#it will probably take me longer to write since I have like three other fics I have to finish | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

virgoilluminati · 2 months

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can u please write a jude fic where your in a talking stage and he comes over and you both make out for the first time 🤭

It's been a long time coming...

A/N: this is my first request in absolutely ages so tysm you have made my day ✨❣️ As I am now unemployed (😜✌️) i have a lot of free time before i head back to university. So please if anyone has any ideas lmk 🥹

Inspo: Jude and You have been close friends since high school, but after one very drunken night, you admit your feelings for him, right before he leaves for the euro's. When Jude arrives home, he has only one goal, to give you that kiss that you've been waiting for.

Oh, you had royally fucked up.

So royally fucked up that you probably shouldn’t leave the house for at least the next two days, perhaps a week, even a month.

You’d told your best friend that you liked him, in a sweaty club, the night before he was going to the Euros. With the drink loosening your tongue, you blurted it out without thinking. The look on his face said it all; he was stunned into silence.

You and Jude had known each other since high school. He was in the year above you, but you both shared a huge interest in football. While he played for the boys’ squad, you played for the girls’. You got really close in the last year of high school as he began prepping for the under-21s football team while you were preparing for university. You became each other’s anchor, someone you both could rely on, no matter how tough it got. You told each other absolutely everything. So when you blurted out that you liked him, it was as if you had shattered an unspoken rule.

You had been drunk. That was the justification you were giving. You didn’t know what you were thinking; you couldn’t control what was going through your head. You couldn’t face him, not now. The memory of his expression replayed in your mind, a painful reminder.

You had sent him one text message, mentioning nothing about the incident, just wishing him luck in the Euros. Maybe he’d just forget it even happened. After all, he was pretty drunk too.

You had spent all morning preoccupying yourself with your uni work, taking the dog out for a walk, cleaning your room… basically anything to distract from the impending apocalypse. But it was pointless; every other second, you would check the blue tick on the message, with a simple “read” underneath it.

Hey, I hope the head isn’t too sore from last night ahaha. Best of luck in the Euros, I’ll be screaming your name at the local, love ya. (Read)

His response came about three hours later. In that time, you had gone through all five stages of grief. First, Denial: you denied that you even told him, that it was a huge mistake. Anger: you were angry that no one stopped you, as it was an open secret between all of your friends but him, but they had let you blurt it out. Bargaining: maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, you know. You could just say it was a mistake or you didn’t remember. Depression: this would be the end of your friendship—that he’d no longer look at you the same way ever again. Acceptance: your life was doomed, and that was the end of it. However, when his response came, you hadn’t actually prepared yourself.

Yeah, my head’s fine ahaha, though I think you drank more than me in the end. Currently on the way to the airport, Trent says hi. Pretty nervous about the Euros, I can’t lie.

You sat there staring at the three dots, wondering what else he was thinking. You cringed at him mentioning your drunkenness. He not only knew but he must’ve remembered. Oh god, this was going to be awkward.

You didn’t respond, noticing the frequent three dots on his screen going rapidly on and off. Sighing, you attempted to make a joke, quickly sending back a response.

I’m sure Trent is feeling it right now ahaha, how many shots did he have last night again? Don’t be nervous, you’ll be ace!

His reply came almost instantly.

Enough to need a new liver, I’m sure. Thanks for the vote of confidence. We’re about to board, talk later?

You couldn’t help but feel relieved. He wasn’t addressing your confession at all. Maybe he really had chosen to forget about it. Or perhaps he was giving you a way out, a chance to pretend it never happened. Either way, you seized the opportunity.

Sure, have a safe flight! Catch you later.

With that, you put your phone down and took a deep breath. Maybe this wouldn’t ruin everything after all. For now, you’d focus on the positives: Jude was still talking to you, and you still had your friendship, even if it was a little shaken.

The next couple of days were a whirlwind of activity. Jude was swamped with training and media commitments, so your interactions were mostly confined to texts. Despite the busyness, he made sure to check in frequently, sending you updates and little messages that kept the connection alive.

After the Slovakia game, which they won in a nail-biting finish, you received a call from Jude. You could hear the adrenaline in his voice, the excitement of the victory still fresh.

“Hey,” he said, a little breathless. “Did you see the game?”

“Of course I did! You were amazing! That last-minute goal!" you replied, unable to hide the pride in your voice.

“Thanks. It felt good out there tonight. The fans were crazy. Nearly thought we were goners—"

"Nah, I knew you'd pull through."

"Really?" His voice sounded hopeful, as if he had more to say, but instead, he coughed and continued talking. "Uh, listen, there is something I need to talk to you about.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Okay, what’s up?”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about what you said."

"What I said? When?" you responded, your heart beating faster by the minute.

"The night before I went, about you liking me. I thought I could just put it aside and focus on the tournament, but… I can’t.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Jude…”

“No, let me finish,” he interrupted gently. “I’ve been trying to figure out how I feel. And the truth is, I like you too."

Tears pricked at your eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah. I hope you don't mind, but I told Dec and Trent, and after they completely humbled me, they made me realize—I think I've always had a bit of a thing for you. It’s just… I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t want to lose what we have.”

“You won’t,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “We’ll figure it out together. One step at a time.”

There was a moment of silence, then Jude let out a breath. “Okay. One step at a time. I like the sound of that.”

For the rest of the night, you talked about everything and nothing, letting the conversation flow naturally. The tension from the confession began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of hope and excitement.

The next game was against Switzerland, and you decided to go out to the pub to watch it with a couple of your pals. The place was buzzing with excitement, filled with fans donning jerseys and scarves, and the energy was infectious. As the match began, you found yourself nervously scanning the screen for Jude, your eyes automatically seeking him out every few seconds.

Your friends, of course, noticed.

“Honestly, if you stare any harder, you might burn a hole through the screen,” teased Sarah, nudging you playfully.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the blush that crept up your cheeks. “I’m just… making sure he’s doing okay.”

“Sure, just making sure,” Mark chimed in with a grin. “We all know you’re head over heels.”

“Guys, can we please just focus on the game?” you said, though you couldn’t help but smile.

As the match progressed, every time Jude touched the ball, your heart seemed to leap into your throat. You could hear your friends’ comments in the background, teasing you about how intently you were watching him.

“There he is again, Y/N! Are you taking notes on his every move?” Sarah laughed.

“Come on, give her a break. She’s just a supportive friend,” Mark added, though his tone was dripping with sarcasm.

You tried to ignore them, but the truth was, they weren’t entirely wrong. You were more invested in Jude’s performance than anything else. When he made a particularly brilliant pass, you couldn’t help but cheer louder than anyone else.

“Wow, you’ve got it bad,” Sarah remarked, shaking her head in amusement.

The game was intense, with both teams playing aggressively. Jude was in top form, making crucial plays and demonstrating why he was such an asset to the team. As the game neared its end, with the score tied, the tension in the pub was palpable.

Just then, your phone buzzed with a message from Jude.

Jude: Gaffer gave us 5 minutes, couldn't wait any longer to not text you.

You: What are you doing?! You're supposed to be on the pitch.

Jude: I think this is going to penalties, I feel it.

You quickly typed back, trying to infuse your message with as much confidence as you could muster.

You: Don’t worry, you’ve got this. I believe in you.

There was a brief pause before his next message came through.

Jude: Listen, how about this: if we win, I’ll take you out on a date.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared at the screen, rereading his words. A date. With Jude. Your heart was racing now for an entirely different reason.

You: Deal.

The penalties were agonizing to watch. Each kick, each save, each miss, had the entire pub reacting in unison—groans of despair, cheers of relief, gasps of anticipation. You were barely breathing, your eyes fixed on the screen as if willing the ball into the net with sheer force of will.

Jude stepped up to take his shot. The pub fell silent. You could almost hear your own heartbeat. He took a deep breath, ran up, and kicked. The ball sailed past the goalkeeper and into the net. The pub erupted in cheers, and you jumped up, your shout of triumph mingling with everyone else’s.

The penalties continued, and finally, it came down to Trent. The pressure was immense. If he scored, England would win.

The pub fell silent again as Trent prepared for his shot. You could feel the tension in the air, your heart pounding louder than ever. He took his position, focused, ran up, and kicked. The ball flew towards the goal, past the goalkeeper, and hit the back of the net.

The pub exploded in cheers. People were hugging, high-fiving, and celebrating. You couldn’t believe it. They had done it.

Your phone buzzed again.

Jude: We did it! Can’t believe it. Guess I owe you that date ;)

You couldn’t stop smiling, your heart soaring with pride and excitement.

You: You were amazing! We're so proud!! I can't wait x

Jude: Trust me, I’m looking forward to it. See you soon, Y/N.

You spent the rest of the night celebrating with your friends, the victory and Jude’s promise keeping your spirits high. Amidst all the revelry, one thing was clear: your relationship with Jude was about to take a new and thrilling turn.

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions and excitement. Jude’s team had just secured a 2-1 victory against the Netherlands. The pub you were in was filled with joyous celebration and raucous cheers. You knew Jude would be over the moon, and you couldn’t wait to hear from him.

Soon enough, your phone rang with an incoming call from Jude. You stepped outside, away from the pub’s noise, to answer.

“Hey, Jude!” you answered, your voice bright with excitement. “Congrats on the win!”

“Y/N!” Jude’s voice was noticeably slurred, and you could hear the background noise of a lively celebration. “I can’t believe we did it! We actually won!”

“I know, it was amazing!” you said, smiling. “You were incredible out there.”

“Thanks!” Jude’s words were slightly jumbled. “I’m just so… so buzzed right now! Remember when we were kids and we’d dream about moments like this? It’s really happening!”

“I know, it’s like a dream come true,” you said warmly.

“And you were always… so pretty, you know? I never really understood why you’d hang out with me,” he continued, his voice full of affection. “Everyone loved you, and I was just this goofy football guy.”

You felt a blush rising. “Jude, it didn’t matter. We had so much fun together.”

“Really?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “I always thought… thought you were too good for me. I was just this guy with a big dream, and you were this amazing person who could have been anywhere.”

“Well, I was where I wanted to be,” you said softly. “With you.”

Jude’s voice grew more tender. “I’ve always admired you, Y/N. Even back then, I was captivated by you. The way you carried yourself, the way you looked—it was like you had this light that drew me in. I was always amazed by how stunning you were, both inside and out.”

You could hear Bukayo’s voice faintly in the background. “Jude, mate, turn the phone off. You're pissed-"

Jude chuckled, though his tone remained affectionate. “I can’t help it, Bukayo! Y/N, you have no idea how incredible you are. I mean, just thinking about you—how beautiful you looked back then and how stunning you still are—drives me crazy.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Jude, you’re making me blush.”

“I’m just speaking the truth,” he said earnestly. “You’ve always been this amazing person, and I’ve been lucky to have you as a friend and now… maybe something more.”

You felt a warm flutter in your chest. “I’m really glad we’re sharing these moments together. It means a lot to me.”

Jude’s voice grew more serious, though still a bit tipsy. “If we keep winning, I want to make sure we celebrate together. I can’t imagine doing it without you.”

“I’d love that,” you said, smiling. “For now, enjoy the celebration. You’ve earned it.”

Jude’s laughter was warm and content. “Alright, I’ll let you go. But I’ll call you again soon, okay?”

“Sure thing. Enjoy the rest of your night, Jude,” you said.

As you ended the call, you couldn’t help but smile. Jude’s heartfelt, tipsy confessions and the sound of his celebration had deepened your connection, making you realize just how much you both meant to each other. The future felt full of promise, and you were excited to see where this new chapter would lead.

When England lost 2-1 to Spain, the crushing disappointment was felt by everyone, especially Jude. As he and the team made their way back, he couldn't shake the feeling of defeat.

You, back home, had been anxiously awaiting any word from him. After a few hours, you decided to check in, hoping he was doing okay.

You: Hey Jude, are you alright? Just wanted to check in.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzed with a message from Jude. The text was brief, but the words were heavy with the weight of the loss.

Jude: Not great, honestly. It's been a rough night.

You felt a pang of sadness reading his message.

You could picture him, lost in thought, longing for comfort.

You: I'm so sorry, Jude. I wish I could be there with you too. You wanna hang out tomorrow? Watch a crappy horror movie and crash on my sofa?

The reply came back quickly.

Jude: Sure. I could use a little cheer up. I'd better go, journalists want a chat before we board.

You stared at the phone, hoping your words brought him some measure of comfort. You knew how much this loss meant to him, and how hard he had worked for this moment. The idea of him being alone in his thoughts broke your heart a little more.

You wanted to do something special for him, something that would show him just how much you cared. An idea started to form in your mind, and you sprang into action.

First, you pulled out his favorite hoodie from the closet. It was slightly oversized on you, but it felt like a warm hug. You wore it while you tidied up the apartment, making sure everything was perfect for when he got home.

Then, you went into the kitchen to start cooking his favorite meal. The process was therapeutic, each stir of the pot a way to channel your nervous energy. As the aromas filled the room, you felt a little more at peace, knowing that you were doing something to help him, even from afar.

As the hours ticked by, you kept checking your phone, hoping for any update on his flight. Finally, a message popped up.

Jude: Just landed. See you soon

Your heart skipped a beat. You quickly finished setting the table, dimming the lights to create a cozy atmosphere. You lit a few candles, their soft glow adding a touch of warmth to the room.

When you heard the key in the lock, you rushed to the door, your heart pounding with anticipation. As the door opened, there he was, looking exhausted but so incredibly relieved to see you.

Without a word, he dropped his bags and pulled you into a tight embrace. You held him close, feeling the tension slowly drain from his body as he buried his face in your neck.

"I missed you so much," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

"I missed you too, Jude," you replied softly, running your fingers through his hair. "I'm so glad you're home."

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes filled with gratitude. "You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you."

You smiled, cupping his face in your hands. "Come on, I made your favorite dinner. Let's sit down and talk about everything."

Later on, after you had let him get everything off his chest, you decided to watch a movie, something that would probably become background noise. As the movie played, you and Jude sat side by side on the couch, the tension between you that seemed to dance in time with the flickering images. You could feel the heat of his body next to yours, and every time your arms or legs brushed, a jolt of electricity shot through you.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.

He was staring at the screen, but you could tell his mind was elsewhere. The furrow in his brow, the way his jaw tightened, the constant fidgeting-he was still wrestling with the aftermath of the game.

You wished there was something you could do to ease his mind.

As if sensing your thoughts, he turned to you, his eyes softening. "I'm sorry I've been a grumpy sod."

You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest. "No, don't be. I'm your friend!" You smirk a little as you made eye contact with him for the first time that night. "I'm just glad you're here."

The movie continued, but the air between you grew thicker with unspoken words and emotions.

"Listen. About what I said-"

"We don't have too-"

"No we should! Because, i know I've been swept up with all of the euro's but- I meant what i said. I like you."

"I like you too."

You could feel his gaze lingering on you more frequently, and each time you met his eyes, it was like a silent conversation passed between you.

"Do you remember the last time we watched a movie together?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

You chuckled softly. "Yeah, you fell asleep halfway through."

He grinned, the first genuine smile you'd seen from him all night. "I was exhausted. You have a way of making me feel very relaxed. Always have done."

"It's a very good thing," he replied, his voice low.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the intensity in his eyes. The movie, now a distant background noise, was all but forgotten. The distance between you seemed to shrink with each passing second.

"Jude..." you began, but the words caught in your throat. "I-." His eyes looked up and down at your lips as you settled into his embrace. He looks for any uncertainty before he continues.

"You make me feel seen. Like I can't hide anything from you. It's scary really-"

"Is that so-" you smile, your eyes casting over his lips.

"Mhmm. You make me such a good person-"

"Jude, just kiss me already." You laugh. He smiles instinctively,

He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. "Can I...?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, unable to form a coherent response.

Your heart pounded in your chest as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. The world seemed to hold its breath as your lips finally met in a soft, tentative kiss.

It was like a spark igniting a fire, the kiss quickly deepening with a hunger that had been building all night. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss grew more intense.

You responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pressed against him, the kiss growing more intense. His lips were insistent, exploring yours with a desperate need. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, mirroring your own racing pulse.

Jude's hands roamed, tracing the curve of your back, sending shivers down your spine. Your skin felt electrified wherever he touched, each caress igniting a new wave of desire. You gasped as his lips left yours, trailing hot kisses down your neck, nibbling and sucking gently at the sensitive skin.

"Jude," you moaned softly, your fingers tightening in his hair. He groaned in response, the sound vibrating against your throat as he continued his exploration, his hands slipping under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your back.

Your breath hitched when his lips found the hollow of your collarbone, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. You arched into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. The heat between you was almost unbearable, a consuming fire that threatened to engulf you both.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for breath, you looked into his eyes and couldn't help but smile. "Do you know how long l've wanted to do that?" you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of relief and desire.

Jude chuckled, resting his forehead against yours.

"Probably as long as I have," he replied, his breath warm against your lips.

You both knew this was just the beginning, but for now, the world outside could wait. All that mattered was the two of you, tangled in each other's arms, finally giving in to the desire that had been simmering between you for so long.

#fanfiction #jude bellingham #leah williamson #womens world cup #england football #englandwomensfootball #womens football #football fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #judebellingham x footballreader #jude bellingham fanfic #judebellingham #Jude Bellingham fanfiction #euro 2024 #englandfootball #fanfic #footballer x reader #football imagine

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running-on-coffee-and-anxiety · 7 months

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Know what? I'm gonna try throwing my hat into the ring for Danny Phantom.

I accidentally electrocuted myself as a kid and never told anybody- nothing serious, I grabbed the three exposed prongs of a half plugged in laptop charger in the middle of the night and didn't want to get in trouble since nobody else was awake. Even if it isn't fatal, it's terrifying and your vision completely blacks out and your arm tingles for days afterwards, and for the whole day after you got shocked your fingers on the hand that grabbed the prongs will randomly twitch, open or close or jerk to the side. You have no control, it's like when the doctor hits your knee to check your reflexes.

Now, from what I can tell from the scene where Danny went ghost for the first time, he really was electrocuted. From what I can tell, his ghost and human halves seem kinda separate- not completely, but the change is there. Where is this going?

Danny never told anyone about the accident- not anybody that could help him, anyways. I propose that, since he never got medical treatment or physical/occupational therapy after the accident, his motor function deteriorates over time.

More specifically, his small motor function is effected- I will be using personal experience in this section, since my small motor skills were so bad I couldn't use zippers or tie my shoes until I was 12, but I'll try putting things in reverse.

Danny starts fumbling with tying his shoes, laughing it off as being tired. Buttons take a few minuets, and even snap buttons become a bit hard. Odd, mildly confusing, but nothing to be concerned about. Then it progresses. He can't properly use tools anymore, it's like nothing is ever precise enough, everything takes a few tries to get it right. His fingers are fumbling everything, his handwriting turns to chickenscratch that not even he can read at times, he struggles to comb his hair because it's hard to coordinate movements, his back teeth are always textured because he struggles to brush his teeth and he can't really reach the back ones properly anymore.

I don't know if this is connected to small motor or not, but he starts dragging his feet and the toes of his shoes wear out quicker because walking while lifting his feet any higher doesn't feel right. This was something I had fixed during occupational therapy, but I don't know if it was just me or not.

Eventually, it becomes sunlight-on-clean-pact-snow levels of blindingly obvious that something is incredibly wrong. Danny's hair is knotted and half-matted because he is unable to brush it properly, when he smiles there is plaque on some parts of his teeth and not others, he always wears slip-on shoes or his laced shoes are always untied, buttons always seem like they could unslip because they're only half-buttoned, zippers in his jackets getting stuck in shirts and he doesn't bother to fix it, teachers can no longer read his assignments and his friends can't read his notes. Nobody can ignore it, but nobody knows how to help when Danny gets so clearly frustrated when he has to do something with his hands and it just doesn't work. It seems like he suddenly developed a hole in his lip, since he always had to lean far over his bowl or plate to not end up on food with his shirt because his hands can't hold silverware steady.

But Phantom? None of those issues. He became a ghost after being electrocuted, of course. Why would there be damage from the initial creation of this half? It could be why he ends up enjoying fighting the ghosts, his hands actually work with him instead of against him.

Feel free to take this idea and do what you want with it, I really liked writing this!

Also if you use this for a fic, please comment the link if possible, I wanna see all the ways people use this :)

Edit: So I started a mini-series about this. Is it any good? Probably not, but writing makes me happy.

Noticed But Hoping For The Best

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dannyphantom #danny phantom headcanon

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jakesduskwood · 4 months

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even statues crumble if they're made to wait

Pairing: Jake x Fem!MC

Genre: Post-Episode 10 Duskwood, Post-Episode 1 Moonvale

Words: 8,916

Summary: It's been three months since the explosion in the mine. Three months since Hannah was found. And MC's accepted that Jake is never coming back. When she gets roped into another missing person's case, it makes for the perfect distraction. Jake is dead. It's fine. That is, until she finds herself on the phone with Alan Bloomgate who says he has something to show her. But it's fine. Jake is dead.

Until he's not.

EPISODE-1 MOONVALE SPOILERS AHEAD (MAYBE)!

[ A/N: Hello! :)

I know it's been a while since I've done this, but I finished Moonvale Episode 1 and if you've seen the ending (and used its Duskwood code), you know what happened and how excited I was to receive that bit of Duskwood. So, I took it and ran with it, and out came this extremely long fic. I did not proofread this as it took me literally almost 12 hours to write so it is completely and 100% me and my love for Jake and I hope you love it.

Side note: I suck with anything related to timelines, so I made one up on my own. I know Episode 1 of Moonvale takes place over the course of a day or two, but for the purpose of this fic, it made sense to make it longer, so it's not a typo, or me losing my mind, it's just the way my brain processed this.

Enjoy! :) ]

It’s been three months since the explosion in the mine.

Three months since Richy had been killed. Three months since Hannah was rescued. Three months since I had last spoken to Thomas or Cleo or Lilly or…or Jessy. I didn’t blame her then and I don’t blame her now. Any of them, really. I didn’t share the bond they had with each other. I wasn’t from Duskwood. It didn’t matter that we’d experienced a tragedy together—and yes, perhaps them more than me, but I loved Richy too. I had lost Richy too. And Jake—

But mostly, I think they just wanted to forget. To move on. They didn’t want to remember that their friend had been capable of…of that. And I was a constant reminder of that to them. So I understood why we didn’t necessarily talk anymore.

The one person I did keep in contact with from Duskwood, oddly enough, other than the occasional update from Alan Bloomgate, was Dan. We weren’t best friends or anything, but he allowed me to check in on our friends in a way that I didn’t know how to do with anyone else. Maybe because I thought he was the least affected among them. I knew he cared about Hannah, but he wasn’t to her what Thomas or Cleo or Lilly were. And he wasn’t to Richy what Jessy had been.

I’d learned from him that Thomas and Hannah had broken up. There was no bad blood, but Thomas hadn’t quite figured out how to accept the things he’d learned about his girlfriend when she’d been gone, and Hannah hadn’t quite figured out how to re-trust someone after Richy. Even if that person was Thomas. But I’d hoped they would find their way back to each other in the end.

I thought about reaching out to Jessy every once in a while—even just as an apology for everything that had happened. I’m sorry that Hannah was found at the expense of Richy. I’m sorry that he did this to you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. We should have. We should have. We should have. I miss you. But I never send it. I’m not all that sure she’d respond anyway.

Cleo and I were never all that close. She has her best friend back, so I think she’s probably as okay as she can be. Helping Hannah find a new kind of normal in a time where her childhood friend had kidnapped her in order to prove a point. I don’t know how you come back from that—I don’t know how you come back from knowing that you killed somebody at all.

I hadn’t found the courage to ask if somebody had told Hannah about Jake.

Not that I think it would matter anyway. I hadn’t heard from him since before the explosion in the mine, which was, like I said—three months ago. I waited the appropriate amount of time—twenty-five days—before I broke down and concluded that maybe he hadn’t survived. Which just piled a shit-ton of guilt onto my shoulders because it was supposed to be me in that mine. He had gone in place of me and now he was dead.

It was the only explanation that made sense. I was used to Jake disappearing for days at a time, but never as long as he had been now. And he didn’t seem like the type to tell me he loved me and then leave without a single explanation. Not unless he had to. But it had been three months and as much as I missed him, as much as my chest ached with the thought that we would never eat Chinese food out of shitty motels and have that on-the-run ending we talked about, I had accepted that he wasn’t coming back.

I wonder if he had known about Richy or if he had died still thinking Michael Hanson was the one who had kidnapped Hannah. I wonder if his last thoughts were of me. Maybe it’s selfish, but I kind of hope they were, because I’m pretty sure I’ll think about him for the rest of my life.

I wonder what it would have felt like to run my hands through his hair. To kiss him. To spend every waking moment with him and know it was because I loved him. Because I would have. Talking to Jake became about more than just finding Hannah. It became a part of my day I looked forward to more than anything else. He confided in me in a way that told me he never had with anyone, maybe not even Hannah, and I needed that from somebody. I needed somebody to trust in me the way that Jake did. I needed somebody to love me the way that Jake did.

It was strange—and maybe a little ironic—the thought that something so beautiful could come out of something so tragic.

Anyway, my point is: it’s been a long couple of months. Of thinking about my friends. Of thinking about Jake. Of wondering if I should have done things differently. I should have gone to Duskwood to help. Not even with the mine, but sooner. I could have. I could’ve gone when Jessy was attacked on the way home. I could’ve gone when the group made plans to cut out of town and hide away in the house Richy had found. Selfishly, I should have. In that moment, when they were settled around the fire and Lilly called me, I had never remembered wanting anything more. I should have grabbed Jake—metaphorically, maybe even literally—and rode it out with them to the end.

I don’t stop missing them after three months. Of wishing things could have been different. Wishing I could have done more. But exactly ninety-five days after the explosion in the mine, seventy days since I had accepted that Jake was never coming back, twenty-two days since I had last heard from anybody from Duskwood (Dan included), my phone dings with a new message.

And the cycle starts all over again.

It’s somebody named Eric, who claims he needs my help to find his friend Adam, who disappeared while he was waiting for a ride in someplace called Redlog Pines. And much like with Duskwood, I have never heard of Redlog, and the case reminds me way too much of Thomas’ first message to me, so much that it makes my chest ache, but I can’t say no because there’s somebody missing, and if I’d say no the first time, God knows where Hannah would be.

So, I say yes, and I help out where I can, and Eric decides he needs to bring about four more friends in on his little plan and I try my best to stay emotionally unattached because I remember everything that happened the last time and I can’t go through that again. I offer up information when I can and keep my words short and careful because I’m not ready to get attached to somebody else I know I might never meet.

I know how this ends.

Two days in, Ash, one of Eric’s friends, brings up my Duskwood past and the unhealed wound I’ve been trying to mend breaks open again. She asks about Richy, and about the mine, and then because I’m me and I can’t help myself, I tell her about Jake. She tells me the news never mentioned another body and I shove that thought to the back of my head because hoping for something that will never come true will kill me.

Four days into Adam’s disappearance, and the police not giving a shit—as Charlie, somebody who reminds me far too much of Richy for comfort, points out—my phone beeps with an incoming call from somebody I haven’t spoken to in a while.

“Go for [MC].” I answer my phone.

Ever since Hannah had been found in the mine and Jake had…you know, my phone had been more silent than I’d gotten used to. Until this new case. But even that—it was only a few days old and I didn’t want to go down the same path with them that I did with my friends in Duskwood. We didn’t really know each other that long, sure—even though sometimes it’d felt like it—but it felt like I’d finally been a part of something. Like, I had found these people who had chosen me for me.

And originally, maybe they had. Maybe they’d had every intention of keeping me around, but then Richy was the Man Without A Face and Alan Bloomgate had rescued Hannah and nothing was the same as it had been when we’d met each other. We knew too many secrets about each other by the time the town settled. Secrets we would have to take to the grave.

Or maybe I’m losing my mind a bit and I had really only been a means to an end.

Either way.

“Alan?” I raise my voice when there’s nothing but breathing on the other end of the line. “Did you mean to call me?”

His tone is clipped. “I found something.”

“You found something.” I repeat.

My heart clenches. For all I know, it might fall into my stomach. As far I know, from watching the news, from what Ash told me, Jake’s body was never found. Richy’s was. Or what was left of him to find, anyway. I had assumed that there just hadn’t been enough of Jake left. The thought left me nauseous, but it was better than hoping for something I knew I could never have.

“I’m sending it to your phone now.” He responds. “Let me know what you think of this.”

And then he hangs up.

That was a riveting conversation, I think as my phone dings with a message. I do my best to ignore my other messages—contacts from Duskwood I’m still not ready to acknowledge—and click Alan Bloomgate. He sent me a video that looks like—oh God.

Immediately, I’m overcome with emotion as an all-too-familiar forest pops up on my phone. It’s a video of Alan’s bodycam footage. He’s searching the Duskwood forest. A forest I’ve seen too many times in the background of other video calls.

I watch as he stumbles upon an object that’s too dark to make out at first. When he gets closer, it’s clear that it’s a backpack. It’s simple. Black. Nothing about it that screams this is mine and I left it here about anybody in particular. You stupid, stupid idiot, I tell my heart when it rattles against my chest in hope. He’s dead.

Alan stands and treks away from the backpack—I want to scream at him to go back, to open it and look through it and tell me if it’s what my heart aches to believe, but I can’t, because this is a video and I’m simply watching with wide eyes, waiting for…for something. But then. But then, he moves further into the forest and I watch as he stumbles upon an object that makes my knees tremble and tears rush to my eyes and my hands shake. A black hoodie. It looks like it’s been through hell, with holes scattered up the sleeves and dirt cakes into the hood, but it’s unmistakably his.

And then—Alan lifts the hood and picks up something that makes me sink to my knees with a sob that wracks my entire frame. Because I’m staring at Jake’s mask. The mask he doesn’t go anywhere without. The mask that protects him. And so my relief is short-lived, because I realize that even if he’s alive—which seems like a very big possibility at this point—he’s alive without the things that he needs to survive.

And then the anger kicks in. Because if he’s been alive, on his own, for three months—why has he not contacted me? Unless he survived the mine but he didn’t survive the after. But that didn’t make any sense. So, okay, he wasn’t dead. But that didn’t make any sense either. He told me he wouldn’t let them catch him. Because catching that meant he would be apart from me. Did something happen that prevented him from being able to reach out and tell me he was at least okay? A quick text that said didn’t die in the explosion in the mine, you don’t need to mourn me, by the way, going off radar for another year. Did he think I would have given up on him?

I wipe my eyes and shoot a message to Alan.

ME: Recently?? Did nobody search the forests before?

ALAN: Searched the forests for what, [MC]? The logical assumption seemed to be that if anybody was inside the mine when Richy set the fire, they would have perished alongside him. Officers were stationed outside every known entrance and exit. Besides, after the story you and your friends spun around this town, do you think anybody would have gone back into its forests?

ME: But it’s possible?

ALAN: I would say these items had been there for some time. But I would say it is likely he ditched them when he fled the mine, yes.

Another sob tears through my throat. Jake is alive. I don’t know quite what that means for us as of now, but I know it’s the best news I’ve heard since Hannah was found. Jake is alive. He’s out there somewhere. And even if it’s been three months, and even if I’m a little bit mad at him right now, I know that if he was here, I would throw my arms around his neck and hold on to him until someone dragged me off, and even then—I would fight kicking and screaming.

I close out of my messages with Alan and pull up a conversation I haven’t had the heart to look at in quite some time.

ME: Jake’s alive.

LILLY: …

LILLY: Have you spoken to him?

ME: Alan called. He found some of Jake’s things in Duskwood. I don’t know a lot of details. But I know he made it out of the mine.

Lilly types for a long while, but she doesn’t respond. I don’t take it personally. I think it’s probably hard for her to be happy that her brother’s okay while also trying to accept that her sister may never be okay again. Her sister, who had once-upon-a-time been kind-of-sort-of in love with their brother she didn’t know she had. I think that would probably mess with any family’s heads. And on top of all that, you throw in manslaughter and a kidnapping. I wouldn’t wish anybody, not even my worst enemy, to have had to go through what the Donforts had.

When it becomes adamant that Lilly isn’t going to respond, I start scrolling through messages with the rest of the group in Duskwood. I click on Jessy. I’m here if you need me. That had been the last thing I sent to her, a couple of days after Richy’s death. She hadn’t responded. I click out of Jessy’s contact and click on Thomas’ instead. Thank you for everything. That had been his last message to me after we found Hannah. I’d liked it. I hadn’t expected at the time it would be the last thing we’d ever say to each other. I click out of Thomas’ and click on Richy. So, you want to turn yourself in? I’d asked. That was before he called me. Before he lit a match and burned himself and the mine to the ground. Some people would call that heroic. I mostly call him a coward.

I click on Jake’s name. It’s been a while since I read messages between the two of us. Maybe before I had accepted—thought—he was dead. In that twenty-five-day period when I’d hoped with all I’d had that he would come back. I love you. That was the last message he sent me. I’d responded with I love you too, Jake. Then, four days later: Are you okay? A week later: Jake, please, you’re starting to scare me. I know you said you would contact when you could, but it’s been a week. After twenty-five days, when I had finally accepted our fate, I’d sent one final message: I hope you know that I love you, and I will always care about you, but I think it’s time for me to move on. I’m so sorry that I sent you into the mine. It should have been me. And I will probably feel the guilt from that for the rest of my life. Thank you for everything. Take care of yourself, wherever you are.

After that, I had closed out of our messages and hadn’t looked back. Partly because I couldn’t bear the pain of it. It felt like I had given up on him. I hadn’t—if I had thought for a second that he was alive, if I knew then what I know now, I would have never sent that message. But holding out hope for somebody who I thought was a ghost at the time? That was slowly killing me.

It’s only then that I notice the screen flickering. Much like the way it used to whenever Jake would hack into my phone. I don’t think he’s much in the mood to be hacking right now, but somehow, I know it’s him. When had he done this? Recently? If I had opened our messages, would I have seen this ten—twenty—even fifty days ago? It hadn’t looked like this the last time I texted him. Did he see my last message about needing to move on? Was that why he hadn’t reached out to tell me that he was okay? Because he thought I was moving on happily without him?

No, my brain supplies. He wouldn’t. He would reach out anyway, because he knows how much the thought of him not being okay would have destroyed you.

The screen flickers once more and then a message pops up, bright and blue-tinted and clear as day on my phone.

[MC]

I WILL FIND YOU

And the world around me shifts.

--------------------------------------------------

Maybe it sounds crazy, considering I’ve never seen his face before, but I always thought that if I’d ran into Jake one day, maybe on the street or at one of those motels he stayed at or maybe even in Duskwood, surrounded by all our friends, I would know it was him. I would, because it’s him, and it’s me, and we’re the only two people who understand each other quite the way we do.

I still believe that.

I believe it when I book my flight to Duskwood (or rather, twenty miles outside of town, which is the closest airport). I believe it when I board the airplane and find a seat next to a mother with her screaming child and when I shoot off a quick text to Eric to let him know I’ll be MIA for the next few hours, but to message me if he needs anything—and I think about how much easier this case would probably be to solve if we had Jake.

Maybe it would have been harder to find Hannah without me, but I know damn well they would’ve never found her without Jake.

Dan picks me up from the airport. I haven’t told the others yet. Something about it felt off—like I shouldn’t message them and say hey, I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but I’m booking a flight to look into why my maybe-slash-not-really boyfriend left his belongings in a forest we really wish we could forget about, and by the way, can I crash at your place?

It’s quiet on the car ride back into town. I’m looking through my messages from Eric and the group from Redlog Pines and thinking about how I’m Duskwood with this group and I want so badly to laugh because it’s ironic, but Dan wouldn’t understand. He might just call me crazy. Better yet, he would ask how I manage to get myself into these situations, and really, I don’t have an answer for him.

“How have you been?” I ask, just to break the tension, as Charlie, in my messages, tries to persuade his friends to head back into that creepy cave in the middle of the forest. He’s going to get someone killed, I think.

Dan looks over at me. “Are you still with Hackerman?”

My chest squeezes. “His name is Jake, Dan. And we were never really together.”

“Hm.” He nods like he doesn’t quite believe me. “You already know mostly everything that’s been happening here. Thomas and Hannah called it quits. They say it was some mutual decision, but it’s hard to find them in the same room together. Jessy hasn’t been out with us since. I think we remind her too much of Richy. The group’s all changed.”

“And you?” I ask.

He gives me a cheshire-like grin that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’m always the same.”

We make it to Duskwood just as the sun’s going down. Much too late for me to try and trek through the forest and retrace the steps Jake might have taken that night. Not that I think it would help give me any clues as to where he might have gone, but mostly because I wonder if it will make me feel closer to him. We’ve never been in the same place before, and even if he’s not there now—he once was.

“Can you drop me at the police station?”

Dan blinks. “The police station.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“We answered their questions for weeks, [MC]. I don’t think anything you have to tell them at this point is going to help. The investigation’s closed. Everybody knows Richy did it. He died with the fire in the mine. Everybody’s trying to move on from that.” He works his jaw. “Did you come here to open old wounds after all this time?”

I try not to show the hurt look on my face. “This isn’t about Richy. Look, Alan called me. He asked if I could look at some things. I figured it was better for me to do it in person. That’s it. Nothing to do with Richy. Nothing to do with Jessy. Nothing to do with you.”

He sighs, and I’m not entirely sure he’s going to abide by my wishes until we pull in front of a tiny building—tinier than most—that says Duskwood Police on the sign. Duskwood must not have that much crime. Well, not until this, I suppose.

“Thank you.” I tell him as I reach over to undo my seatbelt and climb out of the car. “This is a nice ride, by the way.”

He raises a hand in some mock-salute. “Need me to pick you up?”

“Nah.” I shake my head. “Think I’ll explore the town for a little bit.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs and then he’s off.

I square my shoulders and take a deep breath before opening the door to the police station. It wasn’t like Alan asked me to come down here. He hadn’t. Even during the investigation into Richy’s death and Hannah’s kidnapping, when he questioned us, he never asked me to come to Duskwood. We’d done way too many video calls and phone calls and at one point, I had asked if he thought it would be easier for me to come to Duskwood, to which he responded back, are you ready for that?

No, I hadn’t been. I’m not even so sure I was now. But knowing that Jake was alive, that here was the last place was, I had to try.

“Can I help you?” The woman at the front desk asks.

I clear my throat. “I was wondering if I could speak to Alan Bloomgate. I’m one of—I was involved in the Hannah Donfort case. My name is [MC].”

Her eyes widen. “Give me a moment.” She stands and heads to some back office—which looks to me more like a closet—and then returns with a clipped smile. “He’ll be right out.”

Apparently, she isn’t lying, because not two minutes later, Alan is stepping out from the same door and staring me down. I hold his gaze and hope it says that I’m not here to argue. I will tell him my truth, but only my truth, not Hannah’s, not Jake’s, not anybody else’s.

“I was wondering when I would see you.” He says.

I shrug one shoulder. “Isn’t a few months later better than never?”

“Let’s go into my office.” He says, and leads me around the desk and back into the closet space he had come out of. He sits behind the desk and motions for me to take a seat opposite him. “I’m just going to guess you’re not here to talk about Miss Donfort.”

“I want to see them.” I tell him. “His things. I want to see them for myself. And whatever you want from me in return, I’ll give to you.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, [MC].”

“He isn’t a game to me.” I snap back and then sit back and try to relax. “I appreciate that you called me. It’s—I helped you find Hannah. I would do it again. Even with knowing the things that we do now, I would do it all again. That’s how much that group means to me. That’s how much he means to me. I’m not asking you to break any rules or to lie for him or to—to let him hide in your basement for the next five years. I’m just asking you to show me what you found.”

He stares me down for a moment. Then, he sighs, says “wait here for a minute” and disappears to another room. When he comes back, it’s with an evidence bag in his hand filled with the objects I saw on his bodycam footage. My breath hitches in my throat.

“I can’t let you touch them.” He says as he lays them in front of me.

I stare into the eyes of the mask. “Did you tell anybody that he’s alive?”

“I don’t know that he’s alive,” is all the answer he gives, which is an answer to my question. I slide my gaze down to the black hoodie, to the dirtied sleeves and muddy hood, and think about the fact that Jake wore this. I’m so close to him.

And yet I’ve never been further away from him.

“Thank you.” I tell him. “For—for this. And for listening to me about Hannah. If you hadn’t, I—I don’t know what would have happened. How much longer he would have gone on for. If he would have ever stopped.”

Alan’s silent for a minute. Then, he clears his throat. “You know, it was strange to me. Both Hannah and yourself swore to me that neither of you knew the other.”

“I don’t.” I swear.

It was one of the (albeit many) things that didn’t make sense to me. How Hannah got a hold of my number. How she sent it to Thomas. She’d told Alan she hadn’t really remembered texting him my number at all.

“I believe you.” He reassures. “I just think it’s strange. One mistake, if you can call it that, and you throw yourself into a missing persons case to help a stranger.”

“They’re not strangers.” Even though Hannah is kind of still a stranger.

“But they were.” Alan reasons. “You had no reason to say yes to helping Thomas. I doubt anybody would have held it against you if you turned the other way. But you decided to follow this until the end. To make sure they found Hannah. And you care about them. Maybe that’s why I find that I’m more lenient with you than maybe I should be. Why you’re sitting across from me right now calling the shots. Why I’m not asking you about the hacker.”

“I wouldn’t tell you if you did.” I look him in the eye so he knows I’m telling the truth.

He returns my gaze. “Maybe that’s the other reason.”

“Hm.” I acknowledge before I turn my gaze away—from him, from the objects that I know belong to Jake and it takes everything in me not to snatch them up and run. “Well. Thank you for allowing me to steal some of your time. For letting me—” I cut myself off before I say something that makes me break down in a fit of tears in front of him. “—just thank you.”

Leaving the station is easier than coming in. I’m still not any closer to knowing where Jake is than I was when I arrived here, but there’s a comfort in knowing he walked these streets. I wonder what he would think if he knew I was here. He hadn’t wanted me to come to Duskwood when everything was happening…but now that it was over, would he be happy that I was here? That I had come to Duskwood to piece together where he might have gone? Would he track my location and come to find me and…or was I grasping at straws?

It felt like I had just gotten him back. Not really, not entirely…but knowing that he was alive, that he was out there somewhere, maybe thinking of me and looking for ways to come back, to live the life we talked about when he asked me if I was sure…that was worth it. The thought that we could maybe someday have that—even if it was a twenty percent chance.

I check my phone again to see a new message from Ash. She’s asking me if I’ve heard from Charlie in the last few hours. Apparently, he’s AWOL, and I want to help, really, but…it doesn’t really feel like that’s where I am at the moment. Not just physically—obviously—but mentally. We got lucky with Hannah. And that was really only because we had Jake. Adam didn’t have a Jake. Or…maybe he did and I just hadn’t met him yet. But I already had a Jake and I didn’t want another one.

Maybe—if I found him, I could convince him to help. That was a big maybe. Not because I thought Jake would say no. He would say yes to anything I asked of him. The maybe was whether or not I could find him. More likely, the maybe was whether or not he would find me.

Three months ago, I would have been able to come to Duskwood and have no shortage of things I wanted to do and people I wanted to see. Now, as I stand outside Duskwood’s police station, I feel nothing but loneliness. Nobody knows I’m here. I could pass Thomas on the street and he wouldn’t even know it. I could run into Jessy at the library and she would walk by me without even a second thought. Why would they? I hadn’t told them I was here.

So, with nothing left to do, I walked. Toward the town center. Toward the library that Jessy showed me on our walk through Duskwood. Toward the Rainbow Café where I knew that Cleo and Hannah had spent a lot of their time. Toward the Black Swan. Toward—

Ah, what the hell.

I had nothing better to do and The Aurora seemed like a great place to drown my sorrows. To think about my next steps. To figure out—now that I was in Duskwood—what I planned to do. The thing about Jake being so secretive (and on the run) was that I couldn’t retrace his steps. I wasn’t able to ask if anyone had seen him. One, because he would make sure nobody had. And two, because three months was a long time to forget somebody’s face if you didn’t know who you were looking for.

I pull open the door to the bar and step inside. Immediately, I’m hit with the stench of whiskey and a handful of chatter. Duskwood’s a small town. And The Aurora definitely proves it. The bartenders move melodically around each other, serving patrons on the other side of the bar. If you walk down further, there’s a handful of tables.

And dead in the center is a table with my friends. Or, some of them. Dan and Cleo and Lilly. Could I still call them my friends? Ex-friends, maybe? Acquaintances? I didn’t know what they were. Or how to address them. It wasn’t like we had gotten into a fight. We didn’t stop talking for any reason other than that we did. We stopped talking.

I make a beeline for the bar to avoid a confrontation and plant myself on one of the stools. One of the bartenders—a girl cute with bleach blonde hair and brown Bambi eyes—asks what I want and I channel my inner Dan to order a whiskey—neat.

Looking over my shoulder, I focus on the table of them. On Lilly, who’s smiling at something Cleo said. On Dan, who’s the only one of them who actually knows I’m here. But even he’s focused on the conversation they’re having. It’s strange—to see Dan a part of something I’m not sure he would have been before. It’s nice.

“[MC]?”

I turn my head away from the table of my friends and focus my attention across the bar on someone I should’ve expected to see. “Phil.”

“I thought I recognized your voice from when we talked.” He smiles. “I wasn’t sure, but I saw you staring longingly at them—” He nods towards Dan and Cleo and Lilly. “—and I knew. What brings you around here? I expected you to show up maybe a few months ago, but by now, I thought you’d moved on without us.”

I was tired of the words move on. Like I’d had a choice. Like the people from this town might open their arms and welcome me back into their lives. So I’d been part of the group who’d saved Hannah Donfort. So had a lot of people. It didn’t make me special and everyone here knew it.

I offer him a smile in return. “I’m looking for somebody.”

“Anybody I know?” He asks.

I shake my head. “Nah. At least nobody you would recognize.” I pause. “How’s Jessy?”

“She’s—Jessy.” He answers, like that is an answer. “I don’t know if she’ll ever really be okay with the way things happened with Richy. I wouldn’t expect her to. Obviously. But I don’t know. I think I just thought she would have gone back to her normal life by now. And then I remember that most of her life revolved around him. He was her best friend. She worked for him. And I’m trying to be patient about that. But—” He shakes his head. “Maybe you should talk to her.”

“She doesn’t know I’m in town.”

“Okay.” He hums. “So, you’re not in town for my sister. And you’re not in town for your group of friends because they’re over there and you look like you’d rather be anywhere else. There’s always Hannah, but I don’t think you knew her that well. Or at all. Would I be right to assume this is about a certain hacker who helped to find Hannah?”

“He didn’t help find Hannah.” I defend. “He was the entire reason we found Hannah. I would have never been able to do it on my own. Even with the others’ help. He’s the only reason we found out about—” I pause before I say something I maybe shouldn’t. “It doesn’t matter. He’s the only reason we found her. Everything I did was just dumb luck.”

“That wasn’t what the news said.” A voice cuts in and I turn my attention from Phil to focus on the stranger that slides into the seat beside me. Not too close—a couple inches away. I don’t recognize him. I don’t know him. But I don’t know every person in Duskwood. Maybe a total of like nine or ten. “I’m sorry to interrupt. But I heard you had a lot to do with finding Hannah Donfort. The news said you were some kind of hero.”

I offer him a tight smile. “That’s nice of them. But…if they knew my—friend—knew what he did to find her, I don’t think I would be as much of a hero as everybody says.”

“That’s noble.” He says, eyes meeting mine, and it strikes me at once how handsome he is. He has dark hair. Bright green eyes. Focus, [MC]. I scold. You have a…a someone.

My phone buzzes.

ERIC SENT A PHOTO.

ERIC: What do you make of this?

I sigh and click on the photo. It’s of—some object. Much like the one that was addressed to me on the envelope in Adam’s glove compartment. The image is a bit different—but I don’t know enough about what it means to have an answer as to why.

ME: Was this one addressed to me?

ERIC: Nope. Ash.

“Are you okay?” Phil asks.

I clear my throat. “I’m a popular person—apparently.” A thought strikes. “Have you ever heard of a place called Redlog Pines?”

Phil frowns. “No.”

I turn to look at the stranger. “You?”

“Redlog Pines is a small town about two hundred miles north of Duskwood.” He answers. “Known for their wooded forests, much like Duskwood.”

“Why are you looking into a place with forests as creepy as ours?” Phil asks, incredulously. “Didn’t you get enough of that with Hannah’s case?”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “You would think.”

“Hey, [MC]!”

I wince at the sound of Dan’s voice. Shooting Phil a look that screams please help me to which he shakes his head amusedly, I turn and plaster on a fake smile as I take in the shocked looks on Cleo and Lilly’s faces. I should have known better than to come to The Aurora and talk to Phil when the three of them were having a conversation across the room. I should have known they would sooner or later see me. I just hoped it was later.

“Hey.” I hop off my stool and make my way across the bar to them. “It’s, uh, fancy seeing the three of you here.”

“What are you doing here?” Cleo asks.

“I haven’t really figured that out.” My eyes meet Lilly’s. “It sounds crazy to say it out loud. But I was hoping that—I’m not sure if Lilly told you—”

“That Jake’s alive.” Cleo nods. “None of us ever really thought he wasn’t.”

I don’t think she means it as a dig—but it still feels like one. Like she’s saying you gave up on him you gave up on him you gave up on him even though she’s not and she didn’t really know him and the only person I can talk to at this table who even might understand is Lilly and even—Jake didn’t confide in her the way he did me.

“Right.” I acknowledge. “So I thought that maybe if I came here, I could trace his steps from when he was here and—I haven’t really thought that far ahead. It’s not like I thought he left me any clues in the forest or anything like that. I don’t think he expected me to be here. He hadn’t wanted me to be the last time we talked. But that was before everything happened.”

Lilly’s eyes track behind me. “Does Jake still have Nymos on your phone?”

“Uh.” I furrow my brows. “I think so. I hadn’t heard from him in a while, but I went back and read through our messages after I talked to Alan and…my phone glitched, like it used to when Jake had hacked it. And then this message appeared on my screen.”

“And by chance, can Nymos track your location?”

“What—” I shake my head. “Maybe. I don’t think I ever really asked him. It didn’t seem necessary at the time.”

“Uh huh.” She focuses on me once more. “Let’s say, for one minute, that Jake has access to Nymos who has access to your location.”

Cleo must catch onto something I’m not sure of. “Jake didn’t want you here.”

“Uh, thank you?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” She waves me off. “He didn’t want you in Duskwood. He had been adamant about that when we were talking about the mine. That’s why he went. If you showed up in Duskwood—”

“Nymos would have alerted him.” Dan finishes.

“Okay…” I’m not entirely sure I’m on the same page as them. “So—you think that Jake found out when I came to Duskwood.”

“Correct.” Lilly beams like she just solved life’s greatest mystery.

“And you think he would—come find me?”

She smiles sympathetically at me—like I’m the world’s biggest idiot for not realizing what she has been trying to say sooner. “I think he already has.”

“You think Jake’s in Duskwood.” I deadpan.

“[MC].” Cleo grabs my shoulders and turns me around. “We think he’s in this bar.”

Stranger, as I had nicknamed him—AKA the guy sitting beside me at the bar, with Phil and Redlog Pines (which he probably only knew about because of me) and the whole Hannah being kidnapped and not taking any of the credit thing—was looking back at me. So was Phil. Like they thought I was the crazy one. Like it would’ve been so hard for him to look and me and say it’s me or anything that might have clued me into the fact that—

“Jake?” I whisper, because I’ve lost quite a bit of sleep over the past couple of months and I’m not one hundred percent sure what—or who—I’m seeing is real. “Are you here?”

He tilts his head and smiles at me. Actually smiles. A bit shyly, like it’s something he’s not used to doing, but maybe like it’s something he could get used to. And I think about how terrible I probably look right now because I’m not wearing makeup and my hair is tousled from constantly pulling at it and my clothes are wrinkled from the plane and the police station and I look like a mess. But our relationship has never been about looks. Clearly. I didn’t even know the person I’d been talking to until Lilly and Cleo and even Dan pointed out the obvious.

“If I—” I close my eyes and open them again. Nope. Still there. “I need you to still be there by the time I reach you because it’s been a—” I sniffle. “—it’s been a rough few months and I don’t think I could handle you disappearing again.”

He stands from the stool he was sitting on and shuffles his feet. Like he’s not quite sure where he’s supposed to stand. If he thinks about moving, I’ll tackle him onto the floor of The Aurora and then apologize to Phil later. It feels like everything I wanted is right here in front of me. And I’m scared to death that it’s not real.

“What’s one thing you would take with you if you were stranded on an island?”

His smile stretches. “My computer.”

And that—that’s what breaks me. I think I might start blubbering like an idiot but I don’t remember the time it takes for me to cross the measly twenty feet between us. All I remember is grabbing his black hoodie—because of course—and dragging him to me. I don’t kiss him, despite how much I want to, because I don’t want our first kiss to be tainted with my snot and tears. Instead, I bury my face in his collarbone and wrap my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life.

Because I can. Because he isn’t dead.

“Y—You’re here.” I pull back and cup his face with my hands. “How are you here?”

“You came to Duskwood.” He responds, and then—hesitantly—he presses his lips to my forehead in a kiss. “Alan called you.”

“He found your things in the forest.” I whisper back. “He said they’d been there a while. The police hadn’t searched the forest because they assume you died in the mine.”

“They aren’t looking for me here.” He confirms. “I didn’t expect it to take so long for them to find my belongings, but I anticipated that you would find out. At the time, it wasn’t safe for me to reach out and contact you. They kept on my trail for a while before they assumed I died in the mine with Richy.”

“Why didn’t you contact me then?” I ask. “Is it because of what I last messaged you? I didn’t mean it—I swear, I thought you were dead. If I had known you were alive, I would have waited, however long it took. I wasn’t trying to give up on you.”

“Hey.” He places both hands on either side of my face. “I know. I know that, [MC]. That was never why I didn’t reach out to you. I know you said you wanted this life with me. But I didn’t want that for you. But I was selfish. I couldn’t let you go. So I was trying to find a way to make both of those things true. But I was always coming back to you.”

“And did you?”

“Come back to you?” He asks.

I sniffle. “Find a way to make both of those things true.”

“Not entirely.” He admits. “Nymos alerted me you had boarded a plane headed in the direction of Duskwood and I—” He shook his head. “I knew I would find you here.”

“You could have found me sooner.”

He lets go of my face and he feels like he takes my skin with him. “It wasn’t that easy.”

“It could have been.” I demand.

I’m angry again. Now that I know he’s alive and okay and that he could have found me, I’m angry that he didn’t. I told him I would choose that life with him. Over and over and over. He didn’t need to make the decision for me. He didn’t need to try and protect me. And yes, maybe the fact that he did makes my heart flutter a tiny little bit, but that’s besides the point.

“I told you before you left me.” I tell him and I’m aware it sounds like we’ve been in a relationship for five years and I’m aware that everybody in here is watching and listening in on our conversation and they probably all know we’re who we are, two people involved in helping to find the kidnapped Hannah Donfort, and maybe that’s all we’ll ever be in this town. But I would rather be the girl who found Hannah Donfort in Duskwood with him than be me anywhere else. “You told me you would let me go with you.”

“That was before I told you I loved you.”

My heart skips a beat. It screams I love you I love you I love you back, but I say— “What does that have to do with anything?”

He looks somewhat amused. Like he knows I would never hold it against him. It’s clear to both of us that I wouldn’t because even though I’m glaring up at him with my furrowed eyebrows and my lips pouted, I’m still pressed tightly against him. His hands—even though they’ve moved from my face—are now resting on my hips. Pulling my tighter to him. There’s no space in between us. If it was up to me, I’m pretty sure there never would be again.

“[MC].” He says, and oh god I wish he would say my name every day for the rest of his life. “Have I—in the short time we have known each other—ever struck you as the type of person who says I love you? But with you…” His words are a whisper against my lips. “It’s easy to fall back into old emotions with you.”

“I want to be angry with you.” I tell him.

He shakes his head. “No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.” I agree. “But I might be if you don’t kiss me.”

He brought one finger underneath my chin and tilted it up until our lips were separated by a fraction of an inch. My eyelids fluttered. I didn’t care that everyone in here was about to see just how much Jake meant to be. I didn’t care because I had waited too long for this. And then—just as I’m leaning toward him to press our lips together, he whispers— “[MC]?”

“Hm.” I acknowledge.

“Who’s Eric?”

My eyelids crack open and I shove at his chest. “That’s what you’re worried about right now? Here I am, in front of you, covered in snot and tears and who-knows-what-else because you’re here right now, and you’re worried about some guy I don’t even know?”

“Who’s Eric?” He repeats.

“Ugh.” I run my hands through my hair and take a step back. “I don’t know. He’s the other side of Thomas or whatever you want to call him. If we lived in a different town.” I glare back at him and try not to admit that I think his jealous side is a little cute. “He messaged me. Thought I picked up his friend from some parking lot and I didn’t, but his friend sent him my number, and it was Hannah all over again. I’m trying to help them.”

“This Adam has been sending you a lot of videos.”

“You know I hate when you hack my phone.” I complain, even though I really don’t. Even though I had prayed for him to help me with this case. “I really don’t know Adam. Like—even less than I know Eric.

“But you know Eric.”

“For like a week.” I reassure. “He added me to this group chat with him and like three other friends of his. They’re desperate to find Adam who has apparently dropped off the face of the earth and I don’t know what to do. I had you with Hannah’s case. And you knew her. And they—” I look over my shoulder at Cleo and Dan and Lilly, who are pretending like they’re not listening in even though I know and Jake knows they are. “—they knew her. And obviously Adam’s friends must know him but I don’t and you don’t and there is no Jake in Redlog Pines.”

“I don’t trust him.” He shakes his head. “Any of them.”

I laugh. “Jake, you didn’t trust half the people in this bar when we first started talking.” I look over at Phil and then Dan. “It doesn’t mean they committed a crime. If I had backed off when you asked me to help you find Hannah, we may never have.”

“I thought that was all thanks to me.” He sounds smug, like that little smiley face he loved to annoy me with (AKA make me fall in love with him). “Did he flirt with you?”

“No.” I deadpan. “I think he was focused on his missing friend.”

“I was focused on my missing sister.” He shoots back.

I close my mouth. Alright. He has a point. But I wasn’t flirting with Eric. He was focused on finding Adam and I was focused on mourning—and then finding—Jake. Maybe it felt like Eric and I were two sides of the same coin. Maybe that’s why I agreed to help him. Because I didn’t want to happen to him what I thought had happened to Jake—to me.

“You’re being ridiculous.” I say instead. “How do you think I could ever entertain the idea of being with somebody else when for the past three months—more than that if you count the time we have actually had together—I’ve been focused on you? On discussing Hannah with you and then talking to you about anything and everything and then worrying about you and then hating you a little for convincing me you should me the one to go into the mine and then mourning you when it was hard to even think about you and then finding you?”

His eyes are wide. I think I’ve rendered him speechless. Which—serves him right. I know he’s not somebody who serves their feelings up on a silver platter. I know that. Obviously, I knew that from the first time I spoke to him. Back when he was nothing more than ??? and I was almost convinced that Dan was right and he was the Man Without A Face—a thought that I now hate with everything in me. But I need him to trust me. Jealousy streak and FBI and the missing persons cases aside, he needs to trust me.

“Trust me.” I cup the sides of his face again. “He’s nothing like you.”

He swallows. “Some people might consider that to be a perk.”

“I don’t.” I say.

And then I’m kissing him and it feels like coming home.

#duskwood #duskwood everbyte #duskwood game #duskwood jake #duskwood jake x mc #moonvale everbyte #moonvale #duskwood fanfic #duskwood mc #everbyte game #everbyte studios

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yinorathedragontamer · 5 months

Text

Wings? [Charles Rowland x fem! alive! supernatural! reader]

a/n: this is quite the long oneshot, longer than expected, but i really enjoyed writing this! i hope you guys enjoy, and feel free to request fics such as these whenever you'd like <3

word count: around 2k.

"Here, this will be your room, rent is weekly and that is your roommate [name]" Jenny says as she hands Crystal the keys to the room, and gestures a little vaguely at the girl standing infront of them both. "hey Jenny, i thought you said i'd get one roommate, not three?" you ask as you glance at the two boys standing behind who you now know as Crystal, one of them looking intrigued and the other mainly just confused, and Crystal tilts her head a little as if she just made a new discovery "did you forget to take your meds again [name]? there's just Crystal" Jenny rolls her eyes and turns around to leave, saying something about why she even lets you stay here as she walks back to the front of the shop. "so, uh, you can see us?" one of the boys asks, and you take a step back from the sudden startle "oh, sorry mate, didn't mean to startle you, i'm Charles, and this is Edwin" he gives you a charming smile, and you quickly look at Crystal, who, hopefully gently, jabs him in the ribs with her elbow. "Sorry about that, don't worry, i see them too, as you heard from Jenny, my name's Crystal" she holds out a hand to shake, which you slightly hesitantly take "i'm [name]..." "so, are you a psychic like Crystal or have you had a near-death experience?" the one who you heard was called Edwin asks as he takes out a notebook and a pen to write down your answer, and you notice Charles giving him a look that says 'really dude?'. "uh, well, i'm not really sure? strange things have been happening since i was a child, doctors gave me meds for it but they didn't exactly work" you answer. "hm, what kind of strange things? we're the dead boy detectives, me and Charles, i suppose Crystal here joined us recently, but we solve supernatural cases" "yeah, my demon ex-boyfriend stole my memories so, yeah, i'm trying to get them back" Crystal adds. "dead boy detectives? are you two ghosts?" you ask. "yeah, you got that right" Charles says with a bright smile, the type that you would instantly think about if you had to think about him. "right, okay, in that case..." you start to tell your story. "for as long as i can remember, i've been seeing things that others never seemed to notice, the earliest memory i have was that i went to a museum, i was quite young, and i saw someone staring at a wall, and when i got closer i saw that his entire face was cut up, like, something had mauled him, i ran away crying, but my mom said it was all in my head" you continue. "another time was a few years later, i was on the school playground, and since people said i was weird, other kids refused to play with me. i saw this dog, a real sweetheart, and started playing with it, it was only when a teacher came to ask me what i was doing that i was told there was nothing there, and when i looked back at the dog, it dissappeared". "any more recent things? something that doesn't include seeing ghosts? because that would indicate you probably just had a near death experience that you didn't realize, such as getting run over by a, what was it called Charles? a car?" Edwin asks, "jeez, when did you die?" you say with clear disbelief that he forgot what exactly a car was for a second. "he died in the edwardian era, then spent like, 70 years in hell before he got out, i died in the 80's, and stuck around with him" Charles says with a slight shrug. "oh shit, okay, so to answer your question, it was like, eight months ago, i woke up, and i had this" you take off your shirt, Edwin instantly averts his eyes to the floor, meanwhile Charles looks at Edwin instead. you turn around, and show them the tattoo of two bug-like wings going from your shoulderblades down your back. "damn, those are.... really cool"

Crystal says with a nod, and Edwin quickly writes it down. "and what's so strange about that? isn't it just a cool tattoo?" he inquires, not quite getting the strange thing about them yet. "well, i never got a tattoo before in my life, i never got these willingly, and sometimes, i have this nearly painful ache on my back, and when i do it's the worst where the tattoo begins, on my shoulder blades" you answer as you put your shirt back on, much to Edwin's relief as he really wasn't used to seeing stuff like that out of nowhere.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

that first meeting? that was a few weeks ago, and you have become close friends with all of them.

Crystal has become like a sister to you, Niko has joined the team now too after you guys saved her, and even Edwin has been more kind to you, he has his charms sometimes.

and Charles? oh, where to begin.

you two are like two peas in a pod, and at first, Edwin did NOT like that, but he's been more than kind about it now.

at this point, he practically ALWAYS tells you two to go together for cases, and as close as you two are, you hate it.

why? you've fallen, and not even a little.

those smiles he gives you, the way his first concern was you when he got out of that loop in the haunted house, the way he always offers to put your stuff in his infinite bag, the accent, the looks he gives you sometimes, and it's terrible!

you swear its unnatural, to fall for a person who's been dead for decades, to have fallen for someone who probably doesn't love you that way.

nah, you're reading into things, atleast, thats what you tell yourself.

he however? he's the exact same.

the reason why Edwin keeps pairing you two up is because he figured out that Charles likes you, a lot, to the point where Charles had to make a deal with Niko for her to shut up about it too, before you found out.

no way you'd like a person who's already dead right?

when he thought of you, he thought about you making fun of his accent, your wing tattoos, the way you tried to keep his focus on solving the case and on you instead of the murderous scene when you guys were in that house, the way your grin was to die for as you asked about what the 80's were like, the way you hugged him and told him to never do that again as soon as he was out of that dreaded loop, he could swear he saw tears of relief in those gorgeous eyes of yours.

"hey Edwin, i saw 12 cats in total outside, just so you know" you say as you walk in with the groceries for the week, since you and Crystal did still have to eat. Edwin nods and quietly thanks you for helping him count all the cats, Charles walks through the wall into your bedroom before you can say anything, he wanted to tell you how he feels but, was it worth the risk? it would be rather awkward since you'd still have to talk to eachother nearly constantly.

you notice it, though, and you quickly take off your jacket before going into your room too.

"hey Charles, i need to talk to you about something" you say a little nervously, were you really going to do this? really?

"ofcourse mate, what's up?" he tries to sound relaxed, but you don't seem to notice as you quickly ramble on about something he only understands half of.

"yeahsoireallylikeyoulikemorethanafriendandicantreallyhandlehidingitanymoreandireallyloveyoursmileandialwaysendupthinkingaboutyouwhenevericantsleepandihadtopayNikooffusingmanga'stoconvincehertokeepquietbutyeahthatsallpleasedonthateme-" Charles looks at you with confusion, and you take a deep breath.

"okay, so, long story short, summery of that ramble, i really like you, i don't know how, since like, i'm alive and you're dead- wait was that rude? i didn't mean-" before you can finish, you feel his hands on your cheeks as he kisses you, and ofcourse you kiss back.

he pulls away, and look you in the eyes with a loving smile, one you have never seen before "i like you too, so don't even worry about it"

"we'll figure everything out together, yeah?" all you can do is nod as a grin finds its way on you face.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

you woke up with a scream.

your back hurts like hell, and you can feel blood coming down onto the sheets.

in a panic, you quickly go to the bathroom, rushing right past a just woken up Crystal who looks worried.

once in the bathroom, you take off your shirt, though not without struggle as the pain on your back makes it extremely painful to lift your arms so high.

as you take off your shirt, your eyes widen in even more panic as you see the blood that seeped onto it, and you turn around infront of the mirror, seeing blood trickling down your back from your shoulder blades, and... two wings, covered in that same blood, they look exactly like the tattoo you had, but then real.

before you can do any more panicking you hear a knock on the door.

"[name]? you in there? what's wrong?" it's Crystal, though before you can say anything you hear more voices.

"Love? you alright? i'm coming in there if you don't answer, you sounded like you were in pain" Charles. oh no.

he can't see this?! what would he think? you look disgusting, with a bedhead and a bloody back.

"no! no, please just let Edwin in, i can't let you two see me like this.." you say as a few tears roll down your face, apparently your voice sounded like it too as Charles was ready to barge in through the wall anyway if Crystal didn't keep a hold on his arm.

less than a minute later, Edwin comes in, and his eyes widen as he sees the state you are in, and he quickly leaves again.

you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror as he comes back with a book on... fairy's?

"it's not just about fairy's, it's also about fairy type blessings that they might give to people who went through a lot of negetivity in their life, and what type of blessings they give, clearly we need to figure out yours." he explains before you can question him.

"here it says it's a blessing of the ignored, given to someone who got ignored and waved away whenever they tried to say or convince someone of anything, and the wings were bound to sprout when you feel like you're ready for it, even though you aren't aware of what you're ready for" he explains, and he takes a good look at the 'instructions' of how to atleast clean them up.

"right, i'd say, take a hot shower, put on something like a... backless top or dress? i believe you have those? and we can show Charles, Crystal and Niko and we'll figure out what to do"

all you can do it nod as he leaves again, and you hear some light arguing between him and Charles before you hear Crystal interrupting them and convincing Charles to just sit down at the table and wait.

you took a good, warm shower, though you could instantly tell your wings were sensitive, but tough at the same time.

you put a towel around yourself, and luckily you have a door straight to your bedroom, which Crystal uses aswell, as then she doesn't have to walk past Charles and Edwin when she has showered.

you put on a backless top that you got a year back, but never got to wear as it's usually too cold for it, and some simple jeans and shoes.

you walk out, and see Charles instantly looking relieved as he gets up, though he can tell there's something going on as it's much too cold for that top, and Crystal walks past you in awe as she comes out of her room too, Niko also just walked in from the door with Edwin, and he nods to you to turn around.

and you do.

at first your'e nervous, but then you hear the gasps of awe and you feel Charles gently touch one of them, which makes it twitch a little.

"i did more research when you were showering, turns out the first times are most painful, but you can control wether or not they are as a tattoo or as usable wings, though obviously you must train to do anything with them at all, such as flying. i reccomend that you get more backless tops or tanktops that leave the shoulderblades free, so if we're on a case you could simply take off your shirt and free those wings incase it's needed"

you nod, and before you do anything else, you turn back around, and you spread them.

you look at the floor, but Charles lifts your head back up to meet his eyes, full of wonder. "those are awesome, yeah? we'll help you figure everything out, as always"

"i believe we've gotten a new case, huh?" Crystal says with a slight smile, and you smile back.

you let your wings relax, and without even thinking too much of it, they go back to their tattoo form.

"i suppose we do" Edwin replies.

#charles rowland x reader #dead boy detectives #crystal palace #edwin payne #charles rowland #jenny the butcher #dbd #dbd charles rowland x reader #charles rowland x fem! reader #platonic! edwin payne x reader #platonic! crystal palace x reader

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daengtokki · 10 months

Text

𝐿𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝒟𝒶𝓉𝑒

Kim Seungmin/Female Reader

wc: 11k

rating: mature/explicit ಇ

comments: thanks everyone for the likes and reblogs and feedback! (´︶`) knowing someone is enjoying my fics makes writing seungmin so much easier. technically this is the last part, but not really...

⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ｡ ⋆

→ Blind Date

→ Second Date

→ Third Date

Part 4 of 4

Seungmin goes quiet after that, relaxes against the arm of the couch. You’re on the opposite side, doing the same. You watch each other carefully , but nobody makes a move, and nobody starts to speak.

You wonder if there was something you could have done to avoid all of this drama. Four and a half months of wondering; of being so down you can barely make it to work some days. Both of you have been really bad at this.

“Yes, I know it’s complicated.”

Counting the days and weeks until Seungmin comes back to you has been excruciating, sometimes anxiety inducing, and the only thing really keeping you together.

As of today it’s been 136 days since you spent the night with him. Twenty weeks, almost, since you looked at him face to face—touched him, kissed him, desperately wanted to confess how you’ve already fallen for him, and you never want to leave his side again.

But he did text you three days ago.

A part of you feels like giving up, because maybe this has gone on for far too long.

It’s nothing that Seungmin has done. He hasn’t said anything to you about things likely not working out. He talks to you in the same sweet, cheery way he always has when he actually has time to text, or call. You don’t resent him for his lack of communication, ever, because you know his lifestyle is worlds away from yours.

But the part of you that’s crazy about him sits and thinks: he can call for a five minute conversation, ask me how I am before I completely fall apart. You think…why hasn’t he messaged back? It takes a few seconds.

You hate having these thoughts. But you’re only human, and you have so much empty time to think about him.

It’s just not the same for him. It might never be the same for him.

Right now you’re staring out of your classroom window, completely lost in thought. The kids are working quietly, and it’s honestly the first time all day where you’ve been truly alone in your head.

There’s a loud knock on the door, and it makes you, and your students, jump.

“Come in…”

The door opens slowly, and the face that peeks through the door is a familiar one.

“Hey,” Choonhee waits a moment, then enters and closes the door behind her. She grabs a chair and finds a spot to sit directly in front of, across your desk.

“Hi, what’s up?”

“I’m on my way out, but I wanted to see you before I left. I keep missing you, and you’re not answering my messages.” The look she gives you is a little bit questioning, and a little bit irritated.

“Sorry, I’ve just had a lot on my mind. I’m trying to get out of this slump.”

“Slump? The same one you’ve been in for the last…” she gestures vaguely at nothing, “month? Maybe longer, I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” you manage, but it comes out shaky. You feel your throat tighten, and the air is pushed out of your lungs. Your eyes sting with tears. You can’t do this here.

“Hey hey, I’m sorry.” Choonhee starts to stand, “go pull yourself together, I’ll watch the class.”

You inhale deeply and make your way to the restroom. Luckily you have it to yourself, because when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, tears are starting to stream down your cheeks. The result of bottling up until you explode.

Talking to Choonhee about this was always an option, but you haven’t. For some reason, you didn’t want her know how deep the cut is that Seungmin has made in you.

Her blind date was probably never supposed to turn into this; something serious, something you want, maybe more than anything you’ve ever wanted. You feel stupid and childish about it, because you know who he is. Sometimes you have to remind yourself that it was him that initiated date number two, and three, sort of, otherwise you’ll convince yourself you somehow forced him into all of this.

It takes far too long for you to finish crying and clean yourself up, but she’s still sitting there waiting when you return.

“I’ll be over tonight, and we’re going to talk it out. Okay?” She says.

You nod, eyes still red, makeup probably giving you two black eyes.

“I have to get going, I’ll see you later. Your phone went off while you were in the bathroom.”

You watch her as she walks out, then look to your students. In a few minutes, they’ll be dismissed. And you can go home and finish the crying that you’ve started.

First, you sit and poke the screen of your phone. It’s just a text message.

No, it’s not just a text message. It’s Seungmin. Choonhee probably looked, but all she would’ve seen is the contact name for him; SM.

Weeks ago, you almost changed it to Minnie, but you didn’t. The impersonal, secretive SM remained. You unlock your phone and open it.

I hope you had a good day. You’re just leaving work, I think…if I have my time right

And just like that, he pulls you back up, and back in. He says the right thing at just the right time. Although today, he he did miss it by a few minutes.

Now you battle with whether or not you text him back immediately, or wait until you get home. Neither feels like the right thing to do. You stare down at the message until it’s time for you to dismiss your class, thinking of what to say to him.

It’s personal. He took note of the time, and remembered when it is you usually leave.

Part of you feels like crying again, but your heart is fluttering. You hate this.

———

“I got your favorite!” Choonhee starts unloading the bag of food she brought with her. “Don’t look so defeated over there.”

She let herself in while you sat folded up on the couch. You’re still looking at your phone, trying to figure out what to say to him. Should you keep it casual and tell him your day was alright? Lie?

No, you could tell him the truth; that it was a rough day, and you’ve had a lot of days like this lately because you haven’t seen him in such a long time. But you have no idea how he’d react to that. Maybe he would feel guilty about not texting more, or feel bad because he’s been too busy to see you when he is in Seoul.

Or maybe he would feel overwhelmed by it, and decide enough was enough.

Seungmin—the Seungmin you know, at least, has always come off very laidback. Open when he needed to be, but not overly so. He’s a little bit reserved, but so many moments with him have been…cute.

And Chicago. It’s been so long since Chicago—long enough that the memory is fading a little. You have to think back on it and keep yourself there, in that moment, to remember all the detail. It’s all still there, in your head.

Finally, you start to type.

“Hi Minnie. I had a rough day today…I hope I get to see you again soon.”

You stare at it until Choonhee clears her throat in an attempt to get your attention.

You read it once more, then send it.

“Okay, dinner is served. Eat and tell me what’s been bothering you.”

You set your phone face down on the table and take a few bites before getting into it. Starting the conversation will be the most difficult.

So you just start.

“This is a little bit my fault, isn’t it?” Choonhee listened quietly, but you could tell she wasn’t expecting this to be about him. “I pushed this on you. I knew he spoke to you back in…June? I think it was June. But I didn’t know you saw each other again after the first date.”

“Yeah, there was a second date. And a third. And, well…ya know.”

Her eyebrows raise, “what? Fourth, fifth?”

“No, we slept together.”

She’s silent for a long moment, but her eyes remain fixed on you.

“When I went home in July. Remember?”

She’s still silent.

“I haven’t seen him since then.”

“Seungmin doesn’t like opening up to people. He doesn’t do that. Or he didn’t, at least. Are you sure you didn’t just…dream it?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I didn’t dream about having sex with him and then convince myself it really happened.”

Choonhee throws her hands up and waves your remark away, “okay I’m sorry, I’m just…surprised. I mean, even the multiple dates is a little surprising.”

“Then why did you even set us up?”

She shrugs, and then struggles to find the right words, “I don’t know…you were both here, and alone. I didn’t want you to spend the holiday by yourself. I thought you’d like him…I guess I was right. I’m not usually good with matches.

“So…are you saying I should just move on?”

“No, absolutely not! Text him right now, and tell him you want to see him when he gets home. He doesn’t get to fuck and run. I don’t care who he is.”

She goes quiet for a few seconds, but you can tell she’s frustrated and deep in thought. “I knew you’d like him. I’m sorry, I made this mess. If he doesn’t get himself together and talk to you like he should, I’ll go find him myself.”

———

By the time your text message gets to Seungmin, he’s home, undressed, and about to hop into a very hot shower. He smiles when he reads Minnie, because in the far too few messages exchanged, you’ve mostly called him Seungmin. His smile fades when he reads the rest.

He knows he’s been bad at this. Not just bad, actually—he’s been pathetic. He’s ghosted you, and strung you along for weeks.

No, he thinks. It’s been months of sporadic texting. Every time he was home, or close to home, he ignored you. Not maliciously, of course, and ignored is a strong word. He messaged you, but it really was the bare minimum. Especially after the last time you were together; you gave yourself to him, and Seungmin took all that he could.

Now he can’t admit to you how much it scared him.

He sets his phone down for now, and climbs into the shower—because once again, his mind, body, and everything in between is tired.

He’s so tired, he feels like he could cry. Maybe if he just let go, let himself wrap around someone and cry into their chest, he would feel better.

———

“When did he text you last?” Choonhee is cleaning up the table, throwing things into the sink, and generally doing a terrible job of tidying. But she means well, and you let her at it. “Has it been a while?”

“Three days ago, before today. He sent a message while you were in my classroom earlier.”

“Oh, is that who the buzz was? Did you answer back? Maybe you should just make him wait around.”

“I replied right before we ate, only because it took me a while to figure out what to say.”

You’re back on the couch now, phone in hand, eyes staring at the stagnant message thread. Figuring out his schedule is tough sometimes, and you try (and usually fail) to stay off of Twitter and fan sites. Right now you’re sifting through them, though—looking for anything new.

You pull up a few airport photos from earlier today. Seungmin is hidden behind a mask and a hat, but you can see his eyes. He looks tired.

It makes your heart sink. You return to your message thread again and read through the last few texts; they feel more and more impersonal as time goes on, and that makes your heart sink, too.

Maybe he is pulling away from you.

“I know saying this won’t help, but do not let this take over. Don’t let him get into your head like this.”

“It’s too late for that.”

Choonhee grabs your arm and shakes it furiously, “he’s just a guy!”

———

Seungmin is flat on his back, covers fluffed up all around him, a pillow under his head, another under his feet. No matter what he does, he’s uncomfortable. He desperately wants and needs to fall asleep, but it’s alluding him. His brain won’t shut up.

The room is chilly, and that’s usually what does the trick. Cold room, warm bed, and he’s out like a light.

He picks up his phone and reads your text again.

Hi Minnie. I had a rough day today…I hope I get to see you again soon.

If only he could figure out what to say back to you. There are so many things he wants to say, and so few ways he can think of to type it out.

Even if he were to see you face to face, he’d be lost for words. Seungmin is not one to let people in, but he has already let you in.

And now he’s stupidly pushing you away.

He pulls up a photo of you and stares at it. This wasn’t the way he planned on relaxing, but his hand is finding it’s way under his shirt anyway, touching his stomach, slowly moving downward until reaches the waistband of his sweatpants.

Thinking of your one night together, somehow still vivid in his head after all this time, is enough to get him hard. And looking at you…he runs his hand down the length of his cock, grabs tight, and strokes himself slowly. The breath he lets out is shaky. He has to be quiet.

———

“Is he?” You look at her, only slightly defeated. “…just a guy?”

“You slept with him, you should know.”

“He’s not.”

The look she gives you is almost enough to make you rethink what you just said.

“I promise you, beneath everything, he’s like any other guy you’ve dated who got too close, freaked out, and disappeared.”

You shake your head. Then your phone buzzes in your hand, and the feeling makes your heart jump to your throat, and your stomach sink all at once. You don’t immediately move your eyes to the screen—you can’t.

“Was that him?”

Now you look. SM. You nod.

you still want to see me?

You will see him again, and you’ll tell him exactly how you feel.

“What did he say?”

You turn your phone so Choonhee can read the message. She rolls her eyes.

“He sounds like a guy. I’m sorry I got you into this…but, you are going to see him again I assume.”

“Yeah, of course.”

———

It’s not until you’re in bed, hours later, that you open his text in an attempt to answer. But it might be better to do this in the morning, because sending one and waiting for his reply is going to keep you up all night.

You stare anyway, trying to get your thoughts in order; your words, your feelings. Do you want him to know how you really feel now, or when you have him in front of you? Can you even get the right words out when he’s in front of you?

You open your notes app and begin working on a reply.

You know I want to see you, Seungmin. I’m trying to be patient and understanding, but it’s so hard when you’re on my mind every day. I hope you’re getting some rest, and I hope you’re doing well. And I hope I can see you before you leave again.

You fall asleep writing. And in the morning, there he is again. One text message sent at 5am.

I’m so sorry. I should have made time for you in October, but every time I wanted to ask you, I froze, I don’t know why, I have no excuse

For a moment, you think you accidentally sent the rough draft of your text in your sleep. You didn’t. This was just him, awake before dawn, finally giving you something sincere. Now you have to rethink your reply.

The typing notification pops up while you’re reading over his message again. Still awake at 6:45.

I remember you telling me you wake up at the same time every morning... Good morning

You feel like crying again. But not like yesterday.

“Good morning” is the best you can come up with this early. He’ll have to wait.

———

Seungmin falls asleep, eventually, but not comfortably.

He gets up from bed to clean himself up, change (he’s warm now, so he opts for less clothes), and hopefully he’ll still be a little bit tired by the time he hits the bed again.

At 4:45am, his body decides he’s had enough. Now he’s awake, eyes still closed, bed far too warm. He throws off the blankets and flips onto his back.

Immediately, and not surprisingly, Seungmin’s thoughts turn to you. You’re sleeping soundly, he hopes, unlike him. He imagines you in the bed he’s never seen; curled up, tucked in. Maybe if he was there with you, he could sleep.

Every time he gets back home, he tries to push himself again, and he fails. He did it in October, and then again in September, right before his birthday. He knows he can’t keep doing this to you.

He pulls out his phone and opens your message thread.

…I hope I get to see you again soon

Seungmin stops thinking and just types:

“I’m so sorry. I should have made time for you in October…”

He stops and reads it. October. He was busy with the album release, but if he looks back in his messages again, he can count the number of texts he sent on one hand. You sent just as many…well, one more than him. That last message he didn’t even reply to. You must have been fed up with him and his lack of communication. And you had every right to be.

“…but every time I wanted to ask you, I froze, I don’t know why, I have no excuse.”

This part is true. Seungmin is almost freezing again right now.

“I don’t know how to explain…”

Now he thinks.

“…how all of this is making me feel. Maybe I’m…”

Seungmin backspaces the last sentence before he even finishes it. And then he hits send.

At 6:45, he’s still wide awake. He remembers you telling him your alarm is always set for this time, so he sends one more message.

And you reply. He was right, you were awake. Just a good morning, though. He’s sure it’s far too early for you to deal with his wishy-washy bullshit.

———

When he doesn’t text again by lunch time, you decide he’s waited long enough. And you can’t waste time, really. He might not be in town for long.

“I want to see you, and I will see you. Today, tomorrow, it doesn’t matter. But I need it to be soon. Neither of us are allowed to be nervous anymore.”

It’s better, you decide, than whatever you wrote last night.

He’s silent as you drift through the rest of the school day (you assume he’s having trouble thinking of a reply to that), and right as the class is gathering their things and leaving, another teacher sneaks in and approaches you. Then you realize it’s not a teacher, but you recognize her. She’s a secretary you’ve spoken to a few times before.

She nods to you and smiles. “I know you’re on your way out, but there’s a visitor for you, a parent who insisted I bring them right to you. It seemed important.”

You have very specific times for parent/teacher visits, and this is not one of them. And there is nobody else who would visit you. You’re confused. “Okay, send them in…I guess.”

You look down at your phone—you doubt it, but maybe you missed a text message or a call. No, nothing.

“Hello.”

The way his voice floats over to you almost knocks you out, and when you turn to meet his eyes, your throat refuses to let you release the air in your lungs.

“Your last text was very insistent. I know this probably is not the best approach…but I haven’t been doing a very good job of anything lately.”

Still you just stare at him, lost for words. You look around your classroom, then down at yourself. This is not how you wanted to see him again, but do you have any room to complain?

He takes a few steps toward you, “was this a bad idea?”

You manage to shake your head and swallow. And then you realize your legs still work, with some effort. Two steps later, your arms wrap around his waist, your face disappears in his sweatshirt, and you squeeze.

His tiny, relieved laugh is music to your ears, and then his hands slide across your back until he’s fully embraced you.

You keep him there for a long time, and he doesn’t protest or try to pull you away. When he does speak again, it’s a question.

“How was your day?”

You slowly release him, but making eye contact is a bit of a challenge. “It’s better now.” So you fall apart when he does show up; no strong words, no looks of disbelief at his absence. You knew this would happen.

“Where can I take you? Home? Or…anywhere you want.”

“Home is good.”

“Okay, there’s a ride waiting for us.” He moves his hands up and over your shoulders, and he rests them on either side of your neck. “I understand if you’re angry with me, and if you stay that way.”

“I am. I don’t want to be.”

Seungmin leans closer, and he moves painfully slow, but eventually he makes it to your mouth. His kiss is light and short, but he keeps going back to peck at your lips, over and over, until you open up and hold him there.

Finally, clear memories of Chicago fill you up. His scent and his touch pull you right back, and you hope he remembers it like you do.

———

It feels like your first date. A quiet car ride, a slow ride up the elevator, an awkward, unsure walk down the hallway to your apartment door. Then walking into your messy living room.

“Are you hungry? I can order something for us,” he says as he’s carefully removing his shoes. “And we can talk while we wait.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll make some coffee.”

Seungmin doesn’t follow you to the kitchen, like he’s done a few times before. Instead, he sits on the couch, situating himself so he can still see you.

You try not to look at him as you work, but you fail, several times. He smiles every time your eyes meet, but it’s a sad smile. It’s not one you’re used to seeing.

“No small talk,” you tell him as you hand him his coffee. “I’ll lose my mind.”

“No small talk.” He nods.

“Where have you been?” You start, staring down at your mug. “Not physically, I know that already. I mean…in every other way.”

“Uhm—“ Seungmin thinks. His face twists a little, probably in confusion. “Where have I…”

“Mentally,” you can’t take your eyes off of him now. “Emotionally.”

“Oh, okay I understand.” He clears his throat, adjusts himself. “It’s been hard to keep my thoughts organized lately. It’s not just that I’ve been busy with work…I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I’m sorry.”

Seungmin shakes his head, “I could’ve fixed it, I’m sure. If I would’ve just talked about things with you a while ago, I probably would have slept easier.”

“I kept you up?”

“Yes. Well, thinking about you. I do think about you, all the time, even if I haven’t kept in touch. But I’ve been over complicating things, I think.”

“Talk to me now. Please.”

You think you can see his cheeks turning pink. His eyes are wide and shiny, but he’s unsure.

“I know, Seungmin…it is hard. It’s been hard for me, and I feel like it’s been a little more difficult for you. I kept everything to myself all this time, up until yesterday.”

He gives you another questioning look.

“Choonhee forced it out of me.”

He nods, sets his coffee down, and swings his legs up on the couch. Something about him making himself more comfortable puts you at ease. You remember him mentioning before that he felt relaxed being here, alone with you. "I don’t feel any pressure here." You hope he still feels that way.

“Tell me what you told her.”

“She did most of the talking.”

“Then what did Choonhee tell you?”

“That you’re just a guy, and I shouldn’t let you get to me like this.”

Seungmin actually nods at that—but he’s not looking you in the eyes now, so maybe he’s just…thinking about it. Or maybe he’s agreeing. You don’t know where this is going yet.

“I am just a guy, she’s right. I don’t want to be just a guy, though. Not to you.”

“Oh…”

“I thought I knew what was going on when we were together in Chicago, and I thought I knew what I wanted. I’ve been thinking all this time that if this couldn’t be a normal, traditional relationship, you would not be happy, not satisfied. And you’d tell me you weren’t interested in me anymore. I thought you would tell me you couldn’t do it.”

You almost interject; tell him that’s never what you expected of him. You wouldn’t never do that. Why didn’t you say that before? Instead, you used the hypothetical “if you weren’t who you are” question on him. You remain quiet, though, hoping he continues.

“…what I’ve been doing isn’t much better than what I’ve been afraid of. But you’re very smart, and I always knew that.”

You just smile at him, waiting for more.

“That’s why you were so worried when you found out who I was. You know this is much more complicated than that.”

“Yes, I know it’s complicated.”

He’s biting his lip. Tapping his foot. It’s almost touching you, and you want to stretch your leg out until it does, but right as you tell your brain to do it, his leg slides back. He sits up and leans forward, falls to his knees, and crawls across the couch.

Before you can squeak his name out, he’s straddling you, arms on either side of your waist. And then the full weight of his body is on you. Seungmin sets his head down gently against your chest and relaxes.

You freeze for a few seconds. You have fallen asleep on this couch with him before, but this feels like much more.

He doesn’t say anything, not even when you set your hand on his head—rake your fingers through his hair, wrap your other arm around his shoulders. He sighs, though.

When it feels like you’re drifting off to sleep, he finally speaks. It’s muffled against your shirt.

“You just want me, right?”

“What?”

“Even if nobody is allowed to know. And we can’t go out in public, and I have to pretend you don’t exist.”

“Seungmin, I know that we can’t have a normal relationship. I just want you…and to know that you want me.” You say the last part under your breath.

“I do.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I promise I’ll be better. And that I won’t be afraid to talk to you, and tell you too much.”

“You can tell me whatever you need to.”

“I don’t usually talk much…to anyone.”

It never occurred to you that he didn’t have someone to talk to when he was feeling down, or having a bad day. A bad week. He’s been bottling everything up, just like you have. Maybe for a very long time.

“You can talk to me about your bad days, Minnie, or when you can’t sleep. And about your good days. I would like to be that person.”

“Am I the reason you had a rough day yesterday? Have you had a lot of those?”

“Yeah, I have had a lot of bad days because I missed you.”

“You can tell me about your bad days, too. Even if they were bad because of me.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

Seungmin laughs, and it shakes your whole body. “Good.”

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The next morning is almost normal. Your alarm goes off at its regular time—6:45, and you’re tired, which is also normal. The room is chilly, and it’s so warm under the blankets that getting up is nearly impossible. An ordinary morning. The one thing that makes it different is that Seungmin is there when you open your eyes.

The alarm doesn’t even make him stir, but when you finally turn it off, he groans.

“I’m sorry, go back to sleep.”

“Are you going to work?” He asks, eyes closed, voice raspy with sleep.

“No, not today. I found someone to cover for me.”

He smiles and reaches his arm toward you, and he feels blindly around where he thinks you might be. “Why are you so far away?”

You move closer and grab his arm, “I’m right here. Go back to sleep.”

“I’ll try.”

…

Sleep eventually finds both of you again. When you wake back up a few hours later, he’s still there, breathing deeply, melting into your bed. You need to get up, but you wait a little longer. You really don’t want to wake him right now.

When he eventually wakes up on his own, he’ll feel better.

You close your eyes. And again, you fall asleep.

…

Something warm against your forehead wakes you up for a third time. Your eyes open and all you see is skin; Seungmin’s neck, his shoulder. The collar of his shirt is loose enough that you can see the start of his chest.

You pull him closer and push your face into him. He smells good. He smells like sleep and sweat and whatever leftover cologne is still stuck to him from yesterday.

Part of you still wants to keep your guard up. He’ll be gone soon, and then you’ll have to wait and see if his confidence and trust in you remains, and if he’ll really feel comfortable telling you the things he doesn’t tell anyone else.

“I can start,” you say, face still in his chest. You move up toward his neck and set your lips against his skin.

“Start what?”

“After we were together last, in Chicago, and we didn’t…use a condom. I did get a morning after pill, and I took it.”

He pulls you away so he can look at you.

“My period came really late after that, so I thought it didn’t work. And I was really scared. But I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t tell you because we hadn’t talked very much that week, and you didn’t need that on your mind anyway.”

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that alone.”

“Everything turned out okay.”

“You can talk to me any time you need to, even if I’ve been quiet.”

You nod, and you really want to believe him.

“Too soon for babies.” He whispers, just loud enough for you to hear him. He has a little smirk on his face, but he’s avoiding eye contact and staring at the little bit of space between you.

“You want them?”

“Hm?” Now he makes eye contact, and his ears are slowly turning red. “Uhm…yes, I always have. Do you?”

Having kids isn’t something you’ve thought about much (aside from the scare you had in July), because you haven’t met anyone you would want to have kids with. Well, until now, because looking at Seungmin and the sweet smile on his face is making you want them immediately. But you know that’s not possible for him.

“With the right person, yeah.”

“I’m sure someday I’ll be able to do that. Have the time to be there, for both of them. You and baby. I couldn’t be gone all the time and leave you alone.”

He stops for a second. You wonder if he’s even hearing himself speak.

“…Seungmin?”

“It was my turn to tell you something personal.” He brings his hands up to his face and rubs his cheeks, then his eyes. “Just in case I’m the right person.”

The conversation feels like too much, too soon. But you like it. He’s only been open with you like this once before: on your second date, when he admitted to being worried you’d like his friends more than him. You thought that was silly then, and now…you’re not sure you could like anyone more than Seungmin.

“…and if I’m your right person.”

Seungmin smiles and hides his face in the pillow.

———

As the day goes on, you wonder how long he’ll be here with you. Every time he looks at a message on his phone, you assume that will be his cue to get going—to start saying goodbye. But he’s still here, and he seems content.

It was his idea to stay, and he insisted on making breakfast.

“What do you normally do on your days off?” is what he asked as you sat and ate.

So it’s been a regular day off, aside from the fact that Seungmin is also here with you…eating, cleaning, sorting laundry, watching tv, and eventually, catching up with schoolwork.

He sits down next to you on the couch when you open your binder and pull out a stack of papers. He watches quietly as you shuffle though them, putting the pages in order before you start to look them over properly.

He picks the next one up before you get to it. “How old are your students again?”

“They are eight…a few are nine.”

“I don’t remember my English classes being this complicated when I was…older than them.”

“You should see their math homework.”

“Oh, I was very good at math!”

“Yeah?” You look at him, give him your full attention. “There’s so much I don’t know about you.”

“Not even what’s on the internet?” Seungmin leans back against the couch, and pulls you with him.

“I’ve read a few things. But I’m sure you’re a lot more complicated than your fun facts.”

“I hope so.” He grabs you around the waist, “what were you good at in school?”

“English…” you laugh. “And I did pretty good in my German class, and history.”

“Do you speak German, too?” He’s holding you tight, head resting on your shoulder.

“No, I’ve forgotten almost all of that.”

“Why did you come here, to Korea?

You turn yourself to look at him, disturbing his resting head. But he keeps his arms around you.

“So close to Samseong-Dong?”

“I felt like I needed to start over after I graduated college, and this seemed like the perfect way to do it. I actually almost went to Japan.”

“Why didn’t you? Where did you go to college?”

“Northwestern University. And I missed a deadline. Luckily, I already had applications submitted to a few different programs here and nearby.”

“And you chose here?”

Seungmin’s hands wander throughout the entire conversation, stopping when they reach just below where the hem of your shirt hits.

“They chose me.”

“That’s very lucky.” They slide underneath and up your back, “maybe we were meant to meet each other.”

“I’m not sure I believe in things like that.” You move yourself closer to him, until your face is inches from his.

“I don’t either, really. Fate, and soulmates. I’ve been called a…uhm, I don’t remember the English word. A negative person.”

“A pessimist?”

“Yes. Maybe sometimes I am, but…not always. I can be positive. I just like to be realistic.”

“A pragmatist.” You lean in and kiss the corner of his mouth.

“Mhm, both of those P words. I did get lucky, though.” He pushes forward, gently coaxing you to your back.

“Was it there before?” You ask. He’s hanging over you, studying your face. “Before Chicago, after I asked if you would date me?“

“Was what there? You mean, did I like you?”

“Yes, but…more than that. Or was it spending the night together?”

“It was before that. That’s why I wanted to spend the night with you.”

You nod, trying hard not to beam up at him. But his hands are on your sides, and his fingertips are moving so delicately over you, you can’t help but smile.

“When was it there for you?”

Your heart starts beating a little faster. You have no answer ready for him except the truth.

“When you gave me Pochacco.”

“On our first date? At the coffee shop?”

You throw your hands over your face and nod, “yeah, at the coffee shop.”

“I felt kind of silly giving him to you, I thought you would think it was silly, too.” He pulls your hands away so he can see your face again.

“It wasn’t.”

“So PuppyM wasn’t silly either?”

“No, I love him. And your denim jacket you left, that’s hanging on my bedpost. I love all of your gifts.”

“Oh, I forgot about that jacket!”Seungmin comes down and settles himself against you, face in your neck, hands wondering more.

“You can have it back, if you want.”

“No, you keep it. But I do need something of yours to keep with me.” His hands slide under your shirt and across your stomach. He tickles your side again, then stops when he reaches your hip.

You’re surprised at his restraint.

“I’m sure I have something for you.” You set your hand over his and slide it up his arm. Then back down.

His fingers twitch and push under your shorts. As ready as you were, and as much as you wanted him to make that move, your breath still catches in your throat.

He props himself up with his other arm and looks at you. His fingers touch lightly over your underwear, taking his time, getting himself where he needs to be.

But you’re not taking your time. And it’s Seungmin touching you, so your body is already on fire. You push your hips up and push his hand harder against you.

His fingers slide up and sneak beneath the fabric. He moves slowly, and he’s watching you carefully, as if you might protest.

But of course you don’t. You grip his arm and slide your hand from his bicep down to his wrist, moving with him as his fingers slip inside of you.

“Am I doing okay?” He leans closer and whispers. He doesn’t wait for an answer before pulling out and sliding back over your clit, making you choke on your answer.

You manage a shaky mhm and Seungmin giggles into your ear. His fingers stay put, making soft circles around you, keeping his touch as delicate as possible. Then he takes them off again, and he pushes back inside.

The reach of is fingers is enough to hit just the right spot, and when you jump from the pressure, he does it again and again until he gets a moan out of you.

You lift your hips into his touch and pull him down for a kiss. Your grip on his arm tightens and he eases up, but barely. His mouth is working its way across your neck now, leaving you free to moan.

“Do you do this a lot?” He says as he nibbles across your ear and cheek. When he gets to your lips, he hangs above you and holds your gaze. His thumb slides over your clit again, like he wanted to remind you of what he was talking about.

“Uhh…hmm?” You slide your hand up and grab a handful of his hair. “Yes.” You laugh and knead your fingertips into his scalp—it makes his eyes roll back. He’s in your neck again, savoring his little massage.

“Do you think about me when you do it?”

His question sends another wave of pleasure through you. His fingers slip inside again, pressing hard. His thumb is on your clit, wet and sliding easily and hitting everywhere you need it to.

There’s hot, heavy breathing in your ear, and a sweet whisper, “do you think about me, hm?”

“Every time,” your climax hits fast, and Seungmin knows he’s succeeded by the way you’re pulling at his hair.

He holds himself up just enough to watch you squirm beneath him. His touch softens even more as you start to relax, and when you stop and stare up at him, he comes down and kisses across your forehead and down the side of your face. He lets you catch your breath before moving to your lips.

“Really?” Seungmin blushes and tries to stifle his laugh in your neck.

You nod slowly, “that was…very good.”

“Thank you.”

“Too good, maybe.”

“I did some research.”

“You did not.” But when you think about it for a second, it does seem like something Seungmin would do. “Did you?”

“Just a little. In case I’d get to try it out on you someday.”

———

Seungmin looks carefully across your desk, touching the books stacked there, the loose sheets of composition paper, the notes and pencils. He sits in your chair and opens the drawer—inside are a few notebooks, all used and full. He shuffles things around a little, searching every inch.

Now he gets up and moves to your bookshelf. It’s more of a trinket shelf, though. Seungmin only runs his eyes over this, until he catches sight of a snow globe. He picks that up and shakes it. Inside is the Chicago skyline.

He stares at it for a long moment, then returns it to his spot. His attention turns to you, on the bed.

You just smile at him. He keeps looking around.

The next stop is your bedside table. You sit up when he sits down on the edge of the bed, run your hand down his back. As soon as he opens it, he whispers an ooh, and reaches inside.

“What did you find?” You laugh.

“Me,” he holds up three photocards with his face on them.

You take them from him and fall back on the bed, “you”, and look deeply at paper Seungmin.

“Hey, I’m right here…” he pushes your hand away and bends down to kiss you. “Real me.”

The next thing pulled from the drawer is a journal. He looks it over, but doesn’t open it.

“That’s you, too.”

Seungmin points to it, and his head tilts, “this is me?”

“Yeah, almost every page.”

His face goes from confusion to understanding, and then it falls a little.

“You should add one more page.”

“I will.”

The journal goes back in, and then his fingers close around something small. When he pulls it out, it catches the light and throws a reflection across the room.

“Oh, I haven’t worn this since last time.” You sit up and Seungmin hands you the bracelet. It’s only a tiny gold chain, but at the very end of it is a star charm.

“This.” He says, and he watches as you unclasp it, wrap it around his wrist, and close it again.

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

An hour after Seungmin left your house the last time, he sent you a text that just said “I’m home”. That was a first, and it felt like a good omen. But only time would tell. He never really had a good start with keeping in touch.

But he also said goodnight. And then he said good morning. And sometimes he called just to tell you instead of texting.

Actually, this morning, almost two months later, he called early in the morning, when you were still asleep. You caught his name on the lock screen before you picked up, but you still lacked the energy for anything more than a groggy morning Min.

Luckily, he can make up in enthusiasm what you lack some days.

“I’m sorry, you’re still asleep,” he whispers.

“No, it’s okay. I’m just being lazy. What are you up to this morning?” You also caught sight of the time before answering: 10am, way too late for you to sleep in.

“Catching a flight home, from Thailand. Waiting around.” Now you can hear the sleep still lingering in his voice.

“Oh right. I forgot you were there…I did see some photos. You looked very handsome in your safety glasses.”

“Thank you,” he laughs. “I was calling to…uhm, say good morning, and also to see if you would be home tonight.”

“Minnie, I’m always home.”

“That’s true, but it would still be rude to just show up unannounced.”

“I give you permission to show up unannounced.”

“Can I have a key, too? Oh, that reminds me…uuh, well, actually I’ll just talk to you about it later.”

“Okay, don’t forget. And yes you can have a key.”

———

This is the first time you’re not nervous about Seungmin coming over. Well, not as nervous as you typically would be. You’re still a little on edge—a little worried about how you look and about how your food is going to taste.

He didn’t mention anything about coming over hungry, but you’re taking the initiative anyway. If anything, he’ll have something to take home with him.

A soft knock at the door. You know his soft, steady knock, and you never have any other visitors, so it’s him. But for some reason you stand there stupidly, not moving, not saying anything, because you know it’s really him on the other side of your door.

Finally, after a few seconds, you take a breath. “It’s open.”

The door swings open.

“Hi,” Seungmin closes it quietly, takes off his shoes and looks at you from across the room. “It smells very good in here.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d eaten so…”

“No, nothing since lunch.” He takes a few long strides toward you. Big blue sweatshirt, matching sweatpants, a big smile. “So I’m very hungry,” he embraces you and squeezes you tight against his chest. “How have you been?” He relaxes, but he doesn’t let you free.

“I’ve been okay...I’ve been good.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t visit around Christmas—oh!” He bends down and kisses you.

He kisses for a long time—long enough that you think you might end up in bed before you even eat dinner. But he slows down, and then releases you.

“Happy new year! A little late.” He comes down again for one more kiss, and then makes his way to the kitchen. “What did you make? Something American? It smells like something American.”

“Yes. It’s very American.”

“Should we eat first, or talk?”

“I’m sure we can manage both.”

———

The two of you stare at each other from across your tiny kitchen table. Seungmin sips his tea. You just watch and wait, because this is his conversation.

“Do you want me to start? Something about you having a key to my apartment?”

“Ah, yeah. Yes, I should have a key, but I was thinking of a different apartment.”

“Oh, like yours? No, you don’t have an apartment. Or do you?” You lean a little closer, “secret apartment?”

“No, no secret apartment,” he laughs. “But I thought it would be nice if you lived closer. Closer to the city, and closer to me.”

“That would be nice, but I’m not sure something closer is in my budget.”

“I know,” Seungmin smiles—there’s always something so clever and knowing about his smile. “I figured you might say that. I could help.”

“You want to help me with rent? Expensive rent. That’s kind of serious.”

“I do! It is serious. I am serious.”

“You are?” You sit back in your chair and study his face. He’s still smiling and nodding at you.

“Yes, I’ve been thinking about it for…almost two months. And I found somewhere I think would fit very well.”

“Closer to you?”

“Much closer. I could walk to you.”

You’re thinking, but you’re not really thinking. The obvious answer to this is yes, even though it’s hard to just come out and say it. The idea of someone else helping with rent, or helping with anything, is foreign to you. “I would like to be closer to you.”

Seungmin looks at his phone, pulls something up on it, and then slides it to you across the table. “How is something like this?”

You trust Seungmin’s taste and judgement, but you still want to look it over thoroughly. Distance, yes, but also the size, the layout. And you do not have enough windows in this apartment. You’d like more windows. If he’s as serious as he looks, it might as well be worth whatever money you’re both going to put into it.

“How about this one?” You pull up a different listing.

He looks it over, “still very close. Oh, two bedrooms. Maybe the extra space would be nice.”

“It is a little more, sorry (Seungmin shakes his head when you say that), but it has a bathtub instead of just a walk-in shower. And it’s own laundry.”

He laughs, “I could do my laundry faster if I bring it with me. And the kitchen is nicer.”

“I miss having a bathtub.” You hand him his phone back. “But are you sure this isn’t too much? I know you said you were serious—“

“I am…I want you to know that I’m very serious. I think this is a good way to show you. And it’s also very practical.”

“You seemed so unsure before. I just want you to be…good. I want both of us to be good.”

“I’m very good.”

“This is a little crazy, isn’t it? All of this.”

“Yes, it is. I’ll call about it tomorrow.”

“No, I can. Let me do that, at least.”

———

“Minnie?”

Mmhm?

You sat on the couch after dinner, and it didn’t take much time before he had you on your back. He lifts your shirt as far as this position will allow, letting his fingers dance over you—making you squirm a little from how soft his touch is.

Forming the words you want to say is much harder than you thought. They’re dancing around in your head; you’re moving them back and forth, but every way it comes together feels like too much or not enough. Maybe right now just isn’t he time.

“What’s wrong?”

You pull your shorts down, open your legs for him, then shake your head. “Nothing.”

Seungmin reaches down and feels you, slips his fingers inside, then slowly pulls them back out. He smiles against your mouth and pushes in again, just to feel how wet you are. “Are we okay here…are you comfortable?” He asks sweetly. His fingers are still inside, moving delicately.

You nod, but suddenly you remember that you are not good, and you’re not ready. “Shit, no we’re not good. We need a condom this time.”

“Oh right, we should be safe. Tell me where they are,” he adjusts his sweatpants and very carefully lifts himself off of you.”

“In my black bag, under my bed.”

You listen as he slides it out and digs around. The contents of that bag are a mystery, but the condoms you bought back in Chicago, both boxes, have to be in there still. You’re not that bad at unpacking, but if it’s something you don’t use, you’re definitely going to forget I’m about it under there forever.

When he comes back in, he has one in each hand.

“I’m….not sure which one is for me.” His voice seems a little dejected. He’s looking down at them as he approaches you.

“Oh Minnie, they were both for you. I bought these a while ago, when I didn’t know which would fit you better.”

“Oh,” he finally makes eyes contact again. His face softens a little. “Sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“It’s okay, come here.” You spread your legs again and wait for him, “I’ll put it on for you.”

He crawls back onto the couch, settles between your legs, and opens both hands, palms up, in front of you.

You take the right one and rip it open. Seungmin looks like his mind is suddenly full. His eyes are big and soft.

“Min, what’s on your mind?”

His hands are already on his sweatpants, pulling them down his hips.

“You are.”

You touch him, slide your fingertips down, and then back up. The condom goes on easily. “Does it feel okay?”

He nods and adjusts, makes himself comfortable, and lifts your legs until he has more room. He pushes in a halfway, then leans over until you’re almost nose to nose.

“Minnie?”

“Hmm?” He sets his forehead against yours.

“There’s only you.”

“Just me?” He pushes his nose into yours, “only me?” Pecks at your lips.

“Just us.”

“Only us.” Seungmin pushes the rest of the way in, waits a moment, then begins to fuck you slowly and deeply, “you’re all mine.” He whispers in your ear as he drags his lips over it.

It takes you a second to pull yourself together. Each thrust sends you upward and knocks the breath out of you, but you manage a nod.

“Tell me,” he quickens his pace. The couch shakes the end table, and you can hear the clatter of things falling to the floor. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

It comes out shaky, and it’s not good enough for you. But Seungmin is still smiling. You try again

“I’m yours,” you grab the back of his neck and hold him still, “I only love you.” Your hand grabs hair and pulls—lips close on his before he has a chance to speak.

But he sighs into the kiss. He slows down, and it feels like he’s melting into you more and more with each thrust. What little skin is exposed between the two of you slides together, damp with sweat, and Seungmin kisses every part of you he can get to in the position he’s in.

He tries to get rid of your shirt, but he can’t stop, and he has to stop to make any progress—so you clumsily lift it, and your bra, until you’re free.

His hand slides up your ribs and his fingers graze over you, but for now he just watches how he’s making your body move under him. He seems hypnotized, but eventually he blinks, and then his eyes are fixed on yours again.

The room is quiet—no ambient noise from the tv, no music, nothing. The only sounds are the heavy breaths and soft moans you’re sharing. The condom is slowing him down, keeping him here much longer, and everything feels good in this position; good enough that you’d be satisfied staying like this as long he needs it.

He made you come last time, and now you want to do the same for him.

You lift him off of you until you can see him better.

He looks you in the eyes again, satisfied and smiling. “You feel so good,” he’s back down again, mouth on your chest, kissing down until he can close his lips around your nipple. He licks and works his way back up, stopping at your throat and staying there, his warm breath hitting you. “You love me?”

Your heart jumps. It was already racing, but now you feel it everywhere. In your throat, your chest, your head. You don’t think you’ve ever told anyone that before; not so soon. It’s been a year, but tonight is only the sixth time you’ve seen him and touched him. Everything else has been texts, phone calls, video calls.

It doesn’t matter. You said it because it felt right, and it still feels right.

“Yes.”

Seungmin slows his pace. His exhales turns into a string of soft, dulcet moans. He lifts himself upright and holds your hips as he rolls into you. He comes quietly. You wouldn’t have even realized if you weren’t looking right him.

The satisfied look on his face makes your stomach swirl. You watch Seungmin smile before your eyes close, and you can hear him whisper something to you while you’re coming down from your own high.

He pulls out and carefully brings your legs together.

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t say anything, love.” He sits you up next to him and pulls your t-shirt over your head, “I was just…” he pulls you close, “nothing, it’s not important right now.”

“Will you stay here tonight?”

“Yes, I’ll stay.”

———

It’s been a long six weeks. You’re a little stressed out, but you’ve been holding yourself together very well, you think.

This apartment has been your only home for more than three years, so packing your things up and preparing to leave has been a little bit emotional. Almost everything is out of here and all that’s left are a few things you’re taking along on the last car ride.

Before this, everything was moving in slow motion and it was killing you. Now, it won’t slow down. You’re happy, and you’re grateful for everything that Seungmin has done for you…and it’s still sometimes hard to believe he’s doing it all just for you. But it’s so much all at once.

He told you he would stay tonight—your first night there. You haven’t received a text telling you otherwise, so you’re hoping he will be there when you arrive. You do have to remember that you’ll be there alone most of the time, though.

Some things will remain the same.

———

The elevator ride up is long, and you think back to you and Seungmin—your first date, bringing him home with you to your 5th floor apartment, thirty minutes out of the way, just to have him to yourself.

That was probably a good indication that he liked you. You just didn't realize it at the time.

You finally stop at the 17th floor.

The original apartment you looked at was unavailable when you called the next morning, so Seungmin insisted on taking everything into his own hands while you were at work. He knew what you were looking for, but he went overboard.

This apartment has the windows, the bathtub, and laundry room, but it also has double the space—and three bedrooms. When you asked what you were supposed to do with all of the extra room, Seungmin shrugged and said we’ll figure something out.

You don’t even own enough to fill up half of it. Everything that required any sort of muscle; the bed, the living room furniture, it all stayed behind. Most of the things in this apartment are new, or they will be new.

Before you have a chance to explore any further than the kitchen, you hear a very faint, soft knock on the door. You know it’s him and you run to open it, but he punches in a code on the doorknob, turns it, and peeks in before you get there.

“I tried to beat you here.” He smiles.

“You almost did.“

He closes the space between you and pulls you into a hug. “How was your day? Did the movers get everything here?”

“It was alright, and…I think so, but I haven’t gotten any further than this.”

“Just alright? I know it’s been a lot lately.”

“I’m better now that I’m here, and you’re here.” You take his face in your hands and squeeze his cheeks, “let me see, smile.”

Seungmin smiles widely and dramatically, and then bends down to kiss you. “How do I look?”

You pull him back for another one, “still handsome.”

He picks up the bags he walked in with and sets them on the kitchen chair. “I brought us dinner, and a few things to make you feel more at home.” Seungmin is pulling the food out of the bag, piece by piece. “So you didn’t see the bedroom yet?”

“Not yet, why?”

He shakes his head and smiles, “we’ll see it later.”

“What did you bring me?”

“Oh, let’s see!” He starts digging in the other bag.

You watch as he carefully places an assortment of things along side the food. There’s a candle, two candles, a small picture frame, but you can’t see the photo from where you’re standing. A stuffed dog. Another stuffed dog. One of them is Pochacco, the other is a mystery, but he does look familiar.

“That’s all for now but I do have more stuff to bring.”

“Well, we have plenty of space to fill.”

He beams at you, grabs one of the stuffed dogs, and pulls you against him. “This wasn’t mine, but I have one just like it.”

“I like him, he looks like you.”

Seungmin laughs and looks at Daengmo, “yes, he kind of does.”

———

When the sun goes down, and you’re both full and relaxing, you begin to feel even more nostalgic for the conversations you had and the memories you made with him at your old place, on your old couch. You have to work on new memories now.

He’s facing you on the new couch, eyes closed, slow, steady breaths. The flicker of the tv is hitting his face, making his cheek and the soft brown of his hair glow.

Very slowly, you reach your foot out and touch his.

Seungmin’s eyes open, and he gives you a sleepy smile, “how was dinner?”

“Good.” You sit up and move closer to him, “we should go to bed while you’re still sleepy.”

He groans and shrugs his shoulders.

“We gotta go see the bedroom, remember?” You grab his hand and pull a little, and he immediately gives in.

The bedroom is warm and cozy, like it’s already been lived in. You know Seungmin came in at some point and made it this way; the curtains are pulled, the soft amber lights are clicked on, and one of the candles he brought is lit on the bedside table. Both of the stuffed dogs he brought, and your PuppyM, are already laying on top of the pillows.

The bed is made, but not too made. The blankets are loose and fluffed up, ready to crawl into.

“How does it look?” He sounds a little more awake now.

“It looks perfect, come on.”

He shakes his head, “If we don’t brush our teeth now, we will never get back up to do it.” He smiles and kisses you softly.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

———

The lights are off, the candle is out. Seungmin is facing you in bed.

“Are you awake? Did you lose your sleepy?”

“A little.”

He scoots closer until his arm can drape over you. The bedroom is bigger, and the bed is bigger, too. You’re sharing one side just to be close to each other.

“It will come back soon.”

You set your forehead against his chest and feel it move steadily with each breath. It's quiet for a long time, and now sleep is really escaping you. You should be able to relax like this; you’ve shared a bed with him a few times before, and you haven’t slept as well since. And you’re tired—too tired. Maybe too exhausted for sleep.

You wonder if he’s awake, or if he’s quiet because he thinks you’ve finally drifted off.

You run your hand gently over his arm, waiting for a reaction. At first, he doesn’t make a move or a sound, but when you slide your hand back up, he moves his leg against yours.

“Can’t sleep?” He whispers

“Did I wake you?”

“You didn’t.”

“Then no, I can’t sleep.” You prop yourself up on one arm and look down at him. It’s dark, but you can just make out the details of his face.

He flips onto his back and pulls the covers away. “Are you uncomfortable?” Seungmin asks and places his hand on your cheek. He’s warm, his eyes are warm. His mouth parts slowly and turns into a smile. It’s a tired smile. “New bed.”

“New everything.”

“Except for me.”

Your hand closes around his, then you turn your head to place a kiss on the inside of his wrist. “Thank you for being here. I know you’re on a tight schedule.”

Seungmin pulls you down on top of him. His face is in your neck, kissing playfully and lazily, but the way his hands are exploring you is anything but lazy.

“You’re cold,” he stops, wraps his arms around your waist, and holds you there. “You need to be warmed up.”

You get your hands underneath his shirt, “you’re warm enough for both of us.”

“I can share.”

“Can I ask you something stupid?”

“Yes, I would love that,” he laughs softly and disappears in your neck again.

The stupid question bounces around in your head. His warm lips on you are starting to make your head fuzzy, and you wonder if you should just forget it. But now he’ll get it out of you somehow.

“Will you sing for me?”

He pulls back to look at you. Seungmin’s face lights up. It could light up the entire room. “You want me to sing for you?” If he was sleepy at all before, he’s not now. You’ve managed to wake him the rest of the way with a simple, stupid, request. But it wasn’t stupid at all.

“I always have, it just never seemed like a good time.”

“Right now? Should I sing now? Maybe it’s too quiet, and the walls might not be very thick.”

“In the morning?”

He nods, “yes, I’ll sing for you in the morning. What should I sing?”

“Surprise me.”

“We talked about singing together before, remember?”

“I remember,” you wrap around him and pull the covers back up in an attempt to get him sleepy again. “But I’d rather just hear you.”

☾⋆⁺₊⋆

#kim seungmin #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x you #kim seungmin x y/n #seungmin x reader #seungmin x y/n #seungmin x you #skz seungmin #seungmin smut #seungmin fluff #kim seungmin fluff #kim seungmin smut #skz fluff #skz fanfic #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic

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wemustgatekeepwooyoung · 1 month

Text

Don’t be a stranger, stranger.

synopsis: after being all closed up in the mole hole you call home for weeks, you decided, even though you declined your best friends’ (Choi San, Song Mingi) invitation some hours ago, to go out all by yourself for a drink. You in fact did not stay alone that night, as Jung Wooyoung, a complete stranger caught you in his eye. Two weeks after you still thought about the man that kissed you so nastily in the bar’s bathroom stalls and ,unluckily for you ,you did not have his number to repurchase anything. Unfortunately though, people are people and people know people so nobody’s a complete stranger in the end.

genre: romance (strangers to lovers?), fluff, smut, a bit of angst*

pairing: Jung Wooyoung (non idol) x Fem Reader

word count: 7,7k

content/warnings: *mentions of reader going through a tough period, pet names (dove,darling,beautiful,baby,lovebug...), alcohol consumption, switch!wooyoung/reader, oral sex (face riding-f receiving), bondage, sort of love confession?

author’s note: HELLO THERE! God this took me longer than I first expected, sorry about that! I had covid while writing most of it and I had to take a better look at it once I felt better :P I still am not sure if I like it, my friend made me post it as I kept ranting about it lol. Sorry again if there are any grammar mistakes as eng is not my first language! ALSO, as I posted some days ago already, I have many fic ideas that I haven't even started preparing yet. Truth is, I'm trying to get myself in uni, so it's exam season for me and I don't have the time nor the mental capacity to process anything. In addition, I won't be that active! Requests are still open and will probably stay open as it's a new challenge for me. Hope you enjoy this one, bye bye <3

“Oh come on Y/N! Stop fooling yourself by thinking that you’re having fun doing nothing all day and end up rotting in bed. You’re too pretty and young for that anyway. Come out with us instead! We’re best friends us three and we haven’t hang out for two full weeks for fuck’s sake ”

“Thanks Mingi but I’d rather rot in my own bed than be around anyone right now. Or at least around anyone I know and anyone that knows me. I get your frustration and I’m sorry. I promise I’ll make up for it to both you and San.”

“Okay, I won’t push you. I just hope this method you’re using is actually useful to you and that you don’t end up choking on your own misery again”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me. Have fun and drive carefully okay?”

“Okay. See you around, hopefully” Mingi commented and you couldn’t help it but laugh at his temper.

“Okay, bye then”

“Bye!” he said in a charming voice and you hung up

You’ve been going through it all lately, absorbing pressure from everything. Work’s been shitty and you keep grieving for your unaccomplished goals in life. Your parents still making a fuss about you not being a responsible adult, which you of course are, at the age of twenty two! If you weren’t you wouldn’t have been able to survive alone in this reality.

It is what it is and that’s been your motto for the past… Wait, how long has it been since you last went out? You don’t have a single clue. Did Mingi say two full weeks? Shit. You really do need to charge your social battery.

But what will it be? Charging your social battery or relaxing in the comforts your beloved bed provides you with? ‘Why’s life so hard?’, you thought and then you felt stupid that you felt that way over a stupid dilemma.

You’ve always been like that though. Always the dramatic one. Even in your friendship with Song Mingi and Choi San all these years. You’re like their little mature baby, as they’re both two years older than you. But you being mature generally doesn’t mean that you won’t make your own life feel like a kdrama series and ,like Mingi said, choke on your own misery to feel something.

You really do need to feel something though. Something other than tiredness from overworking yourself, other than empathy for the wrong people and to top it off, something definitely other than this big bulge in your heart caused by loneliness.

Mingi was right. You do need to go out and clear your head a bit. Maybe you should give him a call, they’re probably still out at your usual spot.

It’s been two hours since you thought about going out and you’re still clenching on the possibility of you doing it, instead of actually doing it. Why’s it so hard for you anyway?! You used to be every party’s favourite party animal, along with the other two of course. But why’s it so hard now? Is it because it’s late or because you’re just too bored to even get up?

And then, right when you thought that you’d never get up, you started missing it’s taste on your tongue. All you need right now is a very serious and dirty Martini. It’s just what will do the job perfectly and hopefully help you get yourself off.

So, now looking like a 90s elegant goddess with your plump lips, your slightly curly hair and your silky black dress, you called a cab and decided to be a bit extra with everything.

The bar you wanted to sit at is a bit too wild today but you won’t let that ruin your night as you already made too many compromises with yourself to get here. So, what you did was wander around in Seoul's streets for some time, searching for a new promising spot. The music was what led you to this specific one that you decided to enter right away.

After doing so, everyone started checking you out immediately. That didn’t annoy you one bit ,as it would normally, even though you absolutely hate those horndogs living around you. That’s probably because all your remaining mind space is covered with images of your order ready to be swallowed right in front of you.

Isn’t your lust for alcohol kind of sexual? Is our little dove horny other than lonely, or is it that your horniness was beclouded by the banner of ‘loneliness’ from the start? Damn, you really want to get dicked down, don’t you?

“Move! Let the lady sit!” a drunk man shouted and emptied a barstool for you to sit on, even though the one beside it was already unoccupied.

You thanked him with a smile and turned over to the barman that was already checking you out by the moment your eyes met his.

“What can I get you sunshine?”

“I’m not sure about the sunshine part, but I’d really like a Martini.”

“What kind?” he tried to specify as there are indeed many ways to enjoy a Martini.

“Well, there’s only one option to meet up with such hour’s demands, right?”

“Dirty it is then” he understood your statement and began the process of preparing it for you.

During that one minute that made up your order’s preparation time, you took your chance and started browsing the place. You never thought you’d ever visit a place like this in Seoul. It’s classy and really close to your taste in hang-out spots. It’s a nice jazz bar, filled with people your age and older dancing around, laughing, cheering and making toasts on their future which is something you and your two best friends always do.

You’ve missed them but you know they totally understand that where you stand now is only temporary. They both really respect and trust you and that’s two things that you can feel for certain when you’re with them.

But now is the time to relax and enjoy your time alone without having to rot in bed, exactly like Mingi said on the phone earlier. It’s your time to shine like the brightest color in this bar, just you and the company of your tasty dirty little friend.

“Here you go beautiful. Your beloved Martini’s on the guy over- Where’d he-“ the barman claimed and started looking for the man that spent money on your drink

Not even five seconds later, the barstool next to you got occupied by this stunning man and his sexy eyebrow piercing. He fixed his leather jacket and smiled at the barman before turning to look at you.

“Your drink and all the possible following are on me. Hope I didn’t scare ya”

“You didn't scare me at all. Thanks for the offer, I’m having this one today and no other.”

“Whatever pleases you” he said and took a delicate sip from his glass, what looks like to contain plain whiskey. Hot. “I liked the choice you made with it” he said and gave your glass a look-over.

“Really? I think it’s pretty ordinary”

“You can never go wrong with ordinary, right?”

“That’s right!...”

“You’re making it seem rare though cause I haven’t seen the combination of a good dirty martini and a pretty girl like you here before”

He does have a way with words, you can give him that. And he’s gorgeous too. His features are elegant and precise, just how you like it. He might even be the prettiest guy you’ve ever talked to, objectively speaking.

Maybe that's because of the bar’s lighting choice that seems to expose the uniqueness of his nose and the brightness of the sparkle in his cute button eyes. Or maybe it’s his charming smile that makes everything else feel blurry in this tight space you’re sitting and enjoying your night out.

“Well, you’re right. I haven’t been here before and dare I say I’ll surely come again.”

“How come? Your aura fits this place perfectly”

“My what? Can’t hear you well sorry!” you said and made him chuckle softly

Your heart almost skipped a beat by how close to you he got so that he made sure you heard him the second time.

“Your aura darling.”

“Oh! What about it?”

“It’s catchy” he said and made a cute little shake with his hands

“Catchy?” you wondered almost bursting in laughter after repeating his exact movement

“Yeah, you caught my eye from all the way back there and I can't even see that well without my glasses. You're glowing” he bluntly confessed and increased the tension in your eye contact.

''Do you say this to every girl you meet?''

''Almost, yeah. But the aura thing is the new adaptation I made just now on my usual script'' he affirmed your point and readjusted his sunglasses to hold back his front hair strands better

''Tell me about the next victim's reaction to it when you have it proposed for the first time, yeah?''

''So, you want to meet again?'' he asked and made you laugh while you were swallowing the slightly bitter sip you took from your drink

''I can’t say that that confidently but it depends.”

''On what?'' he asked and leaned closer to you, his elbow flat on the counter and his hand balancing the weight of his head.

''On how quickly you get me on my last nerve''

''And what if I manage not to?''

''Then we'll both enjoy our time together. Perhaps.''

''Sounds good to me! So, tell me more about you.''

''What is it that you want to know, Mr.-''

''It's Wooyoung''

''Fine.'' you said with a sigh, '' What is it that you want to know Mr. Wooyoung?''

''Just Wooyoung is fine. You didn't tell me your name though''

''I'll think about telling you when I assure your business with me, is that okay?''

''Sure thing, whatever has you feeling more comfortable''

''Right... So what'd you wanna know? If you don't answer this time either, I'm going to assume it was about getting my name on your list''

''That was one part of it but there is also another. Are you waiting for somebody?''

''No, luckily for you and unluckily for me that just wanted to enjoy my Martini alone, I'm not waiting and don't need to wait for anybody''

''Okay, I shall leave you alone then-'' he said confidently and stood up, ready to actually respect your solo night out, an action which made you see your interest in him clearer.

''Shouldn't you test my patience first since you took your chance already? Unless you want to give up on me that easily'' you suggested like you were pitying him but instead you were pitying your desperately horny self.

He smiled and sat back down before removing his jacket, all left with a plain black t-shirt covering his muscular torso. Once he carefully hang it on the side rail of his chair, you noticed the exposed and veiny skin on his arms. Shit, who is this man and how is he so good looking? Are you seriously thirsting over a stranger? Since when could you not resist your touch deprivation nor your imagination?

You closed your eyes and shook your head negatively, trying to control your hormones and hopefully shake them off too. You must not fuck with someone that you met just this night, you know that's not you! But you can't help but want to, I mean, who would judge you? Mingi and San would probably agree with you on the matter of Wooyoung being the most fuckable man you've ever held a conversation with. But holding just a convo with him isn't enough for you right now. You want him to hold you against the wall and ruin you like the little slut you are. You don't want to know about him nor him to know anything about you. Fuck actual words, you just want to speak in body language. What you also don't want on the other hand, is him getting your comfirmation to 'hit it' right away. You want to test him.

''Am I getting to you?''

''I wouldn't say that. I'm a hard person to please'' you said and you did not lie. You are a very hard person to please. Mingi and San have arranged several dates for you these past two weeks just to get you off your mind and finally out of your house. Numerous guys are head over heels for you but you always refuse the deal or never show up. And now? What the heck is happening to you now? Why's this random guy, Wooyoung, and his pretty little mole under his left eye so irresistible?

''Then guide me through it''

Oh he definetly knows what he's doing and you're letting him. Girl get your shit together and go play bunnies already. Besides from letting him, you're also making it clear that you're enjoying his boldness, even if that boldness has a taste of indirection in it, making the whole situation ironic. You're both dirty talking at this point but choose to go sideways. Maybe you like the tease and the slowburn, what can one say!?

''Why? Aren't you confident in your own skills?''

''You think I have skills?''

''I never said that but I don't doubt it either. I'm a physical learner''

''I thought so''

''So glad we're both making assumptions about each other in these fifteen minutes of talking.'' you said and took another sip of your martini

''Mhm, glad we're mutually glad about the thing you said you're glad about. Moreover, I have an interesting ,I'd say, proposal to make.''

''What could that be?'' you asked while staring at the ceilling, mocking Wooyoung that way. The familiar sound of his laughter followed your mockery and made you look at him, somewhat invested.

''It involves us two, voicing our assumptions out loud''

''Where?'' you clearly misunderstood what he had just said, lost in your own dirty thoughts.

A devilish smile was formed on his face, along with an eyebrow raise and a slight head tilt.

''Wow sugar, I thought you being hard to please would make this take longer but if you insist-''

''I didn't insist pfff- what was it again? Your name?''

''Wooyoung''

''Oh right that's the one! You think you have a way of getting things go your way but you're not the only brat in this bar, there's another one sitting right in front of you''

''Hm, someone will have to back down sooner or later though, won't he?''

''You're right on the male pronoun. I'm not familiar with backing down''

''What about bending down? Are you familiar with that?''

''Let's not go down that path right away. You haven't even finished your whiskey yet'' you teased and in just a blink of an eye, the remaining whiskey in his glass was consumed. He drank it all at once with a big swallow making his eyes tear a bit. Cute, you thought. He's as desperate for some pussy as you are for him to fuck you. That makes the situation more ideal and fair than it was before.

''Okay. What's the first assumption you made about me?'' he asked with a grin on his face, still wanting to give you the message that he's the one in charge of the wheel

''Hm, let's see. If I consider the fact that you're confident, a natural entertainer and that you value freedom and can’t stand being tied down, I'd assume and I think I'm rather correct, that you're a Sagittarius'' you said and ate the olive that had been soaking in your drink for so long without breaking eye contact

He got shy and scrached his nape in shock.

''You're right about all of it. Almost all of it”

''Oh my! Are you a Taurus?''

''No, you made no mistake in the zodiac part.''

''Then where was I in error?''

''Your error was found in the false fact considering me not enjoying being tied down''

''Oh c'mon! Do you really have to make everything sexual?''

''What can I say sweetheart, it's in my nature! And I think that's another thing we share''

''Maybe we do, I guess we won't be finding out soon as it's your turn to bring your first assumption about me to the table''

''I knew you'd like this game! Kinky. Mine was not as clever as yours was, I guess it was filled with more realism than cleverness. You see, what I assumed of you when I first saw your pretty figure from all the way back there, was that you surely had a partner. I still can't get my head wrapped around the fact that you're single''

''Single by choice!'' you exclaimed, surprising yourself

''I don't want to push you into saying something really personal. I'm sure you have your reasons to have acted this way. I'm also sure that there's also a reason behind you not wanting to get to know me personally, cause you haven't asked me a single question about myself yet. Again, there's no pressure, I'm really enjoying your company and our time together, we don't need to have it continue if you don't want to''

Damn. Did this man really figure your emotions out after knowing you for so little and with no content of you and your life at all? And that's when you realised... This is all you've been searching for since the night started! Someone to make the effort to understand you and actually do. What a miracle he is, truly. Is he majoring in psychology maybe? Are you suddently into getting to know more about him and his personal life or is one tripping?

''Another assumption I had about you was that you are a player and that you enjoy wilding out with random girls at bars. I don't think that's true anymore. What are you actually like Woo?'' you finally decided to be open about your interest in him and ask him a direct and personal question. You acting bratty-like isn't fit for all circumstances anyway.

His face lit up and he let out a big sigh that turned out forming into a loud chuckle.

''I'm honored by your question, really. I'm a simple guy, I enjoy making people laugh and I also love dancing''

''Do you make people laugh with your dance moves?'' you joked and he teased you by touching your nose gently

''You'd be surprised by my moves. Everyone loves Jung Wooyoung, the sexy performer.''

''I'll have to assess that myself, can't trust other people's opinions''

''Agreed, I'd also like to know about your opinion on 'em''

''Then what are you waiting for? Show me”

''Right now? I too had a question to ask y’know!''

''Save it for later then'' you said, implying that you're down for a 'get together' after today's night is over.

He smirked in understandment, got up, looked at you like he was about to devour you any moment and grabbed your hand. You laughed as he made you run your way to the bathroom stalls, making it easy for you to comprehend how badly he wanted you.

Once you reached the bathroom's doorstep and crossed it's border, he placed his hands directly on your hips and pushed a door open before attacking your lips.

Oh my! He's nasty! He surely know his ways around a woman and you're not God's strongest soldier. Of course you're mad he's stolen the wheel right from your claim, but his kisses have you so weak that you might as well let him keep it. You want him to keep it.

Another thing about him that you're now experiencing for the first time, is that him being bold is also shown in his sexual interactions. He's not shy to envelop the whole room with his filthy sounds and you absolutely love the melody they produce in conjunction with yours.

His embrace on your hips started to tighten before he reached his left hand behind and to lock the door. You broke the kiss to catch your breaths and both smiled while having your foreheads connected.

''May I?'' he asked while holding onto both your dress' shoulder straps. You nodded in agreement and he pushed them down right away, exposing your bare tits and having your dress fall on the ground, leaving you just with your pretty panties.

''Love the no bra look'' he joked and started to squeeze them, bringing your own beautiful moans on stage for him to welcome

''Slow down they'll hear us''

''Is there anyone you know out there?''

''No''

''Anyone you care about perhaps?''

''No''

''Then let's give them the concert of their lives baby, what do you say?'' he said and pinched your nipple, causing your volume to rise a couple of scales.

He pushed you further into the stall so that you were all helplessly stuck in it's corner, pressing onto you even more while sucking hard on your already aroused nipples. He got all the assurance he wanted by the way you told him how good it was in between your vocal escapisms. He then reached for your lower pleasure-seeking parts, therefore you felt his fingers trace your wet cunt above your soaked panties.

''I knew I got you good'' he said making you roll your eyes in disbelief of his still increasing confidence.

The worst part is that he has every right being confident, even on such a level. Nobody's ever made you that sexually frustrated before. It might just be that you possibly are under the Martini's spell ,but c’mon now, lying to yourself won’t work again.

You’re under Wooyoung's spell and you know it without minding at all, nor wanting him to stop. You're actually glad it's him and not some dude San and Mingi tried to hook you up with. And why is that? Because even though you trust them, you know that there's no other better judge of people than you. You were hesitant at first but now here you are not wanting to hesitate no more and wanting him to totally unravel you.

He rubbed steady circles on your clit, making it hard for you to hold still on your own. You wrapped one arm around his nape, pulling on his hair a bit, while the other slipped under his black t-shirt wanting to finally feel his muscles.

You both moaned, you on the feeling of his soft skin and his fingers pressing you harder down there and him with the way your pretty hands traced down his torso and went over to his waistline, ready to unbuckle his belt single handedly.

With a quick motion, he stopped everything he was doing and trapped both your hands momentarily in order to stop your incoming action. You looked at him full of confusion and his face got serious. He began to unbuckle his belt on his own, wrapped it around his hands and tightened it with his teeth. Finally, he sat down on the floor, head falling back on the toilet's closed seat.

He looks so pretty and slutty that you want to take a picture and keep it among your most precious jewelry. You smiled and put your hair behind your ears before bursting into laughter.

''What a good boy you are all tied up and sweeping the floor with your clothed ass! What for?''

''Sit on my face baby. Please''

Hold on. Have the tables turned already? Anyone would think that that's the case, he's begging for you to choke him with your pussy lips after all, how can it not be that?

''Please baby I need to taste you. Sit on it'' he repeated, looking absolutely stunning with his hands tied up like this and with the veins on his neck and arms becoming even more visible.

How could you say no to that nose? You absolutely adore that nose. You might as well have fallen deeply in love with it and the way it hits your clit while he sucks all your wetness off before reproducing it.

''Oh my god Wooyoung! Don't stop! So good-'' you managed to make up your sentence in between your loud moans and trying not to crush him under you, even though that's what he wants most.

His erection cannot be denied any longer if it ever could have been to begin with. His dick's so hard that it's now noticable ,not just on it's own but also by the way Woo's making slow and passionate thrusts in plain air.

It doesn't seem to cause a problem though, as his main goal is for you to cum on his face, tremble around him and choke him with your wet thighs that he so desperately wants to lay slaps on. Too bad he didn't think about it when he was tying himself up like the poor rope bunny he is.

Once he stopped tongue fucking you for a moment to catch his breath, you wrapped your fingers tightly on his hair and repositioned him, causing his glasses to fall from his head.

You're grinding on him, completely out of this world. His high pitched moans, his warm breath beneath you and his kitten licks while you're getting yourself off on him by rocking your hips in a slow and passionate rhythm, sends shivers down your spine and makes Wooyoung see stars. He's about to cum in his pants, untouched, just completely pussy drunk.

He didn't want to cum alone though, he wanted to share the experience, so he sped up the pace of his tongue on your clit. Your grip on his hair tightened, giving him the confirmation he needed that you were so close to finally letting go and reaching your highest with the stranger that paid for your Martini.

And that confirmation became a happening, an explosive one to be more precise. He twitched in his pants as you painted his ethereal face with your sweet liquids he so enjoyed devouring these past few minutes. You were both so high on pleasure that you didn't even notice the barman knocking on your bathroom stall's door.

''Hey there lovebirds, sorry to interrupt but the cops are to arrive soon due to the music being too loud apparently. I'll have to call it a night before they get here so-'' he said and placed Wooyoung's jacket on the door handle from outside ''Goodnight''

And on that note, he left and went back to his post. You looked at each other, both breathless, fucked up and dizzy.

Once you almost stabilized your system, you helped him up and freed him from his own enslavement. In return, he slapped your ass instinctively as you bent down to pick your dress.

''Holy fuck, I wanted to do that for some time now''

''Too bad you tied yourself, even though it was a pretty good sight''

''Glad you enjoyed it'' he said and smiled while helping you put your dress on.

When you crossed the bathroom's border for the second and last time this night, the barman blinked at the sight of you two and started applauding before waving goodbye. You bowed in reply and left the bar with Wooyoung accompanying you, contrary to how you first got there.

''So, I still got those questions I have to get answers out of you.''

''Yeah, I want to think of some questions to ask you too''

''I'll treat you to dinner, what do you say?'' he proposed, eyes focused on your lips again.

''I'd rather we prepared it together at my place. I'll send you the address''

''Yeah that sounds more convenient. See you around then beautiful'' he added his final line of the night and pecked your lips goodbye. “WAIT” he shouted abruptly breaking the street’s silence which almost made you piss yourself.

“Yeah?”

“What’s your name?”

“Oh. You’re right. It’s Y/N!”

“Okay! Goodnight Y/N”

“Goodnight Wooyoung.''

...

When you reached your appartment, it was like reality struck you down again. When you were accompanied by Wooyoung, all your problems seemed to have had drifted away.

“But now, looking back on the mountain of cigarette butts on my ashtray, I’m reminded that I can’t just keep avoiding all my problems. Instead, I have to take action and face them somehow. That’s what I’ll do starting from tomorrow!” you proudly announced and placed yet another such butt on that mountain.

“Good for you! But now that you’ve got all that figured out, will you finally let me, your favorite mountain, take some rest? It’s 5 a.m, how are you that energetic?” San let out his frustration in between sighs, since you woke him up just to state your philosophical thoughts on how life basically works.

“I’ll tell you another time. Goodnight sleepyhead, see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that might happen if you stop clenching on your door handle”

“I will dummy, don’t worry. Sleep well” you said and he hung up without saying anything. You’re happy he even did you the favor and answered so you don’t mind at all. You need to get some sleep as well. It’s not an easy trip visiting and returning back from your highest point, heaven, anyway.

…

“Did your hair get longer?” Mingi looked at you surprised before sitting back down on his chair and handed your coffees over to you and San.

“Oh stop it you! Just because you haven’t seen me for a month doesn’t mean I changed that much!- Did I though? Is it bad?!”

“No, you’re the same small baby we love and cherish” San said and squeezed your cheek

“The same small SHITTY baby you mean” Mingi added in between coughs and received a death stare by San

“So… Any news?” San broke the ice and both you and Mingi laughed. For different reasons but you still laughed.

“How could she have any news to present when she was rotting in bed all day, going out only to empty her trashcan?”

“Actually�� I’d like to talk about a certain topic…”

“Does it have to do with what you told me that night on the phone?” San remembered the conversation you had held two weeks ago, the night you last saw him.

It pains you and it’s been fucking your mood up for the past two weeks that you’ve had no contact at all. How could you have had any though, he didn’t even ask for your number! You really fooled yourself thinking you had saved it somewhere, that’s why you proposed dinner at your place that day. But he never tried sneaking it in your purse nor simply giving it to you directly.

You’ve been devastated and you couldn’t search for him as you don’t even know his last name. There were zero possibilities of you finding him and you thought that talking it through with your two favourite people would help you develop your new coping mechanism.

“Sort of”

“Are you going to fill me in? I have no idea what you’re talking about” Mingi said and took a disguising sip from his coffee cup, sharing a very loud noise with everyone sitting at the coffeeshop.

“Alright, remember that night you wanted to fuck that red head and then you found out that she was a lesbian?” San explained the timeline to Mingi based on their side of the story and Mingi nodded so that San would continue “Well, Y/N called me in the middle of that same night and woke me up to tell me about her remarkable life philosophies!”

“Wow! Y/N, I hate to break it to you but that that philosophical outburst wasn’t your ‘mc moment’. We all have those from time to time”

“Guys, my life philosophies are not what I want to talk to you about! Something else happened that night! Someone, to be completely honest”

“DID YOU CALL YOUR EX AGAIN?” they both shouted and stood up, forgetting about the fact that you’re having this conversation in public.

“Calm down! I did not call anyone. That’s the problem. I didn’t get his number”

“Whose number?! Do you have an imaginary boyfriend again? Are you in need of a prescription? Did loneliness turn you completely mad?!” Mingi asked angry and worried to the core but he didn’t even let you explain!

“Gosh Mingi, will you shut up and let me tell you about it?! If you want to be angry then go be angry by yourself, San will listen”

“San always listens” San said with a complaint hiding behind his wide smile

“Okay, go on. I will zip it”

“So, after I cancelled on you guys, I decided to go out by myself and I fucked this guy-“

“YOU FUCKED A GUY?!”

“She’s not a lesbian San, not everyone’s a lesbian. Only the girls I like apparently. Go on little one, I’m invested in your gossip”

You let a small sigh and got caught off guard by the waitress picking up your ashtray and emptying it in the plastic bag she was holding. You gave her a soft smile and when you turned back to look at your friends to continue your speech, you were greeted by a so greatly-missed choice of styling.

Fuck, you missed that eyebrow piercing so much as if it is your alleged husband coming back home from the military. He was already hugging San when you caught your eye on him. Thus, he had exceeded your notice on him right away, wasting no time to stare at you with that beautiful smile you rode like a total slut two weeks ago.

He was wearing the shop’s uniform and had his long hair tied in a small low ponytail, his strands falling in front of his face causing a problem for him again. Too bad he doesn’t have his glasses to hold them behind this time.You laughed at the plot line of your thoughts, catching all three’s attention. You two broke contact only to just reconnect it even stronger than it was before. The other two took turns in towards who to look at.

With a deep shy and some steps to get closer to you, he decided to speak up.

“How’s the coffee?”

“Tasty” you affirmed his currently questioning disposition “Did you make it?”

“That’s right. I would’ve been more artistic in it’s making if I knew that you’d be the one having it.”

“That’s okay, just the fact that you took the energy to make it does the job for me”

“Glad you’re enjoying it” he teasingly said, repeating his own words that had you stunned that night, right after his face riding session. On that note, he turned around and went back inside as his duties as a humanised coffee machine are calling him.

San and Mingi’s jaws were dropped on the floor because they could feel you two’s tension, without being updated on the context yet.

“Y/N honey, can you explain one thing to me?” Mingi’s face got all serious as he placed both hands on the table “How do you and my beloved mate Jung Wooyoung know each other?”

That's it! That’s His full name!

“Well… I kinda sat on his face two weeks ago in that bar’s bathroom stall...” you said bluntly and San’s laugh could probably be heard from really far away

“Of course you did” Mingi said trying to cope with this amusing new information he just received

“Well, I would too. Never had the chance to” San supported your horniness’ random spike, receiving wide stares from you and your other bestie because of it “What? I’m just being honest, he’s always been hot. So what now? What are you thinking of doing now?”

“Well, I don’t know.”

“Go ask him to fuck during his break time. He’ll be more than pleased to”

“What? Why’d you think I’d want to fuck him again Mr. Song? And why now of all times?”

“Well, I talked about both of you, not just about you Y/N. You two seemed like you were ready to ruin each other right in front of us, right San?”

“That’s right” San added and crossed his legs “You have to get his number this time”

“I can’t just go and disturb him while he’s working to ask for his number! Besides, I’m sure you two can just give it to me. He’s your friend, isn’t he?”

“No. You’re not having it that easy! I’m sure he’ll give it to you without question. Just go and take it!”

“San, I haven’t seen him in two weeks and we were both drunk that night. We had just met too! It’ll look weird if I just go and ask for his number”

“So you riding his face with the view of a fucking bathroom stall isn’t weird? You passed through that phase I’m sure you can pass this one too and go fuck somewhere. Moreover, it’ll be a chance to get you out of your dump again” Mingi played dirty with that one

“Agreed.”

“Fuck stop getting me unnumbered guys!”

“What can I say, it’s duty calling us to help you get your shit together. Go claim your man before anyone else does” Mingi said and put his jacket on

You looked at San but he just gave you a little supportive push towards the door. You can’t go back now and lose this opportunity right? It’s the moment you’ve been looking forward to happening. He’s right here and you can use it to your advantage! What could possibly go wrong?

You’re just stressing over the possibility of him not have given you his number on purpose that day. Cause, how could he forget? How could he forget after leading you on so well? Were his intentions simply for a ‘one night stand’? Why’d he ensure you continuity though?

Nah, he’s not having it. You deserve an explanation, a really good one. He can’t just go and hit on you on a random Saturday, grab his portion and then not pay the deserved way.

With that on your mind, you walked towards him, watching his every move carefully as you approached his aspect.

“Missed me?” he said without even looking at you. He just so gently wiped a cup dry, your eyes focused on his grip.

Unbelievable. You’re unbelievable, so desperate for his attention that it’s making you angry. ‘He’s just another man, get your shit together Y/N’, you thought to yourself. But is he just ‘another man’ to you?

“Won’t you say anything? Not gonna ask me how I’ve been?”

“There’d be no reason to do that If you’d given me your number!” you mumbled

“What was that?” he said and finally did you the favour to look into your eyes

He completely melted in those five seconds of eye contact. He was ready to leave everything behind, grab your hand and go spend time with you, anywhere you told him to. But you, you were taken over by anger. You could feel the frustration caused by his absence drive you insane. You wanted to slap him for being so unbothered but you knew that’d turn both of you on. So what can you do?

“Huh?” he asked again as you seemed distracted and forgot to reply to his question or rather chose not to.

“Oh forget it Wooyoung. Good day” you said and sprang out of the cafeteria

Right when the air hit your hair, Mingi and San knew by the look on your face that something didn’t go according to plan. They ran after you only to be greeted goodbye as all you wanted then was to be alone and try to ‘fix yourself’ as you said.

You’re disappointed. Totally disappointed. Why? Oh, the answer’s simple. It’s that you should’ve accepted the fact that the acting in a movie is still acting, no matter how real it comes out. It’s not really life. So, what felt like a movie to you that night was fake from the start.

Hypocrisy was what bonded you and Jung Wooyoung together in your little head. What you do want is was felt real but isn’t. He was never really interested in getting to know you, he didn’t even look at you until you seemed frustrated! He just asked all these questions that day to light up the mood, that’s why he was sexualising everything. Wouldn’t he want to look at you if he’d truly missed you? You were the one who couldn’t take your eyes off of him, how could he not put the slightest effort after declaring his statement that time, that including him being so into you?

‘It’s just another man, you’ll be fine’, you thought to yourself again. On the other hand, there’s still this other part of you in your little head that keeps telling you to go back and ask him straight away, ‘Did you just want to have it served to you once and never again?’ but you won’t be doing that. Your ego’s too high to go this low with your actions.

You began to walk faster than before as you slapped yourself hard enough with your thoughts to want to have them erased.

You can’t believe it. How could he? No, the true question is ‘How could you Y/N?’. How could you let yet another man play with your feelings when you knew his intentions from the start? This one’s different. No, all he wanted was to get his portion and leave the rest to the table to rot. Fuck, how could I’ve been so stupid?

Footsteps and footsteps and footsteps and footsteps and-

“Fuck, why’d you run off like that? Do you not care about my lungs nor our situation at all??” he asked with his hand on your shoulder, breathless and with sweat dripping down his forehead.

You removed his hand from your shoulder and you turned around to do what you’ve been doing for the past five minutes, walking and avoiding your feelings.

“Oh c’mon Y/N! Are you really that apathetic?”

“Sorry? I was right there, you didn’t even look at me once and I’m the one called out for being apathetic? Please-“ you said and tried to walk away again before he sprang in front of you, stoping your motion “Will you please stop whatever you’re doing? Stop acting like you care so much to the point that you’ll get yourself in trouble, cause you don’t “

“How’d you come to that conclusion?”

“You’ve made it very clear Woo. You didn’t try to keep in touch, you just wanted your dose and that’s where you put your period when you got it.“

“I didn’t get my dose though”

“Oh, I see. Let’s blame the neighbours for calling the cops and interruptinh our private session now, that’s all we have left to blame and do anyway”

“No, we haven’t done everything yet. I haven’t asked you what I meant to ask you. That’s why I ran all this way, putting myself in trouble for doing so. I might lose my job for this but I don’t care. But for you, I do care. So, why’d you not give me your number since I didn’t? That’s the real question”

He’s got a great point there. Not once did you think about it, why’d you not do it? Were you scared? Were you humiliated? Were you anxious? Were you-

“I simply thought we’d exchanged it already”

“So how could you have the right to forget about it and forget about me so easily? I went mad all these days, waiting for you, at the bar. You never showed up. Why’d you not show up?”

You then could recognise the purity in his eyes that you fell in love with that night. That excessive desperation that made your insides tangle. You know you fell hard for him, that’s why you let it slide, that’s why he’s not in fact ‘just another man’ to you. How could one be mad at him?

“I don’t know… After thinking I’d never see you again, I got closed up in my house once more. I didn’t want to go out and meet someone else. I didn’t want to meet anyone to be completely honest.”

“You shouldn’t do that! You’re too pretty to be hiding yourself in there. It’s also unhealthy.“ he said and made you smile, finally. He looks so proud and relaxed, like he was waiting for this moment. Just seeing you smile felt like the sun finally showing up after being hidden in the clouds. In other words, you’re that small sparkle that brightened his shitty day. It worked as a confirmation for him, your smile, as he understood how much you actually lovestruck him.

“So it wasn’t just a ‘one time thing’ for you?”

“Do you think I’d sweat that much If it was just a ‘one time thing’ for me? My legs don’t work well, fuck, I have to exercise more frequently” and yet came another laugh that sounded like melody to his ears “Oh, by the way- This is for you” he said and put a small and cutely folded paper in your back pocket.

What a tease he truly is and how you love it.

“Was that our receipt?” you teased back while approaching him closer than you already were.

“It’s a surprise. I’ll tell you about it when we have that cooking session we talked about yeah?”

“Okay, I’ll call you. I promise.” you said as you knew exactly what that little billet doux contained.

“Okay lovebug, I’ll be waiting” he said and let himself completely loose once he felt your touch on his cheek, before your lips met in a tender kiss.

He really can’t control himself around you. Same problem as on your first encounter. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, not seeming like he wanted to let go.

“I’m so glad I found you again Y/N. Would you have came to the bar to find me? Did you think about it?”

“I did but didn’t have the courage to. I’d probably meet you through Mingi and San though someday. I wish I knew sooner so that I’d keep in touch”

“Yeah, but we will now!”

“That’s right but for now, you need to go back. You’ll lose your job”

“Shit, I totally forgot about that.” he said and panicked. You smiled as he kissed your hand after hugging you. “So… I’ll be going now okay?”

“Of course.” you replied and waved him goodbye, him too.

You got lost in your own thoughts again, which this time were formed with his not probable urges. Your mindset is now set in a new theme, under the name ‘Jung Wooyoung’. Wow, you really are a lucky girl.

“Don’t be a stranger, stranger!” he shouted, blowed you kisses from afar and began to run towards the cafeteria’s direction.

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #atiny #jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung fanfic #jung wooyoung imagines #wooyoung #jung wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut

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catt-leya · 2 years

Text

Collide || Rick Grimes 18+

About the fic: 'Collide' was the first smutty fic I ever wrote and I posted it one year ago. During the year a lot of people asked me for a second part, but since I believed I had better ones I never took the second part in consideration (it was my first and well...you can see I had no clue what I was doing while writing it hihi)

Soooo I thought it might be fun to rewrite 'Collide' one year later and see how it works (as a little celebration for my first year here)...and I fell in love and since I'm not writing a second part of it I made it WAY longer with actual smut...have fun 💗

Summary: Rick and you are on a run and you can't stand each other until you have to work together...

Trigger: dirty talk, choking (?), breeding (?), enemies to lovers (?) they hate each other

Annoyed, you stomp through the forest behind Rick.

You just can't stand it when he orders you around, and when he told you to go with him to look for an outpost, you thought you'd jump down his throat.

Your eyes bore into his back, "Enlighten me. Why would you want me to come with you? Couldn't you have brought someone else who would rather be with you? Daryl, Michonne, or just a rock for all I care."

You see exactly how his shoulders lift as he takes a deep breath, "I couldn't find a rock big enough to replace you."

Rick and you don't really get along and mostly try to avoid each other, but you can also understand why he didn't want to roam the woods alone. That's where you're a better backup than not having one at all.

Especially since, despite your differences, you wouldn't let anything happen to him and you can be sure that he would step into the breach for you too.

You've known each other since the time you spent in prison and yet you've never warmed up to each other. Your only common ground, besides your need to protect others, is probably your friendship with Daryl, who has long since given up on bringing you together in any way.

In the beginning, you were also annoyed that Rick took on the role of leader, until you had to admit that he's really good at it, and now you're just upset when he lets the all-knowing leader hang out in front of you.

Groaning, you continue to stomp after him, mentally slapping yourself as you notice your eyes sliding over his back, which is covered by a brown leather jacket.

You can't stand it when he wears that stupid jacket, and you can stand it even less when he brushes a few strands out of his face like he's doing now, causing the jacket to lift up with his shirt so that you can see a narrow strip of his skin.

You grit your teeth and hiss, "Couldn't we have taken a car?"

He looks over his shoulder at you and his blue eyes seem to gleam in the murky forest, "And then what? Should we have just run over some trees to get to the outpost?"

You roll your eyes, "Maybe you haven't heard, genius. But there's an invention called a ROAD."

Annoyed, he turns away and you hear him mutter softly, "I should have looked harder for a rock."

"Ha. Ha. Ha."

You take your eyes off him and look up into the treetops.

Summer is so slowly saying goodbye and the leaves are changing color. But, what makes the day so dull today is the fog that hangs incredibly low.

Thick swaths dance around the branches above you and you watch so fascinated that you don't see the root in front of your feet and stumble.

You squeak softly and try to find your balance, which only results in you taking three awkward steps and Rick turning to you at the girly sound you make.

Before you take your last step, you already know you wouldn't catch yourself again and reach out to Rick to steady yourself. Only you didn't think he'd stand as steady as a blade of grass in the wind, and you yank him to the ground with you.

After the dull thud, you can count yourself lucky that you landed on him and that he didn't push you to the ground with all his weight.

Flat on his back, Rick lies beneath you and closes his eyes, groaning, "Holy shit."

The impact has pushed all the air out of your lungs and you take a deep breath, "Sorry."

All that comes from him is a "Hmmm" and you grab his shoulders to push yourself up off of him.

Your whole body is pressed against his and you block out the warm feeling gathering between your legs as you straighten up as far as you can before your waistband gets caught in his belts.

You can't even really see what's slipping in where before you're moaning, "Holy shit. Couldn't one belt have been enough for you?"

Confused, he opens his eyes, "Huh?"

Testifying, you try to get your pants off him and mimic him, "'Huh?' That's your only contribution?"

You feel his body tense under you as he lifts his head slightly to see what's even going on and then sighs, "Woman, now don't act like this shit is my fault. How about next time you don't trip, or at least have the good grace not to knock me over too?"

Rick's arrogance provokes you to nag, "And how about next time you catch me and not fall over like a wet bag of rice?"

You can see him getting angrier, and perversely, it really turns you on.

His eyes are much darker than before and you seriously have the urge to rub up against him. Disgusted with yourself, you shake your head and Rick grits his teeth as he hisses, "Get your ass up so I can get at it, if you can't do it yourself."

You're reluctant to do what he asks, but if you really want to get away from him, you have no choice, and you straighten up on your knees to the left and right of his thighs as much as you can so that he can reach between you with his hand.

The fact that his hand is so close to the spot between your legs in the process that under normal circumstances you would tick his hand off, you try to ignore and instead release one hand from his shoulder to press your loose shirt against your body.

In order for him to see what he's doing, he has to look down at you, and you don't feel the urge to show him your bare tits.

Of course, he notices your attempt to keep your dignity and murmurs softly, "Relax. There's nothing to see anyway."

If you still had a free hand, you'd love to slap him, but with your shirt problem and the fact that his shoulder is your only support at the moment, you have to settle for a venomous stare.

He doesn't even notice and instead tugs hard on your pants so that your crotch presses firmly against his and he growls, "I outlast hordes of walkers and then scrape off because you can't look where you're going."

You dig your fingers into his shoulder "Oh my god, you're so dramatic. We're not going to die just because our pants got caught," and then grumble, "Hold my shirt. I have small hands, maybe I can get it to work."

Unsatisfied, he's now the one pressing the shirt against your body and you use your hand to get at your problem.

His belt buckle sits oddly on one loop of your pants and you try to pull it out of his belt, "I swear that was the last time I went out alone with you, Rick."

His knuckles graze your collarbone and you wince.

Exasperated, you growl, "I'll just take my pants off in a minute."

He mutters a "God forbid," and you jerk your head up to kill him with your gaze, "Rick, I swear to you, if the next thing that comes out of your mouth isn't helpful, I'm going to lose it."

He rolls his eyes, "You talk so incredibly much. Can't you just shut up for a minute so I can spin us so I'm on top?"

His choice of words brings a blush to your face and you hiss, "I talk when I want to and I know you'd love to shut me up, but hardly anything smart comes from you either."

His gaze slides down your body and he mumbles into his beard, "I know what I could stuff your mouth with to keep you quiet and you'd probably thank me for it."

Frozen, you pause in mid-motion and look at him.

You're not sure if you imagined his words, or maybe your imagination is running away with you. At least you now see in your mind's eye what he would press into your mouth, and that brings your heart out of rhythm for a moment.

A few seconds pass before he looks you in the face again and you find your voice again, whispering harshly, "I'm certainly not going to lie on my back like a helpless bug while you push me to the floor."

Mischievousness flashes in his eyes and you now truly believe he is actually flirting with you, "Afraid of having me on top of you?"

He releases his hand from your shirt and rests it on your neck instead. You don't care at the moment that your neckline is now gaping open again, and as his thumb runs over your pulse, you're sure he can feel how fast your heart is beating.

You're really afraid to have him on top of you.

Afraid of being pressed to the ground by his body in such a way that your movements are even more restricted than they already are, because momantaneously you still have at least the slightest measure of superiority over him. But as soon as he has you under him, that little difference is gone.

It's only now, as you let your eyes slide over his face, that you notice how close your lips actually are, and you have the brief reflex to just lean down and cover his pretty mouth with yours. You stare at his lips as he grins boyishly and asks, "So, don't you want to know what it would feel like?"

How it would feel to have him inside you is the only thought your mind can manage, and you actually whimper out.

Taking advantage of this brief moment of weakness, Rick swiftly spins you around so that he's between your legs, his pelvis pressing firmly against you.

You draw in a sharp breath as you feel how hard his cock is and gasp softly, "Rick."

Blinking, he looks down at you and you feel his chest press against your soft tits with each breath he takes.

Briefly, like you, he seems to have forgotten what got you into this situation before he shakes his head and positions himself on his elbow so he can lift his hip and reach between you again, "I can't believe how tight this shit is."

Fluttering, your eyes fall shut and you think about how wet you already are for him. Oh my god, you can't stand him, but you also can't pretend you're not going to let him fuck you right here and now.

In a hushed voice, you ask him, "Rick? Is it working? Otherwise, just take my pants off."

You realize that he's also just a man who probably hasn't slept with a woman in a long time (not that you're paying attention) and it probably doesn't have much to do with you personally that his cock is twitching in his pants and you can feel it between your legs.

"Please don't talk about taking your pants off," he says in a husky voice and at the word 'please' you open your eyes again.

He's given up on undoing his belt and instead props himself up on both elbows above you, "I don't plan on dying with a hard-on in my pants."

You don't know what to do with your hands, so without giving it much thought, you grope his upper arms, "And again, you're being so dramatic. We're not particularly far from Alexandria and we've secured the area, so don't be a pussy and just take my fucking pants off."

He flinches and squints his eyes.

So you try to reach between you yourself to unzip your pants, he presses harder against you, so you can't reach your pants with your hand and instead have to stifle a moan yourself as he presses hard against you again.

"In case you haven't figured it out yet: I'm overly horny and you certainly can't take your pants off without me cumming in my own. So hands off," he growls with arousal.

His direct words make you whimper softly and you press closer to him.

The annoyed mood turns to something else entirely and you breathe softly, "I certainly don't even need my hands for that. I can promise you that."

You know he doesn't want to react to you like that, but he groans anyway as you start rubbing up against him.

The problem with his belt and your pant loop is forgotten, and you pull him down to you by the back of his neck.

You don't even have to ask him to, he's already putting his lips on your pounding pulse and kissing the heated skin.

You gyrate your hips and grip his hair tightly as you hear him moan against your neck.

Your breathing is erratic and you wrap your legs around his narrow waist to pull him even closer to you.

What you wouldn't give to make the distracting fabric of your jeans disappear and let him slide into you.

The way he moves over you turns you to putty in his arms and you whimper, "More."

You don't care how pathetic you sound or what he would say afterward. In the here and now, you want him to take you.

Hard.

You hear his muffled moan against your neck, "Fuck, I thought you hated me."

Tense, you press your lips together, and when you don't answer him, he lifts his head and pushes your chin up with one hand so far you have no choice but to look at him.

"I don't hate you. I just don't like you very much," you say, but you can't even believe yourself.

He leans forward, his lips brushing yours ever so slightly, "Oh, is that so? So if you don't like people, you dry hump them?"

You can't bring yourself to say anything but his name and he breathes, "Talk to me."

Again he pushes his cock to just the right spot and your insides tighten in excitement, "Please, Rick."

You're at the point where you're begging him to make you cum, and you let your hands slide down his back to pull his jacket and shirt up enough for your hands to rest on his bare back.

His skin feels soft under your fingertips and you sigh softly against his lips, still millimeters from yours.

You don't care about the cool floor and all you want is Rick.

"I love it when you make those soft sounds," it sounds like he's reluctant to admit it, but you reward him for his honesty by purring, "Make me do them again."

Growling, he presses his lips to yours, pushing himself a little further over you, which brings a soft click and without looking, you know your pants have come off his belt.

Rick hears it, too, and breaks away from your lips in surprise to sit up and realize that you're no longer stuck to each other.

He himself is staring at his belt and you can't stop your eyes as they move a few inches lower and you stare at the bulge that was pressed against your pussy just a few seconds ago.

The silence is oppressive and where normally you would barely hold back and throw things at each other, now you are silent.

You'd like to say you're no longer attracted to him now that he's not so close, but you can't stop thinking about how warm his skin felt under your palms and how his kiss tasted.

He is still kneeling motionless between your legs and you are lying flat on your back. Your nipples are clearly visible through the thin fabric of your shirt, and you'd love to squeeze your legs together to ease the throbbing between them, but instead you say softly, "Rick."

He releases his gaze from his belt and looks at you as if he's seeing you for the first time in his life.

You know full well you could make a complete ass of yourself and he'd rub it in your face for years, but you meekly mumble, "Take off your jacket and shirt, please."

Over the years, you've learned that Rick is extremely hard to read and you never know if he's going to give you a hug or tick you off. He's always in control of his facial features.

Except now.

His mouth hangs open and he looks at you as if you had asked him to stick a stick up his ass and start a fire with it.

You take a deep breath and push yourself up with your hands so that you can sit in front of him and grab his jacket yourself.

He doesn't move an inch.

You run your hands over the soft fabric on his collar and then slide a little lower to gather the fabric in your small hands and pull the jacket off his broad shoulders. As you do so, you bend even further towards him and his eyes lock onto your lips.

You set the jacket down beside you on the dry leaves and tug at the hem of his shirt, "Don't make me beg you."

Slowly he looks you in the eye again and your breath catches as you realize how close you are to his face again. You could count every single gray hair in his beard and see the shades of blue in his eyes.

The thought "Shit, he's handsome" flits through your mind and you wonder where you mustered the self-control to more or less ignore how incredibly attractive he is.

For a while, you just stare into each other's eyes until Rick lifts his hands and reaches down his neck to pull his shirt over his head.

It's not the first time you've seen Rick topless, but it's the first time you've wanted to see him like this, and the first time you've wanted to touch him.

His stomach rises with each breath, and you hate yourself for how this normal action makes you moan softly.

When he hears it, he bites his lower lip and puts his shirt down on his jacket.

Slowly, he leans toward you, making you back away further until you're flat on your back again and he's towering over you.

"Does this change anything between us?" his voice is rough and soaked with arousal, which only makes your voice seem higher, "No."

Like a predator about to pounce on its prey, he looks at you, "You're still going to hate me after I fuck you?"

You raise your hand and trace his collarbone with your finger, "Exactly." Again, you hear the lie in that one little word.

Even Rick laughs, shaking his head, and then leans down so his lips graze yours again, "I don't believe a word you say."

Instead of defending yourself or repeating yourself, you bridge the small distance that separates you and kiss him.

You think you hear a soft "fuck" from him, but you may have imagined it because you're far too busy sliding your hands over his torso.

The hair on his chest is soft under your palms, and the further down you slide, the more his abs twitch under your touch.

Awkwardly, you try to push your chin higher so Rick doesn't have to lean so far down toward you to make up for the size difference, and whimper into the kiss as he puts a hand to your neck and pushes your head higher that way himself.

The way his hips rest heavily on you and his tongue is deep in your mouth makes you feel complete.

You run your fingers over the fuzz of hair leading from his navel to his belt and he pushes his hips further towards you, inviting you to continue.

The cool metal of his belt buckle in your hands makes you flinch briefly and he releases his lips from yours to kiss your jaw and then your neck.

Panting, you lay your head to the side to give him more room and as he brushes the spot behind your ear you didn't even know existed.

Rick knows exactly what to do to get soft sounds of arousal to pass your lips and as he gently bites your neck, your fingers tighten around his belt buckle.

"Unbuckle it," he murmurs in your ear and your whole body trembles.

Breathing heavily, you open first his holster and then the regular belt he wears.

He may seem like he's in complete control, but the way he thrusts his hips at you and his cock twitches as you run your fingertips over his denim says something else entirely.

He wants you at least as much as you want him.

Before you can tamper with his jeans, though, he slides his own hand between you and pulls your neckline down from your shirt so far that your tits puffs out and he pushes himself down enough to take your nipple in his mouth.

At the very first contact of his tongue on your tip, you can no longer suppress a soft cry.

"That's the way I've always imagined it," his voice drips with satisfaction and pride and you're far too busy feeling his body on yours to give him a piece of your mind.

Slowly he licks over your nipple and then says again, "Just like that. The way you squirm under me and can't think of anything but finally having my cock in your tight pussy and I'm sure you're tight. So fucking tight that I'm going to fill every inch of you and stretch you so far that you're going to beg me to stop."

Lasciviously he looks at you through his thick lashes and you moan softly, "Is that a promise?"

He pauses in his position for a moment before he pulls away from you and you hold out your arms to him like a whining toddler. You panic, thinking he wants to leave you lying there, "Please don't. Don't leave."

Surprised, Rick looks at you as if he can't believe you're really talking to him in such a meek and needy way.

A slight breeze blows over you and your nipples become even harder from the cool air and the wetness left from Rick's tongue.

Hectically you try to reach for him again, "Please don't, Rick."

You don't care at that moment how pathetic you sound, and in fact you're rewarded by him reaching for your hands, which you hold out to him, and leaning in to breathe a kiss on the back of each of your hands, "Easy."

He rests your hands on your stomach and casually strokes your hard nipples, "I'll stay with you. I just want to get your pants off, okay?"

Shame breaks over you and you squint your eyes, "Of course. Sorry."

You're irritated by the way you're suddenly acting toward him, but strangest of all is how gentle and sweet Rick is to you.

It's not that you didn't think he could do it, because you know perfectly well how he acts toward his young daughter and can be incredibly soft to others, too, like Maggie or Daryl.

It's just that you wouldn't have expected him to be able to show that side of himself in front of you, too.

"Don't be embarrassed," his words make you look at him again, "What?"

Grinning, he undoes the button of your pants, "Don't be embarrassed that you want me. In fact, I think it's pretty damn hot that you don't even want to let me out of your reach."

He unzips, "And I bet-" he slides his hand down your pants, "That you're more than willing and wet for me."

His fingers meet your swollen and as he predicted, already wet pussy and you gasp, "Rick…please…oh fuck…"

He gathers up some of your arousal and circles your clit, "What are you begging me for?"

You try to spread your legs wider so you can get more of him, but your pants won't allow it and you whimper, "For more. Please."

Instead of granting your wish, he withdraws his hand again and your brain goes blank, making you speak more freely than ever, "Oh God, I'll do anything you want, but don't stop."

A cocky grin steals onto his face, "If I'd known I'd get you this submissive, I'd have fingered you back when you threatened to kick me in the balls if I hadn't let you have the better room."

Before you can say anything back, he finally removes your shoes and pants before his eyes fall on your red lace panties, "Like you knew red was my favorite color."

The panties reveal more than they cover, and the fact that you're sliding your butt back and forth to signal Rick to finally pull the last of the offending fabric off your ass makes him groan in agony, "When I fuck you, you're mine, got it?"

Your eyes lock on his boner, "What? I don't belong to anyone."

Rick's calloused hands run over your thighs to your hipbones and then he reaches for the fabric, "Once my cock is inside you, you are. Then you're mine."

Speechless, you stare at him and he tugs lightly at the fabric, "You won't let anyone else touch you and you'll spread your legs for me when I want you to."

Silently you laugh out, "I'm certainly not going to let you fuck me when and where you want. You can forget it."

Agonizingly slow, he removes your panties and the cool air hits your swollen pussy, "Wanna bet, do you?"

In fact, it's that very arrogance that turns you on so incredibly that you'd like to punch yourself.

Defiantly a poisonous answer lies on your lips, there he reaches for his own pants and when he takes them off and also pulls his blue boxers over his ass, all words stick in your throat.

Big and hard, his cock is waiting to finally penetrate you and your heart is faster than your head, "Okay."

He takes himself in hand and runs his fist over the shaft several times, "Okay what?"

You can't take your eyes off him and you notice your pussy tighten around nothing, "Fuck me so I can't walk and I'm yours."

His cock twitches at your words and you reach your arms out to him again.

This time you don't have to ask him to lie on top of you, and he positions himself between your legs so that the tip of his cock strokes your pussy.

You squirm under him to take him inside you, crying softly, "I want you so much."

Softly he snorts against your neck, "Not as much as I want you and have for so long."

Fluttering, your eyes fall closed, "Rick…"

Again he kisses the spot behind your ear and your body rears up as he pushes himself inside you a few inches.

You haven't slept with a man in a while and after seeing how big Rick is, you find it hard to believe that he actually manages to fuck you deeper without tearing your pussy apart.

Unable to hold on to anything else, you dig your fingers into his shoulder blades and enjoy the low growl that comes from his throat, "You're made for me."

With your left hand you grab his hair and pull so hard that he takes his mouth off your neck and kisses you on the lips instead.

You feel him inside your pussy, taste him in your mouth, and can smell him.

Everything around you is Rick and you forget why you don't actually like him.

Yoy forget that you didn't actually want to be out with him alone and instead whisper, "Yeah, made for you."

You wrap your thighs around his bare hips and pull him even tighter against you.

The pressure from your legs makes him sag a little lower, hitting just the right spot inside you at the angle that makes you tense violently around him and pull him even deeper inside you, "Rick…there…right there…"

Gasping, he presses his forehead against yours and pulls back, only to thrust into you again and you can't bring anything but a wistful whimper to your lips.

You dig your heels into his ass and try to press him as close as you can.

With one hand, he grabs your tit and squeezes hard enough to knock you out of your mind and your dignity as you whimper, "Harder."

His blue eyes are misty and he has to blink several times before he looks at you properly, "Fuck, you're taking me in so well. Clinging to my cock like the world depends on me cumming inside you."

His cock twitches and you stroke through his sweaty hair, "You're so deep inside me."

Suddenly something flashes in his eyes and he pauses.

"I want to show you something," at his words you shake your head, "Not now, please go on. Please."

But he pulls back on you and he has more strength than you, so you can't do anything about it either and just whine, "Rick, come back here. You can't do this to me. You're not that cruel."

Raucously, he laughs up and leans in to your ear, "Easy, honey. Your pussy is mine anyway and I'm certainly not going to waste how good you feel around my cock. I just want you to see something."

Confused and unsatisfied, you pull his hair to get him to look at you, and when your eyes meet, he says softly, "You only ever feel me up to the hilt inside you, but have you seen it?"

He must see that you don't get what he's getting at and shifts his weight so that his cock is resting heavily on your bare belly.

Your own wetness sticks to his cock and is now slowly running down onto your belly to mix with your own sweat.

You can't take your eyes off him as his precum also drips onto your belly and you ask hoarsely, "Rick?"

"Now you see how deep I really am inside you," never have you heard his voice so deep and your whole body goes weak.

Never before have you visually seen how deep you can have a cock inside you and now it's Rick's lying on top of you, swollen to show what you're letting him do to you.

What he's taking from you and what he can fill you with.

You can't get a word past your lips and instead pull him down to you to kiss him hard on the lips.

You notice how your pussy clenches begging and you don't even have to ask him to finally fuck you again, because he rams himself into you again and you moan in sync.

Hoarsely you gasp his name and he thrusts even harder into you, "Do you actually know how beautiful you are when you moan my name. Just my name."

Towards the end his voice breaks and to stop him from speaking further you pull him to you again and murmur against his lips, "I want to moan just your name too." Before you kiss him hard and swallow his "Baby cum for me" and start pulsing breathlessly.

Firmly you pull at the curls in his neck and he mumbles "Fuck" before his thrusts become messy and uncontrolled.

Weakly you lie under him while he squints his eyes and takes what he needs.

At the same time you can't take your eyes off his beautiful face.

He's so tense that you place your shaky hands on his cheeks and sigh, "That's right, Rick. Take what's yours."

Still tightening around him every now and then, he buries his face in the hollow where your neck joins your shoulder.

The gesture is so vulnerable and intimate that you begin to stroke the back of his head and praise him softly.

You quickly realize that he's totally into it when you tell him how well he takes you and how much you want him.

With one last thrust, his body stiffens and he fucks you through his climax before he stays heavily on top of you, unable to continue to lean up over you.

You won't be able to leave him on top of you for long as he slowly takes your breath away and as you start to squirm a bit under him, he leans up a bit heavily to take his weight off of you, "Do you still hate me?"

Surprised by the question, you flinch, "What?"

His eyes slide over your face and can't believe you actually burst out laughing and poke him in the cheek, "I didn't mean it in a primitive way when I promised you I wouldn't let anyone else touch me."

Still looking down at you skeptically, you can't help but think it's extremely cute, "Rick, I've never hated you...I didn't meant it. Sometimes I could kick you in the balls and sometimes you just annoy me, but I don't hate you."

So slowly his eyes clear and you smile as wide as you can at him as you tease a little, "But if it makes you feel better, I'm happy to lie and say I hate you."

Uncertainly, he bites his lower lip and seems to search your face for something.

Briefly, you think he's decided against saying anything, when he says quietly, without taking his eyes off you, "It's a shame, because I love you."

@hail-yourselves @bean-is-reading @chanlvr2 @criminalwalkingsupernatural @sunshinevirus @toxic-ink @kingtwhiddleston @bloodycherry22 @vane28282 @bamslover @revesephemeres @emo-potato-virgil @tropodyn @mrsashleybarnes18-blog @igotbasicdrag @moonshine147

(If anyone else would like to be tagged, just let me know 💗)

#rick grimes #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes smut #twd #twd x reader #the walking dead #andrew lincoln #2023

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forjongseong · 1 year

Text

first mate // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: quartermaster!jay x firstmate!fem!reader

genre: pirates!au, smut (minors dni) // warning: profanity, mentions of death, unprotected sex // wc: ~2.3k

summary: After the passing of the Captain, you had to mourn in your own way. Your ship's Quartermaster, Jay, showed his concern for you, and it tugged your heart in a way that you never thought could happen.

author’s note: you didn't think that I would look at Jay's wet pictures and just leave them be, right? of course I had to make a fic out of it.

my immediate reaction was that the HALF concept pictures were perfect for my fic on my sfw acc, but then I figured I should just leave that fic alone and just write something new. so here it is!

no song inspiration either for this. just a little wordplay towards the end. hope you like it! and do let me know if you prefer longer fics like the archer and his queen, or shorter ones like this and free fall

taglist (please send an ask or DM if you want to be added or removed!) @end-hyphen @hee-pster @maggstar @shinkenprincess-oh @nyanggk @yoursjaeyun @thots4hee @bucketofhiros @dimplejaehyuncutie @mochimchimo @jongseonglogy @rosesbxrry @excusememissiloveyou

The light of the moon was reflected against the deep blue sea, providing enough for the ship’s crew to see everything that was taking place. The flames on the lit candles were fighting against the soft breeze of the night, and every time a candle was blown off, the Quartermaster stood up to light it again.

“You know that is not your job to do, mate,” Jake said, putting his jug of rum down beside him.

Jay shrugged. “I’m not gonna wait for any of you to do it.”

The other two boys snickered at each other before they continued playing their self-made board game, using peanut shells and actual shells as bets. Heeseung, while waiting for his turn, stretched his neck and spotted a figure leaning over the deck above the captain’s cabin.

“She’s staring at the water again,” Heeseung commented.

Sunghoon and Jake lifted their heads to take a good look before redirecting their focus to the board game. Jay merely sighed after the men resumed playing.

“It’s only been a week since her father’s death,” Jay replied. “She probably needs some time.”

“We do need to vote for a new captain, though,” Sunghoon chimed in. “Given that she has served as First Mate for our late captain for years, I think she’d be fit to lead.”

Jake eyed Jay wearily before looking at Sunghoon. “You really just said that in front of the Quartermaster.”

Jay scoffed and waved his hand. “I’m not looking for a promotion.”

Heeseung cleared his throat. “Well, I think you’d make a great captain too. Which is why we need to vote. The crew is divided at this moment.”

“Maybe you should have a talk with her,” Jake continued. “You know, since you are second in command.”

Jay took a last sip of his ale before wincing and nodding, gulping his drink down. “I’ll do it later.”

After a couple more games and half-drunken conversations, the three men returned to their cabins after helping Jay clean up. Jay then noticed that you were still standing in the same place, but this time closer to the edge. He decided to have the talk with you right then and there.

With light footsteps, he walked up the stairs. As he approached your figure, he called out for you.

“Miss Wood…”

His voice trailed off after he witnessed you jumping off the ship, leaving your shoes and your jacket behind. After the loud splash, Jay blinked twice and had his jaw hanging before he came to his senses. He rushed and peered over, squinting his eyes to look for you.

“Miss Wood!”

He waited for you to emerge out of the water. Five seconds. Ten seconds. Then he lost count and got restless, so he decided to jump after you. He had to adjust his sight to the darkness of the water and the saltwater burned his eyes, but he spotted your white nightgown and immediately swam to you, grabbing you by your waist before swimming upwards to the surface.

“Miss Wood!” Jay coughed, wiping his face with one hand to get a good look at you.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

You yanked Jay’s arm away from your body and steadily floated away from him. Jay looked at you in confusion.

“Miss, I know it’s hard, but there’s so much more to live for. Your crew needs you!”

“Shut up, you idiot! Stop yelling!” You angrily splashed water on Jay’s face before brushing your hair back. “You’re gonna wake up the crew.”

“I-I don’t understand,” Jay began to stutter.

“I just wanted to take a dive to clear my thoughts,” you explained.

“But you were under the water for so long…”

“It was barely a minute! You don’t think I can’t hold my breath for long? Seriously…”

The annoyance in your voice was starting to make Jay uneasy, so he let the water slowly drift him away from you. You looked up at the ship, looking around for your crew.

“I’ll go get someone,” Jay said. “Unless you still want to clear your thoughts?”

You squinted at Jay, and he swore he could hear you growl. He then made a loud whistle as he bit his lower lip, and within seconds, two men were already lowering ropes for you both. After they helped you up to the main deck, you quickly ordered them to go back to their chambers, but Jay felt so bad that he kept tailing you to the captain’s cabin.

“What do you want now, Jay?” You asked as you opened the door without even looking back, sensing his presence.

“I just wanted to make sure you returned to your cabin safely.”

You turned around and looked at Jay, then looked at the main deck which was literally not even fifty steps away. He then realized how stupid he sounded, so he just bowed for no reason before turning around and leaving you. You retreated to the captain’s cabin and began cleaning yourself up.

Moments later, you heard a knock on the door. You had no plans to sleep soon, so you decided to entertain whoever the buffoon was, bothering you so late in the night. When you opened the door, of course, you found Jay standing in front of you.

What you just noticed, though, was how good he looked with his face clean, his hair still half-wet and slicked back, and his sheer clothing that barely hid his chest and biceps.

While you were lost in your thoughts, Jay was thinking the exact same thing. He never noticed how beautiful you looked without all the garments necessary for a pirate. Your hair was let down, and the black nightgown that you changed into was also made of a similar sheer fabric that barely hid your curves. He even thought that the small scar along your right cheekbone was cute.

Cute? That was an adjective Jay never would have thought to use to describe you.

“Since you’re still awake,” Jay broke the silence. You blinked and redirected your gaze to his face. “I think I need to speak to you about our ship’s crew and their roles.”

You knew the conversation was going to take long, so without saying a word you stepped aside as you pulled the door open for Jay, letting him in. When he entered the cabin, he found that it was neat and clean, and it smelled like flowers and incense.

He wondered if that was how you smelled too.

“The crew was wondering when we will hold the vote, Miss Wood,” Jay began, shaking his head as he tried his best to focus.

“You can drop the honorifics,” you said. “It’s not like my father is still around.”

Jay hesitated for a while before he cleared his throat. “Right,” he licked his lips. “Y/N.”

You smirked to yourself as you cleared out the desk and had him sit across from you, and you did not know exactly how it happened, but you ended up having a lengthy and deep conversation with him. It started with him asking more personal questions regarding the captain, and as you answered him you began to open up and started asking him similar questions.

After a while, you reached for your pocket watch to check the time, and when you were putting it back your hand slipped. The pocket watch almost fell to the floor if you did not quickly reach for it out of reflex, but Jay did too, so now his hand was covering yours.

Again, you never noticed how thick his fingers were. Or how veiny his hands were. Or how soft his skin was.

“It’s getting late,” you sighed, pretending to be nonchalant. You stood up and the sleeve of your nightgown slipped off your shoulder. If you did not pull it back up quickly, Jay would have seen more of your chest.

Jay stood up after you and walked slowly behind you, obviously reluctant to leave the room. You sensed that he was dragging his feet, so when you held the door open you stepped only slightly aside to make way for him. While he was passing you, you did not know what came over you, but you reached for his arm and tugged his shirt.

“Jay,” you said, barely a whisper. You could not find the exact words to voice out what was in your head.

Luckily, Jay did not need words for him to understand you.

He reached for the door and pulled it away from you, carefully pushing you to the side just for him to close the door shut. He moved closer until you backed up against the door, and when you felt his hand on your waist your breath hitched.

Jay placed one hand over your head before he leaned in to kiss you, and the way your body reacted to his lips on yours was almost embarrassing. You almost melted to the wooden floor if he wasn’t holding you up, and you brought your hands up to his face to pull him closer.

You whimpered when you felt him place his leg between yours, making it impossible not to grind your crotch against his thigh. His hand that was on your waist slid downwards, bunching up the edge of your nightgown until his skin grazed yours. You continued to kiss him passionately, letting him take the lead as his tongue danced with yours, and once in a while, you would moan softly into his mouth to signal the pleasure that he was clearly giving you.

Jay lifted you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he carefully made his way to the center of the cabin. You pulled away from the kiss to look at the bed, and Jay understood immediately. After laying you down on the bed, you quickly pulled your nightgown down to reveal your breasts, and Jay chuckled at your enthusiasm, taking his time as he took off his top and his pants.

As he stood naked in front of you, you did not even realize that you were biting your lip. Your eyes were focused on his crotch, and to save you from the embarrassment of staring too long, he began hovering over you and covering your face with kisses.

“You need to take this off completely so we can be even,” he whispered into your ear.

The tip of your fingers grazed the back of his neck as you leaned in to answer him. “Then you pull it off.”

Jay nestled his face in the crook of your neck and began kissing you there, gradually getting more aggressive until he was sucking and biting your skin. He tugged your nightgown down to your knees and you kicked them away. Immediately after, you spread your legs and pulled his body closer, and you felt the tip of his cock come in contact with your wet slit.

“Fuck,” you breathed, your hands resting on Jay’s shoulders.

“I’ve barely touched you,” Jay snickered.

You let one of your hands travel downwards, grabbing his shaft. He groaned loudly and almost collapsed on top of you, and you giggled at the sudden change of his demeanor.

“Enough teasing,” you purred, stroking his length. “Let’s just fuck.”

You aligned his cock with your entrance, coating the tip with your arousal. Jay’s biceps flexed as he tried to contain his reactions, but when he entered you, you could hear his shaky breath beside your ear. You moaned in pleasure as he bottomed out, bringing your hands back up to his shoulders. You lightly tapped him, and he began grinding his hips at a pace that was not too slow but not exactly fast either. You found it intriguing since you always viewed him as someone rough, but he held you with so much care that you had no choice but to melt in his touch.

With every stroke he made, your body moved with him. Your skin shivered wherever he touched you, and whenever he kissed you, it felt like you were wrapped in a type of warmth you had never felt before. The sounds that left your lips were like music to his ears, and as he increased his speed his hand grasped your thigh, holding your leg in place. You could almost see yourself reaching your high, but he rendered you speechless, and all you could do was frantically scratch his back with every thrust.

Eventually, your hands found their way back to his face and you pulled him into a kiss once you climaxed, softly moaning into his mouth. His thrusts slowed down, but once you stopped whimpering, he began speeding up again. Your eyes began to water from the overstimulation, but after a couple more strokes he pulled out and spilled his seed over your stomach.

Jay collapsed beside you, brushing his hair back with his fingers and wiping the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. You looked at him as he panted, catching his own breath. Once he did, he looked at you and you smiled.

“Not bad,” you commented, hovering over him and straddling him for one second to leave a quick peck on his lips. He reciprocated your kiss and spanked your ass before you hopped off and walked away to retrieve your nightgown.

“So, if the crew end up voting me as the new captain,” you said as you got dressed, “does that mean I get to choose a new first mate?”

Jay shrugged, still lying down on your bed in all his naked glory. “If they choose me, will you still be my first mate?”

You looked at each other in question for a couple of seconds before Jay started laughing. You rolled your eyes and walked away to grab yourself a drink, trying to ignore the fact that what you did tonight with Jay had completely changed the meaning of the words ‘first mate’.

-END-

!!! do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work to any other platform.

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aeaean--bliss · 2 years

Text

maybe

summary: you and Tangerine haven't spoken in almost a year. now you've been ditched, and he's picking you up.

pairing: tangerine x reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings/tags: a tense ass car ride. swearing, tension, arguing, excessive rudeness, pining

masterlist

a/n: this was not the fic i intended to write or finish or upload:))) but here it is

He’ll be up. He owes you one, anyway. And it’s not like he sleeps.

Plus, it’s you.

You did think it would take him longer to get here, though. It’s not like he lives nearby. Hasn’t even been ten minutes since the three dots popped up on your screen, followed immediately by the “omw” that your eyes have been glued to ever since.

You should have just walked home. Bit the bullet, and walked the hour and a half trek back to yours. But it’s getting dark, you’ve barely slept, and your ankles are already starting to ache, just from the five minute walk down the block and back again.

He doesn’t get out when he pulls up; doesn’t even roll down the window or turn his head to look in your direction. Just leans back, one hand on the wheel, one elbow resting against the car window. The chain hanging off his wrist gleams in the light of a streetlight a couple of metres away. It’s one of the only things you can focus your eyes on as you stalk towards the car.

The slam of the car door rings in the night. The car is dead silent; no radio on, no phone call over bluetooth, no nothing. It’s never been this quiet.

The engine purrs gently. It’s strange. He’s sat right next to you, but he might as well be on the other side of the world. He hasn’t even asked for your address.

“The fuck you doin’ out here?”

His voice sounds strange. Maybe it’s the silence. Makes it sound almost distorted. Maybe it’s ‘cause you haven’t heard his actual voice in months. Maybe you forgot what it sounds like. Maybe it’s the hint of concern in his voice.

No - that can’t be right. This is the same guy who told you to “walk it off” when you got your femur shattered by some dickhead with a golf club.

“Just some guy,” you mumble. If there was one place you didn’t want to get ditched, it was here. Your phone’s nearly dead, and you don’t really know your way back to the main road. But he can’t possibly know that. Right? All you sent him was your location.

“Boyfriend?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Jesus, darlin’, no need to bite my head off.”

Maybe you’ve come in a bit too amped. Nevermind the fact that the last time you saw him, he blew your cover to help his own; he’s come to pick you up out in the middle of nowhere at eleven p.m., no complaints, and he’s not said anything out of order yet. You’ve come to think Tan’s the type of guy you gotta judge on an encounter by encounter basis. Maybe you shouldn’t, but it makes it easier.

“Not anymore, I guess.”

He grunts - there’s no other word for it - and brings a hand up to smooth down his moustache.

“Forgive me, darlin’, but you don’t sound very upset.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly flowing over with love for the guy.”

“You really know how to fuckin’ pick ‘em, don’t ya,” he mutters. You glare.

You’d think after having known him for - what, six, seven years? - you’d be used to his bite by now. Maybe it’s just tonight. You’re in a weird mood. If he calls you sensitive, you might actually start to cry.

“Probably better off then, ain’t ya, if he’s left ya to hang about outside by yourself an’ all.”

He must have clocked that you’re a bit off tonight. It comes out as an afterthought, barely audible above the soft purr of the engine.

“What you goin’ out with a prick like that for, anyway?”

“S’not like anyone else wants me.”

Everything gets heavy, then. In your peripheral vision, you try not to notice the way his knuckles tighten around the wheel, or the way his jaw tenses just the slightest bit. He doesn’t respond. You didn’t think he would. You’re in a torturing mood. Just want to poke and prod at the wound for a bit and see what happens. Because he says you know how to pick ‘em, but won’t let you pick him. Even if you both know he wants to be picked.

After about ten minutes of ear deafening silence, he clears his throat quietly.

“Still workin’ down the bank?”

You hum, non-committedly. You can’t tell if you’re happy or sad that he’s stopped pushing for more on this other guy. Odds are, he’d be in the papers tomorrow for all the wrong reasons. You’ve got goosebumps from the cold. They itch a bit. Maybe waiting outside wasn’t the best idea, but it’s better than hanging around inside like some loner. Maybe you were just eager to see him.

You see him less now that you’ve gone civilian. Five bullet wounds and a back injury will do that to a person. It’s been around seven months since you last had anything to do with him. Seven months since you quit. The last message from him on your phone is from nine months ago. It says, “give me back my tie.” You didn’t respond.

More than anything, you’re tired. And bored.

You never told him you worked at a bank.

“Might get back into liquidation. Lemon says he knows a guy.”

It’s a lie. You don’t want to get back in, and Lemon wouldn’t help you even if you did. Doesn’t mean you don’t hate your life the way it is right now.

“Nah, you wouldn’t survive out there, darlin’,” he mutters, little finger flicking up to switch on the indicators. “Times have changed. Good thing like you? They’d tear ya apart, I mean, look at ya.”

You can’t tell if he means it. Can’t tell if it means something. It hurts more than you think it does. It’s also kinda backhanded, even if it is a lie.

Flecks of rain have begun to spatter the windshield, their outlines illuminated by each passing streetlight. You’re seething. The type of thing where you can literally smell it off someone. You want him to mean it. But he probably doesn’t. And even if he does, he’s not gonna do anything about it.

“D’you even know where you’re going? You don’t have an address.”

“You think I don’t know where you live? Give me some credit.”

You never gave him your address.

“I’m not going to mine.”

He frowns, then, lips twitching like he wants to say something, like he’s getting ready to speak but hasn’t decided on the words yet. You can almost hear the sound of him blinking, like a cartoon. He looks kinda funny when he’s frustrated, like a muppet with a big, bushy moustache.

The hand comes out to gesture a “what the fuck” before he even speaks, almost in slow motion, like the thought is loading.

“Well, why the fuck didn’t you say somethin’ before I-”

“You didn’t fuckin’ ask, mate,” you groan, “Literally didn’t even fuckin’ say anything until-”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know where the fuck-”

“I didn’t ask you to know, I was gonna fuckin’ tell you.”

“Takin’ your sweet fuckin’ time, ain’t ya!”

“Would you relax, it’s not like you’ve gone the wrong way, I would have-”

“You know,” he cuts in, pointing his index finger accusatorily at you, “you’re a lot easier to deal with when you shut the fuck up.”

You shove his hand away. He’s not making sense.

“Fuck you.”

Green becomes amber becomes red light, shining through the watery sheen of the windshield and hitting his skin like a coloured lens. Without the grumble of the engine, you can almost hear him breathe. It grounds you. Reminds you he’s a real human being. Sometimes he’s such a caricature that you forget.

When he speaks next, his voice is uncharacteristically light, and void of aggression.

“Thinkin’ of gettin’ a new suit.”

It’s so dumb. It’s so. dumb. And no one cares. But it’s his attempt at normalcy, and it’s a hell of an olive branch, even if it does give you whiplash. You don’t even know what to say to that. What are you supposed to say to that?

Go get one, then. You don’t want to pick another fight. You’ve already got steam coming out of your ears from the last one. But it’s not like he’s broke, or doesn’t know where to get one. He’s trying, he’s really trying to make conversation, so you voice - quietly - the only thought that comes to mind.

“I like your blue one. Not the… the dark blue one.”

“Not the dark blue one?”

“No, I mean, the dark blue one.”

And then, completely out of character, in a moment of absolute weakness;

“I’m going to Italy next week for a conference. Maybe you could… come with? Maybe get something…”

“Yeah, well, I ain’t got the time for that, do I.”

Shot down.

“Fine. Forget I said anything.”

He inhales deeply, like he’s either about to explode or implode. To your relief, he exhales slowly, a hand coming up to scratch at his stubble.

“Where you goin’, anyway?”

“A friend’s,” you mutter, pulling at the hems of your sleeves.

“Yeah, but where’d they live? I gotta drop you somewhere, right?”

“Just… The Square is fine.”

“No chance. Are you fuckin’ dense?”

“Jesus Christ, fine,” you huff, grabbing his phone from the cup holder so you can plug in the address. But it’s fucking locked. You don’t know why you thought it wouldn’t be. You click the power button a couple of times before shoving it into his lap. “Unlock it, then. Jesus.”

He mutters something you can’t hear, and tosses it back in your general direction. It almost ricochets off the arm rest.

The audio assistant on google maps pipes up every thirty seconds. Other than that, it’s quiet. He’s always so unnecessarily tense. It gets to you. All you do is argue. But it’s not like you hate each other. Is it? If he did, he wouldn’t have come to pick you up. If you did, you wouldn’t have asked him.

The car slows to a halt. He lets out a long, loud sigh, and drums his fingers against the wheel. Then he stops, and turns to look at you for the first time since you got in.

“For what it’s worth, I really am sorry, darlin’.”

“Thanks for the lift.”

You’ve dipped before he can get another word out. It smells like rain on tarmac, like sweat and humidity, like headache and sleep. Just before you slam the door shut, he leans over the passenger seat.

“Wait, wait.”

You jerk forward and pull the door back open mid-swing. You glare.

“What.”

“If you ever need somewhere to go, I’ve, uh… I’ve got a nice flat. Just up…”

You almost want to let yourself fall for it. Just for fun. His eyes are so serious it almost makes you laugh. You’ve never known him to be serious about anything. But you can’t stop the belittling scoff that leaves your lips before it’s too late.

You miss the way his eyes stay on you as you head up the steps and hit the buzzer. He stays parked outside for a good while after you’ve got in.

Maybe one day he’ll get up and walk after you.

Maybe.

#tangerine x reader #tangerine x y/n #tangerine x you #tangerine fan fiction #bullet train #tangerine #bullet train fan fiction #maybe #aeaean bliss

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cozy-mp3 · 2 years

Text

over and out

ellie x female!reader

being assigned night patrol sucks, ellie agrees

word count: 1.2k(ish)

warnings: sfw, probably an inaccurate depiction of how walkie talkies work, ellie calls reader honey because i'm predictable, men dni please and ty :)

a/n: tysm for 200 followers!!! i'm gonna open my requests up again soon as a thank you! this is my 'trying to grasp how to write ellie again' fic in between writing other stuff which is why it's short. also, i honestly do not know if this scenario is logistically possible but it is what it is.

you hate night watch at the best of times. it’s almost mind numbingly boring and since there’s so little to report you often find yourself alone until whoever is taking over your post for the first day shift arrives in the morning. it’s particularly bad in the winter due to the cold, the past few days had brought snow and you can feel it chilling your toes even though you’d tugged several pairs of socks on before you’d left home.

the sound of the radio crackling to life makes you jump after such a long stretch of silence, not even the sound of people stumbling out of the tipsy bison had interrupted the quiet this late at night, it’d been balanced in your lap beside your rifle which you decide to set on the ground beside you before you startle again and accidentally blow your foot off.

“this is williams to honey,” ellie says, her voice distorted over the radio but still warm and familiar, “this better be you, i’ve been hopping frequencies for the past fifteen minutes, maria’s gonna kill me when she finds out,” she adds and you can practically see her rolling her eyes, though you’re sure she won’t have the same bravado once maria’s done with her.

“how did you get hold of a radio?,” you ask in response, you should probably be frustrated with her, the radios are strictly for patrolling the walls and communicating potential danger and she’s absolutely going to get in trouble, but you can’t help but let a smile stretch across your lips at the sound of her voice.

“jesse owed me a favor,” she explains, only sounding a little sheepish about it, “i can’t sleep without you, this is totally necessary if they want me on patrol tomorrow,” she insists and really, it’s impossible to be mad when you feel the same way, even if it’s the kind of argument that maria will complain is making her go gray. you can imagine her tucked into bed, the duvet pulled beneath her chin and her cheek pressed into her pillow, the soft light of the lamp on the bedside table casting a warm yellow glow over her skin.

“i miss sleeping with you, too,” you sigh, it must come out crackly because ellie makes a frustrated sound and the radio beeps meaning the settings are being fiddled with, “don’t bother messing with it, el,” you hum and you’re pretty sure that comes out distorted by static too, but ellie seems resigned to it and doesn’t attempt to fix it again, instead producing shuffling sounds like she’s repositioning in bed.

“how much longer are you assigned nights?,” she asks and it’s a testament to how well you know her that you can imagine her face, her brows tugged together in a frown that wrinkles her forehead and her lips tugged downwards, you wish you were there to smooth the creases from her face and kiss away her pout, but you’re stuck in what you’re beginning to believe is the most uncomfortable lawn chair left in the world watching for infected that stumble too close to the walls, so none of that is possible.

“three more days, then i’ve got mornings for a month,” you tell her with an unhappy exhale that she mirrors, you could probably get your shifts changed if you kicked up enough of a fuss but it doesn’t feel right when you know everyone else hates the job as much as you, no one is particularly willing to switch to nights in summer, let alone now when it’s sub zero.

“this is, like, top five worst things that have ever happened to me,” ellie grumbles, her voice is even more muffled and you can imagine how she’s turned her face into her pillow to hide her frustrated face, “and don’t correct me on that, honey, i’m being serious,” she sighs and you wish you were there to tug her into your chest and stroke your hands through her hair because she sounds tired, exhausted even, and it’s almost torture to know there isn’t anything you can do to soothe her to sleep.

“you wanna talk until you fall asleep?,” you ask as gently as you can, hoping that your change in tone is noticeable over the radio, your toes are so cold you’re beginning to think they’re going to fall off before you’re able to get home and practice your current ritual of sticking them between ellie’s calves to steal her warmth for the hour or so you’re in bed together before she has to get up for patrol.

“please,” she responds, her tone matching yours all syrupy sweet and rough with sleep in a way that makes your stomach warm, “i’m hugging your pillow,” she admits quietly, “smells like you,” she adds and you don’t know if you want to beam or cry because there’s almost nothing you wouldn’t do to be there with her where it’s warm and safe and your girl is there to hold you instead.

“i’ll be back soon,” you say before you can say something embarrassing, like that you’ve been missing her every second you’ve been apart or that just tonight you’ve caught yourself daydreaming about her so many times you’d stopped counting, “only a couple more hours,” you murmur, glancing down at your watch to check again. ellie had gotten you new batteries for it the last time she’d been on a supply run and having it functional again was useful despite it giving you the ability to agonize over how slowly each minute of your watch seems to pass.

“i’ll stay up,” ellie replies with a firm edge to her voice that you know better than to argue with, though she yawns soon afterwards and you’re almost certain that she’ll be asleep when you arrive home. it’s not a problem though, it’s just as nice to curl up behind her when she’s sleeping as it is for her to tug you against her chest and rub your back until you fall asleep together.

“i love you,” you tell her, having to stifle your responding yawn against your palm.

“i love you too, honey,” she says and you can hear the smile in her voice, “make sure you’re safe walking home, ok? it’ll still be dark when they switch over,” she hums, her voice sounding a little closer, like she’s tucked the radio beside her in bed.

“i’ll be safe, els,” you reassure her and you will, because you know she worries and you don’t want to give her cause to worry more, “now, what do you want to talk about?,” you ask, tucking your chin into the warmth of your coat and pulling your rifle back into your lap as you settle in for the last stretch of your watch.

ellie’s already started talking about the deer she saw on patrol and the fancy charcoal pencils joel had gotten her from a trader. you wiggle your toes just to make sure they’re still there just as she begins to complain about how they’ve served broccoli for dinner for almost a week straight, which is bullshit because she’s seen carrots in the pantry with her own eyes and you hope selfishly that she doesn’t fall asleep too soon because the time passes so much faster when she’s there.

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #tlou2 x reader

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twisted-wonderland-shenanigans · 1 year

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Twisted Wonderland Monster!AU Snippet: "A New Life"

So since the writing process for the pregnant fem!Yuu is taking a little longer than I'd like (I've got so many ideas on types of interactions before and after the baby is born, but as I said in another post, it's tricky figuring out which character to have in said situation 😂), I thought I'd share a snippet of what I have so far so you guys can see!

It might end up being a little (lot) longer than I anticipated depending on how much I want to add, so thank you for your patience everyone!

Note for context: Fem!Yuu is about five (5) months along in the beginning before she arrived in Twisted Wonderland, which means we get to explore the monster boys being curious (if a bit tsun-tsun) about the future baby. Grim is also acting like those pictures and videos of cats who snuggle their pregnant owner's belly, but he doesn't even know why he's doing it and no one else has any idea what's going on either. 😂

ALSO, IF I NEED TO TAG THIS ANY SPECIFIC WAY, PLEASE LET ME KNOW SO I CAN ADD THE TAGS FOR THIS AND WHEN THE FIC IS READY TO BE POSTED!!!!

///----------///

“…hm?” Grim uttered, quickly pulling away to stare at Yuu’s middle with wide eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked.

Grim said nothing for a moment, his expression focused as he pressed his cheek and ear against her belly again. Just as it had earlier, Yuu felt movement inside—movement that startled Grim as he jumped away with a yelp. “Fygah!? What was that?!” he asked, fur bristling and wings flaring defensively.

“Wait, what happened?” Deuce asked.

“I felt somethin’ move!” Grim told them, looking thoroughly spooked now.

“What?! Does the human have a parasite inside?!” Sebek said, Yuu wincing as the volume caught the attention of the students around them.

“Don’t be silly. Internal parasites can't be felt so clearly outside the body,” Riddle commented, holding his tray of food as he sat down at a nearby table.

Realizing that things would get out of hand if she didn’t stop it, Yuu reached out to pull Grim into her arms and said, “He’s not wrong, guys. Grim did feel something move.”

That seemed to get everyone’s attention as they stared at her in confusion. “He…felt something?” Deuce repeated. “What do you mean?”

“Well…let’s just say that—technically speaking—I wasn’t the only human that came to Twisted Wonderland.”

“EH?!?” came the literal chorus of voices as the teenagers stared at her.

“Wait, you mean there’s another human somewhere?!” Cater asked, his phone already up and ready to start typing. “Where are they? Do humans turn invisible? What’s their name??”

“No, humans don’t turn invisible. As for where they are…you’ll have to guess that. And for their name…well, they don’t have one yet.”

“Eh? How come they don’t have a name?” Epel asked. “And…if there’s another human here, why weren’t they at the ceremony?”

“Oh, they were there,” she told them, unable to help the smile on her face. “In fact, everyone was looking at them the whole time.”

“I didn’t see them at all!” Grim protested, paws reaching up to grip her face. “Tell me where they are!”

“Grim, you’ve probably been the closest one to them for the past month now,” she told him, laughing as she booped his nose. “At this rate, I’ll be having trouble carrying you and them around.”

“Huh? What does that even mean?” he asked, looking at the others as they shrugged.

“Fufufufu…oh my. It would seem my suspicions were correct!” a familiar deep voice behind them said.

“Fygah!! Where’d you come from?!”

Despite the surprise appearance, Yuu’s smile was still as wide as Lilia’s as the lantern bat hung upside down beside her. “My apologies, I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation,” he said before tilting his head to peer at Yuu. “I believe congratulations are in order, my dear. When are you due?”

“In about three and a half months,” she told him, placing her hand on her stomach as the baby moved again.

“Oh! Well, it seems like we’ll all be hearing the pitter-patter of tiny human feet around the school. How lovely~! Is this your first?”

Nodding, she said, “Yeah. I’m a little nervous since there’s been so much going on, and things have been a little…stressful.”

“Ah yes, I can understand that,” he replied, giving the others a sly smile. “After all, I’ve heard that stress isn’t good for expecting mothers and their unborn baby.”

“B-b…b…BABY?!”

“Ah, there it is,” Lilia said with a chortle. “I was wondering how long it would take.”

“I was just thinking of how to give them a bigger hint,” Yuu said with a giggle.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!” Ace stammered, eyes wide as saucers. “You mean…Yuu is pregnant?!”

“Mm-hm. You hit the nail on the head!”

“EEEEEEEEEEEEH!?!”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland monster au #twst monster au #fem!yuu

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anthropologyruinseverything · 2 months

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New fic series! WWE Mafia AU

Welcome to what is essentially my dark romance, junk food series. I want to practice writing in the genre so here we go! Plz see CW warnings. There are 3 fulls stories and a 1 shot planned, I will be writing stories and one-shots as part of this universe as time goes on. As of right now Jey, Damian, Roman and Tama are in the works but I’d like to expound so hit me with recs!

(They may take time to write)

Now on with it.

18+ only from here plz - minors dni

Sea & Moon

Jey Uso x IndigenousFMC

Summary: Nokomis “Kiki” Levy was a normal twenty year old college student whose biggest concerns were passing chemistry and what graduate programs would want to see on an application.

Joshua “Jey” Fatu is thirty-one and has recently been appointed heir apparent of his father’s branch of their families shadowy enterprise and needs to prove himself up to the task.

Their worlds collide when Kiki’s father, a detective with SFPD, gets too close to Jey’s family business. While they start as enemies there is an undeniable burn between them. Will a much larger threat be their end or give them a chance to thrive together?

🚨It’ll be a dark journey for the Levy girls, please heed content warnings that include mild n0n-con between main characters, dubious consent, violence, mentions of difficult topics such as substance abuse, mental health issues and more. There will be various k!nks such as prim@l play, masks, captiv!ty, 🔪 play, ch0king, and more. The boys are morally grey to black but love and obsess over their ladies.

There is an HEA for everyone! I probably won’t post more than the prologues and one shots here on Tumblr and leave the really dark stuff on AO3. I will post links though and just drop a comment if you’d like to be tagged in any further updates.

## Prologue

**Nokomis “Kiki” POV**

⭐️*character note, Kiki has vitiligo which affects her face over her right eye, her hands and other other areas.

It was just supposed to be another regular movie night at home with my sister and cousin, nothing unusual or life altering. The same sort of thing we did almost every Saturday night since we could remember. I didn’t think twice when my folks decided on a last minute date night while we three girls piled onto the couch for comedies and popcorn, waving them off as if I’d see them in a few hours.

I wished I’d hugged them tighter and longer. As if that would have somehow stopped what happened next.

Not long after my parents had left my dad’s retired K9 partner Atlas started going insane, running back and forth to the back door and barking. I assumed he was interested in a rabbit or some other critter like a possum in the backyard so I hushed him and sent him to his crate for acting so crazy. In the long run I’d probably saved his life but I had still wished for his protection with what came next.

We never heard the back door locks being picked or footsteps in the kitchen. Between the movie, our laughter and the occasional dog bark nothing else penetrated our space and like most college students on a Saturday night our minds weren’t on the dangers lurking in the shadows. We didn’t know anything was wrong until Kai went to the kitchen for drinks and her scream alerted Kiri and me to our unwelcome visitors.

I’d never felt so stupid and slow as I did when the large men in masks appeared in the doorway, one with a particularly vicious face mask, long black hair and icy gray eyes held a long knife to Kai’s throat, clutching her tightly to his front with his other arm. Every time I ever swore to myself and my parents I would fight back went out the window when I realized it might actually cost my cousin her life. Instead I reached for Kiri’s hand as we stood frozen to the spot. Her light brown eyes were blown wide in fear and her normally tan face had gone ashen.

Everyone was quiet except for Atlas’s enraged barking.

The shortest man was still at least six feet tall and he wore a black mask with red spiral designs that covered his lower face. Withdrawing a gun from a shoulder holster he indicated the elderly german shepherd. “Shut it the fuck up.”

Instinctively Kieran and I both moved to stand between him and Atlas, her fingers digging into my hand tighter than ever before while her other came up in a placating gesture as I spoke. “Please don’t hurt him, he’s old and scared.” She turned to me with frightened eyes and indicated I should comfort him with a jerk of her chin. Dropping I tried to soothe him and at least got him to quiet down to a whimper.

The next thing I became aware of nearly made me lose control of my bladder. A harsh, cold metal gun barrel was pressed to the back of my head as Kiri’s hand was wrenched from mine.

“You girls gonna behave?”

I swallowed past the thick lump in my throat and nodded, hating that every inch of me was paralyzed. What happened to being an officer’s daughter who could stand her ground? All I could think about was that knife pressed to Kai, that gun leveled at the back of my head or at Atlas. If I didn’t behave they could be hurt or I could be killed. I risked glancing up at Kieran who was so still and quiet, being held by the largest of the three. His purple and black mask was monstrous like the tattoos on his exposed arms.

“Stand up slowly. Where’re your parents?” Out of habit when someone stared at me intensely I let my hair fall forward over my face even as I did what he said. His dark brown eyes looked black in the dim light of the living and the comedy kept playing in the background offering a ridiculous soundtrack to such a grave moment. Everything felt surreal in the flashing lights.

“N-not home.” My voice shook even as I tried to sound calm. “Our dad, he’s a cop, he’ll be back soon.” As if supplying that information would make him think twice.

The tall one chuckled, responding in a deep voice that fit his intimidating stature. “We know mija. He’s why we’re here.”

Kai’s whimper brought my attention back to her and the man holding her. He was far too interested in running his knife down her chest. “Hey! Stop it!”

Kai was two years younger than us and as such we’d always been protective of her. I realized what I’d done when those cold gray eyes flashed to me.

The man with black eyes didn’t hesitate, stepping in uncomfortably close to put the barrel under my chin. “Behave.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.” Survival mode engaged apparently. I realized we were truly fucked when he tugged his mask down to reveal an equally black beard but handsome face. “Leave a note D. We’re taking them and their old man can turn himself in when *we’re* ready.”

The last thing I remembered for a while was Kai crying out and a sharp prick in my neck before everything went black.

———

**Joshua “Jey” POV **

Catching the purple haired girl as she fell I moved to set her on the couch with the other two so they could be tied up. We’d come looking for Detective Levy and we were leaving with his twin daughters and their cousin. Not the worst all things considered but still not my plan and I didn’t like it when things didn’t go according to plan.

“You said he’d be here tonight D.”

Damian tugged his mask off with a shrug, accepting the roll of duct tape Roman had retrieved from his bag. He passed me one as well and we went to work taping the girls wrists, ankles and mouths.

“I’ll talk to J.D.” Unlike our family Damian ran a crew of people he’d collected with no ties aside from shared interests. It made them difficult to trust and easy to be angry with as far as I was concerned. I owed Damian my life, not them.

“Do that. Let’s get the fuck outta here.

Roman, you can mess with her later.” He was preoccupied with the pretty little woman he’d pounced on in the kitchen, running his hands up her thighs over her pajama pants. Instead of answering he just rolled those alarming eyes of his and threw her over his shoulder. I took a second to really assess the young woman in front of me. Her name was Nokomis, one of the detectives two daughters. College student majoring in biology and member of the chess club. Of course. What I hadn’t known about was her vitiligo and I found myself more interested than I should have been in the beautiful patterns on her skin. A particular blaze over her right eye was especially striking.

Shaking the thoughts loose I followed his example and so did Damian with his new charge. Our SUV was parked in the alley behind the house and it had been easy enough to blow out the lone street light a few days prior. We put our two in the third row while Roman climbed in the center with his prize. I felt a twinge of pity for her. Capturing his interest so intently was not an enviable thing for anyone.

I waited until Damian was pulling the car onto the street to speak. “Obviously this changes things.”

“No mierda Jey.” Damian’s irritation was obvious. He knew I hated it when jobs went wrong and I knew it irritated him as well. Not to mention bad intelligence was always followed by a period of mistrust and I knew J.D. was already on thin ice as it was. “You were serious about holding them?”

I looked back at the middle row to find my cousin petting the woman in his lap even as she seemed to struggle against him. It would have been funny if I didn’t know him. “Yeah. Can have some fun but don’t kill ‘em.” I looked pointedly at Roman.

“I don’t kill women Jey. Just…like to play rough.”

“Yeah with professionals, not college kids.”

“You sure that’s a good idea? She saw your face cabrón.” Damian cut in. He had a good point but I wasn’t worried. If I hadn’t thought through this possibility I may have been more stressed about the decision.

“Nah, when they see what we do to their old man they’ll be too scared to say shit and we’ve paid off or killed anyone else who could do shit about it anyway.”

He flexed his broad shoulders and stole a glance in the rear view as the other girls were coming to and shifting around in the far back seat. I wasn’t blind or dumb and while he wasn’t as obvious as Roman I could see he was interested in the little one he’d held onto.

“Could let off some steam.”

I smirked. It wouldn’t be hard to seduce them, a few drinks and some promises and they’d be pliant like most other females I dealt with on the regular. I’d be lying if said I wasn’t intrigued by the girl who stared at me in the rear view, her light brown eyes looking golden in passing streetlights. I could see the defiance in them.

Good. Maybe having to wait a few more days to end the cop who got too close and couldn’t be bought wouldn’t be so bad. Not with some pretty company.

#jey uso fanfiction #wwe #the bloodline #fanfiction #jey uso #writing #ao3 writer #damian priest #roman reigns fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #jey uso x oc

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tsukkismoonlight · 9 months

Text

When It Comes To You || J.K × Reader

Summary: You've somehow gotten stuck with the most obnoxious (Minus boy genius Armin Arlert) group ever for a college class project. Eren Jeager, and Jean Kirstein. The latter of which seems to find a way to weasel his way into your life, making your plans for a quiet college experience fall away.

Author's Note: okay, like a year and some odd change in months later i'm finally posting this fic!! Honestly life kinda got in the way but we all know how it is. Anywayyyys, I hope yall enjoy! This is my first longer fic, so let me know what you guys think! Also super big shoutout to my buddies on discord for beta reading the first portion of this! <3 wk: 16.7k

Warnings: unedited, probably ooc characteristics who knows

"Would you two knock it off?" were your first words since the two bone-headed, annoying, loud-mouthed boys had started arguing.

Here you were, in an empty classroom, supposed to be working on a group project for at least an hour or two, and the /only/ thing that your group had done was bicker back and forth.

The first of the two boneheads, Eren Jeager, had spent the whole time insisting on his ideas, and his ideas alone, while the other, Jean Kirstein, had only been arguing that the former's ideas were stupid and that 'if anything, Eren should shut his trap and just do the grunt work.'

The blonde, Armin Arlert, was clearly just as done with them, but took a more quiet approach to trying to stop them. Any time he could interject, he tried to reason with the two, but of course neither would listen.

So, when you stood up, slamming your palms onto the table and shouting at them, all three of them quickly grew quiet. "We only have so much time to work on this project, and I am /not/ going to fail this project because you two idiots can't let go of your egos for more than two seconds!"

"Well, maybe if this asshole would-" Eren started, mostly keeping his voice at a low grumble, sounding like a scolded child.

Jean, cutting Eren's words short while crossing his arms across his chest, "Oh yeah, /I'm/ the asshole here…"

But with another of your glares sent to both of them, the two stopped once more.

"Maybe we should split up the work?" Armin was already writing out two plans, where you could make out his name and Eren, meaning that you were stuck with Jean.

Not that you wanted to be with either of them. You'd rather take Armin and just leave the other two to fail. But, as this was a group project, Professor Hange had made it clear that points were to be docked for any group that did not complete the assignment together.

You plopped back into your seat, sighing heavily. "Okay, we will work in two groups. Looks like Eren, you're going with Armin, and Jean, you're with me." You paused as Armin slid over the paper he had drafted up.

Glancing over it, you could see that he had given you and Jean a good amount of work, yet he had still given himself more. Part of you wanted to point it out, maybe even offer to take some of the load, but the other part of you knew that Armin would refuse and somehow make it sound like the nicest thing he'd ever do.

"Okay, so, from there, once all the research is done, Armin and I will meet up in person to work on the presentation bits, which means that Eren and Jean, you will only need to put your findings in a document for us. That should be easy enough."

When no one objected, you started to pack up your things.You waited for Jean to take a picture of the draft before tucking it away in a folder carefully.

Around you, the others started to do the same. With a small breath of relief, you finished packing up and slung your bag over your shoulders, looking to each of your groupmates slowly. "If anyone has questions,” you announced, “please text me. I gave Armin my number already, but if you need mine, ask now."

Eren slid his phone across the table to you, a sour look on his face, as he was clearly upset with the whole situation, and the fact that he had been yelled at over it. You ignored his attitude and typed in your number before returning the phone to him.

Next was Jean, who looked at you for a few moments, then handed his phone over to you, where you repeated the process of saving your number for him.

With that done you set off to your dorm.You didn't live alone, but it was bound to be a wonderful change in pace (and in volume levels). When you arrived, you slipped your shoes off and headed for your room, pausing for a second as you saw one of your roommate and probably your closest friend Sasha Braus. Currently she was sitting on the floor of her room, clutching a bowl of soup…or what was probably a bowl of soup, as it was empty now.

"Oh, hey! You're back already?" she asked, turning to you with a spoon dangling from her mouth. It caused a slight slur in her words, so it came out more like, "Ohhh, heyyy, yer bick alreaty?"

With a sigh, you walked into her room, dropping your bag by the door before flopping onto her bed (which was incredibly comfortable). "Yeah, I called it quits early because I got paired with Armin, Jean, and Eren, and Armin is fine and all, but your stupid friend and Eren can't go more than five seconds without fighting."

You could hear a soft clink as Sasha put her spoon down. "Well, it always works for me to hit them."

"I can't hit my group mates…even if I want to," you grumbled, rolling over onto your side so you could see her.

"I can hit them for you then, just tell me when and where." She flexed her arms, raising her eyebrows up and down at you as she did so.

This caused a breathy laugh to come from you. You could feel yourself starting to relax. Your two roommates were probably the only reason that you had stayed sane so far.

Sasha was always good at getting you to smile, at times she wouldn't stop until you showed some sign of positivity. And of course you were more than grateful for it.

When you had first moved to the dorms, you had kept to yourself, unsure if you really liked her at all. But with time, you warmed up to her easily.

There had been a handful of nights where she would invite you to stay up and just talk, or watch some movie. And, at times, she would share food with you, which you learned wasn't always her favorite thing to do.

"Hey, one of these days we need to catch up on Food wars."

You looked back to her, nodding along, "Oh for sure! Maybe sometime this next week I can stay up with you and we can watch it. Maybe buy some junk food too."

At the prospect of snacks, she perked up even more. "Can we get-"

"Yes, we can get the baked potato flavored chips."

"You didn't even let me finish!" Sasha pouted a little, though still unable to hide her excitement at the confirmation of her favorite snack.

You reached down and flicked her forehead lightly, "Well I already knew what you were going to say. It wasn't hard to figure out."

"Hey! I could have asked for something different! Like, salt and vinegar ones!"

"You don't even like those, and neither do I. We wouldn't ever buy any."

The two of you talked for another five or so minutes until she had to leave, shouting something about Connie Springer owing her dinner. You took the time to go back into your own room which you actually shared with a third roommate ( neither of you wanted to share a room with Sasha because of her snoring). However, he wasn't home yet, which meant that he'd probably be back late.

You pulled your laptop out of your bag and plugged it in; then you went to grab your notebooks, some pens and pencils, and finally your copy of the book for your project. It was best to get a headstart on the project, as it was worth most of your grade.

Professor Hange had assigned the class to read and analyze an old book written by a nameless author. The idea and plot was interesting to a point. It was a war between mere humans, and a race of humans that could take control of what they called titans. The main two parties at war were named Marley and Eldia, both of which claimed that the other was in the wrong, and had vowed to take revenge, wanting to eradicate the other's existence. Towards the end, there was something of a compromise, and Marley seemed to come out victorious. All in all, there was a lot more to it, and the details were typically gorey and morally wrong. The ending wasn't ever written, leaving all readers to question what they knew and what they may not have been told.

This is where your project came in: you were to try and look into the book, outside sources, even artwork, whatever the class could get their hands on, and work on an analysis. Hange hadn't given many guidelines; they wanted to leave it open and see what the class would come up with. Your group hadn't made a decision yet, but so far, Eren was dead set on writing an analysis on who he thought was right and freedom and some other crap, while Jean only had talked about how Eren was wrong.

Luckily enough, Armin had already written up a potential analysis summary, one that focused on how the two sides were similar and what they shared in common with the rest of humanity, and how trying to pick a side would only allow their bloody history to repeat again. His was rather long winded, but it allowed for you to pick and choose the best parts, and what you guys wouldn't really need.

You spent some time searching the internet for more sources, coming across a few articles on what could be a deeper meaning to the story, and a few on what could have been the rest of the world's view on both Marley and Eldia.

That was when you came across a page for the local museum; it seemed that there was going to be an exhibit about the book, featuring many different artists and even some written works. Taking a moment to write down the dates and price for tickets in your phone’s note app. You then sent a quick text to Armin about it, letting him know that if he wanted, you could go and check it out with Jean.

Clicking your phone off, you gave a heavy sigh and stood up, pulling your arms above your head in a stretch before continuing to work on the project. You knew that you should probably eat something, and drink some water, as you hadn’t really been able to do so in the last few hours. But with the project being so important, you decided against getting back up. If you got up now, chances were that you’d end up wasting some time doing who knows what. You really needed to just focus on your work, food, water and relaxing could come later. This was typical for you, what was one more time anyways?

Quietly, your afternoon quickly turned to night, and you wouldn't have noticed if it weren't for both of your roommates crashing into your room.

You turned around, eyeballing Sasha and your third roommate, Marco Bodt, unsure if you really wanted to ask questions.

"She was drinking with Connie at his place,"

"Huh? Noo I waz'nt ! Conn and I were jus playin a game an' then…and then..mmkay maybe I was drinking, but!" Sasha rambles on for a minute, still leaning heavily on Marco, who just gave a half hearted and weary smile.

You shook your head, and stood up, making your way over to Sasha taking her off Marco's hands "Was Connie like this too?" you asked.

"Yeah, he and Jean both…" Marco sighed, following you as you took Sasha to her room. While you carefully put her in her bed, Marco pulled her shoes off for her.

At his words, you paused for just a moment then you continued to fish Sasha's phone from her pocket, placing it on the charger for her.

"Of course, Jean was drinking, too." you remarked. You tried your best to ignore the irritation rising in you. It wasn't like you guys had to get the whole project done right away, or that Jean couldn't enjoy a drink with his friends. But, it wouldn't surprise you if only Armin and yourself had been the only two to even start.

As the two of you left Sasha to sleep, Marco motioned to the kitchen, saying, "Hungry?" You gave a small nod in response.

Once in the small kitchen area, you hopped onto the counter while your roommate got to work on making something simple. From the looks of it, he was just making mac and cheese, but you couldn't really care less. You hadn't noticed it earlier, but you were actually starving.

A quiet buzz from your pocket pulled your attention from Marco cooking, and you pulled your phone out, seeing a few messages from an unsaved number.

"Heyy, it's me"

"Jean"

"just figured i'd text you since we have be partners"

"Not complaining cause i dont wanna be stuck with eren"

You shook your head at your phone, typing a quick reply back, “Wow really? I couldn’t tell.”

Another buzz, another incoming message, “I really hate that guy. He’s stuck up, and always thinks he’s right”

“You know, I feel like there’s someone else like that too.” You sucked in a deep breath, already feeling a tinge of annoyance creeping its way into your body. Sure, Jean was bound to be the better of the two, but that didn’t mean that you wanted him texting you about his testosterone fueled hatred for Eren.

A few moments pass before he texts you again, the words a little hard to make out at first, “you better not be implying that im like him”

“I would never do that. You are an okay person in my eyes”

“Just okay? I’m fuckin’ great!”

“Yeahh, sure. I agree with you, 100%”

You could almost feel his skeptical gaze through your phone as he sent yet another message, “I dont know if I believe that.”

“I dont care if you believe it or not tbh”

“I cant tell if you like me or not”

At this, you paused. You didn’t really know the guy outside of what you were told by Marco and Sasha. And he definitely did not know you. If he did, he wouldn’t be bothering you right now. But as much as that all was true, you also didn’t want to outright say that you didn’t like him, at least not over text while he was suspiciously hitting you up out of the blue.

“im not sure if like is the right word. Right now I tolerate you.”

“Thats a good thing right?”

You didn’t answer, figuring that he would eventually get the hint. But, within minutes, he was texting you yet again. You watched as more messages popped up one by one, all of which just as hard to read as the others. Though you eventually figured them out. He was promising to do his share of the project, as well as promising to keep on schedule with it. The last thing he sent was asking to meet up tomorrow, and figure out what you wanted him to do, and something about how he couldn't really understand the guideline sheet.

You sent a quick reply, just a place and a time, before returning your phone to your pocket, and just in time, Marco had a bowl of delicious mac and cheese for you.

"Thanks man, you're the best."

"Hey, you cooked last night," he said, shrugging, "and somehow it was pretty impressive, given the fact that we're all super broke and have next to nothing in our cupboards,"

You let out a small laugh at that. "I am a person of many talents."

"Do tell your secrets, as I am eager to know," Marco says in-between bites, playing into the bit.

"Oh, I couldn't, because then you would have to learn my /tragic/ backstory of how I had to fend for myself as a child." You dramatically sigh, placing a hand to your forehead, and then paused, peeking out at Marco before saying, "That part is actually true. At my house, we often had 'Fend for Yourself Nights' where you kinda just threw stuff together it could be leftovers, cereal or, like, dry ramen."

Marco chuckles, pointing his fork at you and saying "So that must be the secret then!"

The kitchen rendezvous went on for a while longer before you both headed off to bed, agreeing that Sasha can do the dishes when she wakes up.

The next day, you had managed to drag yourself out of bed and find your way to the coffee shop where you were supposed to be meeting up with Jean.

Key word is 'supposed' to be, since it had been 30 minutes since you had gotten there. Hopefully, you didn't look like some poor soul that had gotten stood up on a date and more like someone enjoying their Saturday morning.

Another ten minutes passed, and no word from Jean, you had finished your coffee, and had already finished working on pulling out key information from a few of the web sources that you found the night before.

You glanced at the time again and cursed under your breath. You had better things to be doing. So, you quickly pack up your things and toss out the trash before leaving.

Just as you returned to the little table to grab your bag, the bell at the door chimed, drawing your attention.

There stood Jean Kirstein himself, out of breath, hair hastily brushed out of his face, and clothes a whole mess…you were pretty sure he had worn them yesterday too.

However, his sudden entrance had also gathered stares from everyone in the shop;most people looked on with a frown, questioning why he had just thrown open the door like that, just to stand there looking like a lost puppy.

You groaned, marching towards him and then grabbing his wrist and dragging him out of the way.

"Seriously? You show up almost an hour late, and make a big scene?!" you say, continuing to pull him down the sidewalk.

"I know, I know!" He took in a sharp breath, stumbling as he went.

"I mean seriously?! What's your deal?"

"I didn't mean to be late! And can you stop shouting? My head is killing me…"

You came to an abrupt stop and turned around to face him. "It doesn't matter if you didn't mean to be late, you were still late! I mean, come on, I sat there and looked completely stupid while I waited!"

At your words, he tugged his arm free from your grasp, and hesitated for a moment before, saying, "Okay, I'm sorry. I should have been here on time."

"Or at least texted me to tell me!" You sighed, bringing a hand up to your temple. "Whatever, let's just find somewhere else to sit and I can show you what your part of the project is."

With those words, the two of you walked in silence until you were back at campus, arriving at one of the rooms designated for studying. It didn't take long to run through Jean's responsibilities, and for you both to settle into a somewhat uncomfortable quiet and begin to work.

Currently, you were taking the information gathered earlier and writing them into evidence for your thesis while Jean was searching for art pieces to analyze.

Every fifteen to twenty minutes or so, you'd check in with eachother and help if needed-and Jean needed more help than you did, really.

And maybe if he hadn’t spammed you with drunk texts the night before, and then came late to your meeting, it wouldnt have bothered you as much. So when he did ask for your help, you were being short and to the point. Luckily for you, helping him was easy. It consisted of choosing between artwork, and identifying key themes or details that stood out, and then giving him ways to write it down so that it made sense with the overall idea behind your project. Now and then, you'd have him read over what you wrote, just to see what all he thought and if he had any suggestions.

Finally, after a few hours, Jean leaned back in his chair and sighed loudly. "Okay, I think we've got a lot done. Why don't we break for the day?" he suggested.

At his words, you hesitated. While a break did sound nice, you'd much rather keep working. If you got ahead, there'd be time for breaks later, or time for helping Armin and the others.

"You go on ahead, I'm going to stay a little longer. Thanks for showing up today." You gave a small smile before looking back down to your laptop, trying to spot where you left off.

For a moment or so, Jean packed up his things, not necessarily quietly, but enough for it not to bother you. Though, after he finished doing so, he didn't leave. Instead, he stood /annoyingly/ close to you, seemingly trying to burn holes into the back of your head.

"Is there something you need or…?"

"You're seriously going to stay and work more?"

"...Yeah?"

Jean let out a small series of 'tsk' noises and began to close your notebooks and the few textbooks you had brought. You stuttered out half of a sentence, none of it making any sense, as you watched him stack up your things, his finishing move to carefully close your laptop without even shutting it off.

"What are you…Why…I mean-what?"

"I think you work too hard." he remarked, grinning. Normally that would sound snarky coming from him, this time he sounded gentle, and nothing in his face seemed to show any ill will. "I mean, I've never seen you do anything fun. All you do is push yourself to do work."

You were at a loss for words, face heating up with embarrassment. Just because he had never seen you do fun things didn't mean that you were some sort of shut in who only ever focused on homework and studying.

Jean waited for you to pack your things, all of which you did while in a small haze, trying to comprehend it all. When you were done, he motioned for you to follow him, not saying a word of what he had planned.

The two of you walked outside, Jean slightly ahead of you as he continued to lead the way. Occasionally, someone would stop Jean, asking him about a party or a class. He seemed to have a lot of friends, or rather just a lot of acquaintances.

Eventually, you both came to a little grassy field, one where students often came to waste time, or play games like spikeball, or frisbee. Currently, it wasn't very busy, and the two of you found a spot to sit and relax under a warm spring sky.

For the first five minutes, you sat in silence, an almost comfortable one. You found yourself mumbling about how this wasn't so bad, noticing from the corner of your eye as Jean turned to look at you.

"Would I ever lead you astray?" Jean elbowed you carefully, earning a scowl from you.

"Given that we don't really know each other, I'm not sure," you retorted.

"I know that we've had at least three classes together since freshman year, and that you don't seem to like anyone," he pointed out.

"Not true,” you said. “Sasha and Marco are very nice people who I like a lot,"

At this he barked out a laugh, a wonderful sound really, compared to his typical evil sounding snicker. "Okay, so you appreciate the presence of three specific people."

"Three? I only named two people," you said, holding up two fingers to signify your only two friends.

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but right now you don't seem to hate me, so I counted myself."

You gave another scowl."If we were able to pick our own groups, I would have picked other people, just for the record"

"Ouch, that kind of stings."

You couldn't tell if he was serious or not, but one thing you did know was that he probably wouldn't have picked you either. Not that it really bothered you. While it was true that you've shared classes in the two years that you've been in college, the two of you never really talked.

Sure, you've had the quick conversations in the hall, or maybe accidentally bumped into each other when trying to take Sasha home, or even just when Jean would hang out with Marco at your dorm.

It wasn't that you didn't like him (aside from his huge ego and inability to get along with certain people) or even that you didn't like people in general. You honestly just wanted to focus on school, so that you would graduate on time, and get the hell out of this town. Personal relationships could come later, and you were completely content with that. Being alone wasn't something that bothered you. Or, something that you /let/ bother you.

You leaned back until you were laying down in the grass, staring up at the cloudy sky. The more you thought about it, the more your head seemed to churn with an anxious and maybe even guilty conscience.

"By the way, I'd say that, even though we didn't get to pick our own groups, I don't mind being paired with you." You sighed, keeping your eyes trained on the sky as Jean laid down next to you.

From there, the conversation switched to a few different topics, one of them being a small argument over the particular shape of a cloud and what you thought it was.

Eventually, the clouds dissipated, and the sky faded from its blue to a dusty orange lined with a pale pink-ish-purple.

"I guess it's time to go home for the night," Jean said.

"Mhm, guess so," you quietly said, but made no effort to sit up yet.

Next to you, Jean stood, brushing off his clothes and running a hand through his hair, attempting to make sure there wasn't any grass on his person. Then, when it was apparent that you still hadn't even moved, he nudged you with his shoe. "You coming or what?"

"I’m waiting,"

"For what?"

"The first star I see"

Jean slowly looked away from you and to the sky, "Can I ask why?"

"No."

It wasn't really a big deal, but this was your favorite time of the day, and you had the habit of looking for the first star you could find and making a small wish on it. It had been something you'd done ever since you were a kid; old habits die hard. But it wasn't something you just went and told people about, especially not someone like Jean. You were sure that he'd poke fun at you for it.

His voice pulled you away from your thoughts, and you watched as he pointed just above your heads. "I think there's one over there."

From your perspective, he was lined up to where the star was atop his finger.The sight made you smile softly; you didn’t notice that he had glanced back down, watching the small moment.

"Okay, now we can go." You sat up slowly and climbed to your feet, grabbing your bag from where it had been by your feet.

The two of you parted ways for the night, and you found yourself back at your dorm, which was uncharacteristically empty and quiet. Either Sasha would come home drunk again (or with her hands full of food that she got from Connie or that Niccolo guy) or that she would stay out for the night. Marco on the other hand, was probably visiting some other friends for the short weekend, so most likely, you had the place to yourself until the following evening.

With the freedom at hand, you took some time to make dinner and lounged around the shared living space, until eventually, your eyelids grew heavy, and you forced yourself into your bed for the night.

The sound of knocking at your door woke you up. At first, you had half a mind to ignore it, but with your roommates, and the friends they had, the knocking wouldn't stop. You glanced at the clock, seeing that it was around noon, a time that you hardly ever slept in till.

"Yeah, okay, I'm up. Who is it?" you grumbled at the door, noting that if it was Marco, he wouldn't necessarily need to knock, meaning that it must be Sasha.

And it was. At your words, she swung the door open lazily, and leaned around the corner, "Heyyy, I was wondering if you had plans today? Connie, Jean, and I were going to play some volleyball! Wanna come? Marco is gonna join us later!"

You took a moment to think it over. It was Sunday, so you didn't have classes, and depending on how long you were out, you could always do more homework later. Not to mention, Jean's comment about how you worked too much was still fresh in your mind.

"...Yeah, okay, I'll come play. Give me a few minutes and I'll get dressed."

She gave you a huge grin, shouting over her shoulder, "They said they'd come! You guys still have the net?"

You watched as she disappeared back into the main area of the dorm, and then shut your door to change. When you exited, you could see the three of them waiting by the door, Jean holding the net, while Connie was tossing the ball between his hands.

The walk was fairly short, as Jean had suggested the field that the two of you had been at the other day, and just like the day before, there weren't very many people out. You guys could set up a spot without having to worry about anyone else.

At least, that's how it was at first. The game went smoothly. Surprisingly, all three of them were pretty good at the sport; though, if you had to rank them, it would be Sasha, then Jean (mostly because he can use his height to his advantage), and then Connie.

For the first game you played, it was you and Sasha versus Jean and Connie. Then, it switched to you and Connie, and finally, you and Jean.

No one was really counting points; no one could keep track, though each side was sure that they were winning, even if they weren't. It was about halfway through the current match, right as you were about to serve, when something came crashing into your head.

It had hit you pretty hard, and it took you a moment to even realize what had happened and what was currently happening.

"Hey, man, watch where you throw this thing! You nearly took my partner out!" Jean was holding a football and pointing it aggressively at another college student, who you think was named Floch or something close to it.

The guy snatched the ball from Jean, giving him the dirtiest look. "Well, maybe you guys shouldn't be playing so close to where we are."

At this, Connie and Sasha stepped up. Connie took to Jean's side, starting to bicker with the guy, while Sasha checked your head, fussing over you.

"Just say sorry to our friend already. You can at least agree that you hit them!" You weren't sure who said that, as all the voices blended together until that moment. Suddenly all eyes were on you.

More specifically, Floch's eyes. He regarded you warily, annoyance clear in his eyes and voice. "Your dumbass friend looks fine to me,” he sneered. “And besides, we tried to warn them, and they didn't move. It's their own fault. Don't go blaming me for your friend being an idiot."

You weren't sure what came over you; maybe it was anger from the childish name calling, or maybe it was the stress of the week getting to you, but within an instant, you had crossed the few feet to get to him, and threw a punch.

You watched as he stumbled back, nearly running into one of his nameless friends, as he clutched at his face. He was clearly seeing red.

"How dare you!" he shouted out. He started to make his way over to you, obscenities of all sorts falling from his mouth.

None of which you really heard, because at that exact moment, Sasha and Connie both shouted the same thing, 'Run,' and took off.

And, before you knew it, Jean grabbed your hand, pulling you along as he chased after the two, until you four were sure that Floch and his extras weren't going to follow you.

When you finally stopped, everyone was bent over, stuck in between laughing and gasping for air.

"Holy shit! That was insane!" Sasha wheezed out, and straightened out, turning to the group with a large smile on her face.

Connie spoke next, hands still on his knees. "I can't believe we ran away."

All at once, realization hit you: you had just clocked a guy, and then ran away, without even thinking twice. Never in your life had you done something like that. You weren't super confrontational, and you certainly would rather avoid physical altercations. But, at that moment, you had just done it. And, the crazy thing about it was how amusing you found it. Because even though you were struggling to breathe, you were laughing. The kind of laugh where you couldn't stop, and your eyes would start to tear up.

From where he was standing at your side, Jean watched for a moment, a certain fluttering in his chest (though he could pass it off as his own endeavors with taking in air). You, for the first time that he had seen, were so laid back about the fact that you had hit someone. And the way that you were now chuckling to yourself, clearly in a sort of disbelief mixed with content.

Jean drew your attention, "Is it bad that I kind of liked seeing you hit him?" Then he paused, as if he had rethought his choice of words. "I mean, in the sense that Floch is a stuck up, entitled bastard, and that he had it coming."

You gave a little huff, and shrugged. "Well, I'm sure anyone would pay to see that…I honestly didn't know that I was going to hit him…until right after."

"Well, that was amazing! That guy's been a tyrant since the beginning of the year! He even tries to get in with Eren's group, as if he was even worth being someone to talk to." Connie clapped a hand on your back, his adrenaline still running through him.

"And I thought that Jean was the one to start fights," Sasha teased.

"Sasha! I don't start fights!"

Around you, the three continued to talk while you watched, enjoying the sight.

It was rather nice, for once. You weren't holed up in your dorm room while everyone else had fun, even if the fun was getting into a fight of sorts—which, as you thought back on it, the whole thing was kind of funny. It would have easily been solved if those assholes had just apologized, but you were starting to think that this outcome was better.

“Hey, should we go back for our things?” Jean asked, pulling your attention to him.

“Yeah, probably, and if those assholes are still there, I think we know someone who can take them on for us.” Connie sent a lopsided grin your way, a certain mischievous look in his eyes.

You shrugged, acting as innocent as possible. “Oh yeah, you’d be the perfect guy for that, even with the serious height disadvantage.”

Connie’s mouth dropped open, not quite expecting that kind of remark from you. As far as he knew, you were silent, hardworking, and the person who likes to keep to yourself. Even you were a little surprised, but, maybe after today’s events you could try out some new ways to enjoy your life a little more.

Once again, the four of you made your way back to the field, and as you did, you could see a familiar figure standing by your net, looking down at his phone.

“Marco! You made it!” Connie shouted out, drawing your friend’s attention. “You missed all the action; it was insane!”

“Huh? Did I miss out on playing? And where were you guys?”

As you approached, Sasha and Connie exploded into answers for his question.

“You only missed a little of our game-”

“We had to run from Forrester and his braindead lackeys!”

“We’ve got our own Rocky! You should have seen the way they punched him! No hesitation at all!”

Slowly, Marco seemed to piece all of the information together, nodding as he thought it all over. His eyes looked at everyone one by one until he got to you. “You punched someone? The most I've ever seen from you was the time you swore at your computer when it crashed!”

A small and almost shy smile escaped you, “Well, to be fair he started it. I honestly didn’t even think about doing it; my hand moved on it’s own,”

He only shook his head, looking back around the group. “So, are we still playing?”

Jean shook his head. “Maybe we should head back to one of the dorms? Relax or play some games?”

“Oh! I’ve got some fun games!” Sasha chimed in, then paused. “But I’m kind of hungry, so maybe we could make some food, too!”

Once everyone agreed to the plan, the now five of you ended up in the dorm you shared with Marco and Sasha, where Connie, Sasha and Marco focused on setting up some games in the little living room area, and you and Jean were tasked with making some dinner. Of course, it wasn’t exactly easy, given the few options, but eventually, the two of you were able to settle on a college delicacy: instant ramen.

You pulled out a pot to fill with water, while Jean opened a few packs of said ramen. All in all, it was easy to make, and didn’t take terribly long. Before you knew it, you were handing out bowls to the other three while Jean brought over yours and his to where you were now sitting on the floor, some game cards in front of you.

“Okay, listen up, I’m not explaining this twice,” Connie announced. “The game is simple: read a card to yourself and then say someones name who you think matches the card. You flip a coin. If it’s heads, you tell everyone what was on the card and give that person the card. If it’s tails, you keep it to yourself, and the card is yours.” Connie gave everyone a pointed look, and when no questions or objections were raised, the game started.

The first to go is Marco; he took a moment to read his card before immediately calling out Connie’s name. Then when the coin was flipped, it landed on heads, earning a small sigh from Marco.

“It asked who would be the one to need parental supervision no matter what age someone is,” Marco explained.

“What? Why not Sasha?! She gets into more trouble than I do!”

“Hah! Say that to Professor Levi and all the times he has had to tell you to shut up,” Jean remarked “And not to mention you black out at every party you go to. Do you know how many times I have to carry you home while you sing at the top of your lungs?”

Connie grumbled a bit, but didn’t try to deny the claims. Instead, he pulled out a card to read. His turn ended with a flip of tails, making it now your turn.

From the main deck, you pulled your card and read it over silently: ‘Out of everyone in the group, who would you rather make out with?’

You can feel your face heat up, already knowing that you only really have two options, Jean or Marco. And Marco is only really a choice because of how well you know him, but even then, you wouldn’t really want to do that with him. So after a few moments of silence, you call Jean’s name, looking anywhere but at his face.

“That took you some time; must be a good card.” Sasha grinned, reaching for the coin and giving it an impressive flip. Everyone seemed to hold their breath as it landed, and all at once, five heads stuck together to see the outcome.

Heads. The worst possible way for things to go. You could feel all eyes on you now, and you begrudgingly read out the card, once again avoiding looking at Jean entirely.

A chorus of ooo’s and ahh’s filled your ears, and everyone had something to say about your answer.

The only one you even managed to hear was the man himself: “I hope you plan to take me out first, I’m not won over so easily." Of course, he had a cocky smirk on his face, pointed directly at you.

“Whatever, just…whoever is next, take your turn.” You shook your head, busying yourself with eating some of your food that was now starting to get a little cold.

Time seemed to escape you all and the night drew to a close with Connie and Jean taking their leave. Marco took the time to wash the dishes, roping Sasha into helping, and you retired to your room. You took the time to change into some comfier clothes and settle into your bed, though not quite wanting to sleep just yet.

Your mind was still stuck on the first game you played and the card you had picked Jean for. While you wouldn’t argue against the idea of finding Jean attractive, or even the idea of kissing him, you just weren’t sure why you were so trapped in thinking about it. You didn’t even know him all that well, and for the most part, you had thought that he was pretty unbearable.

And yet, the more your thoughts seemed to revolve around him, the more you could feel an uneasy knot forming in your stomach. There was no way that you were going to let yourself get wrapped up in developing feelings for him, or anyone. You were supposed to be focusing on school so that you could get the hell out of this town and make something of yourself.

Not to mention the fact that all of your previous attempts at relationships crashed and burned. The last time that you had gotten close with someone in that way, you ended up with a mixture of being heartbroken and incredibly angry. That was about the time you started keeping to yourself, as if getting to know someone in a more than platonic way would cause your world to shatter again. You couldn’t-no /wouldn’t/ deal with something like that again.

You let out a groan, planting face first into your pillow and trying to shoo away all thoughts related to romance and feelings, and of Jean Kirstein.

“Suffocating yourself?”

You jumped lightly, head snapping up to see Marco in the doorway, leaning against the door frame. His expression was a little hard to read, though he could be like that at times.

“Uh…no, not quite what I’m going for, but if it gets the job done, then sure,” you joked.

He moved across the room to his own bed where he took a seat, facing you. “Then what’s with the face-in-pillow tactic?”

You hesitated, knowing full and well how close Marco was with Jean, closer than he was with you. “Oh, uh, just, school things, homework, assignments, that sort of thing…”

His eyes narrowed slightly, brows furrowing. “Yeah, for once I don’t buy that, but if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t force you to spill the details."

Again, you paused, turning away from Marco and looking towards the door. In truth, it wouldn’t hurt to tell him, since he wouldn’t ever tell a secret that wasn’t his. He was definitely the guy who would just want to talk things out, not wanting things to end badly.

“Okay…Well…that card I got earlier,” you began. “I’m just worried, and I know that it’s just a stupid game, but I cant help but think about it.”

“Worried that Jean took it the wrong way, or worried that you’d actually want to kiss him?”

Marco was somehow always hitting the nail on the head, a talent of his.

“Would saying both make sense?”

He thought for a moment, the room filling with an unnamable silence, until he spoke again. “Well, I’m sure Jean is going to take it in the way he always does: an ego boost for his way too big head.” Another pause. “As for the idea of maybe wanting to kiss him, I wouldn’t say that's an all too terrible idea, besides the fact that it’s Jean. But, if you really aren't sure about how you feel towards him, maybe you could…test it out?"

“Test it out?” you repeated, confused.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Like ask him to hang out or something. You don’t have to necessarily make it like a date, but you could use the time to get to know him more, and figure out if it’s just because everyone made a big deal out of it, or if you might actually be interested in him, or getting to know him.”

You thought for a moment. The idea was pretty simple, and a good one at that, though just thinking about it made your heart rate speed up. It wasn’t like you had never been one on one with Jean, but now, with all of your thoughts being scrambled like eggs, it was slightly overwhelming. But when it came down to it, you wanted to sort it all out. If you could set your mind straight, and get rid of these terrible thoughts about Jean, you could get back on track for school.

“You’re right, I’ll definitely try that.” You let out a small breath of air and turned back to Marco. “Thanks, I’m glad you’re here.”

“What would you do without me? And don’t worry— I won’t say anything to anyone. my lips are sealed” He smiled, hand coming up to his mouth to mime a zipper motion.

“Okay, good. Unless you want to end up like the douche from earlier, I wouldn’t recommend telling a soul.”

He gave a laugh before gathering some of his things to go and take a shower, leaving you alone once more. You eventually drifted off to sleep, and surprisingly, you didn’t wake up once.

The next day, you only had one class, and once that was over, you had gone to the library to study, needing to get work done for a few of your other classes. It was a nice change in pace from the day you had yesterday. It wasn’t super crowded, either, which meant you could focus on your work in peace.

Though, it didn’t last long, as two new faces joined your table. You looked up, almost expecting to see Jean and Connie, or Marco and Sasha, but to your surprise, it was Eren and Armin.

“I hope you don’t mind us joining you!” Armin smiles, though something in his eyes tells you that he didn’t pick your table without a reason.

“Uh, no that’s okay.”

He and Eren settled into two of the chairs, the latter of the two only pulling out his phone. Armin did the exact opposite. He took out two textbooks, a large notebook, and a handful of pens, pencils and markers.

For the first five minutes or so, the three of you sat in silence. You worked on homework for a communications class, while armin was seemingly working on a paper for a psyche class. But when Eren suddenly scoffed at his phone, you stopped what you were doing to look up at him, questioning his action.

He in turn looked at you, maybe even through you. “So, turns out, someone gave Forrester a nasty bruise yesterday. He wont say who, so i’m thinking he got his ass kicked and just doesn’t want to admit it.”

You feigned ignorance, giving Eren a blank stare, “I’m not really sure who that is, but sounds like a tough time for him.”

Eren regarded you for a moment, but it wasn’t his stare that bothered you. You now had Armin’s attention, as if he wanted to ask a question. Or, make a comment on what you said. But instead he said, “Well, I’m not the one to really get into these things, but Floch does like to cause problems for himself, so maybe he deserved it?”

You nodded along, not wanting to give Eren any more information. With him, rumors tended to get out of hand quickly, and you really did not want to be the talk of the school over an altercation with Floch. To everyone in the school, you were pretty much some nobody, and frankly, you weren’t upset at the idea. If it meant less trouble for you, it was going to be something you’d stay okay with.

“Well he’s been bitching about it all day. It’s starting to get on my nerves.” Eren flipped his phone over, leaning back in his chair as he did.

“Does he expect you to do something about it?” You asked, still trying to keep a low profile, while also trying to pry more information out of him.

“I’m sure thats what he wants, but I’m not going to help him with that, Floch can fight his own battles.”

A thick silence descended over your table. You took it as a sign that you could continue working on your homework. The one for your comms class wasn’t due until tomorrow, but you really wanted to finish it.

This had always really been how you did things. You tried to finish things early, study as soon as possible, take as much time to get your work done as possible. And you weren’t the only one. Armin had also gone back to his work, and though you weren’t sure when it was due for him, but it wouldn’t be surprising if it was due at the end of the week or so.

You weren’t all that close with Armin, but the two of you had taken the time to study with eachother for the one class that you did share, and you had even reached out once to ask if he would tutor you for a few sessions, needing help with your math at the time. It was a nice thought to know that you weren’t the only student to stray from the eyes of their peers.

Though he had a harder time with it, being best friends with Eren and all. Not to mention he was also friends with Mikasa Ackerman, who was arguably the girl who drew most people’s attention.

Before you knew it, two hours had passed, and you felt your phone buzz. You picked it up from the table, squinting your eyes at the bright screen. It was Jean.

“Hey, why are you with Armin, and that idiot.”

At this, you paused, looking around the library, not seeing Jean.

“Where are you?” you replied.

After a minute or two, your phone buzzed again.

“Come and find me.”

And that was it. He didn’t send any other messages, even after you sent him two more, questioning him again. You frowned, then looked to your things. You had been working for awhile, so getting up and moving might not be the worst thing. You proceeded to pack everything that you had pulled out earlier, and stood from your chair, looking to the other two.

“I think I’m going to head out. Let’s meet up again later in the week to work on Professor Hange’s assignment.”

Armin glanced up, and smiled, “Okay! How about Thursday? I can show you what all I’ve finished!”

“Sounds good.” You gave a short wave, and turned away from the table, scanning the surrounding areas before setting off in a random direction.

There were a few more tables behind some of the bookshelves, but none of the students sitting at them were Jean. You checked out the library’s computer section next, and kept looking until you ended up near Armin and Eren again. Another frown crossed your face, until you heard a muffled laugh.

With the new hint, you looked upwards to the second floor. And there he was, leaning against the railing, smirking down at you. You felt your face heat up in what you were going to call embarrassment, and definitely not any other word that had to do with your complicated thoughts on him, and how from where you stood, he looked almost handsome.

You sent a halfhearted glare his way and headed up the stairs, making your way over to him, about to comment on his antics, but you weren’t able to get a word out before he could make fun of you.

“You looked really dumb running around trying to find me.”

You gave an astonished laugh, “Yeah, well you sounded like a complete stalker just now.”

“And you still came to find me. I’m starting to think you like me more than you let on.”

The unsettling feeling returned to your stomach at his words, though you weren’t surprised that he was poking fun at you after yesterdays game. “In your dreams.” You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to ease the increasing amount of uneasiness that was slowly taking ahold of you.

“Hm, I guess that’s true. Does that mean you want me to dream about it?” He looked at you contently, despite all of what he said being the brashest thing you had heard from him yet.

You didn’t say anything to that, instead you changed the subject quickly. “To answer your question about who I was with, I actually didn’t plan on sitting with them. Armin and Eren joined me.”

He gave a slow nod, and peered back at the table down below, where the two were still sitting, “Do you think I could spit on Eren from here?”

“No, and I dont think you should even try.”

“Buzzkill.”

You scoffed, “I am not a buzzkill. You are just in the middle of some pointless battle of being better than each other.”

Jean looked back to you, staring at you for a moment. Then back down at Eren. “I just don’t get what everyone sees in that guy. He’s clearly an egotistical bastard with no regards to anyone else.”

“Do you think that you guys have anything in common in the fact that you both have ridiculously large egos?”

“Don’t lump me in with him.” This he said more seriously, “Anyways, enough about him, do you want to go do something?”

“Like what?”

He shrugged, and started for the stairs. You followed him wordlessly, and the two of you left the library, now back outside where a light breeze met you. The silence continued to hang over you two as you walked aimlessly in a random direction. You couldn’t tell if he was still thinking about your comment on him and Eren, or something else completely. You decided against asking him about it, and instead found a different topic.

“Hey so, I found this art exhibit at the museum, it’s about the book Hange assigned us. I was thinking that we could go and check it out and see if we can find anything useful?”

He thought for a moment, eyes wandering the path ahead. “Okay, it doesn’t sound like the worst way to spend an afternoon.”

“Would eleven in the morning on Friday or Saturday be okay?”

“Friday works better for me, I think I’ve got plans with Connie on Satuday.”

“Okay, Friday it is.” You paused, a smile slowly making it’s way onto your face, “Just make sure to be on time. I wont wait for you this time.”

“Hey! I already apologized for that.” He stopped in place, giving you a pointed look.

You stopped a few feet in front of him, shrugging as you continued to speak, “I need to cover all the bases. I am not going to wait around for you, just for you to tell me that you were hungover.”

“I am not going to be hungover again. I’m not going to make you wait, I swear.”

“You better not, I won’t be as forgiving this time.” You go to move past him, elbowing him as you do.

He turns on his heel to catch up with you, giving you a slight push at the same time, “You were hardly forgiving last time. You were mad the entire time we were working on the assignment,” Jean pauses, taking a moment to look at the path that you had set off on, “Wait, where are we even going?”

You glanced over to him, then back infront of you. “Well, I’ve done nothing but school work today, and you didn’t mention anything specific other than ‘go do something’ and last time you picked where we went, so now its my turn.”

“Are you going to tell me where we are heading at least?”

“No.” You smiled a little at the statement, remembering how you had done the same thing to him when he had asked about you caring so much about seeing the stars. Looking back over to Jean, who was staring straight ahead, you took a moment to really look at him.

He was pretty tall, and when he wasn’t smiling like some sort of evil bastard, he had a pretty nasty resting bitch face, a combination that probably scared anyone who didn’t know him. Though, you could say that despite all that, he had a few attractive features to him. When he was smiling, actually smiling that is, his eyes lit up. You hadn’t noticed it much before, but now when you thought back on the past few days of being around him, you could see the way his eyes would hold a certain softness. And when he was thinking, he tended to frown, scrunching up his nose until he came to whatever conclusion he needed. And when the two of you were in the field the other evening, he had an almost blissful aura to him, as if he had no cares in the world, you wouldn't ever guess that he was someone who caused so much trouble. Honestly it was probably a good thing that he had a difficult personality. If his ego was bad now, you don't want to know what he'd be like if he knew all of this about himself.

You looked away before he could catch you staring, and before you gave yourself any more time to think about him, not wanting to let yourself actually fall for the guy.

Instead you focused on finding your way to today's randomized destination. If you were being honest, you hadn't actually thought of somewhere to go, and frankly, with how little you actually went out, you didn't know too many spots around campus. Regardless, you continued to lead the way, until an idea formed in your head.

Earlier in the year, you had gotten a tad bit lost while trying to find a class, and ended up on the edge of your campus, where you stumbled on an old tree. Aside from the size of the thing, it seemed completely normal. But when you had looked further at it, there was something of a hidey hole in its backside. Since discovering it, you had made countless trips to the tree, using it as a place to get away from the school. You definitely weren't the first person to discover it, but it seemed like no one else ever really visited the old thing.

As you and Jean came upon the tree, he gave a low whistle, craning his head back to take in it's height, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you just took me to a make out spot,"

You threw a bewildered look at him, before shaking your head slowly, "Well, since you do know better, you should know that it's more likely that I've brought you to the best place on campus to hide a body."

He in turn shook his own head, "And here I thought we we're getting closer,"

"Closer to hiding your body?"

"Not quite what I was thinking…" he trailed off, taking a moment to circle around the tree, his hand trailing along the bark as he went, "so, what made you pick here? Other than premeditated murder."

As he came back around, you watched as he took the time to drop his bag at the ground by his feet, kneeling down next to it for a moment, searching its contents.

"Hm, I'm not entirely sure. I'm pretty sure I'm the only person who ever comes here anymore." You pause, eyeballing what Jean was now holding in his hands, "It's kind of like a secret hideout minus the secret part, since anyone can stumble on this old tree."

"And yet you brought me here…I'm starting to worry about my wellbeing," he chuckles, then takes a seat a few feet away from the tree.

In his hands, he held a sketchbook. It looked a good few years old, as loose pages stuck out here and there, and the sheets were starting to yellow along the edges. You watched on quietly, as he flipped open to one of the last few pages, pausing as he glanced back at the tree.

After a few moments you moved to stand just behind him, looking down at the page, which now held some sketch lines, resembling the tree just ahead of you.

You kept quiet for a bit, watching him quietly. He was lighthanded, it was as if any stray line within the whole piece would fly off the page and into the world around you.

"You know you can sit and watch me draw too, right?"

"Yeah, and sit next to you? No thanks." You moved away from him, a slight flustered tone in your voice as you realized just how long you had been observing him.

Instead, you took a seat at the base of the tree, opening your own bag, pulling out some more of your homework. Between the two of you, the only noises were the sounds of pencil on paper, and the occasional shifting of branches in the wind.

You weren't really sure just how long things stayed that way. The only thing that brought your mind back to reality was the feeling of being stared at.

"Need something?" You asked, arching a quizzical eyebrow in Jean's direction.

He shook his head, closing his sketchbook quietly, "Not at all. I was just wondering how much homework you were going to do before you got bored of being such a studious person."

You scoffed at him. He was teasing you for this again?

"Well, unlike some people, I need to pass all my classes so I can get the hell out of here."

"You hate it here that much?"

You paused, a lump forming in your throat. How were you even supposed to answer that question? All in all, this small town was horrible, and had been that way your entire life. Growing up you didn't have very many friends, and your family was fairly distant to you. You had shouldered all of your problems and responsibilities by yourself. Even now, in your college years it was hard to shake the feeling that you were still alone.

You drew in a breath. "Sometimes, I sit by myself at my desk, and just stare at one of my notebooks until all the lines blur together. And then I realize that I'm crying. But what's funny about that is, I never know why I'm crying. " you start, bringing your eyes to his, "I never have the words to describe what i'm feeling in those moments. It's the same with how I feel about this place. I really don't know if I hate it, or if I'm just…projecting something else onto it."

Jean stills with the information, until he takes a long breath in, "Art isn't much of a passion for me, as much as it is a hobby. I can't tell you how many half finished sketches I have. Sometimes I feel like I just don't have it in me to finish them, as if I'm scared of not knowing what I'm going to do next."

He isn't talking about art. You know this from the way that Jean looks at you, not with pity, but with a hint of understanding.

It was silent once again. Your brain turned over and over as you repeated his words in your head. Slowly, a wistful smile spread across your face.

"You know Jean, you're not so bad after all."

He stands up, shaking his head as he does, and makes his way over to you, holding out a hand for you to take, "I have my moments, I can't always be the charming asshole everyone says I am."

You hesitated for a moment, eyes flicking to his hand. Slender fingers and a wide palm, his hand looked soft, and the thought of holding it, even just for a moment, would be comforting. You took his hand, averting your gaze as he helped you to your feet.

"I'm sure everyone leaves out the 'charming' part."

"That's where you're wrong, everyone thinks I'm charming."

"Everyone but me that is," you chirp back, letting your hands fall to your sides.

"You dont think I'm charming?"

The churning sensation is back. You /wanted/ to say no, to tell him that he was annoying, loud-mouthed, and a pain in the ass, but somewhere in the time you'd known him, he had become annoyingly endearing, loudly funny, and a pain in the ass to ignore the thumping in your chest.

"I can't say charming is the word I'd use to describe you. Horribly pleasant maybe, but not charming."

At this he smirks, starting to walk backwards away from you, "Oh so you think I'm pleasant? Hopefully in the way that I'm nice to look at."

"You missed the word horrible,"

He waved off your comment, instead placing one hand on his chest, right over his heart, while reaching out the other hand towards you, "and yet, if I asked you to join me to a delicious five star dinner at my dorm, you'd still say yes."

You could feel your face flush, knowing that he didn't mean anything more than just to hang out for a little bit longer, and not in some sort of lame date way, "I'd only come because it would be free food, even if the food is terrible. Like you."

"So, that's a yes you'll be joining me for dinner? I've got…box mashed potatoes, frozen broccoli, and hopefully leftover seasoned chicken."

You turned back to where you had left your things, a slightly messy sight. "Alright alright, I'll come, pick up your things and we can go."

You knelt down next to your bag, trying to ignore the nervous shaking of your hands as you collected your things. Your mind raced with warring thoughts. How did this happen? How was it that Jean Kirstein of all people, had weaseled his way into being someone that you didn't fully hate? But, there was no way you were going to let him get in the way of school, and your plans to finally be free from this horrible town. But then part of you wondered, was it all one sided? Jean seemed to be the type to have all sorts of girls and guys fawning over him, even if he had only ever been open about one specific girl that he was interested in, which of course had been Mikasa. But you couldn't even blame him, she was out of everyone's league. How she seemed to be completely and obviously in love with Eren Jeager of all people was a mystery to you.

"Hey, are you listening?" His voice stopped your thoughts in their tracks, as you hadn't even noticed that he had been speaking to you.

"Now why would I be doing that?" You shouldered your bag, standing back up and facing him.

"We've been over this, because I'm charming- sorry, pleasant."

"Again, you left out the horrible part."

"I've got a feeling that you don't mean that, otherwise you'd just call me horrible." He turns halfway away from you, looking back to the general area of the school.

You paused, walking up next to him, trying to ignore the fact that he was right, "You just have selective hearing."

Jean eyed you while starting to head back to the dorms, a different and softer smile making its way onto his face, "Not when it comes to you."

You nearly tripped over a stray rock, his words repeating in cycles in your head. You could only give him a glance, busying yourself with avoiding any other stones on the sidewalk.

What did he mean by that? What did you want those words to mean? Your mind flashes back to your conversation with Marco. The feeling of your heart painfully pounding against your ribs surfaces. Your hands tremble ever so slightly while they grasp at the straps of your bag. Marco was right, and he hadn’t even said anything about you actually having feelings for Jean.

As the thought hit, you spared another quick look towards him. He was looking at you. Careful eyes studying your demeanor. The way you walked. The way your eyes struggled to meet his. The way your mouth formed a tight line as you realized all of this was happening.

“Hey, if you really don’t want to try my cooking, you don’t have to come.” He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair for a moment.

You looked away. You could turn him down, you could go home. It would be the easy way out. You could ignore any of his future attempts at hanging out. You could finish school and leave this place. Leave him and everyone else again.

The thought of it made you shudder. In doing so, you would be condemning yourself to your worst self. Being alone.

You looked back to Jean, his face morphed into one of concern, clearly puzzled as to why you were taking so long to answer.

You were tired of being alone. Tired of pushing away your own happiness in pursuit of a future that wasn’t even set in stone.

You flashed a smile his way, and waved off his words, “No way, you said it was a five star dinner. I can’t pass on that.”

He stared at you for a moment. Then, his confusion melted away, replaced by that famous cocky smile, “Okay good, I wasn’t sure what to do if you bailed on me.”

“Maybe you could have cooked for Connie too, light some candles, play some mood music, you know, make it all romantic for the two of you.” You chuckled, about to make another remark when Jean gave you a playful shove.

“Why would you say that! I can’t have a romantic dinner with Connie of all people!”

“Sure you can! It’s easy! Candles, music, food! All you need!”

Jean groaned and shook his head. “You’re horrible.”

“Pleasant, actually.” You grinned.

He hummed in response, and you could’ve swore you heard him mumble ‘horribly pleasant my ass’

His dorm room was warm, and set up similarly to yours. The same bland, small kitchen and the same questionable excuse for a couch just a few feet away. Three sets of doors that led to his roommates, and two bathrooms.

One of the doors were open, and you caught a glimpse of Connie attempting to take mirror selfies. He would take one, bring the phone close to his face, frown and then try again. It wasn’t until his third or forth picture that he noticed you staring through the mirror.

“Well if it isn’t our very own Rocky!” He grinned, hastily shoving his phone into the pocket of his sweats.

“Hey Connie” you waved, then smirked a little, “I'm sure the ladies will love all of those selfies.”

His face flushed slightly, and he stepped out of his small room, “For your information, the ladies already love seeing my handsome face. I was just taking a few more for-”

Jean cut him off, a bark of a laugh filling the room, “Like you can get a girl to think your ugly mug is anything worth looking at.”

Connie gaped, “Dude, that’s just cold. I thought you liked my face.”

You eyeballed the two, before turning to Jean and mouthing the words, ‘romantic dinner’

Jean glared halfheartedly, before a smile broke through, “and here I thought I was treating you to a five star, romantic dinner.”

Connie was now the one looking between the two of you, unsure if Jean was being serious or not. You, on the other hand, could feel your face heat up. He had to be joking. Jean was making a joke based off of your joke. That was the only thing that would make sense at the moment.

“Only if it involves candles and music.” You attempt to force your voice into sounding level, as if you weren’t sickeningly thrilled by the idea of your dinner with Jean being a little more than friendly.

His head swivels around the room, scanning the small area before emitting a sigh of halfhearted defeat, “Might need a raincheck on that, I don't have any candles.” Jean pauses, thinking for a moment, “Unless you had your heart set on the romantic dinner with candles and music, maybe I can make something work.” He smirked in your direction, true to his usual cheeky self.

You faced away from him, moving to set your backpack down on the floor by the door, “No candles, no deal.” You pause, practically feeling Connie’s wide eyed stare pointed at your back.

“That’s not a no to having a more than friendly dinner, now is it?” Jean fires back, smiling in a not so innocent way. Your stomach twisted in knots. He wasn’t wrong. You had intentionally avoided his question, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of yet another person falling for his aggravating charm.

You shrug a response, giving back another flippant response, “Sure, if it helps you sleep at night to think of it that way.”

After a moment of silence, Connie’s voice fills the room. “Yeah so, I don’t really know whats going on here, but i’m gonna head out. Sasha is waiting for me with Marco.” He slides on a pair of shoes, grabs a bag and promptly leaves, but not before saying a goodbye, “See ya later Rocky, and Jean, I hope you choke on your food.”

To which, all Jean says is, “Yeah, whatever man.”

You watch him leave quietly, then turn back to face Jean, studying him for a moment. He hasn’t noticed your stares yet, not when he’s busying himself with pulling out what he needed for this dinner supposedly high rated by Michelin themselves.

Throughout the past year or so, you had noticed that when Jean was concentrating, he tended to screw up his face a little, eyebrows scrunched in, mouth quirked off to the side, usually whatever was in his hands was being toyed with. But right now, he was different. A content soft smile, and the look in his eyes was gentle. Fond. Domestic.

“Do you need help with anything?” You asked, feeling the need to do something other than just stand around.

Jean looked back up at you, bag of frozen broccoli in his hands. “Do you want to make the instant potatoes or the broccoli?”

You walked to him, and grabbed the bag from him, “Where do you keep your pots and pans?”

“Planning on making this a fancy dinner?” He paused, taking a moment to grab out a small pot for you, and then a lid. “Are you steaming them?”

You set the bag down, then eyed the pot and lid, “Would you happen to have one of those steaming baskets? Or do I need to get creative?”

Jean smiled sheepishly, “I’ve got Connie for a roommate. If I was Niccolo I would definitely have one of those, therefore, you’ll have to get creative. But you’re pretty smart, so I believe in you.”

You nodded slowly. That made sense. Jean and Connie were in the same boat as Sasha, Marco and yourself. If you had done more planning for dinner you probably could have worked something else with Niccolo to borrow his cooking supplies. Though you were sure that the guy would say no, as he was pretty particular about his things. Oh well. You’d have to figure something else.

The rest of the preparations went fine, and before you knew it, the two of you were sitting at a dingy table that each dorm room had, making small talk over left over chicken and mid-tier potatoes and broccoli.

“Okay, so I’ll bite. What’s your deal?” Jean asked suddenly, then his eyes went a little wide as he realized the wording of his question, “I mean! Uh…Well-”

You cut him off, easily able to tell what he meant, “Do you mean why do I have no life and only study and do my work alone?”

He melted under your gaze, before nodding slowly, “I meant it a little nicer though.”

“Its okay, I got what you meant…I think.” You set your fork down, suddenly scrutinizing a small crack in your plate.

Jean cleared his throat a bit before speaking again, “It’s just that…you spend so much time studying, and it definitely pays off. I’ve heard from Sasha that you have really good grades. But…”

“But?”

“They worry about you. Sasha and Marco that is…and well, I kind of do too. At least, more now that I know you a little better.”

You don’t respond. He’s going somewhere with this. You can tell by the cadence of his voice, how he seems to be picking his words carefully.

“I think that even just in the past few days, you’ve opened up a lot…I finally got to see you smile.” He paused, “I remember one time last year, in one of our shared classes, I went to see the professor, but you were already there, pleading with him for some extra credit. And when you came out, you look like you had been crying. The next day, I went out of my way to tell you a joke, hoping that maybe you’d smile.”

“I remember that. I told you that I was busy with a make up assignment and ignored you.” You hummed a little, thinking back to Jean back then. His hair was shorter, and he was even more obnoxious that he had been this year. It was one of the few times you had actually spoke to him at the time.

“So…I guess I was just wondering where all this pressure on you comes from?” He fidgets with something in his hands. Like when he’s focusing on his work. You’ve seen it countless times in the past, you just never thought about it until now.

With a sigh, you resign yourself to telling him a little bit about yourself, “I’ve lived here my whole life. And my whole life, I’ve basically been alone. Friends were hard to come by, especially after I decided that all I wanted to do was leave. So, with no one to hold me back, as long as I finish college strong, I can leave and go anywhere I want. I have to do this. Staying here is out of the question…” You trailed off, thinking about how you had never truly said these words out loud.

“But?” He spoke softly, as if he could tell that you had been battling with yourself on what you truly wanted. He stared at you, not through you as most other people did. Your heart sped up. What were you supposed to say now? You had only started to question your aspirations because of him. And you absolutely would not be sharing that thought now.

“But nothing. I meant what I said. I’m getting out of this hell and I’m not looking back. Ever.” you spat the words out, a sudden low and hollow feeling settling in your stomach. What were you doing? A small voice in the back of your head answered that question for you. The same one that you let control most of your college days. You were wasting time, you had assignments to do and a degree to work towards.

You moved to stand suddenly. “I have to go…I forgot that I’m supposed to meet with Armin tomorrow. I should really make sure that I’m ready to show him my part..and yours too.” You grabbed your backpack, and escaping out into the hall.

You stood there quietly, chest moving up and down as you took in harsh breaths, not entirely sure why you did all of that. With a shake of your head you made the journey back to your own dorm, not bothering to take off your shoes at the door like you normally did, instead you merely trudged into your room, tossing your bag onto the ground by your desk, and finding a seat on the edge of your bed.

“Are you okay?” Your freckled friend spoke up, nearly giving you a heart attack in the process. You hadn’t even noticed that he was home.

You didn’t answer. Instead, tears began to fill your eyes. He was by your side in an instant, arms wrapping around you carefully. Muffled sobs wracked your body. With each one Marco only hugged you a little tighter. He let you cry until you were done.

“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.” The words fell from your lips, and you couldn’t stop what came after them, “This whole time i’ve had one goal; to graduate with soaring grades, and to leave. Make as few friends as possible so that way I wouldn’t get distracted…and so that leaving would be easier.”

“What changed then?” Marco asked, his voice soft and careful. You got the feeling that he already knew the answer.

“Jean. Jean crashed into my life and ruined my plans. I haven’t even really known him that long and suddenly I’m throwing away school just to hang out with him. I haven’t been studying the same way I used to, instead I’m playing volleyball with him, and he’s holding my hand as we run away. I’m sitting with him by that old tree and thinking about him instead of the words on my papers. I’m cooking with him and thinking about how muchI want to do it all again.” Your words are quiet, but Marco hears them all the same.

“You do know that those don’t have to be bad things, right?” He lets you go, taking a moment to scoot away ever so slightly, making you look up at his face, where a small smile rests, “It’s been nice to see you let loose. And I know that you’ve been enjoying yourself.”

You attempt to frown, “Thats not true.”

A beat passes and you speak again, “Okay. Maybe a little…but I-”

“No. No buts. You are the hardest working person I know. You are smart and you always apply yourself to your work. You are doing amazing. It’s time that you see that for yourself. You will finish school, and you will be able to go out into the world and do whatever you want to do, but that doesn’t mean you have to wait to have any of that fun. You deserve to enjoy your life, the one right now in the present that you are living, okay?”

His words played on repeat in your mind a few times, you tried to interalize them, make them into your own instead of letting that voice shoo them away.

“Okay.” You nodded, then brought a hand up to your face, covering your mouth for a moment, “I left Jean.”

“What?”

“We were eating dinner and talking and then I got upset and I just…I just left. “

Marco pursed his lips, nodding slightly as he tried to imagine the scene. Jean sitting alone at his table, probably confused and wondering what he did wrong. “Well…theres only so much you can do about that, which I suggest texting him. Let him know that you’re alright, and just so that the poor guy doesn’t overthink, that he didn’t cause you to run off.”

You nodded, “Right. Okay. I can do that.”

It grew quiet between you and Marco, though it didn’t last very long. There was a light tone in his voice, one he used when he wanted to tease someone without making them aware of it, though you had learned to recognize it fairly well.

“So, I’m assuming that you like Jean…at least a little bit.”

“Okay. Get off my bed. This moment is over.” You push him gently, facing away from Marco.

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Oh would you look at the time? I should really head to bed, okay goodnight Marco, get off my bed.”

He laughed, and did as you said, letting you have the room so you could change, “goodnight lovebird.”

Ignoring him as best as you could, you changed quickly, and crawled right back into your bed, under the safety of your comforter. Once there, you pulled out your phone, fingers trembling as you brought up the chat with Jean.

You stared at it for a moment. The last messages were from earlier this day. He hadn’t said anything since then.

Slowly you typed out an apology. “Hey Jean, I’m really sorry for just bailing earlier. Super not cool of me.”

You groaned at the words, quickly backspacing and starting again. “Sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to just leave you there. I promise things are fine. It wasn’t you, or the food for that matter.”

You hit send, not giving yourself time to overthink the text any longer.

Fairly quick after your message had been sent, Jean had already replied. “Its okay! You had me worried for a minute there. Thought maybe the food tasted so bad that you just had to leave to get an actual five star dinner.”

He was being courteous. Trying to keep the conversation light as to not scare you off again.

Your fingers flew across the keyboard once more, “Let me make it up to you. Friday, 11am, at the museum.”

“You really don’t have to make anything up to me, I get it.”

“Jean. Just let me feel bad and try to make it up. Or else I will think about this all night.”

His next message wasn’t exactly what you thought he’d say…or actually, it was exactly what he would say, “Oh, so if I don’t let you have your way, you will be up all night…thinking about me?”

“No.” You hit send. Then sent another message, “Ykw nevermind. I’m not sorry. Be on time friday or else.”

He was quick to shoot back another response, “Okay fine. Make it up to me.”

Then another message, “How do you plan on doing that anyways?”

“You’ll see. Be patient.”

It wasn’t long after that did you eventually fall asleep. The next day was pretty uneventful. Your meeting with Armin was fine, as the guy already had about half of the presentation outline done, and with all of the information and other necessary work that you had gathered, Armin would most likely have the whole thing done by the time he went to bed that night.

The rest of the day passed quickly, almost too quickly for your liking. Before you knew it, your alarm was going off, signalling that it was ten twenty-five in the morning.

You had spent some time the day before thinking of how to make up for ditching Jean the other night, and finally settled on an idea. Said idea was currently sitting on your desk, inside a plastic bag.

You gave it a quick look before climbing out of your bed, moving to your dresser to get ready for the day.

You had just thrown on your shoes, sparing a glance at your phone to the time. It was eleven. You were going to be late. Of course after all that talk to Jean about being on time, you were going to be running behind this time. You could only imagine what he would have to say about it.

You hurriedly grabbed the bag from your desk, and shoved your phone into you pocket after sending yet another apology to Jean.

The trip to the museum took about twenty minutes with public transport. It was eleven twenty-three and you had finally made it to the museum doors.

Jean was standing just to the right of them, staring down at his phone, his back to you. You watched as he brought his phone to his ear, and smiled slightly as your phone buzzed in your pocket.

You let it ring. Walking up and tapping his shoulder a few times. “Sorry I’m late.”

He spun around, eyes landing on your form. His mouth hung up for a moment before he hung up the phone call, “Is this to get back at me for the other day?”

“No…I just slept past my first alarm.”

“Oh so when you’re late its okay but when I’m late its the worst thing ever.”

You shrugged slightly, “I at least texted you in advance.” You paused, then remembered the bag you were holding, “Oh…um. I got you this. To make up for bailing.”

He eyed the bag suspiciously, “I thought I told you not to worry about it.”

“I worried about it. Now just say thanks and take the bag from me.” You rushed the words out, holding it out to him, “No refunds so you have to keep it.”

His fingers deftly took the plastic handles from you, and reached inside the bag. You watched quietly as he lifted the gift out, eyes softening as he realized what it was.

“You bought me a new sketchbook?” He hummed a little, looking at the cover for a few moments, “This is a really nice brand too. I’ve always wanted to try it out.”

“Your other one looked a little full the other day…so I figured I could afford a nice one to say that I’m sorry. “

Jean let the sketchbook slide back into the bag, “Well…thank you. I really appreciate this.” He toed something on the ground, eyes unable to find yours.

You instead took this moment to find the exhibit tickets on your phone, nudging him slightly, “Let’s get going, there’s a couple of pieces I think we should look at specifically.”

Once inside, you took a few moments to study the map of the place, trying to figure out which hall you needed to go to, before Jean took your hand in his, face a little flushed as he did so.

“I come here pretty often, most of the new exhibits are near the back on the first floor.” He said, pulling you along with him.

It wasn’t too crowded, and as most museums were, it was quiet. A nice solitude for those who liked to hide away from the world, and find new ones in the art and historical pieces sheltered there.

When the both of you made it to the exhibit, you found that you were the only ones there. Meaning that you could stare at the art as long as you needed. Which you did. Slowly you let Jean’s hand slip from yours.

You hadn’t thought about seeing the art in real life, and how much it would effect you. Entrap you in every single paint stroke, every single carving of marble. It was beautiful. Clearly the story that was assigned to you had meant a lot the various artists.

You found Jean staring at a drawing. It was mostly in charcoal, though some color had been added here and there, giving the piece whimsical dimension. It looked to be a tree. A large, barren tree in a valley of never ending sand. From the branches, blue and green spilled out across the paper, spanning what would be the sky.

“You like this one?” You asked with a hush, not wanting to startle him.

He nodded, “It’s simple, but I just know that the artist put a lot of work into it. Every line is purposeful. And we will never truly know what it means.” He responded, eyes traveling down to the plaque, where it read the piece’s title, “Paths.” With an unnamed author.

You let him look at the drawing for as long as he needed. You wandered to a sculpture on display a few steps to the right. It seemed to be one of the titans depicted in the story. Creme colored marble in the form of a woman, skeletal mouth open in what the book claimed to be a war cry. There were ribs formed around her abdomen. Her hand outstretched towards the open air. From this perspective, despite the lack of facial features, the statue almost looked sad. A women with an extraordinary ability, forced to use it for harm, all because she was in love with the wrong person. At least, that’s what you wanted to think. You were sure that others in your class thought the opposite. Which of course was exactly what your analysis was going to focus on.

You studied it for a few more moments, before looking away, finding Jean now standing across the room, in front of another painting. You moved to stand next to him, looking at what held his attention.

It was of a starry night sky, bathed in dark blues and purples. Underneath, was a lone pig in a field, head faced towards the grass.

“This is what started the book, right?” You asked, watching as he nodded once.

“But that’s not what i’m thinking about.”

“Then what’s going on in your mind?”

Jean looked back to you, smiling sideways, “Why did you wait the other night, at the field? I figured that you were waiting for a star, but why?”

You brought your eyes back to the painting, looking from the dark green grass, to the pig that was grazing on it peacefully, then to a star painted to be the brightest one there.

“When I was younger, I used to stand outside, or at my window, and just wait. As soon as I saw the first star of the night, I made a wish on it.” You paused, thinking back on your childhood, “I used to wish for a friend, or someone more than that. I was pretty lonely as a kid. Eventually I started wishing for a future other than that…and then, I stopped wishing. I still would wait for the star, but I made sure that I wasn’t relying on a ball of gas in the sky to make my wishes come true.”

“I’d say that they came true then.” Jean turned his body to face yours, looking down towards you, some thought dancing in his eyes.

You mimicked his motion, allowing yourself to face him fully, “And what makes you say that?”

“You’ve made two whole friends.”

“I’ve made three.” You corrected him softly, thinking back to your first conversation about it with him, “Sasha and Marco are very nice people who I like a lot.” You state matter of factly.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “And the third? Don’t tell me it’s Floch…or even worse, Eren.”

“Mmm close. It’s you.”

He places a hand to his heart, dramatic words escaping him, “How long have I waited for you to realize that you and I are friends.”

“You’re still horribly pleasant.” You remark, shaking your head, “Maybe I should take it back about being friends.”

“Too late, you already said it. No refunds.” He drew closer to you, enough to where you could feel his warmth. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Isn’t that technically already a question?” You pause, then nod to him, “But, yeah, go for it.”

“When you graduate, and leave this town. Will you forget about your friends?”

You hesitate. You knew that he wasn’t really asking about Marco or Sasha. You can feel your stomach flip over a few times, that annoying feeling of nervousness that came whenever you thought about Jean.

“No. I wont. How could I?” Your words seem to have some sort of effect on Jean, as he dodesn’t speak. You continue, trying to pick your words carefully, “When it comes to you, specifically you…I would have one hell of a time forgetting you, Jean.”

“I am pretty cool…” He mumbles, then swallows his pride, “But, what if I don’t want you to remember me?”

You tilt your head to the side, giving him a confused look, but still allowing him to continue.

“I just mean…what if I want to be remembered as not just a friend. As more than that?”

He locks eyes with you, his face serious as he waits for you to say something, to say anything really.

You swear that your heart stops beating altogether. It wasn’t one sided. You thought back to your conversation with Marco from two nights before. You deserved this. Deserved to enjoy yourself. To let yourself live a little.

“I think i’d like that.” You smile warmly, “Because I like you Jean. I tried really hard not to, but I do. And maybe, just maybe I don’t want to look back on college and only remember you as a friend.” You pause, taking in a small breath and willed yourself to finish your thought, “Maybe, after I graduate, we both can look back on the time. Together.”

“So, you don’t want to skip town and never look back?” he asks

“Skip town? Still do, but I can’t afford to ignore my time here.”

“What if I came with you when you leave.” it’s less of a question, and more of an idea.

“Let’s just get to graduation first, Jean.”

He lets out a breathy laugh, nodding as he does, “Got ahead of myself there. But I have one more question.”

You study him for a moment, just as you had been studying the rest of the art in the museum. “You know, you were only supposed to ask one question anyways.”

“Last one, I promise.”

“Okay, okay, what is it?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You’re suddenly all too aware of the small gap in your bodies, and his baited breath, and the sensation in your stomach that feels less like churning water and more like butterflies floating around blooming flowers. You hardly hear yourself tell him yes.

The stiffness leaves Jean’s body, and he brings his hand free from the plastic bag up to your face, cupping your cheek lightly. His hand is warm, but not as warm as your flushed face is. His thumb moves back and forth slightly as he pulls you to him. His lips are soft, and you can feel his lashes flutter against your cheek. You easily find it in you to move in sync with him, allowing yourself to lean into the kiss, a small smile finding its way onto your face.

He lets you pull away first. And for a moment all the two of you can do is stand there. You’re sure that you could stand there all day with him.

You let him speak first.

“So, am I still horrible?”

“Horribly, yet pleasantly charming. Yes.”

#jean attack on titan #jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan #aot #aot fic #aot x reader #jean kirschtein #jean kirschtein fic

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