillar.” Jeongguk runs a hand through his slightly dampened hair. “Come on, there’s an elevator and I don’t live too high up. You’ll sleep better on my bed.”

A pout grows stronger on your face, a few streaks of something black collecting in the corner of your eyes and your lipstick is smeared a little but Jeongguk still finds you so put together and exquisite. Still like that rare flower on top of a mountain peak; beautiful yet impossible to reach.

“Fine.” You peel yourself off the pillar. “But if you’re lying to me, I’m gonna pinch those cute little cheeks right off your face.” Squishing his flesh momentarily before dropping your hands, Jeongguk blinks a few times in shock.

Focus, Jeon. She needs to rest.

Getting you inside is easier than he thought. The promise of the elevator and a warm bed with some water turned you much more docile. But you’re still enamored by his rings which you slip on and off his fingers as the elevator beeps. Then, Jeongguk slips off your shoes and tells you to wait by the kitchen counter while he rifles through his things, handing you a shirt and directing you to the bathroom.

A loud sigh escapes his lips once he’s all alone. Jeongguk has about ten seconds to change himself. He’s been in these tight jeans that squeeze his legs like anything. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone so hard in the gym over the summer. Now most of his old clothes don’t fit him as well as they used to.

Quickly, he throws on his pajamas just as you emerge from the bathroom and hum a random song from tonight.

Then, he helps you into bed, groaning out at the soreness in his muscles from all of the lifting he’s been doing today. You don’t fight back too much, clearly worn out, so you sink into the soft padding easily like a little kitten. He throws the blankets over you, does a quick check to see if you’re okay, and then gets into his own makeshift bed made out of a thin mattress and a set of sheets.

It’s not nearly as comfortable as his own bed and his back might be mad at him tomorrow but it’ll do for now.

Just as Jeongguk is beginning to fall into deep sleep, he hears you rusting around, mumbling under your breath about something. Your hands push yourself up on your elbows. For a second, he thinks you’re going to throw up so he gets up quickly and makes his way to his kitchen to grab a plastic bag.

But you start speaking louder.

“I can’t believe you, Seojoon.” Your hair sticks out from every corner as you flop back down, lips bloated and pouty, slapping around the comforter and pointing to no one. “I hate you.” Jeongguk’s eyebrow raises, pausing in the middle of his kitchen to decipher what on earth you are talking about.

Clearly, you’re having a nightmare. Jeongguk takes quiet steps back to his spot on the floor in order to avoid that one squeaky

“You cheated on me with Somin, didn’t you? You bastard. You told me you loved me,” whining, your body twists around. “Why else would I let you fuck me?”

Jeongguk reels his brain back to stop the curious sympathy right there. He doesn’t want to prod further into this bad dream involving a fight with an ex of some sort. It’s none of his business and clearly this wasn’t meant for him to hear. All he does care about is if you’re going to vomit or not.

He calls your name. “Are you okay?” Jeongguk whispers.

You don’t respond. Instead, your face twists in discomfort as you continue to mumble into his mattress and writhe around.

Jeongguk grows increasingly worried. He doesn’t want you to choke or anything of the sort while he’s deep in REM. Slowly, he gets down on his knees to get a closer look at you tossing and turning.

“It hurts so much.”

Jeongguk gently places a hand on your arm, saying your name softly so you don’t wake up. “Hey, you okay? Do you want water?” You twist away from his touch at first. “It’s me, it’s me, it’s Jeongguk,” reminding you as your lids barely part. He thinks you register him, that maybe you’re somewhat awake right now as you begin to curl forward.

But then your hands clasp Jeongguk’s arms tightly, restricting his every move.

“You’re going to leave me, aren’t you?” Your voice slurs, the tip of your nose meeting the fabric of his shirt, fingers digging into the flesh hard enough to leave indents.

Nothing but confusion clouds Jeongguk’s brain. What are you talking about?

“You told me you loved me. What? Don’t you want me anymore?”

Tightening around him, you bury your face into his neck again. Your arms begin to raise, wrap around his shoulders to bring your body closer to his rigid frame. Jeongguk feels wetness from your eyes begin to drip onto his skin, dampening his shirt.

“Just do it then. Just leave me. No one ever sticks around anyways. Guys always leave me the moment something new comes along. Every single one,” you enunciate, vibrating into him, crying softly. “You don’t even care about how much you hurt me. No one cares.”

Jeongguk is paralyzed under your hold as your tears start to roll down. Your sobs are loud and erratic and painful, as if all of this hurt has building until you eventually couldn’t hold onto it anymore. That it took alcohol and a long night to wedge it out of you.

It’s contradictory; holding him tight and telling him to leave you.

But he doesn’t push you away and he doesn't let go. Jeongguk lets you grip onto him for safety because he’s terrified that removing his touch could break you even further.

He doesn’t know what is happening in your dream to make you behave like this, he doesn’t know what made the previous glee that used to make your eyes bright fade away after all of those years passed. He wants to ask but he doesn't know how.

All Jeongguk does know is that you were different. Not in a good or bad way but you were simply different. The happy go lucky little girl grew into a hardened adult. When he looked into your eyes tonight, he saw traces of all of this hurt woven alongside other emotions. Like a heavy blanket that only pushes you further and further deeper into a more melancholic way of being.

And as he helps you back into bed once your tears stop falling, rubs some cooling Vicks rub on your forehead and pulls the cover close, his brain turns into an echo chamber until he tires himself to sleep.

No one ever sticks around anyways.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A week has passed and while you thought you could gain control of your physics plight, it seems like the universe has some different plans.

The tutor that you selected, a second year girl who is majoring in electrical engineering, has been a total flake. You exchanged numbers with her on Thursday during Week 1 and she fed you all of these sweet words about wanting to become friends and teaching in a friendly, kind way which immediately softened you. The last thing you wanted was for some dickhead to call you stupid because you didn’t understand the concept the first time.

She said she’d meet you at the library that Saturday at 3pm to come up with a schedule and she never showed. So you rescheduled to Sunday, then Monday, then Tuesday and now you just feel like an idiot.

There’s always some excuse. Either she slept in or she’s not feeling well or her roommate needs her but you’re losing your damn mind right now.

“You’re not paying her, right?” Jeongyeon asks, rummaging through Nayeon’s bag for something. “Maybe she’s a scammer?”

You give her a dull look. “She doesn’t get paid by me. I think the university does or she’s earning credits, I don’t know. But I’m fucked for the big quiz we have next week.”

It’s only Week 2 but the material is daunting and frankly put, you’ll shit your pants the day of the actual quiz and whatever date the final is. This is all so unfamiliar to you and, unlike other subjects, you struggle to find that area where the content becomes interesting. All you feel is terror.

Nayeon, ever the optimist, tries to lift your spirit.

“Girl, that shit is next week. Do yourself a favor, find a new tutor, study a whole bunch and then ace the quiz. There’s no point in waiting for this random girl to start caring. It’s your grade after all.”

“Yeah but I just don’t want someone that’s going to be an asshole when I get things wrong.”

People love to dumb you down, especially those in your own department. Obviously your promiscuity directly correlates to your intelligence. Girls can only be slutty or smart, right? There exists no gray area. But you know yourself. Even if science and math aren’t your thing, you’re a smart person. You got into a top performing university without any fancy prep classes or coaches and you are consistently pulling good grades each semester. That speaks more about you and your capabilities than anything else.

“I’ve heard this one guy is pretty good. He’s a teacher’s assistant pursuing his masters degree here.” Nayeon takes her phone out to look him up. “My friend was in his Chemistry group sessions and he was apparently super helpful and kind. I think he does physics too. Let me ask her.”

You perk up. It would be perfect if you could land a tutoring session with this TA instead of your missing student tutor. Even if it’s a group setting

“Let me know what your friend says.” You look away from the two in front of you for a split second as your attention was cut by your phone vibrating on the table. Flipping it over you see a text from your flakey tutor herself.

Reading it over, you roll your eyes heavily. Another lame excuse about her skipping out on your tutoring session because she scheduled a meeting with her professor at the exact same time by accident. You ignore it and plan to respond with a passive aggressive rejection to end all of this bullshit. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jeongyeon and Nayeon try to discreetly take their edibles before digging into the food you all ordered.

Steaming plates of rice, kimchi, stir-fry and meats along with a few fried foods makes your stomach grumble. You flip your phone back over and grab your chopsticks, changing the subject quickly.

“What are you guys doing after this?” You ask. The edibles are going to last a while and considering a weed high has different stages, there’s no way these two are going to be eating the entire time. Munchies aren’t that strong.

Jeongyeon wiggles her eyebrows suggestively to her girlfriend, cheeks full like a chipmunk, and Nayeon turns beet red. Enough context for you to figure it out, breaking into a fit of giggles.

“Ohhh, I see.”

Good for them. If only you were getting laid too. Lately, your vibrator has been your best friend late at night when your mind wanders.

With thirteen settings, it’s safe to say you won’t be getting bored for a while.

However, you’ve never done it while being high. You’d want to do it with someone you’re comfortable with, maybe a consistent trustworthy hookup and only if consent is 100% enthusiastic, but you can only imagine how heightened the senses feel.

Getting lost in thought, you cross one of your legs over the other, thinking about the haziness parting as you ride them slow but deep. Your hands will grip their shoulders, nails digging into the tight flesh as the drag of their length is delicious inside of you. Moaning out loud at how full you feel, watching the sharp bone of his jaw unhinge with pleasure, thick silver earrings brushing your skin, dark hair between your fingers as you increase the pace and drive the two of you to the tipping point.

It sounds… so satisfying.

Fuck, okay, you need to get some control over yourself. It must be the week before your period or something because your mind has been cooking up these scenarios that demand attention.

And most of the time it involves some familiar looking yet faceless character giving you the best dick you’ve ever gotten. It’s really messing with you.

How the fuck are you going to be Miss Celibacy if your ass can’t go a week without sex?

You stab your chopsticks into a large chunk of tofu and stare at the red sauce over the surface before shoving it into your mouth in hopes of distracting you when an angry recognizable voice flutters past your table.

“..and this bitch has the nerve to look me dead in the eye and go, ‘well, you just lost yourself a customer,’ as if any of us give a shit. Like ma’am I get paid minimum wage to make watery coffee and reheat cardboard sandwiches regardless of your purchase, please leave me alone and die.”

Turning your head, you see tufts of blonde and shiny boots combined with the soft smell of peaches: Jimin.

And right next to him is none other than Jeon Jeongguk who is chuckling at Jimin’s whiny Karen tone to describe his awful customer. His cheeks creasing, eyes getting shinier and cute.

You can feel your body thrum with excitement.

“Hey guys!” Nayeon waves, setting down her utensils. They turn to look at her, then Jeongyeon and then at you, bowing while greeting. Your shoulders cave in when you feel Jeongguk’s stare on your face. “Do you wanna eat lunch with us?”

“Hell yeah. Is the menu today good?” Jimin asks.

Jeongyeon, with a mouth full of food, nods excitedly which is perfect. Jeongguk and Jimin laugh, motioning to the lunch line quickly so you save the table and go back to eating your lunches. Your brain demands another curious glance at Jeongguk’s retreating figure.

What? He looks really fucking sexy from the back.

Ever since the first day of school, you agreed to ride the subway back with Jeongguk on the days you end class at the same time and you've come to the conclusion that he is quite literally the hottest guy on the entire planet. Hotter than any other guy you’ve wasted your time with.

He has the most boyish features but his body is perfectly crafted. Wide shoulders, defined thighs and arms, a super sculpted back, but not overly burly where he looks fake. Like an exquisite marble statue from the Hellenistic period.

Yes, yes, you know it’s sort of weird considering the fact that you’ve watched grow up from a cute kid to an emo pre-teen and now jumping to the absolute meal he is now but it’s just some simple attraction.

One that rears its ugly head whenever Jeongguk laughs or smiles or pushes his hair out of his face or tongues his cheek or does literally anything.

There are a million reasons why this could’ve happened. From all the time spent together from the subway rides to morning coffee and dinner one night (with all of your friends but it still counts) or you’re thinking this silly little attraction might be a combination of a lack of dick, PMS and pure loneliness. Either way, it isn’t anything major.

Finding a way to ignore it is the next step.

Nayeon nudges you. “Remind me again, how exactly are you two childhood friends?” Her cheeks puffed with food.

“Oh, I lived in Busan until high school and he was my neighbor. I would always hang out with him and his two sisters.” You explain, taking another bite of soft sticky rice.

“Older sisters?”

You shake your head. “One older and one younger.” Wondering why this is relevant.

But then, Nayeon and Jeongyeon make eye contact, eyebrows raising like they do when they know something you don’t. Meanwhile, you’re just sitting there like an idiot, waiting for context with your chopsticks held halfway up to your mouth.

“Green flag. Bright green fucking flag.” Jeongyeon whistles.

“Huh?” Your chopsticks barely prod your lip without your mouth opening. Did the edibles pull out some secret stoner knowledge that you aren’t aware of?

Jeongyeon decides to explain it to you. “According to the girlies on tiktok, men with older sisters are usually green flags. Something about learning gentleness and patience and respecting women from an early age or whatever. I don’t get you heteros so it went past my head.”

You’re puzzled at first. These men all have mothers, they came from a woman who nursed them and cared for them until now, why is having an older sister so different?

But then it hits you.

The way Jeongguk treats you is so different from the way most guys treat you. There’s no domineering masculinity coming from him in heavy waves trying to overpower you. It’s softer. He’s so approachable and gentle. He never touches you unless you’re okay with it, he’s always polite and kind and sweet. He never makes you feel stupid or inadequate, doesn’t talk over you, nothing of the sort.

And while it’s the barest of minimum, Jeongguk makes you feel safe.

Even Jeongyeon and Nayeon, who are often not comfortable around straight men, found him to be a delight. That has to mean something.

“I…I never thought about it,” your voice goes a little husky. Tucking a stray piece of hair out of your face as your cheeks get a little warm. “He’s just a good guy, you know. Jihyo, his sister, always kept him in check. I guess, it’s a good thing.”

Kids lead by example. Growing up in an environment where the adults around you were treating women poorly or pushing people around will appear in relationships. But Jeongguk was the opposite.

“It is. Think about it,” Nayeon leans in, “after all of those duds you’ve been with, he’s just what you’re looking for.”

The way your heartbeat accelerates is not a good sign.

Your chin pulls back, like you’re leaning away from the possibility. “What? I’m not gonna date him, Nayeon,” you groan under your breath.

“Why not?” She whines, slamming her fists onto the table, then laughing slightly at the indents left on his skin.

“Because he has no interest in dating right now,” you grumble, remembering his words from his birthday.

Even if you did try to pursue it, there’s a high chance Jeongguk might only see you as his older sister’s friend. Which is how it should be! It’s best that you let this silly little crush die like a lonely star and maintain your promise of making this year all about you. Your bullet vibrator is going to have to help you whenever you get the urge but besides that, no sex, no dates, no boys, nothing of the sort.

“Did he tell you that?” Jeongyeon asks, eyes glazing over. The weed must be hitting pretty hard. You’re surprised they can keep up with this conversation.

Then again, they’re probably used to it.

You nod. “At the club.” Snorting, your eyes briefly flick to the other side of the cafeteria where a certain someone sits. “Juri offered him her number and he said he wasn’t going to go out with her.”

That seems to wake the brunette up. “Fuck, really? I wish I saw that,” she pouts, leaning on the blonde curled up next to her. Cute.

“Well, he didn’t say no since you two started fucking hazing him the moment you saw him,” you scold. “But he told me he was going to reject her if/when he saw her in person.”

“Hey! You were the one who directed us to shoo away any man that came up to you that night.” Nayeon defends. “We were just listening to instructions when we came over to stop you two.”

Jeongyeon joins in. “Yeah, and he looked like your usual type so we assumed we should pull you away. How were we supposed to know the super hot guy you were talking to was a friend?”

You open your mouth to quip back when you feel a presence behind you, casting a shadow on your back. The lingering smell of cologne and food dance in the air. A wave of despair crashes inside of your stomach and you really wish a black hole would open up right under to sweep you away from this hellscape.

“What are you guys talking about?”

Taehyung Jimin split to sit on the bench between Nayeon and Jeongyeon’s bench and yours. It's a square shaped table with four benches on each side, so enough space for two people per bench. The two couples share a bench while you and Jeongguk get your own, although he still sits closer to you on his own bench.

“U-uh–” Jeongyeon stutters, looking at you with wide eyes for help.

“Oh, just some guy,” you fake a laugh, flicking some hair out of your face and turning to food so you can shovel it in your face like a starved person.

Taehyung laughs a little. “Just some guy? Jeongyeon was saying that he’s super hot and your type.” He’s being cheeky, like he always is, but this time, you can’t engage in a back and forth with him.

Because the hot sweet guy you were talking about is sitting right next to you.

Your brain urges you to take a peek. Jeongguk is dressed like he usually is; a pair of baggy cargo pants and a light gray sweatshirt, and he always looks attractive. The fall wind is allowing you to smell the scent of his flowery shampoo in combination with his usual perfume and it’s such an addictive scent that you never want to forget.

But you can’t think about that. You should be thinking of a lie.

“I’ve always wondered if you had a boyfriend,” Jimin asks, resting his chin on his palm. A sly smirk forms on his lips, just as cheeky as his own boyfriend’s. “I asked Jeongguk and he said he didn’t know.”

Fuck. You look at him now, hair swishing with your movements. The boy is eating without a care and shrugs in response. “You never mentioned one.”

Yeah, because there isn’t one. You’ve never had a boyfriend in your life.

Sweat beads your palms. There has to be some guy that you can just drop in here for the sake of the conversation. Some random guy out in this cafeteria that is insignificant enough to never cross paths with you again so you can nip this conversation right in the bud.

You scan the place. There are a few guys you’ve already hooked up with so that’s a no. Some groups of first-years and that’s also a no (you’re not trying to catch a case here).

For fucks’ sake, are the only hot guys at this school Jimin, Taehyung and Jeongguk?

“Uh–”

Nayeon swoops in like a guardian angel. “We were talking about the Physics and Chem tutor. I don’t know if you guys have had him but, Kim Namjoon?”

Right, the tutor Nayeon’s friend went to. The really nice one.

She sends you a hidden wink from her end of the table and you respond with a quick finger heart. Bless her soul.

“Joon? Oh, he is so hot.” Jimin, to your surprise, bounces at the chance to thirst over this supposed sexy tutor that you’ve never seen before. His eyes roll back at the sheer thought of him, leaning closer to gossip. “He was our tutors for Physics 2 last semester and wow.” He shakes his head, marveled at such a man. “He could top me and then never speak to me again and I’d be okay with that.”

Now you’re curious about this Kim Namjoon. Just how hot is he?

Taehyung jumps in. “I agree, however, “he holds a single finger up, “I would also like to add Kim Seokjin, the bio tutor.” His eyes roll back dramatically. “Dream threesome. Foursome if you want babe,” he nudges the blonde who blushes in agreement.

Then the entire table breaks out into giggles and with a little coaxing, Nayeon and Jeongyeon reveal their ideal threesomes which you already know the answers to (Han Sohee and Irene from Red Velvet) since they share the same girl crushes. Then you answer begrudgingly which are the two male leads from Business Proposal because, obviously. However, the person next to you is rather quiet. You lightly nudge his side with your elbow to check in with him.

“You okay?” You’re asking just in case Jeongguk isn’t comfortable with sex talk.

But he nods. “Sorry, I’m still listening. Just really hungry. All I had for breakfast was a protein shake.” Jeongguk inhales the glazed stir-fry chicken on his plate, a dot of sauce landing on the corner of his lip and, oh my, do you want to wipe it off for him because he is so cute with his bready baby cheeks all puffed with food.

“Come on,” you pretend to scold. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” Jeongguk’s mom would weep if she heard about him skipping.

He waves it off but you can see his ears get a little red. “Yeah, yeah, I know but I slept through my alarms so I was in a rush this morning. Almost pulled a Taehyung and crashed into the wall while trying to run out.”

You laugh at the image. Taehyung can be a bit of a klutz. At the club on Jeongguk’s birthday, he almost crashed into an entire table because he was dizzy from doing tiktok dances all night. Your head throws back slightly, eyes fluttering shut, and when you open them again, Jeongguk’s eyes are on you.

They feel explorative, searching every inch of your face like he doesn’t want to forget a single inch, lips quirked up in a half smile but it’s Jeongguk’s eyes that really take you aback. His eyes have never looked at you like that before.

As if something is swimming deep in those pools of glimmery chocolate brown; something warm and sweet in there.

“Sorry,” he blushes, turning his eyes away from your face and back onto his food. Your heart stops for a moment, looking down at his pillowy soft lips. They’re right there, moisturized and pink. All you really have to do is lean in.

And with the way Jeongguk looks at you, you really fucking want to.

He’s so beautiful. So pretty and sweet and kind and unlike any other guy you’ve ever wanted. The urge to go for him is almost primal that you can barely hold yourself back.

Your friends are like little angels in your head, goading you on to just do it. Just kiss him and take him and then drop it. Satiate that part of you that needs sex, that needs to fucked just right, and then move on. It would be different than usual because Jeongguk is different from the previous men so you wouldn’t get hurt.

Although…

He’s Jihyo’s little brother, the boy who needed to hold your hand when crossing the street, the kid always on his skateboard or his nose buried in a manga. Would it tarnish everything that you find familiar to just go for it? Would years of a perfectly healthy happy friendship go right down the drain?

But Jeongguk is an adult, only one year younger than you. There isn’t anything wrong.

Ideally, you could just lean in and–

“Jeongguk, what was the name of the blue penguin in the Backyardigans? I really need to know like now,” Taehyung urges, breaking your train of thought immediately.

You fly back as if the contact singes you, curling into yourself and placing a single hand on the surface of the table to catch your breath. You completely forgot about the whole conversation going on around you when you stared into Jeongguk’s pretty deep eyes.

It’s clear as day to you. With the man he’s become, it’s obvious that you are definitely into Jeon Jeongguk.

“Huh?” He rasps, slightly out of it too. “Oh-uh, Pablo. He’s the one that sings International Super Spy.”

“Pablo! I knew it.” Taehyung snaps his fingers loudly. “How do you still remember that?”

Jeongguk awkwardly forces out a laugh. “We watched a few episodes together this summer, remember?”

“Right. Pretty sure I was blazed out of my mind, though.”

Jimin nudges him. “Babe, when are you not blazed out of your mind?”

“When I’m with you, baby boy,” he coos.

The boy next to you groans out loud. “Ugh, you two are so nasty.” His voice is muffled by food but he still gets his point across. You bite back a giggle at the disgust on his face.

“Jeongguk, you can’t be mean to us. It’s homophobic.” Jimin points a chopstick in his direction but Jeongguk simply shrugs and continues eating without a care.

Jeongyeon pipes up. “I agree. That applies to you too, Queen of the Straights.”

The direct hit has pulled you out of your internal panic, reminding you to contribute to the conversation like friends usually do. Your eyes dull a little. “Yes ma’am.” Faking a soldier’s salute to make everyone laugh.

You’re glad that everyone else seems oblivious to what just happened because you know that had the two of you been alone, the situation would be entirely different.

And you don’t know if that outcome would be any better than this one.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

On Friday, classes get canceled.

Thankfully, it’s nothing bad. All of the buildings are getting fumigated to keep out any infestations that might’ve crawled in over the summer since someone thought they saw a cockroach in the Arts building so all the professors decide to post the lecture information online or have virtual class if necessary.

You had no complaints with this change. Attend class in your pajamas, in your bed, and have the option to fall asleep without getting caught? Sounds perfect.

Although, no in person class means you don’t get to speak to your Physics professor to complain about your flakey tutor and find a new one which you were banking on completing before you had your huge quiz next week. So, once your final lecture ends, you begin to worry about how the hell you’re going to resolve that problem.

Sure, you could easily self-review with the resources online but you’ve always learned more theoretical concepts with someone explaining it to you in person so you could ask questions immediately.

You shut your laptop off and place it on top of the long coffee table you use as a desk. An open notebook with notes sits on your right, pen clicked off, highlighters placed neatly in your pencil case, and the silence of your studio apartment almost starts ringing in your ears.

Who do you know that can tutor you for physics?

Nayeon sent you the email address for the Namjoon person whom everyone is vouching for. You asked this morning if he had any space in his tutoring session but he responded saying that he does but he isn’t having a session today and he’s happy to answer any questions over email or through a video call individually.

You genuinely consider that option until you look up at the decor in your room that Namjoon has no chance of missing during the video call.

Now, you wouldn’t call yourself a strange person, if anything you are a well-adjusted member of society, but the pieces chosen to hang up in your studio apartment would raise some eyebrows. From the poster of Bibble from Barbie saying Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss to the concerning amount of Sanrio plushies you’ve collected over the years to all of the cat beds and toys thrown around the place and the impressive array of diffusers in every corner, your apartment is an amalgamation of you.

And you don’t know if this Namjoon guy is going to take one look at the place and peg you down as a fucking weirdo or not. You want to make a good impression on him.

So, you wrack your brain for a different option to help you just before your quiz next week.

Someone. Anyone.

Your worst bet is to walk over to the nearest cram school and ask someone there but those are all high school students and you’d die of embarrassment.

Then you remember, Jeongguk took Physics last semester. Maybe he can help.

Quickly, you pat around your duvet for your phone. It’s lying screen down a few inches away from Snowball’s sleeping body. Carefully, you grab the device, scroll through your contacts and call him with fiery hope coursing through you thickly.

“Hello?” His voice drips from the speakers like flowing water and you want to drown in it.

“Hey, are you done with online classes?” You ask, on your back and knees to your chest in a very suggestive position.

“Uh almost,” Jeongguk trails off. “Why? What’s up?”

You hold back a goofy smile at his distracted tone. “You know how you said you took physics last semester?” He hums in response. “Do you think you could explain a few concepts to me? I have this big ass quiz soon and I don’t wanna bomb it.”

You wait. The pessimist in you expects a rejection, a flat out ‘I’d rather die than waste my time explaining physics concepts to a 21-year-old,’ but the optimist is waiting with a bouquet of roses on the other side.

This is Jeongguk we’re talking about. Sweet, sweet, lovely Jeongguk. Not that dickhead that sits in the back of lecture and watches hentai on his phone.

“Oh. I’m not the best teacher.”

Both the optimist and pessimist in your head are waiting on the balls of their feet. That wasn’t the answer you were expecting but it's an answer you aren’t hurt by!

“That’s okay! I just need someone to go over it with me. As long as you aren’t mean, I won’t complain.” You want to appeal to Jeongguk in a way that’ll get the guy to bend a little and what other way to a man’s heart than food? “I’ll repay you with dinner,” you sing-song.

There’s a brief pause, like he’s considering the option while noises mumble in the background. “What’s the menu?” Jeongguk asks.

God, he’s so cute. Your cheeks are raised so high, they might as well curl into your eyes.

“I live near a great fried chicken place.” Works out perfectly because you’ve been craving something fried for a while now. Must be your period.

Jeongguk barely waits a second. “Sold. Text me the time and your address.”

You cut the call after bidding each other goodbye. A giddy squeal almost bubbles out of your lips until you realize that you have about two hours until Jeongguk is in your apartment for the first time ever.

Alone. No friends. No family.

Just you and this super hot guy.

No interruptions. Complete privacy.

You launch out of bed so fast that you wake up Snowball from her slumber. Quickly, you shower and you take your time to scrub your body with lilac body wash and shave. Usually Friday is your pamper day so this isn’t anything out of the ordinary. Then you wash your greasy hair to rid yourself of the conditioning hair mask you slathered on this morning. After your shower, you walk around your studio with your fluffy bathrobe and microfiber towel on to find the perfect outfit.

It has to be comfortable but cute. Even though Jeongguk is just tutoring you and there is a high chance that this meeting will only be platonic, you still want to look your best.

Rummaging through your dresser drawers and closet, your eyes immediately fall to your collection of baby-doll lingerie sets in various colors. An expensive purchase, but you’ve always enjoyed dressing up every now and then. Your fingers dance across the itchy lace, thinking about which one Jeongguk would like? Lilac? Baby pink? Maybe the nude one with the intricate designs on the cups? Or how about the blood red and black one that looks like it came straight out of a BDSM film?

Nah, that’s too much. You go for yoga pants, a plain t-shirt and a quarter-zip with your university’s logo on it. Then selecting a lacy pair of underwear and no bra. You hate wearing one at home anyways.

The clothes lay spread out on your bed as you begin your post shower process of lotion, deodorant, a soft scented body spray and then your clothes. Then, you dry your hair and then begin cleaning up the little clutter you have over the place. You’re a neat person, which others find shocking, so there isn’t much to do. You dry some dishes on the rack, reset your bedsheets, light up a candle, empty the litter box, and eat a mediocre salad as you wait for the clock to strike 5pm.

Time moves at a microscopic pace, probably because you’re staring at the moving hands in hopes that you’ll blink at the pretty boy will be standing at your doorstep. You should focus on something else in the meantime. So you take out your physics notebook and begin reviewing.

Next week’s quiz will be on a little under ½ of the energy chapter covered so far. You’ve been paying attention, taking diligent notes, and doing pretty good on the homework but the topics still freak you out.

It’s a STEM thing. You haven’t taken one since your first year so you’re rusty and the material seems extra intimidating. Unlike Jeongguk, Jimin and Taehyung, you don’t study this on a daily basis.

But there’s nothing you won’t be able to conquer without working.

About halfway through your revision is when the buzz of your home intercom rings, shocking you out of your thoughts. Slowly, you get up, dusting the invisible particles off your clothes and going over to the machine to let Jeongguk in. There’s a short waiting game, lasting about two minutes, as he probably comes up from the lobby and reaches your door before knocking.

You’re putting a kettle of water to boil as the sound resonates and you rush over to open the door with a bright smile on your lips.

“Hey,” you breathe out, taking in the sights before you.

As always, Jeongguk looks perfect in a gray long-sleeve t-shirt and black sweats. Like the comfy soft boyfriend of your dreams. His hair is a little damp at the ends but it waves a little past his eyebrow as it grows and his backpack straps pull his shirt wide to show off his broad shoulders.

Fucking hell, you think. You want to eat him up and ruin him.

Swallowing shakily, you step aside as he grins. “Hi.” Jeongguk’s voice is low, like usual, but a little buttery and less hoarse. Almost sexy.

Basically, it’s doing things to you.

Carefully, you lead him inside where Jeongguk takes his shoes off and stares at the place with those big eyes of his. You wonder what goes through that pretty head of his as he stares at the various stuffed animals and the wall art. But, instead, he lands on the Kirby shaped cat-bed at the base of your bed holding Snowball’s half-asleep body.

“You have a cat?” He asks.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you.” You walk in front of the thing, squatting down in front of the entrance to hold a hand out for the ball of fluff to sniff. Snowball headbutts you immediately. “You didn’t inherit your dad’s allergy, did you?”

That would crush you. As much as you like dogs, you’re a cat person at heart or a Snowball person at heart.

Jeongguk shakes his head no. Then he comes to the same spot you are and gets on his knees on the opposite side of you, watching with curious doe eyes. Slowly, Jeongguk extends his hand out, thinking Snowball needs time to get used to him like some cats do, but no. She’s friendly and extroverted, getting out of the bed to welcome Jeongguk with an excited soft-tone trill.

It’s heartwarming watching her melt into his touch, purring and climbing into Jeongguk’s lap the more he pets her on all of her favorite spots.

“You’ve been accepted,” you muse, crossing your arms over your stomach in hopes that by pushing on it, that buttery, gooey, sugary feeling will go away.

“Yay,” Jeongguk cheers cutely. “What’s her name?”

“Snowball.”

“Snowball!” He coos. “You are the cutest ever!” Jeongguk leans down to tell her, slight aegyo in his tone. The rounded tip of his nose brushes the top of her small head

No, you are, is what zings through your mind but don’t tell Snowball you thought that.

Since your knees start screaming at you to get up, you leave Jeongguk and Snowball to go check on the kettle which is at its very end of boiling the water. You get up on your tiptoes to pull out two white mugs and before grabbing your go-to peach green tea packets, you ask Jeongguk.

“Tea or coffee?”

Jeongguk looks up from Snowball curled on his lap, the body of a bright grin on his lips. “Coffee please.” When you nod, he goes back to petting the white feline without another care.

His adorable politeness removes any nerves you had or any prior sheepishness from the way your studio apartment looks. Small and decorated with all of your interests. The only people that have ever been here are your mother, Jeongyeon and Nayeon. Hookups were always at their place or a hotel so it’s a little odd to see Jeongguk seated on your floor.

But at the same time, it’s Jeongguk on your floor so you aren’t that worried.

Pouring the mugs with steaming hot water, you grab a packet of instant coffee while your tea bag steeps and you make Jeongguk his coffee. In the meantime, he’s seated by your coffee table/desk, shrugging his backpack off while Snowball sits beside Jeongguk diligently. Like she’s protecting him from whatever she thinks is going to attack him.

“I like your place,” Jeongguk says, shocking you for a moment. “It’s very,” he trails off. “Very you.”

You give him a dulled look over your shoulder. “What do you mean by that?”

“You know, it’s got all of your favorite things.” His chin gestures to the Sanrio stuffed animals, the various figurines from all of your favorite animes, the vintage posters, the bunny paraphernalia, all of your favorite things, like Jeongguk said.

You turn, pressing the small of your back to the cold counter behind you. “Your place is nice too,” you add for the sake of returning the compliment, although it is true.

Jeongguk shakes his head. “Yeah but, my landlord is a gaping asshole and hates the idea of posters and paintings since he’s scared it’ll fuck up the wall. It’s nice but it feels dead,” he gives your apartment one more look, “but yours has some personality, you know? I’m kinda jealous.”

His smile is genuine, sweet and kind. You find yourself melting from the sheer sight of it but you hold yourself back. Don’t want to look too whipped.

Exhaling with some laughter, you start bringing the mugs over along with some biscuits since it’s tea time. “The first apartment we had when we moved here was like that. The landlord didn’t even let my mom change the curtains even though the ones that came with the place had stains all over it.” Jeongguk grimaces at the thought. “But Mrs. Jeong from our Busan apartment was so nice.”

What a sweet woman. She would often come down whenever she heard one of them had a cold or if there was a birthday and she was never harsh when your mother’s checks bounced or if she needed an extra day because she hadn’t gotten paid yet. She was the reason you thought all landlords had some semblance of empathy but no.

“We lived there for about fifteen years. It sucked having to leave.”

“Oh my god, I didn’t know you moved out!” You gasp, shifting yourself to face him completely. “Is your current place closer to the bakery?”

“No, it’s actually farther but it’s closer to the center of Busan so public transport is good. Plus, noona got a car so it’s not too bad.”

You sigh. Fuck, you miss Busan so much. Even hearing the slight satoori in Jeongguk’s voice does wonders for your nostalgia as yours only peeks out when you’re angry thanks to teasing from all of the Seoul elitists.

The beach, the food, the fresh air, the streets, you miss all of it. Such a simple time. You’ve always dreamed of settling there once you’ve figured your life out. It was your end goal.

“I wanna hear more but let’s get physics out of the way first,” you tap your notebook twice and Jeongguk moves to his backpack to take some items out to start the tutoring session.

And, to no one’s shock, Jeongguk is actually a really great tutor.

He’s patient with you and doesn’t mind giving you constant encouragement when you get a bit insecure halfway through a word problem. On concepts you’re unsure about, Jeongguk explains them in the simplest way possible without getting haughty. No outbursts if you make the same mistake two times in a row, he never once calls you stupid or says you’re wasting his time. Jeongguk gently coaches you until you try to solve some problems on your own from the textbook without his help and he checks them afterwards, telling you what you did right and wrong.

Quite literally, this is all that you wanted.

Someone to answer your questions, explain a few concepts, and walk you through a couple of examples without questioning your smarts as a whole.

It’s nice. You feel safe and even better, you feel actually prepared for the quiz which is the opposite of how you felt this morning. You aren’t even worried about it at all.

After clearing through the sample quiz and practice problems easily in a matter of about 2 ½ hours, you two are all done tutoring. Which means freedom for the rest of the night.

Quickly, you connect your laptop to the small TV mounted on the wall and put on Love Island since neither of you have watched it. Jeongguk is rather curious about it since Jimin and Taehyung won’t stop talking about it, so you decide to jump into the newest season with him while leaning against your bed and pulling up the menu for the fried chicken place.

“I’m getting honey garlic,” you tell him when you hand him your phone.

“Then, I’ll do the spicy cheese one.” He leans closer instead of taking the device and you really wish he didn’t because your body reacts to the proximity with goosebumps erupting all over you like you’re a teenager again.

Your eyes flick up to his side profile, which is literally perfect. His jaw is strong, well cut, defined and his skin is the color of fresh milk tea. You can see little imperfections on his skin like old acne scars, the slightly chapped surface of his lips, and all of his shiny earrings. You love the way he looks and how Jeongguk has grown into his features. The urge to trace his jawline with your tongue is insane, almost caustic inside of you. It’s impossible to push down. You sort of dressed up for this tutoring date, throwing on a pair of your favorite panties, lathering yourself in the softest lotion; you took all of the right steps and you’re hungry for a certain ending even though there’s a high chance it won’t happen at all. The horny side of you is begging for you to shoot your shot.

But you stop. Not yet. Not right now.

While Jeongguk picks out drinks, appetizers and the dessert he wants, you rush to the bathroom for a second. In the mirror, you take notice of your reddened cheeks and parted lips and the messy wisps of hair sticking out. You quickly tie it back into a loose braid and then splash some water on your face.

Reel it back, bitch.

While in the bathroom, you call out. “Hey Jeongguk? Could you get my wallet? It’s on top of my dresser, the one next to my closet.” Might as well pay now so you can get the chicken faster.

“Okay!” He responds.

The noise your stomach makes is loud and painful. The salad you had did nothing to satiate your cravings so the thought of chicken, perfectly fried to a crisp and covered in garlicky sweet sauce has you practically salivating. Especially since you’ve been eating so healthily as of late. It’s nice to treat yourself to some fast food.

Afterwards, you trudge back on over to the coffee table and plop down silently while Jeongguk puts in your card information. Meanwhile, you remember to feed Snowball for dinner and give her some much needed attention by bringing her to sit with the two of you so she can be pet and loved.

Jeongguk’s warmth emanates from his shoulder that is inches away from you while the Love Island intro song plays at the start of every new season. Half-heartedly, you watch the corny antics as each contestant introduces themselves with the main host speaking over and you think about how much internal anguish you’re feeling at the moment.

An object prods into your forearm. You look down to see the rounded edge of your credit card. “I paid,” Jeongguk tells you. You don’t respond verbally, taking the plastic and shoving it into the slot of your card wallet.

“Thanks,” you mumble. You bring your knees up to your chest and rest your chin on top of them, hoping to get into the various shirtless tattooed guys on your television screen. It’s an easy task. Shows like Love Island don’t ask too much of you but you can get into it enough where other thoughts begin to fade.

You check your phone to see that the chicken should be delivered in about 10 minutes. Then you can have food and TV to reward you for all of your hard work.

The beginning is awkward as each person picks their couple purely based on looks and their name. You cringe when a guy comes in and no one steps up to match with him so he has to randomly choose a girl who was either too shy to step up to say she thinks he’s cute or not at all interested in him. It sounds like such an awkward place to be in and you’d hate to be on either side of the situation.

Jeongguk, on the other hand, isn’t a reality TV kind of guy. So he has a million questions and comments throughout the 57 minute episode.

“I don’t get it. They just shove 10 hot people in a house and they have to like each other?”

“Fuck, that’s how you’re supposed to say Leicester?”

“That one guy looks like such a fuck boy. Why would you ever get a chest tattoo of an eagle?”

“What happens if you don’t like anyone you match with? Can you just leave?” You shrug in response. This is your first time watching this show too. “I’d leave so fast if I was on this show. None of these people would interest me.”

“Me too,” you respond, playing with the frayed edge of an old receipt sticking out of one of the wallet pockets. “I’d get the ick so fast and then hop on the first plane back home.”

Jeongguk’s bantering turns the simple binge into something more. You start laughing, indulging his every whim, making fun of the guys trying too hard to flirt and seem suave and it’s really fun. You manage to barely remember the way you felt when you came out of the bathroom.

Is this how it should always be? Platonically hanging out?

Was it a good thing that you stopped yourself before your desires took over your logic?

You don’t know. You don’t want to either. You just want to sit back and enjoy the rest of this lovely day off.

After another few minutes of watching the show, you feel Jeongguk’s eyes on you. Wide, glittery, washing over every inch of your skin like he’s trying to commit your features to memory. You raise an eyebrow in question. For a moment, he doesn’t do anything, just stares at you, and then he points to your phone screen where a notification from the delivery app shows.

The food is here.

Quickly, you go down, slipping some slides on your feet and shoving your hands in the pockets of your sweater. The delivery person hands you the plastic bag with steaming boxes and you thank them before trundling back upstairs. The smell that wafts to you is mouth-wateringly delicious.

This. This is your treat after a grueling two weeks of school.

You bring it up for you and Jeongguk to dig into. The chicken is fresh and delicious and in combination with Jeongguk’s commentary, you start to really enjoy yourself. Especially as all your sex related thoughts begin to push to the back of your brain and the night gets more fun yet relaxing. The food is good and the drinks are refreshing.

Afterwards, you crack open a bag of kit kats to share with him to cap off the meal with something sweet since none of the desserts at the restaurant sounded appealing to either of you.

Love Island is addictive. Your friends were right about it. Two episodes later and the two of you are curious about who is the new islander coming and how they are going to shake things up.

The TV is on the wall mounted across your bed and coffee table. For the sake of your backs, you move Jeongguk to the bed and take some pillows to lean against so your backs aren’t completely sore by the next morning.

Although, you do wish your back was sore for another reason but let’s not get into that just yet.

Since you don’t have a lot of pillows, you share your main one, meaning you’re a lot closer to Jeongguk than you originally planned. To the point where your arms are pressed against each other and your legs are brushing. It makes you nervous to be this close. His perfume is a strong elixir, heady and comforting, pushing you to lean in and bury your face into the delectable skin of his neck. Even his neck, wow. The skin is so smooth, there’s a mole right in the middle of it. You want to sink your teeth into the flesh and use your lips and tongue to paint it all sorts of beautiful colors.

Sweat begins to form on your hairline. You get nervous with Jeongguk sitting so close to you, hands itching to do something. First they play around with the single star pendant on your necklace, then at a loose thread on your comforter, and then you decide to redo your hair.

The braid has become a straggly mess with you leaned against things so you pull your hair tie off and begin to undo your braid. At the very least, it is something for your hands to do, keep them occupied and away.

From Jeongguk that is. You don’t want to obstruct his view or break his attention.

Pushing off from the pillow, suddenly something happens on screen that makes your head turn abruptly to see who said what and your hair wacks Jeongguk right in the eye.

“Shit,” he hisses, clutching his face, curling inwards.

You begin to panic, turning in on your knees to get closer to him.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I was trying to tie my hair and then something happened on screen so I–” you stop midway, no need for an explanation. Instead, check to see if your hair scratches him in the cornea or not.

Jeongguk’s legs, that were once crossed, are now spread wide without your body taking up the space next to him on your bed. Without a second thought, you cross over the one closest to you and end up in between his two long legs. One hand on his shoulder to grab his attention.

“Are you okay?” You ask worriedly, trying to search his gaze but Jeongguk’s eyes are turned down. “Jeongguk?”

Muffled, he speaks up. “Y-yeah. I’m fine.” Jeongguk drops his hands onto his thighs before blinking a few times and you see a telltale tear pool from his big doe eyes, dripping down the slope of his cheek.

A huge wave of guilt crashes inside of you.

You made Jeongguk cry.

Not intentionally but still. He’s crying.

“Aw,” you cup his cheeks, searching his irises for anything like you’re a licensed ophthalmologist or something, wiping the stray tear with your thumb.“I’m really sorry. Do you need eye drops or anything?” You sit down on your feet, leaning closer to see him. “I can go check in my medicine box if I have any left from Spring.”

He doesn’t respond.

Jeongguk freezes immediately with you between his legs. As if all of his blood stops flowing through his veins and he’s turned to stone by Medusa. He glances at every corner of your face, at the strands of hair framing it, like he’s never seen you before. His jaw unhinges and the tip of his pink tongue is just barely visible.

You don’t even notice how close you get. So worried about the possibility of your hair scratching his cornea that you forget that your knees are brushing against his crotch. Nor do you think about how your face is near, you’re literally staring down like you’re about to kiss him despite dreaming about being in this position all day.

The only thing echoing in your mind is: Is Jeongguk okay?

Not another thought.

“I–” he stops, lips parted, “I’m okay, really.”

Jeongguk’s palm gently pushes your hands off of his cheeks and he shifts in his spot.

He’s practically shielding himself for you. His legs are pushed up to his chest now. Jeongguk looks like an animal that’s getting scolded for spilling food everywhere and you cannot understand why on earth he’d be making a face like that.

“Is something wrong?” You ask. Jeongguk covers his face but you can see his ears starting to turn red.

You inch closer to him and gently wrap your fingers around his wrist. You’re so close you can smell the gentle perfume he’s sprayed on his neck and the inviting scent of his hair serum. But he’s wriggling around like a fish out of water and it’s scaring you.

His hands move down, ripping his wrist out of your grip to cover up his crotch and you see a glimpse of the obvious bulge poking from his sweatpants.

Oh.

You recoil, muscles tightening as your brain moves a mile a minute. Something Jeongguk must sense from you because he starts explaining way faster than you thought he would.

“I’m sorry! This is–I can leave if you’d like–”

“It’s okay, Jeongguk,” you mumble. Your voice is soft.

It’s okay. It’s more than okay.

It’s better than okay.

Jeongguk continues to panic, deaf to your obvious nonchalance about him popping a boner right after you almost blinded him. “I don’t–It just sort of happened-and-and I wasn’t like–thinking a-about you or doing anything–it just,” he pauses midway, sighs to catch his breath, stops nervously stuttering, and then turns to get up which makes you a little nervous. “I’ll go to the bathroom and get rid of it–”

In a flash, your hand wraps around his wrist to stop him from moving.

“It’s okay,” you repeat. “I’m not grossed out.” Literally, you are the complete opposite of that but barely you mull it over one last time before speaking up again. “I could fix it, if you’d like.” Just before your conscience could stop you.

This is it. This is your chance to have him. Just once, satiate that need, and then you can go back to normal.

The universe practically handed you this opportunity on a golden platter so you should take it. Given that Jeongguk is down too.

His eyes go adorably wide. “W-what?” Jeongguk stutters.

“I could help you deal with it.” You say once more.

At least your voice is clear and sure. On the inside, you’re just a giant piece of adrenaline.

Jeongguk relaxes some more, gulping, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob. His shoulders broaden like he’s trying to seem confident but you can tell that he’s nervous as fuck too.

“Why would you do that?”

Oh, you pretty thing. You have no idea, do you?

“I don’t mind,” you shrug. Feeling bold, the hand that rests on his shoulder squeezes the mass indulgently and Jeongguk feels exquisite. You want to rip all of these clothes off of his body. “You helped me with physics so,” trailing off, as if it’s the only logical solution to this problem.

To you, it feels like it is. Trade an A on a quiz for an orgasm.

Plus, you finally get to rid yourself of this intense sexual tension building inside of you. A combination of your hormones and your loneliness all cooked up to make a touch-starved mess at the tiniest thing. Being with Jeongguk could be just what you need to get your focus back on yourself. He’s gorgeous, inside and out, so there’s no intense guilt to bubble from letting some douchebag grow an even bigger ego by sleeping with you.

Jeongguk is still apprehensive. “You… you know you don’t-like-owe it to me to fix this, right? Just because I got hard doesn’t mean it’s your job to do something for me.”

You’re taken aback.

Most guys wouldn’t have even protested. Your mouth would be on his dick and the minute they come, you’d be all alone. They’re the types to view sex in a very individualistic manner.

A dopey smile makes its way to your lips. “I know. This isn’t a really transactional thing.” You cup his cheek with one hand this time and trace the deep scar there absentmindedly. “I actually want to do this.”

If Jeongguk were to hear the insane things your brain produces, you wonder if he’d run for the hills or be flattered. Definitely the former.

“Okay but um,” he avoids your eyes, looking off to the side and you sort of love Jeongguk like this. It’s so different from his nonchalant easygoing behavior. “I’ve never,” he searches for the words, changes his mind halfway through, and finds another path. “No one has ever like-oh god this is embarrassing–”

You decide to save him. “No one’s ever given you a blowjob?”

He nods behind his hands that rose to cover his reddening face during his reveal. God, he’s adorable.

“Really?”

“Is that such a surprise?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re hot.” You say truthfully. His change of expression does wonders for your confidence. So much so that you decide to bite the bullet and run a hand through his hair affectionately. “How far have you gone?”

The strands are silky smooth, flowing through your fingers like water, and Jeongguk’s eyes flutter shut at the sensation as he mumbles out a response.

“I kissed someone but only a few times. I got dragged to a high school party and played spin the bottle but nothing more than that.”

This is new for you. Almost every guy you’ve ever been with is experienced or way more experienced than you. From the guy in high school who took your virginity all the way to Wooshik. And they varied from vanilla guys to those who are super into the dom/sub spiel. You’ve never been the experienced one and it feels different.

Like you’re corrupting him, forcibly taking away something precious. Like Mrs. Robinson on the prowl for someone younger whom she can use to her advantage.

And even though that isn’t the case with you and Jeongguk, you want this to be different than your first time. If anything, you want him to feel safe and wanted and to let him know that, at any point, if he wants to stop then it will stop. Just like there’s no obligation for you to make him feel good, there is no obligation for him to return the favor.

“Then let’s start with that and then we can move on if you’re comfortable. Or we don’t have to do anything and we can just forget about it. Whatever you want.”

You won’t do anything unless he wants you to. As much as you want to touch him, as much as you need sex, you’re totally fine with taking things at his pace.

And if he rejects this entire thing and opts to fix his situation in the bathroom, that’s okay too.

Jeongguk presses the back of his head against the wall in thought, giving you an amazing view of his jawline, until he shyly speaks. “Okay.”

“Okay?” You want to be sure, hiding the fact that you are utterly elated on the inside. Jeongguk just turns more red as he avoids your eyes peering into him.

“You–we can start. I-if that’s what you want.”

You exhale through your nose. “Oh, you have no idea how much I want to.”

Before he can question you, you lean down and gently connect your lips with his.

There’s a moment where it feels foreign, where your body becomes covered with goosebumps at the sheer adrenaline coursing through you and the way your brain freaks out at the change. This is happening, you’re finally doing this, but you take a second to just press and feel. Be in the moment and stop trying to control everything, then you’re fine.

It’s easy because Jeongguk’s lips are pillowy soft.

Starting off with a quick peck, you split for a second, nose brushing, and then you kiss Jeongguk again. This time it’s much stronger. Any lack of confidence melts when your lips move languidly against Jeongguk. He’s responsive to your every movement, feeling the inside of your mouth with his own, while his hands rest appropriately on your hips. His lip balm is rose flavored and delectable. Jeongguk is a good kisser.

The noises fill the quiet apartment as you move closer and cup his jaw on one side while your other hand goes back to his silky soft hair to move your lips cohesively. You adjust yourself so that instead of kneeling between his legs, you’re straddling his thick muscular thighs and they feel exquisite against you, pulling a soft sigh from your lips.

Jeongguk must feel your exhale, gaining some bravado to take the lead when he kisses you, setting the pace as his own hands begin to move from their comfortable spot on your hips. Part of you really wants to push them down to your ass to feel those big sexy hands grab a handful but you want to wait to see what he does.

He kisses you a little wet but wanton, igniting a deep burning flame inside of you. It’s bright, hot, and you can’t pull yourself away from him the more your lips collide, suckle, and slot.

Jeongguk’s hands begin tracing up your back with a feather-light touch, and your lips part at the feeling when he unexpectedly inches his tongue into your mouth.

Looks like he wasn’t lying when he said he’s kissed before.

Crackles of pleasure bubble in you. Kissing can turn you on, if the guy is good at what he does, and Jeongguk is doing just that. That throbbing sensation takes over and you find yourself clenching around nothing, dreaming of having something just fill you just how you like. His tongue tangles with yours. The kiss starts to get much sloppier, something you didn’t realize you were craving until now, and you rise up on your knees while gently tugging on his hair in a flash of atypical roughness on your end.

Your mind refuses to process that this is Jihyo’s little brother who is kissing you silly. Right now, he’s Jeongguk.

Jeongguk with the gorgeous eyes and the gorgeous body who got hard the moment you inched closer.

You decide to grind down on him, especially when the curve of his bulge becomes more prominent against your ass, and Jeongguk muffles a noise into your mouth. The fabric of your underwear drags across your neglected clit, pulling another sigh out of you. It’s a small jolt of pleasure and you can feel yourself dampen even more. From the action and from the way Jeongguk sounds.

Another moan comes from Jeongguk when you grind against him again and again, whiny yet soft. It’s doing something to you. His hands squeeze your hips and then one drifts to the back of your thigh.

Pulling away to catch your breath, you press your forehead against his. There’s a thin layer of sweat building on your skin but your arms loop comfortably around Jeongguk’s neck, tugging his body forwards. His eyes glimmer at you, with kiss-bruised lips and the beginnings of his pearly white bunny teeth peeking out from between. You resist the urge to dive down again, instead wanting to appreciate the absolute view you have right now.

Your fingers tangle in a lock of his soft black hair. “You’re so gorgeous,” you whisper, taking in his forehead, his jawline, his perfect nose, and every single one of his moles.

Jeongguk, who is already blushed and heavily breathing, gets even more shy at your compliment, looking away from you to avoid your teasing smile. Which just makes you want to shower him in more praise just to see how embarrassed he can get.

“So pretty, so handsome,” your finger traces his jaw before going down to his unblemished neck where the skin looks so soft but the area is taut and beautiful. You want to see how he’d look with hickeys. “I want to mark you,” you point to the middle of the right side of his neck, “right here.”

Jeongguk’s eyebrows raise to his hairlines. “You want to give me a hickey?” He says incredulously. You nod.

“I want you to remember this.”

Usually, you aren’t the possessive type but you think about Juri, walking through campus and finding Jeongguk, someone that she’s expressed interest in, like this. Covered in marks you left, reeling after the pleasure you gave him. You know the chance is unlikely and if Jeongguk were to run into her, you doubt he’d tell her any bit of what you two had done but it’s the principle of it all.

That she can be a misogynistic pick-me/not-like-the-other girl all she wants, you still pull better than she ever will.

Maybe then, she’ll keep your name out of her damn mouth.

Jeongguk exhales quietly, holding some weight. “Do you actually think I’ll forget this?”

You smirk. “Dunno, but I can’t let a pretty little thing like you get away, can I? Especially with all of those other girls who love to stare.”

It happens often whenever you two would be walking from class or on public transport and people would stare at Jeongguk. Not that you’d blame them. With a face like that, Jeongguk could debut as an idol and win the hearts of millions, he could act or model even, but then you become more aware of the fact that someone even better could scoop him up at any time and you wouldn’t stand a chance against them.

“I won’t,” he starts, shaking his head with eyes so honest and truthful that you almost collapse in his hold. “I won’t go away and I won’t forget, okay?” Jeongguk pleads with you, holding your body still with two exact hands on your hips.

You swear your stomach feels a group of butterflies flapping about, along with unicorns and rainbows and glitter and all of that silly shit when Jeongguk says that. The hand in his hair cups his cheek, thumb tracing his cheekbone.

“You won’t?”

“Never,” Jeongguk presses firmly. “And,” he hesitates for a moment, “and I’m not looking at anyone else right now, either. There’s just you.”

There’s just you.

The sentence sounds like a confession. Like he’s being honest while you were just being horny and possessive. You feel your act drop, whatever front you were putting up, it drops, and you don’t know what to say at first.

The truth? You aren’t thinking about anyone else either. You don’t want to. You want Jeongguk. There’s only Jeongguk right now.

Had this been with any other person, you wouldn’t feel comfortable being honest with them. You wouldn’t trust them not to use that against you but you know Jeongguk and you trust Jeongguk more than anything.

“I… I’m not looking at anyone either,” you manage to mumble out. Now you’re the one who is all red and shy.

And watching Jeongguk’s expression change when you said that… priceless.

He stares at you like you hung all of the stars in the sky, that you push the sun up in the sky every morning, like the dew droplets on the blades of grass, like it was just you.

It’s perfect yet so much at the same time. You want to say more but you don’t know what else you could say so you meet his gaze, then dip down to his lips, and he nods so you lean in to kiss him again.

He makes a noise of surprise, immediately licking fiercely into your mouth to meet the movements of your lips. Slowly, Jeongguk pulls away from the wall and begins moving down to lay against the bed, holding himself up with a forearm on the soft material and strengthening his hold on you so you wouldn’t slip off from him.

You feel Jeongguk grin against your lips at your eagerness but he maintains the energy. Arching your back a little, mostly for show, you reach back and push one of Jeongguk’s hands further down to your ass. He’s been so careful and gentle with you so far and, as nice as it is, you want more. His eyebrows furrow against you, curling his palm over the tangible curve before giving your ass a tentative squeeze and pulling a muffled moan from you.

So Jeongguk does it again. Does it with more vigor, digging his fingers into the flesh of your cheek and grinding his hips upwards. Gets you throbbing insufferably and so wet.

“Jeongguk,” you gasp into his mouth, meeting the movement of his hips with your own. The bulge in his pants becomes really prominent as you break the kiss, moving down his strong jawline to his perfect neck.

Whatever perfume he uses, the smell is strong now, filling your olfactory senses with sweet powdery softness. Your lips search for that spot you ache to mark, digging your teeth into the gentle flesh and soothing the area over with your tongue.

The noise he makes…

Jeongguk whimpered when you were sucking and biting on his skin.

It took so much willpower for you to not rip his damn top off when that sound reached your ears. You were so wet and throbbing in your pants, desperate for some form of touch besides your soaked underwear against your clit. If you could, you’d cover his entire body with hickeys, paint his neck all sorts of beautiful colors if it were socially acceptable for someone to be walking around like that and not have everyone’s immediate thought be that he got jumped or something.

But you practice restraint and suck on the hot skin, kissing, and doing your best to keep yourself under control even if your wetness was starting to become bothersome. Jeongguk’s hands on your ass don’t help with that either.

The hold helps you feel the shape of his fingers which are pretty long and thick. You’ve seen them writing, typing, gripping onto the pole in the subway so the veins and tendons pop out and you’ve reached a conclusion that you need to feel them inside of you. Pumping deep and slow. Since the digits are longer than yours, they would reach that damned spot inside, turn you into a shaking, coming, mess. You crave that.

Even before Wooshik, these dry spells weren’t uncommon. You know that it’s just your monthly horror revving up the hormones that’s making you want some dick like water in a desert but still.

A girl has her needs. Especially when said girl is constantly hanging around a hot guy.

Once you pull away from his neck after creating a total of three hickeys, you sit up. All of the kissing and petting and grinding has made you all sweaty so you quickly pull off your quarter-zip hoodie, leaving the plain t-shirt you have on underneath with no bra.

Jeongguk’s eyes fall to the way your breasts lift and fall with the movement, jiggling into place as you throw the piece of clothing somewhere. The change in temperature has your nipples straining against the thin material and you can tell his attention has shifted.

With a cocked brow, you smirk. “Want my shirt off?” You ask, slowly twisting the hem around a single finger.

“Yeah.”

His hands give your ass another appreciative squeeze. One that nearly has you dropping the control but you rebuild quickly.

“Take this off then.” You place a hand down on the base of his stomach. Jeongguk’s shirt is thin so you can feel his stomach through the fabric. You need it off asap.

Jeongguk’s lips part. You think he’s going to deny at first. Maybe he isn’t comfortable showing you his body yet. That’s okay; you don’t mind. Whatever he’s comfortable with, right?

But in a split second, he grips the gray fabric and sits up slightly to peel it off of his body and gives you a view of what he has underneath.

Which is just exquisite.

Jeongguk treats his body like it’s a work of art. When he isn’t gaming or studying, he’s in the gym and he has one of the strictest meal plans you ever see. Allowing himself one cheat meal out of the week and then sticking to his rice, steamed veggie and lean meats for the rest of the days. And that dedication shows in the way his body looks.

While still being thin and put together, his stomach is defined with steel-cut abs and his obliques are enviable along with sturdy shoulders, firm chest and deliciously bulky arms.

You’ve never really cared about the body of whoever you were sleeping with. Muscles are nice and hot but they aren’t a necessity. Honestly, having a handsome/pretty face can get a guy farther than a six pack but now you might be changing your mind on that stance. Because Jeongguk has a pretty face and a six pack.

Or is that a twelve pack? You didn’t really count.

A single finger starts at Jeongguk’s sternum, tracing down his body to the waistband of his sweats, taking your time to appreciate every patch of skin and flesh. You inch backwards so you are sitting more on his thighs than his lap where his bulge is firmly straining against his pants. Looking all inviting. Your thighs clench together to relieve yourself from the lack of attention.

But before you can wrap your hands around him, Jeongguk’s fingers close around your wrist to stop you.

“You said if I took my shirt off, you would too,” he reminds you. His tone is low, barely teetering into a domineering one. Brings a rush of arousal to your pussy and you immediately bite the inside of your cheek.

Jeongguk ordering you around is… really hot.

“Eager.”

The plain t-shirt is rather unflattering on the outside so you do away with it quickly, feeling the mass of your breasts lift and bounce back down while adjusting to the temperature change. Your nipples are hard and goosebumps cover your upper body.

But that’s mainly caused by the way Jeongguk’s eyes practically ravish you.

You wonder if he’s more of an ass guy or a boob guy. Because his grip has stayed on the plump curve of your backside but his tongue swipes over his bottom lip while staring at your tits like he’s at the Louvre and he has two seconds to take a glance at the Mona Lisa.

There’s a sense of vulnerability to have him look at you like this. Like you’re something perfect when all everyone else, including yourself, does is point out your faults.

It’s too much. You need to make a move, get his eyes off of you, so your hand goes back to the waistline of his pants where his boxer band flashes quickly. Calvin Klein, black in color to match the color of his sweatpants.

“Can I?” You ask, looking down at the heavy print showing through the material and your mouth waters.

Jeongguk nods immediately. “Please.”

Carefully, you peel back the first layer of clothing. The tight elastic pressure around his waist is enough to slowly peel back Jeongguk’s boxers, exposing the beginning of his ilium but then he raises his hips some more until his sweatpants are pushed a little past the beginning of his quad muscles. You desperately want to see the sinew on his legs because you’ve been feeling them flex and move against you this entire time and they are just to your expectations. His skin is soft, a little tanned, thin hairs barely visible on his thighs from the hallowed light.

“What do you want? My hand or my mouth?”

You said a blowjob but whatever he wants, you will do.

His eyes darken with lust. “Y-your hand, first,” Jeongguk stutters, shaking some hair off his sweaty forehead. You try not to smile excitedly at the word first.

“Okay.”

After pressing one more kiss on his perfect nose, your palm cups his bulge. Against the material, you can see somewhat of a defined shape. It’s thick, impressive looking, and your wetness is soaking through your pants, effectively ruining the pair but that’s the least of your concerns. You fight the urge to grind into something, relieve some of the throbbing pressure from your core, clenching around nothing in hopes that it will fix.

Jeongguk says your name carefully, checking to see if you’re still okay with continuing and your attention is back on him. You give him a wry smile in response and then work on slowly tugging his boxers off of his hips to free his cock.

You gasp when his length slaps against his bare stomach, incapable of holding it in.

He’s big and thick; bigger and thicker than any guy you’ve ever been with. Jeongguk’s dick is pretty. Two veins trailing up the sides and pulsating with blood, the tip peeking with a small droplet of pearly white pre-cum.

“Fuck,” you curse, reaching a hand forward to barely wrap around him. Your fingers manage to encompass the whole circumference but you can only accredit that to your long digits. Otherwise he would be too girthy.

Jeongguk’s eyes flutter shut when you pump his length once. His jawline strains sexily as little puffs of air escape his lips. He looks so good when he’s pleased. As if he was made to only look like that. The emotion sits perfectly on his pretty features.

A bead of pearly white fluid seeps from the stop, collecting slightly over the flesh-toned head. You lick your lips. “I don’t think you’ll fit in my mouth.”

“W-what?” He stammers.

“You’re too big, baby,” you purr, panicking momentarily about the pet name. “Shit,” swearing under your breath when you feel him twitch. Then, you let a fat drop of spit fall from your mouth and onto the head to aid your hand gliding up and down. “My throat will definitely be sore tomorrow.”

Not that you’re complaining.

The boy beneath you flushes. “I–” his breathing quickening when your hand works over him expertly, barely a moan. “You–um–you don’t have to,” Jeongguk offers.

You coo, reaching forward to boop Jeongguk’s cute little nose with your free hand, still slowly jerking his cock with the other, giving the fat length a nice squeeze at the base. “But I want to,” forcing a pout and watching his gaze turn heady with euphoria. “Don’t you want me to use my mouth? To suck you off nice and properly?”

This is new for you. You are usually rather submissive in bed and you’ve always liked it that way. If anything, you sought after guys who were more dominant because it was an immediate turn-on for you but now that you’ve made Jeongguk all pliant and soft, you can’t stop. He just looks so perfect. His eyes clench shut, creases appearing at the sides when your hands squeeze his length teasingly on the upstroke, legs going more rigid.

Jeongguk doesn’t respond at first so you lean down, holding yourself up with one hand splayed on the mattress, right next to his head, and increase the pace of your hand. You pay special attention to the tip and the spot right under where he’s sensitive, rubbing a thumb over the area to collect more precum on the way down his cock. Jeongguk sputters out a soft noise, gritting his teeth tightly.

“You have to tell me what you want, Jeongguk,” you muse. The tips of your noses graze, your breasts meeting his hot skin. Jeongguk’s hands, which switched to curling into the fabric of your duvet, go to your thighs to squeeze them. At that point, you decide to only stimulate the head of his cock with the pad of your thumb, rubbing teasingly tight circles while Jeongguk leaks all over, rivulets of creamy white decorating his length. “My hands? Or my mouth? What do you want me to do?”

Jeongguk goes crazy. His back arches off the mattress along with a high whine emitting from his swollen lips. He looks so overwhelmed with red cheeks and his hands gripping onto your body like it’s a lifeline.

“Y-your mouth! I want your mouth, please,” he whines once more, digging his nails into your thighs, surely leaving indents. You smile, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips before descending down his taut body.

Jeongguk is a work of art after all and you need time to appreciate him.

Your hands stop their tortuous movement, leaving Jeongguk’s cock to hold yourself up while inching down. You kiss down the right side of his neck. The skin is salty from sweat but you don’t mind. You kiss all the marks you left, the mole on his chest, the beginning of his abs (you pay special attention to this area), licking up a stripe to feel the ridges of his body before you end up on your knees in between his legs.

While you were kissing him, Jeongguk kicked his sweatpants off his legs, allowing you to capture a full glimpse of his meaty thighs. His skin is flawless and soft looking and you bookmark the thought of leaving red lines atop his thighs while riding him like a fucking stallion for later.

His length deliciously twitches again from the brief lack of touch. You eye it for a split second, mouth watering, before taking the head between your lips. He throws his head back in satisfaction.

Jeongguk tastes good. A mix of skin, salt, but he isn’t bitter; soft, pliable skin meets the plush membrane in your mouth. You moan out while your tongue circles the head, awarding you with a fresh spurt of pre-cum.

Giving head isn’t everyone’s favorite (totally understandable) but it’s definitely yours. You don’t know why, maybe you have an oral fixation that you don’t know about, but it always makes you wet and desperate for more. Especially when the guy you’re blowing has hot moans like Jeongguk does.

“Fuck,” he drawls out, while your tongue moves over him. He wraps a hand around the back of your hair gently, barely pushing you down to take more of him into your mouth.

Ideally, you’d punish Jeongguk for that. If you were continuing this dominatrix stint you have going on then he shouldn’t be pushing you and trying to choke you but you drop the whole act.

Because he feels so good.

Your wetness is trickling down the swell of your ass as more of your mouth stretches to accommodate his length. The back of his head is about to reach the back of your throat when you wrap a hand around to pump what you can’t reach. It’ll be impossible to take him all in one go. You need to warm up first. Fat rivulets of spit trail down to his base and collect there to ease your ministrations.

“So good,” Jeongguk praises, tangling his fingers in your hair while the wet sucking noises filter through your apartment. “You’re s-so good at this.”

Jeongguk’s low voice isn’t helping you. Another pathetically whiny noise is muffled by his big dick going back into your mouth, swallowing around the tip as you take a little more than before.

Swirling your mouth, using the inside of your cheek, the side of your tongue and the puckered membrane of your lips in conjunction with your nimble hands, jacking his thick cock and feeling the skin get hotter, wetter, with every second that passes by.

He’s probably big enough to make you squirt. Though, you are the type to squirt easily, but guys around his size tend to hit the g-spot head on, to turn you into a shaking, coming, moaning mess in their arms. The thought really gets you going, imagining yourself sinking down on him like a Queen perched on her throne and spilling all over his thighs with a loud noise.

Would he like it? Would he want to see you do it again?

Fuck, you need a little bit of friction here. The combination of sucking him off, Jeongguk’s breathy whiny noises, and the deranged thoughts in your brain make your pussy so needy, demanding attention.

You think about reaching back and rubbing yourself, just for a second, but your brain is too transfixed on Jeongguk.

“P-please don’t stop-p,” he begs, “Please–Ah, yes.” Sounding like he’s about to cry.

Your wrist flicks up during your motions while you pay special attention to the head. Jeongguk twitches some more and judging by how hard he grips your hair, he must be close.

So you make sure your tongue stimulates all of the areas that make Jeongguk quiver in your hold. Your back arches, suckling at the skin.

“Can I,” he interrupts himself with a moan, hands shaking, “Can I cum in your mouth?” He asks politely.

You pull off with a breathy sigh, moving your hand to respond. “Please.” You want to taste more of him, until he’s filling your throat up completely.

Sinking back down, you take in as much of him as you can, deep-throating his cock to the best of your abilities. It’s wet, the noises are filthy, salacious, but you don’t really care that much. Jeongguk’s cock twitches again as he spurts into your mouth, awarding you with his release as he whines throughout.

And like a good girl, you swallow every last drop, refusing to let even a tiny drop of it go to waste.

Jeongguk pants. His fingers slip out of your ratty hair and his hand slap over his forehead while he collects himself. His thighs shake with the aftershocks of his orgasm, sweat collected at the enticing dip of his collarbones, making his skin look like it’s speckled with diamonds. While you sit up slowly and wipe the back of your mouth, tucking his slowly softening length back into his boxers with a soft pat.

For a few seconds, he doesn’t say anything to you. All Jeongguk does is try to catch his breath, probably slow his heart rate a bit.

In that short period of time, your brain speeds at 100 miles per second. Did Jeongguk like it? Did Jeongguk hate it? Will he let you do it again? Oh my god, do you want to do it again and again and again. Is he uncomfortable around you now? What next?

Your thighs are folded under you, watching Jeongguk’s stomach tense and flex as he leans on his elbows to look at you.

His lips are adorable pouty and the hickeys look really pretty on his skin. You want so much more from him but you’re too afraid to vocalize it. You don’t want to stop. You don’t want to wake up and force this memory out of your brain. Jeongguk is so pretty and perfect and so easy to want.

“C’mere,” he says softly, exhaling quickly with a stupid grin. Unsure if he meant his lap or right next to him, you shuffle closer until Jeongguk pats the space next to his body and you move accordingly. Hands an knees on the bed like a slinking cat.

The air, which was once zinging with tension, has simmered down a little. Jeongguk’s arm stretches out for you to lean your head on his bicep. Up close, his eyes sparkle more than the stars in the night sky as Jeongguk pushes all of the loose strands of hair out of your sweaty face.

“You were really good,” he repeats. “Thank you for that.”

It feels weird to be thanked for sucking dick so you shake your head. “No need to thank me.” And because it doesn’t hurt to be truthful, you open your mouth once more. “I really wanted to.”

Jeongguk’s expression warms; his smile gets wider and his cheeks get rounder. His thumb traces the curve of your jaw, dancing over your features like he’s trying to commit them to memory again.

“So can I return the favor?”

Your heart leaps to your throat. You were sure Jeongguk was under the impression that this was a simple blowie, the end. Nothing else and nothing more. Even though you wanted more, you were ready to leave this romp at that but he proves you wrong once again.

You raise an eyebrow. “You want to?”

Most guys don’t. Most guys give up the second they cum without even offering.

But Jeongguk fucking smirks when he noticed your shocked expression. “I really want to,” he copies you.

Fuck, you think. You put on a nice pair of underwear thinking that this would happen and then the entire tutoring session you were gaslighting yourself into thinking that nothing would ever happen and now here you are.

There’s no doubt in your mind that you want this. Your panties are soaked and your core is aching to be touched. You need it so bad that you might never forgive yourself for turning this down.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Jeongguk repeats.

“Touch me. Please Jeongguk,” you plead with him, placing a soft hand on his warm chest. The breath is just about to escape you when he leans in to kiss you with his supple lips.

You almost cringe. You must taste like him and you’re sure that there’s still some moisture collected in the corner of your mouth but Jeongguk doesn’t care. He licks hotly into your mouth, taking control during the kiss which surprises you completely.

Gone is the shy whimpering boy who begged you not to stop. Jeongguk’s fingers squeeze your hips then pull one of your legs over his thighs so that you get even closer to him and your center is more exposed. That same hand travels upwards to your tits and cups the mass, and it’s your turn to shake in his hold.

He’s starting off perfectly, like he knows what moves drive you crazy just by looking at you.

You sigh softly when your lips break and he begins kissing down your neck. Unlike you, Jeongguk doesn’t leave any marks. Instead, he’s strategic about creating a clean line from your mouth, smooching along your jaw, then the side of your neck, to the middle of your collarbones before meeting your boobs. Jeongguk hauls you up the bed a little so he’s facing your chest instead, bringing your body closer with a splayed hand on your back.

“Jeongguk,” you try, unsure as to why you’re calling him out. Jeongguk pays you no attention, transfixed by your naked breasts. He expels something inaudible under his breath and then takes one of your nipples into his mouth while tweaking the other, causing your body to go rigid.

His lips wrap around the bud, sucking and circling his tongue over it while his other hand tweaks and pulls at the other. Like his tongue, his finger moves in time to turn you into a pile of mush. You grind onto nothing, wishing it was his thigh instead because you need friction from how wet and needy you’ve become in the span of like 20 minutes.

Moaning out at the feeling of him slowly stimulating you, Jeongguk switches to the other one until your nipples are left shiny, wet, and puffy from his lips and tongue.

He picks up fast, it seems. While kissing down your stomach, he asks you, “What do you want me to do?” Just like you did.

“Anything,” you respond. You don’t care what he does, you just want him to do something.

Jeongguk shakes his head. “Gotta give me a real answer,” he pulls up a little closer to your face, cupping your swollen bottom lip thanks to all of his work. “Tell me.”

“I,” you start. In all honesty, you wouldn’t mind anything from him. But you feel the length of his fingers, thick and perfect, and you remember your pressing desire of having them inside of you. “I want your fingers,” deciding on that.

He grins softly at how cute you become when you’re overwhelmed. Jeongguk doesn’t wait around any longer, fingers going to the waistline of your yoga pants and tugging them down slowly. They’re tight, sticking to you like a second skin, so they snag along the meat of your thighs. Jeongguk doesn’t seem to mind as the fabric bunches up into a little ring and you kick it off to a random spot on your floor.

Cold air meets your soaked underwear, making you cringe at the feeling, totally unaware of the way Jeongguk gapes at the flimsy little thing hugging your hips. He gently traces the band over your pelvis, almost like he’s hesitation.

You open your mouth, ready to check in to see if Jeongguk still wants to do this for you or not, but before you can, his fingers dip into your panties to feel just how wet you are from him.

His expression morphs beautifully. “You’re…” he’s speechless at first. Jeongguk’s finger trails up and down your center, barely grazing your sensitive clit.

A whimper escapes you. His touch is feather light and barely enough yet so much all at once.

“Fuck,” he groans, hiding his face into crook of your neck, soaking up all of your arousal while his ears and neck get bright red. You’d be embarrassed by the rushing gush coating you even more if Jeongguk’s thumb hadn’t stopped at your clit to draw tight, short, slow circles.

Such a gentle pace, way less intense than the bullet vibrator you’ve been using, and the pressure builds gradually. One of your hands wind in his hair and the other grips his bicep, openly feeling him up.

“Fucking soaked,” Jeongguk grits, moving his thumb a little faster.

Your eyes shut. “Oh J–” interrupted by a shaky noise spilling from your mouth. Jeongguk takes that as a good sign, deciding to torture you even further by moving his lips back to your stiffened nipples and using his tongue to suck and lick at them as if you aren’t already sensitive.

“You’re pretty too, noona,” Jeongguk says, looking at you this time. Slowly, your eyes peel open to find his big brown irises glimmering at you. “I think you’re beautiful. Always have.”

You blush immediately. You don’t know why this feels so intensely intimate, like a pan that’s gotten too hot. Is it Jeongguk’s tone, the fact that he’s so close, the way he looks at you to make sure you know and understand him? What is it that has you so stupefied by such a simple comment?

Boys have called you pretty before, called you much worse too, but you should be used to it. Over the years you’ve started to develop a thick skin but this one gets to you.

That flutter of butterflies comes back, dancing from the tip of your toes all the way to your head. Jeongguk has seen you grow, from a kid to a pre-teen and now an adult.

And he still finds you beautiful. Even after every embarrassing phase.

You begin to smile, cupping his cheeks and leaning down to press a short kiss to his lips, then the corner of his lips, his cheek and his nose, because he deserves it and he’s cute.

“Thanks,” you mean it, even if the sweet moment cut all of the flourishing beginnings of an orgasm from you and Jeongguk’s fingers halted, out of your underwear and holding your hip instead.

Jeongguk mirrors your expression. Then he looks down at where his hand is and back up at you, nervously tonguing his cheek. “Can I move now?”

You nod your head yes quickly after he asks.

“And…” Jeongguk still looks awkward. You go back to cupping his soft cheeks. “Tell me if I’m doing okay?”

You want to melt in his grip. “Of course, Guk.” Thumb swiping over his cheekbone affectionately.

Jeongguk takes that as the greenlight and slips his fingers back into your underwear. His gaze is on you, studying your features when his thumb goes back to your clit while his middle finger teases around your opening. You clench, desperate for something to slip inside of you, lifting your hips up in hope that Jeongguk would take the hint and put his fingers inside but he continues collecting your arousal to get his digits wet enough.

“Jeongguk,” you call tightly, digging your nails into the meat of his shoulders. He hums in response. “I need more.”

His thumb decides to go faster at your demand but not fast enough and his middle finger still traces your opening instead of slipping inside.

“More?” He repeats, lilting his voice teasingly.

Shithead.

“Yes, more.” You want to whine, kick your legs even.

He can feel how wet you’ve gotten, does he not know how much you want this?

“You want my fingers?”

“Yes,” you grumble but it sweetens at the end because his thumb starts moving faster over your clit and you feel the waves of pleasure swirling in your stomach, turning into a half-moan.

Jeongguk angles his hand a little differently and, gently, pushes his middle finger inside you. He groans at the feeling of you. “So tight,” breathing out against your skin.

You react immediately, throwing your head back. There’s a slight pinch but it's not even the slightest bit painful. The intrusion is welcomed; although small, you need it. Jeongguk’s finger is nice and long and he pistons it out of you with so much care while hitting just the spot.

“Fuck, right there,” you moan out, turning your face into the soft material of your sheets, eyes rolling back.

Jeongguk slips another finger in and he stops teasing your throbbing bundle of nerves to focus fully on moving his digits, curving them upwards to your walls as you release a symphony of noises. Finding that soft spongy part inside of you and massaging it.

“F-faster please, please, go faster,” begging him out of the fear that he’ll tease you just like he was doing before.

But Jeongguk plays fair and fingers you even faster, upping the ante even more by removing his free hand and pressing down on your lower stomach, right before your pelvis.

And you lose it.

The pressure from his hand on top, plus the way his fingers are moving, just becomes too much. The gradual pressure starts accelerating and accelerating until it drops like a rollercoaster and you feel a burst of tingling pleasure rush through your veins and all over your body.

“I’m cumming!” Crying out, tears pooling inside your eyes streaming down your cheeks as your legs shake with the crashing waves of your orgasm.

Different than when you do it. As good as your vibrator is, something about it has yet to make you orgasm like this. Heavy, powerful, almost numbing. Waves crash inside you, again and again, cresting at the peak and slowly simmering out into a soft current and then nothing at all.

Your breath comes out in heavy pants, limbs feeling like jelly, slowly opening your eyes to find Jeongguk staring back at you in bewilderment. His lips are parted but his cheeks aren’t red with embarrassment. If anything, he looks like the complete opposite of that.

Like he could watch you do that again and again. Something you would gladly agree with.

Jeongguk takes his fingers out from your underwear, glistening with your arousal, and before you can offer him a napkin, he slips his digits into his mouth and cleans them off. You really begin to question if this man is a virgin or secretly a sex god waiting to be discovered. He’s way better than you were when you were inexperienced. Does he watch a lot of porn?

Or do Taehyung and Jimin just talk about sex around him too much? Must be that.

“Mmh,” his fingers come out with a soft pop noise, “You taste amazing.” Jeongguk’s clean hand brushes some hair out of your face as he smiles. You lean into his touch like a purring kitten, curling into his chest because your entire body feels weak.

“You okay?” Jeongguk asks, closing his arms around you.

Nodding into his chest, “Yeah. Felt really good.” You want to say more but there’s no energy for you to do so.

“Did it? You looked really hot when,” trailing off, you know what he means, and you press a kiss to his chest. “Kinda want to see it again.”

That takes your attention.

Removing the fact that you haven’t been touched in a bit, two orgasms from Jeongguk might put your legs out of commission and that was just with his fingers. You can’t imagine what it would be like with more of him, especially as he learns more about how to pleasure you and gets better. Your poor vibrator might be out of a job.

“I would love to, but you definitely wore me out.” Pulling your face away, you look up at his perfectly crafted face. “Can we try that another time?”

Another time, you get giddy even before he agrees. After getting addicted to Jeongguk’s touch, you don’t want to entertain the idea of this being a one time thing.

“Of course.” And neither does he.

Jeongguk kisses the top of your head gently, rubbing soothing circles on your back. You tangle your legs with his, inhaling his scent and doing your best not to fall asleep.

It feels sticky and wet between your legs. You should change and you should get ready for bed. Jeongguk probably wants to go back to his house, right? He probably doesn’t want to stick around your place after what just happened.

But you think about it and that’s the farthest thing you want.

Being in his arms, you feel safe and protected, like you drifted off to another dimension where nothing bad has ever happened and you were still the girl you were when you left Busan. Happy and lively.

You don’t want him to leave you. You don’t want this to be another shitty hookup or one-time thing that makes both of you blush and walk-away. You just want Jeongguk to be in your life.

So you hold on tight, avoiding his eyes when you ask: “Do you want to stay here with me tonight?”

Please, please, you beg internally. You’ll make breakfast, there’s a pack of toothbrushes under your sink, anything. Just stay.

And thankfully, Jeongguk responds without wasting another second of your time, putting you at ease once again.

“Please.”

a/n: okay yes, that was a lot but more smut will come and more angst will follow!

taglist:

@iwuzhere

#jungkook x reader #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #thereboundgirl #nerdjungkook #smut series #bts x reader #gamerjungkook #bts smut

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tigersharktheautisticseawing · 3 months ago

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first murdle post ever, but man do I have to yap about vol 1 or else I'll explode (spoilers below cut)

So I got vol 1 back in November when my sister (whom I love with all my heart (remember this I'll yap more about it later)) saw it in an empik and was like "Yeah my autistic gay sisbling thing would love this book" and got it for me. Also fun fact, I saw the book in Empik like a week or so earlier but I decided to pass up on it in favor of books that I was sure I wanted (rookie mistake, fortunately I've got big sis to correct it <3).

Then I got to what I think was about riddle 25-30 before putting it down for like 2-3 months (Epic the musical entered my life with a bang about that time and is only now slowly letting me go from its clutches).

Now, about a week ago, if not less, I saw this book again in my travel backpack and was like "You know what? I really do want a good puzzle." and began solving it at home and bringing it to school with me.

Then puzzle 50 happened.

Up until that point I genuinely thought this book was just some loreless riddles and I didnt discover the lore for a while (before the hiatus but a good week at least from when I got it innitially), so imagine my fucking suprise when the answer to riddle 50 cointained some of the least veiled gay angst I've ever seen in a physical book. Actually scratch that, the least veiled gay angst I've ever seen in a physical book.

So I was like "holy shit I gotta go on ao3 right fucking meow" and found many a fic with the lovely oxymorons ship (well, as many as our sadly ridiculously tiny fandom can produce) and began a-reading.

About that point I started seeing stuff like "spoilers for riddles 75/95/100/etc" and I was like "man tf is happenning in riddle 95 dawg"

(side tangent, I solved the irratino+mr.shadow plot twist in like riddle 61 or whichever was the one where shadow was the culprit with the "fammiliar laugh". Fun enough, just before that in the very same fucking riddle I noticed that we are given different information on mr.shadow at different times and stockpiled the info I found, which left me missing only his height, and upon seeing the phrase "fammiliar laugh" my neurons fucking fired and I frantically skimmed the book to find that one case around 36 with Irratino as a suspect to find his case file and sure e-fucking-nough all the info matched except for the missing height, which couldn't match due to being missing, and I was this close to screaming out loud (which I couldn't cuz I was in some class at the time))

So I work my way through chapter 4 like a champ, the autism helping for once, feeling proud of myself for basically never needing hints.

Then case 91 rolls around and I get hopelessly stuck.

It was last weekend when I was at my dad's house (split custody) and I genuinely could not figure out the suspect statements, even after using the hint, and was so close to just checking the answer that I decided to just take a break.

Then, on what I presume to be Monday, I got it.

It was late but my night owl mind was sharp and I was kinda embarassed for not figuring it out earlier, but hey, autism was cooperating for a suspiciously long amount of time, so my defeat shouldn't've been a suprise at all.

Then, between 11 PM and 1 AM I solved cases until case 97 (it was late at then and I was fucking tired (pretty sure I had to go to school at 8 am as well)) and had fun

And when case 95 rolled around I was really excited to see my boys hanging out finally and bonding further, but the detective code made me really curious.

So, somewhere between the witching hour and 1 in the morning, I painstakingly flipping what seemed to be the entire fucking book back and forth for every letter I needed to decode. I was extremely excited to find the answer, and giddy because I love a good mental challenge.

I got the gist of the message about halfway in, but refused to believe it until I got the whole thing decoded.

"[on zaczął] się w nim zakochiwać"

"[he started] to fall in love with him"

I was so close to screaming, because I genuinely expected the oxymorons to be this thinly-veiled thing that isn't ever stated outright but is also never denied, and yet here I was, staring at the words that seemed to burn into my retinas with their simplicity and message.

And, as the dust settled in my brain, one thing hit me.

Holy shit it's canon

I finished the book in its whole glory on a PE lesson on Wednesday, and immediately knew I needed to get the second book right fucking now.

Yet, poland continues to be poland, and as I input the book into my Empik app to find which store has vol 2, I am met with the answer of Westfield Mokotów, which is about an hour away by public transport. Coincidentally, that same trip by car happens to be only about half that time, leading me to devise my epic plan

Ask Mom if she'll drive me there

If yes, let Mom drop me off and get the book (success!)

If no, go there by public transport and get the book myself (longer, but still success!)

Well, after my mom came home literally as I was writing the texts to her, I presented the plan, which got interrupted by Mom giving me three pieces of information:

That mall is close to my mom's workplace

She cant get me the book today, but she could the next time she'll be working stationally (she works from home most of the time to take care of me and lil' sis and the dog better + it's more convienient)

My big sister's workplace just so happens to be not far from the same mall as well

So, plan now revised, I go to my chat with sis and ask her.

I did not even start typing the actual logistics before she agreed to buy it for me. Not to drop me off there, not to take the money from me so it's like I'm buying it anyway, but to actually buy it for me.

So, after writing something along the lines of "OMG TYSM ILYSM!!!!!! <3 <3 <3" and her writing back that she'll get it on Thursday when she goes to work stationally again, I walk away on could nine and go scrolling this very tag for content of my precious idiots.

Thursday (today) rolls around, and my day is okay. Math test first period, but I'm math autistic so I came in late and finished first, instead of english the six of us in our split class group go listen to a lady present a powerpoint about forest day to some year 0's (zerówka) and then chill (I'm mostly filling in the spots in vol 1 where I haven't written out the murdlers by word yet).

Then, two lessons from the end, we have commonroom period (godzina wychowawcza, with your assigned class teacher yapping on about something). We didn't talk about anything since there was a poem contest due Friday and our Polish teacher guilted homeroom teach into letting us make the poems (I wasnt making one, but like at least two people did and there was a grand total of like 12 of us so yk), and towards the end of my lesson I started feeling weird. I went to the bathroom and felt cold, so I grabbed my coat from my locker, and yet I still felt cold. And not oh-no-too-cold cold, but I-am-having-a-fever-so-everything-else-seems-cold-by-comparison cold.

(Forgot to mention, but just before commonroom my sis texts me that she got the goods and that I can just drop by and pick it up anytime. This is important for later.)

Then, just before WOS (wiedza o społeczeństwie, it's like politics jr and stuff), I ask my teacher to let me go to the nurse. Long story short, waited 15 min for her to tell me I'm fever-free, so I got back to class, still feeling queasy, and do the lesson stuffs (fortunately it was just a question sheet that our teacher was just actively telling us how to fill in and giving us good grades for that + 2 quizzes on knock-off kahoot, so it was chill)

Back at home I'm feeling queasier than ever (plus dog almost gets run pver by a bike on the fucking sidewalk right in front of the gate to our house), so I take my temperature, and, wouldn't you know it, 37.8C (deep in fever territory for the americans).

So I text my sis a pic I took of the thermometer with the caption "Me sick".

AND THAT ANGELIC CREATURE FUCKING DECIDED TO DROP IT OFF TOO!?!?!?!?

Like, our next texts were just me saying variations of "TYSM ILYSM <3 <3 <3 <3" cause she was doing me so much favors this week oh gods

And now as I sit here, unstarted yet vol 2 under my arm...

I CANNOT FUCKING WAIT TO START!!!!!

Happy to be her with y'all <3

#murdle #spoilers for murdle vol 1 #long post #tiger's incoherent rambles #oh and to my moots #sorry not fucking sorry #if I'm falling down the gay detective rabbit hole y'all falling down with me #honestly suprised the fandom is so microscopic atp #anyway rambles off I gotta go take a shower #and I still wanna get into this book #once again shoutout to big sis #I FUCKING LOVE YOU TYSM

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cressidagrey · 2 months ago

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I was reading chapter 11 in the middle of my physics class, and i had to hold in my rage for the Leclerc (fictional) family!!!

Also, I'm super proud of Belle for admiting she needs help <3

It was a big step for Belle to actually admit that she needed help, but very much needed and a step in the right direction ❤️

(I mean, we already knew that this version of the Leclerc family sucks, but this was just the cherry on top. (Though I have two more situations to put them in, which makes it even worse, but you'll see 👀)

#c answers #white horse

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inevitably-johnlocked · 1 year ago

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Hiiiiii

Do you have any fics where john or sherlock are mutants/ have powers?

Hi Lovely!

OOOOOOOHHHH I love this; I have a few fics that could be qualified as "CLOSE" to mutations and superpowers, but not 100%. I have a lot more "changelings" than anything else. I've compiled together some of the ones on my MFL list as well, but I can't guarantee that they're mutants in them since I haven't read them.

If anyone has any fics that they can suggest, please do! I'm kind of into MCU fics right now so if I can have Sherlock-style in there too, that would be awesome! PLEASE let us know if you have mutant or Superhero Johnlock fics!!!

MUTATIONS or SUPERPOWERS