#like seriously how did we live without them for so long

[atinyjules]

Match Made in 'Why Not?' Ft. Best Friend!Jo

A/n: Don't ask. Idk how the title came about 😭 I wrote that cause I'm simply running out of good ideas.

Genre: Matchmaker au, bestfriends-to-lovers, fluff, romance

Pairings: bestfriend!Jo x matchmaker!Eri (fem oc)

Warnings: None really

“Jo!” Mrs. Aoyama greeted as she opened the door, stepping aside to let him in. “She’s still asleep, as usual.”

Jo smiled, already kicking off his shoes like it was second nature. “Of course she is.”

He didn’t need an invitation. He never did. Their moms had been best friends since college, and Jo and Eri had practically been raised in each other’s houses. He knew where the mugs were, what time the hot water took to boil, and which floorboard in the hallway creaked. At this point, her house felt as much his as his own.

“She was up late with that group project,” her mom added, waving him down the hall. “Go wake her up. And don’t be too soft—she’ll just go right back to sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jo said with a grin, heading down the familiar hallway.

Eri’s bedroom door was cracked open. He pushed it gently and peeked in.

There she was—dead asleep, sprawled diagonally across the bed with her hair in a wild mess and her arm hanging off the side. A quiet snore escaped her lips.

He laughed softly to himself. “Unbelievable.”

Without hesitation, he walked over and jumped onto the bed beside her, making the mattress bounce.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he said, nudging her shoulder. “We have class.”

Eri groaned, curling into herself. “I’m tired. Go without me.”

Jo sat up and yanked the blanket off her in one motion. “Nope. You promised me pudding today. Not risking you ghosting me.”

She cracked one eye open, glaring at him halfheartedly. “You’re seriously waking me up for pudding?”

“You said you’d buy it. That makes it legally binding.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“And yet,” he grinned, “you still love me.”

She mumbled something into the pillow.

He nudged her again, gentler this time. “Come on. Campus needs its sweetheart. Let’s go look good in lecture together.”

Jo chuckled as she finally shifted, holding out her hand toward him without even lifting her head.

“Help me up,” she muttered, eyes still half-closed.

He rolled his eyes but took her hand anyway, tugging her upright. “Drama queen,” he teased.

“Loyal servant,” she shot back, smirking sleepily.

She pushed him lightly in the chest. “Now get out so I can change and wash up.”

Jo stood, hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. Try not to fall asleep standing in the shower.”

“Can’t promise that.”

He closed the door behind him and waited in the living room, already scrolling through his phone like this was the most routine part of his day—which, honestly, it kind of was.

Twenty minutes later, Eri emerged—fresh-faced, hair brushed, uniform neat but still giving off that effortlessly sweet vibe she was known for. Jo stood and tossed her something from his jacket pocket.

She caught it instinctively. “Candy?”

“You like those honey ones,” he said casually. “Also,” he added, handing her a canned drink from his other pocket, “thought you might skip breakfast again.”

Eri blinked, then smiled wide. “Thanks.”

He shrugged like it was nothing. “You’d do it for me.”

They walked side by side onto campus, the early sun stretching long shadows behind them. People waved at them as they passed—some calling out to Jo, others to Eri, a few to both. It was like watching the sun and moon stroll in together: perfectly balanced, perfectly unaware of how much they lit up the place.

At the main building, they paused.

“Different classes this morning,” Jo said, stepping back.

“Mm. See you at lunch?”

“Only if you bring pudding.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re so hung up on that.”

“You made a promise,” he grinned. “I’m a man of principle.”

Eri laughed, waving as she turned to go. “See you later, you ridiculous man of principle.”

Jo watched her go, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

He really had no idea when she became his favorite part of every day.

Jo left first, tossing a lazy wave over his shoulder as he headed off toward his building. Eri watched him go for a second longer than necessary before turning toward her own path.

But she barely took two steps before a voice chimed in beside her.

“Excuse me—are you an art major?”

Eri turned and found a girl standing there, dressed in the same uniform but with a perfectly ironed collar and a carefully calculated smile.

“Yup, I am,” Eri replied warmly.

The girl smiled wider. “Great! I thought I recognized your face. I’m Kimiko. I’m new—just transferred here.”

“Oh! Welcome.” Eri’s smile brightened. “I’m Eri. I was just heading to class, we can go together if you want?”

Kimiko’s eyes lit up. “I’d love that.”

They started walking down the path that curved toward the art building, the morning light cutting through the trees overhead.

“So,” Kimiko said casually, “the guy you were talking to just now—who is he? Your boyfriend?”

Eri blinked, then laughed. “No, no. That’s Jo. He’s my best friend.”

“Ah,” Kimiko said, nodding slowly. “Makes sense. He’s cute.”

Eri smiled at that, brushing some hair behind her ear. “Yeah, he gets that a lot.”

Kimiko glanced sideways at her. “I can see why.”

By the time their first class ended, Eri had already learned a handful of things about Kimiko: she was from another city, liked painting over sketching, preferred green tea to coffee, and had a fondness for romantic movies. She was easy to talk to, polite, and had that kind of quiet, sweet energy that mirrored Eri’s own.

They sat next to each other again in the second class, chatting between notes and laughing softly over the professor's dry jokes. By the time the lunch bell rang, Kimiko was already linking their arms like they'd known each other for longer than just a morning.

“Want to eat together?” Kimiko asked hopefully.

Eri smiled. “Sure. I usually eat with Jo and our friends though—they might already be waiting at the cafeteria.”

“Even better,” Kimiko said, eyes glinting with something Eri didn’t quite catch. “I’d love to meet more people.”

—

Meanwhile, in another building on campus…

Jo slung his bag over one shoulder, grinning as he waved goodbye to a few classmates. “Later, guys.”

He was already checking his phone as he headed toward the cafeteria. No texts from Eri, but that wasn’t unusual. She probably got caught up chatting or sketching again. Still, he picked up his pace a little. Lunch with her was the best part of his day.

“Jo!” a voice called behind him.

He turned to see Taki jogging over, Harua trailing right behind with his usual calm expression.

“Hey,” Jo greeted, bumping fists with Taki.

“Heading to the cafeteria?” Harua asked.

“Yup. You guys coming?”

“Yeah,” Taki said, then casually added, “I saw Eri with another girl earlier.”

Jo raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Must be a new friend.”

“She was kinda clingy,” Taki added, making a vague gesture. “New girl. Brown hair, pretty smile.”

Harua gave Jo a side glance. “That your type?”

Jo shrugged. “I don’t really have one.”

But his mind wandered anyway—Eri had made a new friend? That was good. He smiled faintly to himself.

๋ ࣭ ⭑

The cafeteria was already buzzing when Jo and the guys stepped in, the smell of curry rice and fried chicken hanging in the air. As they wove through the crowd, Jo’s gaze swept toward their usual corner—and paused.

There she was.

Eri, waving brightly with her usual lunch tray in front of her, but not alone.

Next to her sat the girl Taki had mentioned—Kimiko. Pretty, polished, and smiling just a little too perfectly.

“Huh?” Jo muttered under his breath, slowing his steps.

Taki and Harua noticed it too.

“She’s already sitting with her,” Harua noted.

Jo frowned slightly. Lunch was… their thing. Their circle was small—tight-knit. Familiar. Eri, him, Taki, Harua, and sometimes Maki when he wasn’t running across campus for lab work. And now, suddenly, there was a new face in their spot.

Eri waved again as they approached. “You’re here!”

Taki and Harua slid into their usual spots across from her. Jo took the seat next to Eri, slower than usual.

“I was waiting for you,” she said with a smile, grabbing her wallet. “I’ll go get your pudding now.”

Before she got up, she gestured to the girl beside her. “This is Kimiko. She’s new, we’re in the same classes. Be nice, okay?”

And with that, she was off toward the vending machines, leaving the three boys alone with Kimiko.

Kimiko turned to them with a polite smile. “It’s nice to meet you guys. You’re Jo, right?” Her eyes lingered on him just a bit longer than what felt casual. “Eri mentioned you earlier.”

Jo gave her a small nod. “Yeah. Good to meet you.”

Taki leaned his chin into his hand, watching her. “I’m Taki. That’s Harua.”

“Nice to meet you too,” she said, but again, her gaze drifted quickly back to Jo.

Taki’s brows furrowed slightly. Her tone was sweet, but there was something in the way she said Jo’s name. Too light, too focused—like she was playing a part, trying to make a good impression… on one person specifically.

Harua stayed silent, just watching with that unreadable calm of his.

Jo, on the other hand, didn’t say much either. He wasn’t exactly rude, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

He was happy Eri had made a friend. He really was.

He just… didn’t want everything to change.

Turns out, Jo was completely wrong.

Because in the following weeks, Kimiko didn’t just hover around Eri—she infiltrated.

She was at their lunch table almost every day now, always perched a little too close, always laughing a little too loudly at Jo’s dry jokes, and always offering to help plan every group meet-up like she'd been part of the crew for years.

"Should we do karaoke this weekend? Or a beach trip! Ooh, maybe something overnight?" she chirped one lunch, already pulling up a group chat she had somehow gotten herself added into.

Jo sipped his drink and said nothing, gaze fixed on the way Kimiko subtly cut off Eri when she was about to suggest something quieter. Eri just smiled, as always, giving way with that sweet, selfless grace that made Jo’s jaw tighten.

He hated it.

Kimiko was like a pebble in his shoe—small enough to seem harmless, but always there.

And the others felt it too.

It was during a rare boys-only weekend at Taki’s place—pizza boxes stacked high and a video game paused on screen—when the truth finally cracked through the surface.

Harua had been silent for a while before speaking.

“I don’t like her,” he said simply, tossing a controller aside.

Jo looked up. “Who?”

“Kimiko.”

Taki leaned back on the couch, folding his arms. “Finally. I thought it was just me.”

“She always talks like she’s in charge,” Harua added. “And she’s always trying to isolate Eri. You noticed that?”

Jo had. All too clearly.

Taki groaned. “And she acts fake as hell around you, Jo. It’s like she only acknowledges the rest of us when you’re not paying attention.”

Jo stayed quiet, chewing the inside of his cheek.

It wasn’t just them either.

Even Maki—who was rarely around due to his demanding major —had muttered the same thing when he dropped by during a group hangout last week.

“Something’s off about that girl,” he’d said under his breath while grabbing a soda from the fridge. “She’s all smiles but it feels… staged. I don’t like it.”

And now here they were, all four of them in silent agreement.

Jo didn’t say it out loud, but a part of him hated how easy it had been for Kimiko to slip into their circle. How she seemed to understand exactly how to move around Eri—never obviously rude, but just subtle enough to chip away at their rhythm.

He missed how it used to be.

Before things got noisy.

Before things got… complicated.

—

The morning sun filtered through the trees as Eri and Kimiko strolled down the path toward the art building. Their bags hung loosely on their shoulders, the air filled with casual conversation about class deadlines and which vending machine had the best sandwiches.

Then, just as they passed the fountain, Kimiko slowed her steps and glanced at Eri, her voice dropping slightly.

“Hey… can I tell you something?”

Eri turned her head. “Sure.”

Kimiko gave a shy little smile, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “I think Jo might like me.”

Eri blinked. “Huh?”

Her mind stumbled. That thought had never—ever—crossed her mind. Jo? Liking Kimiko?

It didn’t fit. It didn’t feel right.

But before she could even form a response, Kimiko pressed on.

“I mean, the way he looks at me sometimes? And how he listens when I talk, even if he doesn’t say much. I just… I feel it, you know?”

Eri opened her mouth to speak, but Kimiko kept going, her voice turning almost giddy.

“And I was thinking… you’re his best friend. He listens to you. Maybe you could help me out? Just a little. Drop a hint? Bring me up in conversation?”

Eri hesitated, smile wavering for the first time.

She didn’t know what to say.

Because her first thought—instinctively—was no, he didn’t like Kimiko. Not like that. Not even close. Jo had always been polite, but distant. Guarded. Especially around people he didn’t click with.

But then again… what did she know?

Maybe she was just biased. Maybe she didn’t want to see it.

Kimiko’s eyes sparkled with expectation. “Please, Eri? You’d know if he likes someone, right?”

Eri hesitated—then nodded.

“Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll… I’ll try.”

Because Jo was her person. Her ride-or-die. If he really did like Kimiko—if there was even the slightest chance—then who was she to stand in the way of his happiness?

Even if the idea left a weird feeling in her chest.

Even if Kimiko’s eagerness felt just a little too sharp, a little too rushed.

She smiled anyway, pushing the discomfort down.

“Sure. I’ll help.”

๋ ࣭ ⭑

The sun was beginning to dip as Jo and Eri walked side by side down the familiar path toward the parking lot. The air smelled faintly of cut grass, and their shadows stretched long behind them. Eri’s steps were light, like she was excited about something, while Jo just carried both their bags like he always did when she was too tired to argue.

“You know,” Eri started, swinging her arms a little. “I was thinking about something today.”

Jo glanced at her, brow lifting slightly. “Yeah?”

“Kimiko,” she said brightly.

Immediately, Jo’s shoulders tensed—but he said nothing.

“She’s really pretty,” Eri went on, smiling. “Smart, confident, stylish… Honestly, she’s perfect for you.”

Jo blinked. “Huh?”

She nodded, looking completely sincere. “Like, I don’t know why I didn’t think about it before. You two would look great together. And she really seems into you.”

He didn’t say anything.

Because what could he say? His chest felt tight and his jaw ticked slightly, but he kept his expression as neutral as ever.

“Eri…” he started, but she kept going, so hopeful it made his stomach twist.

“And I think… maybe you should go on a date with her?”

Jo stopped walking.

Eri took a few steps before realizing and turned to face him.

“What?” she asked, confused.

He scratched the back of his neck, eyes cast slightly downward. “You think I should… date Kimiko?”

Eri looked at him with a bright, encouraging smile. “Yeah! I mean, she’s into you, and you’re both great people. It’s worth a shot, right?”

For a second, Jo said nothing.

Then he forced a tiny, crooked smile—one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“…Right,” he said quietly. “If you think so.”

Because if she was this sure—if Eri thought he and Kimiko would work—then who was he to argue?

Even if his heart was screaming no.

Even if the idea of going on a date with Kimiko made him feel nothing but… off.

Even if every time he pictured “the perfect girl,” it wasn’t Kimiko at all.

It was the one currently smiling at him like she didn’t even know she already had his whole heart.

๋ ࣭ ⭑

Jo hated everything about today.

From the moment he stepped into the cafeteria, Kimiko had latched onto his arm like a vine. Her fingers were looped around his wrist like she owned it, and her laugh was loud—too loud—as she leaned into him with every step.

She’d said something about his hair looking "hot like that" and then ranted for a good ten minutes about how they should totally go to the movies sometime—"just us"—while Jo internally begged the universe for mercy.

What he hated more?

The fact that Eri, Taki, and Harua had all mysteriously decided to leave them alone today.

She made this happen.

He sat across from Kimiko now, trying to focus on his food, nodding at her nonstop chatter about how they’d make such a good couple and how people already assumed they were dating. Her knee kept brushing his under the table.

He wanted to be anywhere but here.

—

Meanwhile, on the bleachers by the field, Eri sat with her lunch half-eaten beside her as she watched from afar.

Taki popped the cap off his drink and raised an eyebrow. “Why are you playing matchmaker for them?”

Eri exhaled, long and tired. “Maybe Jo wants it?”

Taki snorted. “Yeah. Jo totally looks like he’s loving his life right now.”

Harua let out a low sigh, poking at his bento with a chopstick. “You didn’t answer the real question though.”

Eri blinked. “Which one?”

Taki turned to her fully. “Why are you letting Kimiko boss you around like that?”

Harua nodded. “She’s all over Jo and she talks to you like you’re her assistant.”

Eri waved them off, forcing a small laugh. “You guys are overanalyzing. She’s just… really confident. And I mean, she did say she liked Jo, and I thought maybe he could—”

“Eri,” Taki cut in flatly. “He doesn’t like her.”

Harua nodded again, quietly but firmly. “And she doesn’t treat you like a friend. She treats you like a tool.”

Eri’s shoulders stiffened at that, the words settling heavy in her chest.

She looked back toward the cafeteria windows, where she could barely make out Jo’s silhouette. He was leaning slightly away from Kimiko, face turned to the side like he was anywhere but there.

Her stomach twisted.

And for the first time since this all started, doubt crept in.

—

After classes, the sky was turning a dusty orange as Eri and Jo walked together, her steps slower than usual. There was a quiet tension hanging between them, the kind that came not from anger but uncertainty.

“Hey,” she said, finally breaking the silence.

Jo glanced over. “Hm?”

“I wanted to ask you something.” She looked ahead, biting her lip. “Do you really… like Kimiko? Or are you just going along with it because I said something?”

Jo blinked, caught off guard. His heart gave a small thump at the way her voice held genuine concern.

“I just…” she trailed off. “I feel like I’m forcing you or something. And that’s not fair.”

Jo, who would walk through fire if she asked, who could never bring himself to make her feel like she’d done anything wrong—just smiled gently and shook his head.

“No,” he said, voice soft. “You’re not forcing me.”

Eri studied him. She could tell something was off. “You sure? Taki and Harua both said you totally don’t like her.”

Jo scratched the back of his neck, chuckling awkwardly. “They’re just overanalyzing like always.”

That made her smile. “Good. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Jo didn’t say anything to that. He couldn’t. But something about the way her smile calmed him down almost made him believe it was all fine.

Almost.

—

Later that night, curled up at home, Eri was on the phone with Taki and Harua, relaying what Jo had said.

“He said he does like Kimiko,” she told them.

Taki was silent for a moment before scoffing. “He’s totally lying.”

Harua’s voice came next, calm but direct. “Eri, Jo’s always been soft-spoken. You know he’d do anything for you. That’s why he’s saying it.”

Eri opened her mouth to respond, but her phone buzzed with another call.

“It’s Kimiko,” she muttered. “I’ll talk to you guys later.”

—

Switching lines, she greeted, “Hey, Kimiko.”

“Eriii!” Kimiko chirped, loud and sugary. “Omg, Jo is, like, so obsessed with me. He totally didn’t even stop me from holding his arm today. You saw, right?”

Eri blinked. “Uh… yeah.”

“So!” Kimiko continued in a rush. “You have to set up a date for us. Tomorrow. I want something cute and spontaneous!”

Eri hesitated. “But… we have class tomorrow and he doesn't like missing class.”

Kimiko pouted through the phone. “But Eri… You know how important this is to me. Don’t you want me to be happy? You’re the only one who really understands.”

Eri felt her resolve waver, Kimiko’s tone slipping between whiny and guilt-trippy so smoothly she didn’t even register it.

“…Okay,” she said quietly. “I’ll set something up.”

“Yay! I knew I could count on you! You're seriously the best.”

The line cut.

—

Back on the phone with Taki and Harua, Eri sighed and explained what happened.

“You agreed?” Taki said flatly. “We have class tomorrow.”

“She really wanted to,” Eri mumbled, twirling the phone cord. “And maybe Jo will like it too.”

“You’re doing a lot of ‘maybe’s for a guy who clearly doesn’t want this,” Taki muttered.

“Seriously,” Harua added. “You’re smart, Eri. Don’t let her wrap you around her finger just because she talks fast and acts sweet. She’s not your friend.”

Eri stared at the ceiling, suddenly unsure all over again.

“…But I already told her I’d do it.”

—

Eri sat cross-legged on her bed, phone pressed to her ear, nervously twirling a strand of her hair.

“I, um… talked to Kimiko,” she said gently.

“Yeah?” Jo’s voice came through, a little wary.

“She wants to go out with you tomorrow. Like… a real date.”

Jo was quiet. Horribly quiet. On his side of the line, his heart sank to his stomach.

“Jo,” she said quickly, “you don’t have to. I told her you have class. I told her you probably wouldn’t want to. I said—”

“I’ll go,” he interrupted, and his tone was light, almost casual.

But his hands were clenched into fists in his lap.

“You… sure?” she asked, her voice unsure. “I mean, I know this is sudden, and you don’t even know her that well, and—”

“I’m sure,” he said, even though he wasn’t. Not at all. But on the other end of the line, he could already picture her sad eyes and that soft guilt-ridden smile she always wore when she thought she’d done something wrong.

That image alone was enough to crush his reluctance.

“If you say it’ll be good for me, then I’ll go,” he added.

Eri’s heart softened. “...Okay.”

—

The next morning felt off.

Her mom didn’t knock on her door and call out, “Jo’s here!” like she usually did.

No Jo slipping into her room without ceremony, no warm “Hey, sleepyhead, we have class” from the edge of her bed.

The silence echoed louder than any alarm clock.

She sat up slowly, blinking at the empty space beside her. It was strange—unfamiliar, almost cold. Her routine, the one she’d known since forever, was broken. And it felt heavier than she thought it would.

It’s fine, she told herself as she got ready. His happiness comes first. If this date makes him happy, then I should be happy too.

But the smile she forced on her face felt weak, like it could crack at any moment.

—

Walking to college alone was… weirder than she expected.

Every block without Jo beside her felt twice as long. Every corner turned felt like something was missing.

And when she reached campus and entered the building, the absence of his voice, his candy from his jacket, his usual “don’t fall asleep in class” reminder—it all left a hollow ache in her chest.

He’d never missed class before.

We’ve never missed class. Not together, she thought, heart sinking.

As the day dragged on, her mind kept drifting back to everything—the way Jo looked quietly uncomfortable every time Kimiko clung to his arm, how he always had a delayed pause when Kimiko spoke to him directly, and how his smiles never quite reached his eyes anymore.

And Kimiko…

The way she had barged into their lives, full of sparkle and flattery and high-pitched enthusiasm, like she’d always belonged.

The way she’d latched onto Jo the moment she saw him.

The way she’d made Eri her errand girl in a matter of days—asking her to do things, assuming she would, and smiling sweetly even as she talked over her.

Eri stopped mid-step in the corridor.

She remembered how she hadn’t even been the one to offer to help with Jo. Kimiko had asked—no, pushed—for her to do it. And Eri, ever the sweetheart, ever the people-pleaser, had just… gone with it.

Now Jo was missing class. Their routine was broken. And for what?

For a girl who barely knew them, who acted like she owned their friendship from the start.

For the first time, Eri felt a stab of guilt—not over disappointing Kimiko, but over letting it go this far.

Over putting Jo through something he didn’t want.

Over not listening to the part of herself that had known something felt off from the beginning.

And now?

Now it might’ve been too late.

๋ ࣭ ⭑

Jo sat at a corner booth in the café, stirring his drink absently. The ticking clock on the wall felt louder than usual, every passing second dragging the moment closer to the conversation he knew he needed to have.

Just get through it, then tell her. Be honest. Clear. Kind, but firm.

He could hear Eri’s voice in his head—“If you don’t like someone, it’s better to be honest than to lead them on.”

That thought alone made his chest ache. If I was going to skip class for anyone, he thought, it should’ve been Eri. I would’ve actually liked that.

He pictured it: Eri in a cozy cardigan, her hair softly tied up with a little ribbon like she always wore, eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled at the pastries.

That’s a date I’d actually show up early for.

Just then, the bell above the door chimed.

Jo looked up—and any trace of a polite smile instantly vanished from his face.

Kimiko stood at the entrance, waving a little too enthusiastically before making her way over. Her outfit was… suspiciously familiar. A cream-colored blouse with a lace collar, a flared skirt with soft pleats, dainty earrings. Even her hair was done up in a loose ribbon.

Like she had Googled “sweet girl aesthetic” and plastered it on.

Except, on her, it looked try-hard. The lace too stiff, the bow too shiny. It didn’t feel natural. It didn’t feel her.

And worst of all, it was obvious who she was trying to emulate.

Jo’s jaw clenched.

She sat down with a dramatic sigh. “I was so nervous picking this outfit. But I think it turned out cute, right?”

He gave a noncommittal hum and sipped his drink.

As she babbled about how she’d picked a café that matched her “soft aesthetic” and how she loved vintage things “just like Eri,” Jo tuned out.

Because it wasn’t the same.

It wasn’t Eri.

Eri’s softness wasn’t a costume. She wasn’t trying to look sweet—she was sweet. She didn’t talk about matching the energy of a café, she just quietly brought warmth into every room she entered.

Kimiko felt like she was playing a role.

Jo stared down at the table, a small frown forming.

He didn’t want this.

He didn’t want this at all.

His thoughts drifted again—to Eri sleeping, half-buried in her blanket. Eri handing him candy from her bag with a proud grin. Eri waving at him across campus like he was the most important person in her world.

She was his favorite. He’d just never said it out loud.

Jo was just about to speak, carefully planning how to reject Kimiko when she started laughing.

"Honestly," she said with a wave of her hand, “don’t take this the wrong way, but how did Eri even get into this college? I mean, her art is like... kindergarten level. Maybe they just needed someone sweet and basic to fill in a quota or something.”

Jo froze.

His hand, resting on the table, curled into a fist.

“…What?”

Kimiko giggled like she hadn’t just committed social suicide. “Oh, don’t look so offended! I’m just joking—c’mon, you know I like Eri! I mean, sure, I’m better at art and obviously more polished, but I’m saying that with love.”

She smiled, proud of her backhanded ‘compliment.’

Jo stared at her for a moment.

Did she not realize?

Did she seriously not realize who she was talking to?

He leaned forward slightly, voice cold. “Are you seriously backbiting about Eri... to me?”

Kimiko blinked. “What? I—”

“Her best friend since before we could even speak. You’re sitting here bad-mouthing the person I’ve literally grown up with. The girl I’ve known and protected since we were in diapers. And you’re mocking her to me?”

The café went quiet. A few heads turned. Kimiko shifted uncomfortably in her seat, eyes darting.

“Jo, people are looking—”

“Let them,” he snapped. “Maybe they should see what kind of person you really are.”

She gasped slightly, caught off-guard, but he wasn’t done.

“Eri’s not a joke. You are. And since we’re being honest now,” he said, voice rising, “let’s talk about how you walked in here today dressed like you’re cosplaying as her. That blouse, the ribbon in your hair, the whole vintage 'sweet girl' act—it's not you. It’s her. But she doesn’t have to try. Eri’s always dressed like that, because it’s who she is. Not because she’s trying to impress anyone.”

Kimiko’s face paled.

Jo stood now, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. “You keep saying you’re prettier than her. Funny—Eri walks around with barely any makeup and still looks better than anyone else I know. You? You’re caked in it and still can't come close.”

Kimiko let out a weak laugh. “You’re being dramatic.”

He ignored it. “And don’t even get me started on art. You think you're better than her? Your art looks like you're trying to copy every trending style on the internet and failing. You wouldn’t know originality if it slapped you across the face. Eri’s work has soul. It’s hers. It’s real. And if anyone should be asking how they got into this school, it’s you. Because your work? It’s like a sixth grader who discovered watercolor last week.”

Kimiko sat there, stunned and humiliated.

Jo grabbed his bag. “I’m done. I don’t ever want to see you again. And if I do—if you so much as breathe near Eri again—I’ll make sure you regret it.”

With that, he turned and walked out of the café without another glance back, the door swinging shut behind him.

And for the first time since Kimiko showed up in their lives, Jo felt like he could finally breathe again.

๋ ࣭ ⭑

Jo ran like he was being chased by a swarm of bees—emotionally deranged bees that smelled like disappointment and wore tacky knock-off Eri outfits.

He burst into the art block like an unhinged wind, ignoring the janitor’s startled "Whoa!" and zigzagged through the corridor like it was a mission. His heart only settled when he saw the warm yellow glow of the studio light filtering through the open door.

There. Clay. Apron. Calm. Eri.

He nearly cried.

“Oh thank God,” he exhaled dramatically, stepping in like a man crawling out of a war zone.

She turned with a blink, hands covered in clay, expression confused. “Jo? What are you doing here?”

“Emergency,” he declared, walking in like he owned the studio. “There was a threat to my peace, my dignity, and also fashion as a concept.”

She raised a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?”

“You don’t have class?” he asked, totally ignoring the question.

“Not till later,” she said, sitting back from the clay. “So I’m just winging it here. Why are you panting like you’ve been chased?”

“Okay, so you’re winging it. Meanwhile, I was experiencing the slow death of my soul via Kimiko. I deserve compensation. And maybe cake.”

He flopped onto the stool beside her and began his tirade.

“She. Is. The. Worst.”

Eri just blinked, clearly bracing herself.

“First off, she kept calling me ‘Jojo.’” He shuddered like the name physically hurt him. “Like some kind of fluffy pocket-sized anime mascot. I’m not a plushie, Eri. I’m a man with dignity. I deserve respect.”

Eri snorted. “Jojo.”

“Don’t,” he warned. “Don’t make me fling this clay.”

“And she wouldn’t stop touching me. Like full-on glue-mode. Arm-clutching, shoulder-bumping, breathing-in-my-airspace level of physical harassment. I nearly evaporated.”

He put a hand over his chest like a dramatic heroine. “And she talked. Like, all date long. About smoothies. And outfits. And how we’re meant to be and how we should ‘double-date with you and someone hot’ and I was like??? First of all, rude. Second of all, if I double-date it better be with you and snacks.”

Eri opened her mouth but he kept going.

“And then—the final straw—she started bashing you. Said your art wasn’t even that good and wondered out loud how you even got into this college. TO. ME.”

Eri’s face dropped.

Jo stood up, pacing in front of her like he was giving a monologue on stage. “I was like, are you seriously badmouthing Eri, the person I’ve known since I was a drooling goblin in preschool? Eri, who I’ve shared crayons, ice cream, and literal hospital socks with? You’re trash-talking her to me?? You must have glue in your brain.”

He waved a hand dramatically. “She was like, ‘I’m just joking.’ Oh yeah? Well I’m just never speaking to you again. Because Eri is not a joke. You are. You’re the cosplay version of her, and not even good cosplay. You look like if someone tried to draw Eri from memory and failed.”

Eri laughed out loud at that one.

“And don’t even get me started on her makeup—look, no shame in some contour, but I swear she had enough on to frost a wedding cake. Meanwhile, you? You walk out the door with nothing but some lip balm and manage to look like a Studio Ghibli protagonist.”

He gave her a meaningful look. “And her art? Pinterest-core. Carbon copy nonsense. Yours is real. Yours has soul. She couldn’t copy you even if she used tracing paper and divine intervention.”

Eri stared at him, speechless.

He suddenly stopped, hands dropping to his sides, completely serious.

“…Wanna date?”

She blinked. “That was the weirdest love confession I’ve ever heard.”

He nodded solemnly. “And yet, somehow, still very me.”

She considered for a moment, the tiniest smirk forming. “Sure. Why not?”

Jo blinked. “Wait, actually?”

“Yeah. Just don’t ever let her call you Jojo again.”

He beamed, collapsing into the stool beside her again like a puppy granted salvation. “Deal, obviously. Jojo is dead even though he was never real. This is Jo 2.0. Officially yours.”

She giggled as he leaned his head against her shoulder, sighing in peace. Everything felt right again.

Almost like it had always been headed here from the start.

—

The day had wound down in that lazy, golden way only late afternoons could manage. After cleaning up at the studio, Jo and Eri met up with Taki and Harua by the campus gates, the sun dipping low behind them.

“Later, losers,” Taki said with a cheeky grin, slapping Jo’s back.

“Yeah, don’t get into trouble, lovebirds,” Harua added with a smirk, hands in his pockets.

Jo rolled his eyes, but didn’t deny anything—he just offered a smug little grin that made both boys groan.

“Ugh. He’s smug now,” Taki muttered. “We should’ve stopped this.”

“Too late,” Harua said as the two walked off, Taki making gagging noises behind them.

Eri and Jo lingered, their steps slower, more relaxed. The air was crisp, cool enough that she folded her arms close to her body. Jo immediately noticed.

“Oi,” he said, slipping off his jacket and gently wrapping it around her shoulders before she could protest.

She blinked, touched. “You’ll be cold.”

“I’m already warm from being your boyfriend,” he said, voice annoyingly smug.

She snorted. “Gross.”

“Correct,” he agreed proudly, before slinging his arm around her shoulder in one smooth move, pulling her closer as they walked.

“So,” he said, leaning down a bit so his words hit her ear, teasing and light, “what should we do, girlfriend?”

Eri smiled, her cheeks a little pink—not from the cold. “Hmm… how about ice cream and a movie at my place, boyfriend?”

He grinned like a kid given free reign in a candy store. “You had me at ‘ice cream.’”

They both chuckled, falling into that easy rhythm that only came from years of knowing each other—of growing together, laughing, crying, and finally realizing what had been there all along.

Wrapped in Jo’s jacket and under his arm, Eri felt like everything had finally clicked back into place.

And as they walked home together, with the last of the sun painting the sky in sleepy oranges and pinks, Jo smiled to himself, thinking:

Finally.

That's it for this one!

True story, I actually had a friend like Kimiko. Alot of ger behaviour was inspired by that one bitch. She always thought every boy had a crush on her 😭🤣🤣

Well, I hope y'all liked it 🥹

Likes and rebloggs are appreciated 🩷 ✨️

[sillybearstuff]

A lot's been going on in the Hagino family! We moved to a new house, and had a new baby, Setsuko!

It's pretty chaotic, but I love all my sims so much.

[matt-murdockk]

Statistically Speaking

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

words: 600 words

summary: Spencer thought he was in a long-term relationship— turns out, he forgot to tell her.

warnings: none, babe. this is pure fluff <3

“Come on, man,” Derek said, arms folded as he stared Spencer down across the break room table. “You can’t just read a thousand relationship books and think that’s the same as the real thing.”

Spencer looked up from the folder in his lap, utterly unbothered. “Thirty-nine books. And they’re peer-reviewed studies. It’s not about anecdotes, it’s about data.”

Penelope leaned over her coffee, eyes sparkling. “Oh boy. He’s going full empirical. This should be good.”

“It’s not that I think I understand relationships,” Spencer continued, adjusting his glasses. “It’s just that I recognize functional dynamics when I see them. And I happen to know what one looks like.”

Derek snorted. “Yeah? Like what, The Notebook?”

“No,” Spencer said. “Like me and Y/N.”

There was a beat of silence.

Y/N, seated two chairs down with a half-drunk coffee in her hand, turned very slowly. “I’m sorry, what now?”

Spencer blinked at her like she’d asked if water was wet. “What?”

“What do you mean ‘you and me’?”

He frowned, confused. “I mean us. Our dynamic. It’s a prime example of a healthy relationship.”

Garcia dropped her muffin.

Derek leaned in like he was about to watch a car crash in slow motion. “Go on.”

Spencer tilted his head at Y/N. “You seriously didn’t know?”

She blinked. “Know what exactly?”

“That we’re in a relationship. Or— at least something adjacent to one. I assumed we were both aware of that.”

Y/N stared at him.

Spencer, sensing the disbelief, leaned back in his chair and began to list things off like he was briefing a case. “We text every night before bed. You bring me coffee the way I like it— three sugars, not stirred— almost every day, without asking. I’ve picked you up from the airport twice. You’ve stayed over at my apartment more than once, and you steal my hoodies.”

“That’s just…” She trailed off, looking helplessly at Garcia, who was frozen mid-bite.

Spencer wasn’t done.

“We hold hands when we walk across busy streets. You braid my hair when I’m stressed. I read you poetry once and you cried, which I took as a positive emotional response and not distress.”

Y/N slowly set her coffee down. “Okay.”

“I’ve memorized your Chipotle order,” Spencer added, like that sealed it.

“Okay.”

Spencer leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “We literally hold hands all the time.”

“…Okay, yeah, I see where I went wrong.”

Derek lost it.

Garcia was fanning herself with a napkin, whispering “my stars” under her breath.

Y/N looked like she was debating the moral and logistical weight of throwing herself into the nearest garbage can.

Spencer, meanwhile, just looked vaguely betrayed. “How did you not know?”

She gave him a look. “Because you never said it out loud?”

“I thought it was implied!”

Derek clapped once, loud. “Oh, I live for this.”

Garcia blinked. “Cool, so I’ve been third-wheeling a relationship that wasn’t even technically happening. Love that for me.”

Y/N turned back to Spencer, who was still trying to solve the mystery of how she missed this.

“Are you mad?” she asked.

“No,” he said, after a beat. “Just… surprised. I really thought we were on the same page.”

“Well.” She exhaled, slow and a little amused. “We are now.”

Spencer tilted his head. “Does this mean we’re officially dating?”

Y/N shrugged. “Statistically speaking?”

That got the smallest smile out of him.

“I’ll take it,” he said.

a/n: first spencer fic can i get a whoop whoop (i hope this is good, oh god)

[rin-may-1103]

Aspiring Escape Artist (part two)

Last | Master Post | Next...

"Why don't we all head inside, yes?" Mr. Wayne suggested, waving his arm in the doors general direction.

"Yes, that sounds great," Ms. Clance agreed, turning to Danny like she was debating whether or not she should drag him inside. Danny was very against that idea and glared at her. She huffed but turned and started making her way up the stairs.

The other, he can't really say kids because he's pretty sure half the people standing in front of him were over the age of eighteen, but they still lived with Mr. Wayne, apparently, so kids it was. The other kids continued to try to stealthily watch him as they made their way into the building. (He refused to call this place a house; it was bigger than Sam's manor for Ancients' sake.)

The gray-eyed girl waited for him, the not-so-happy but happy sparkle back as she watched him approach. Pausing for a moment, Danny turned and gently patted the bush closest to him, it had been practically begging for attention for the past ten minutes and Sam would have throttled him if he had just ignored it.

She treated them like demented puppies, and it's against every unspoken law (in danny's books, atleast) to ignore a puppy.

The gray-eyed girl (man, he was going to have to learn their names, Ancients, why were there so many people here?) tilted her head curiously, eyeing the plant he just patted.

"My friend has plant powers," Danny huffed, which was true. Sam still had lingering plant control and a connection to the green because of Undergrowth. Danny was just leaving out the fact that he also had plant powers. He wasn't sure why he always got new powers after beating new powerful ghosts, but it happens, and now he needs to pet the plants because they get sad if he doesn't.

(Jazz theorized once that the new powers were due to his half-a nature, but then they looked at Vlad and decided it was probably something else.) (Also, why in the world did he get ice powers and then almost immediately plant powers? like, seriously, why?)

"Close friend?" Gray asked, turning to follow Danny inside.

"One of my best friends," Danny agreed. Man, he missed them. He'd have to figure out how to get out of here soon; there was no way he was going to just not see his friends on Tucker's birthday. Which meant he had about a week to bust out of here and get back to Amity. Oh, and stay under the radar so Vlad doesn't find him.

Glancing around the entry hall, or was the term foyer? like, the place was fancier then most five star hotels he's seen (which he wants to make clear, was against his dying wishes. fuck vlad and his not hard earned money.) like, sure, it wasn't all white modern minimalist like the hotels, but he's pretty sure the vase just sitting a little too close to the edge of a table was worth more then a human heart on the black market.

"Welcome to Wayne Manor," Mr. Pennyworth started, closing the doors with a heavy thud. He didn't lock it, though, Danny noted. Probably because Ms. Clance still needed to leave.

"may I have your coats?" he asked, holding out his arm to Ms. Clance and looking over to Danny. Ms. Clance immediately started to shrug off her jacket and dropped it onto his arm without a second glance, trying to talk to Mr. Wayne about an office or something.

Danny shook his head, "No thanks. I prefer to keep my things with me." especially in a new place, who knows what they'd do to his stuff. last time he handed anything over it had been locked up and never returned. (or well, not returned until he stole it back right before leaving, but that's getting into semantics.)

"So, Daniel was it?" the older guy from the first three asked, smiling brightly and trying to act casual. He was failing.

"It's Danny," Danny huffed, glancing around to study the others.

Gray was nice, he had a feeling they'd get a long fine. she was like an open book, all her opinions and emotions right there for him to see. Though that just meant she was awear of them and could easily hide them.

The others not so much.

Eyebags looked tired but alert, watching Danny like he was a new puzzle. Which was fine, Danny could deal with that. He probably wasn't as bad as Jazz or his parents were when obsessed with new things, so he goes lower on the list but not off.

Mr. Casual over here was watching him AND the others, which meant he was probably the peacekeeper. That or he was the one who antagonized the others into acting without them noticing. Same as eyebags, then.

Blondie looked like she was planning how to prank him right then and there, but also like she was evaluating him for something. Like he thought earlier, she'll probably stick around until she gets bored. So, hmmm. Keep an eye on more than eyebags, but probably not a problem.

there was a kid maybe two-three years younger than him trying to hide on the stairs out of view, he looked pissed off and annoyed. Something was telling Danny he should stay away from him. So, definitely going to the top of his list right next to butler man.

And finally, Mr. Wayne. He was smiling and chatting with Ms. Clance like he didn't have a care in the world. And it would have been believable if it wasn't for the fact that the man was easily steering the conversation away from the stuff Ms. Clance wanted to talk about, without Danny around, before leaving. Which means Mr. Wayne wanted Danny to be part of the conversation, probably to get both sides of the story.

He was smart and knew how to manipulate situations without people catching on.

Also, top of the list, then.

"Only people who want to kill me call me Daniel," Danny added, watching as Ms. Clance tried to bring up his file and fell for another diversion.

"Really?" Eyebags asked, actually surprised for some reason.

Oh, wait, murder isn't normal. Ha, to live a normal life. It must be boring. Couldn't be him, even if he wanted it. There was nothing normal about growing up with mad scientists, and nothing normal about being half dead and a vigilante.

"Yeah, my friends and I made a chart and everything. Granted, we didn't have many people to add to the list to compare with, but it's checked out so far." Danny admitted, turning to face Eyebags.

Honestly, it was just Vlad, his parents, a few GIW agents, and those very few times his friends almost killed him. But come on, they all called him Daniel at some point. Therefore, it totally checks out.

"Huh," Mr. Casual blinked, glancing at his siblings before shaking his head. "Right, so uh, why do people want to kill you?"

"Because they're Fruit Loops," Danny grumbled, finally deciding to approach Ms. Clance. Might as well get this done and over with. The longer she stayed, the less time Danny would have to scout the place by himself later, after all the introductions.

Next (to be written)

[inkskinned]

no, actually, where is the whimsy?

my ex had a best friend named larry who asked me once: what do you think comes after irony?

we were at the bar where larry worked. it was a quiet night, and he'd hopped over to sit with us on the patron side. i swirled the lemon around my limoncello martini.

earnest positivity, i said, while my ex said, art self-destructs.

i stared at my ex. he stared at me.

his argument was the cinemasins argument: look how bad media is becoming! look at the loopholes and the dumb shit!

it was roughly 2011. galaxy print was still in. at the time, i had a favorite shirt that was a wolf howling at the moon. it got ripped in half in the wash and i honestly still mourn it. i dressed like effie stonem, because everyone did. and irony was the name of the thing. men liked MLP "ironically." the internet liked the kind of crass, "anti-mainstream" vibes of things like fuck romance, touch my butt and buy me pizza. we put cats in sunglasses everywhere, which was because we only liked things in irony.

and media had the same vibe in it: anti-hero white men would be "hard to love" and then storm off the scene. nobody was just earnestly trying to save the world: they were jaded, angry, unoriginal. mad you even asked them to try to help.

my ex ends up not being wrong. cinemasins becomes super popular. a lot of people start viewing media with this lens that is the cruelest, most jaded depiction. it's wrong for your character to have unexplained powers, even if the entire movie is about how strange it is she has unexplained powers - that is still considered a "loophole." characters make thoughtless, panicked choices? loophole. characters are actually kind people, despite hardship? loophole. features a woman doing literally anything without assistance? loophole. movies become hyper-aware of scrutiny, and now irony rules the media.

which means you go to a movie, and the character has to turn to the screen and say "beats me!!" or one of the side characters has to have some kind of quip like "are you seriously telling me that you think this is normal?" because nothing can happen in earnest. like a sitcom laugh track, we now anticipate the fourth-wall break: the moment that the media acknowledges it is telling a story. the media has to apologize for itself, or else someone like my ex rolls their eyes.

but here's the thing: i wasn't wrong either.

the difference might be that i am (and always have been) so soft-hearted that any crack in the light of this world will spear me into the ground. and i was the poet in the relationship. (he thought that was the same thing as being naïve and stupid). i was making things daily. i knew how all of us artists are driven by some strange desire to evolve. he notably liked to critique art, not to create it.

so yes, i've made things that are bitter and angry and even ironic. i've made long, sharp poems with all capital letters, and i've made poems about how the silence stretches out like a song. someone wrote once that we will spend our whole lives just circling the place we grew up. i think it's more that we spend our whole lives trying to remake a home. i think it's that as we age, it becomes less exciting to build the castle on the beach - we become aware of erosion, of windforce. we realize what we really want is to come home to our dog, castle or not.

and while art in the foreground is mired in white male violence and irony, and aggression, and not taking anything seriously - i don't think that's true of all art. i think more and more artists are leaning in to the things we love. the world has changed so much. they have taken so many things from us. the only thing we have left is love. at the bottom of the moving box - all we get is the faint sense that we have to appreciate what little we've got. i can't enjoy this stuff ironically anymore: what room do i have for irony? if it makes me happy, that is an amazing thing. there are so few happy places left for me. i want to be happy because of how leaves shiver beside each other like nestling birds. i want to be happy because of the color pink, and how magenta doesn't exist. i have spent so much of this life suffering, i have earned my right to a gentle ending. if nothing matters, i get to assign meaning to the nothing. i get to create meaning. i am an artist first and foremost, which means creation is my thing.

where is the whimsy? wherever i fucking put it. because if this is my last fucking chance to do any good in this world - i want to do it earnestly. i want to write things that make you happy. that make people feel heard and seen. what comes after irony has to be positivity.

it was close to my 21st birthday. in 7 years, i would end up writing a book about this relationship, which is hopefully coming out somewhere around May 2024. i come back to this bar scene in my memories a lot. i keep thinking of how pale my ex was. the look that crossed his face. how i looked back at him. how for a moment, both of us couldn't recognize the other person. like the gulf between us was a suddenly wide and cavernous thing. like we were alien to each other. he never took my opinion seriously, and he always seemed surprised whenever his manic-pixie-dream-girl ever broke free of the plot. like in the whole time we were together, i wasn't human enough.

this knowledge: where he said nothing comes after, my only instinct was what comes after is love.

[sanemistar]

drop the act — satoru gojo

contents ★ fem!reader, fake dating to real lovers, fluff, 0.8k+ wc. ﾉ requested for my milestone event.

event m.list ★ jjk m.list

“let’s just stop.” satoru’s announcement came out of the blue. his tone came off serious and firm, which was quite uncharacteristic of him. it took you by surprise, a dumbfounded expression was written all over your face. even though you knew that this whole ‘fake’ relationship situation wouldn’t last long and that it was bound to come to an end sooner or later the moment he found someone he truly loved, and although you prepared yourself for that day, you just couldn’t help but feel a hint of sadness and hurt as your heart clenched painfully inside your chest.

why? because what first started as nothing but a mere attraction, a show to stop your parents’ constant nagging about you not seeing anyone at you age while most of your peers had gotten married already, turned to real and genuine feelings of love. as time passed by since the start of your relationship with him, you found yourself helplessly fall for satoru and those sweet, tender acts of his. the way your name slipped off his lips ever so sweetly, and how it rung into your ears like a serenade. how he took your hand into his as they fitted perfectly, like two puzzle pieces that complete one another. how he casually threw his arms around your waist like it was the most natural thing in the world to do for him.

you knew that all of his sweet actions and gestures were all just a part of his act to make it seem as believable and convincing as possible, and he did exactly that. no one, not even your parents, had a single doubt that the two of you were really dating. to outsiders, your relationship was what they call 'goals'. not knowing that it was all just a show, a camouflage. although you knew it all along, but you couldn't help but fall for him.

satoru was your ideal type for what a lover should be, and you wanted to do nothing more than to confess your feelings for him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. after all, the two of you only ever agreed to do this was because there were no strings attached. it was only a matter of convenience for both you and him, since he also happened to be in the same situation as you. so when you asked for his help, he was more than willing to oblige.

you wanted to tell him not to leave you, to stay with you longer, that you’d gotten so used to being with him to the point where you weren't ready to live without him, that you needed him. just thinking about how the two of you would part ways from then on, and how satoru would eventually move on like nothing happened between the two of you and maybe even find himself someone whom he’d truly love almost made your head spiral out of control.

if only you had known your feelings for him would grow this intensely, you wouldn't have agreed to do this.

your body moved on its own as your hand grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. you swallowed a lump that was starting to form in your throat.

"do we really have to?" your voice was shaky as you sounded very desperate. your eyes were practically glued to the floor as you anxiously awaited for his answer, refusing to ever look up. your chest moved up and down rapidly as as result of your heavy breathing.

you heard him sigh as he removed your hand away.

"yes, it’s gotten really tiring having to keep up with this act." your heart sank at his response. it really was the ending, and you were trying your hardest to fight the tears that eagerly awaited to fall.

satoru reached his hand out and used his thumb to lift your chin up, forcing you to look at his beautiful sky blue eyes. his lips slightly parted as he began speaking.

“let’s drop the act, i love you for real.”

and the sudden declaration hit you like a truck, did he just say that he loved you? it took you a couple of long minutes to process his words and fully register them in your mind.

the seriousness and earnestness of his tone along with his unwavering gaze at you left no room for doubt, he definitely meant every word he said. and you couldn't believe what started as a mere act at first had actually become something real.

the anxious look on your face began to relax as all tension slowly escaped your body, replaced with a wave of joy and relief. you let a few happy tears fall down your crimson, red cheeks as a result of being overwhelmed with emotions, which satoru gently wiped.

"yeah, let's." you hummed, a soft smile made its way onto your face. you wrapped your arms securely around his neck as you stood on your tippy toes, whispering softly into his ears in a moment of genuine intimacy and affection which you had felt for the very first time.

"i love you, satoru." although it wasn't your first time saying those words to him, but this time it felt much different, much more meaningful.

he smiled softly and leaned closer as the distance between you and him was completely gone.

taglist: @sylusdoll @ayrastv @hanaeriin @spkyssn @stunies @kalsplace

[darkmatilda]

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you find out spencer has never been to new york you decide to do everything you can to make him fall in love with the city that raised you. and maybe, just maybe, fall in love with you too.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐰: early seasons spencer reid x bau!female reader, reader is kinda tough, description of the case (stalking), spencer is so blind you'll want to kick him, idiots in love

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 9k

𝐚/𝐧: this is a request i got from @written-in-the-stars06 ! thank you for this amazing idea <3 i hope it meets your expectations (even if only a little)

"JJ, I need your help."

The blonde woman froze in the doorway.

"Did you kill someone?" she asked after a moment. And though she seemed surprised, her voice had already adjusted to the situation, lowering into a conspiratorial whisper. As if signaling her readiness to help hide a body. A friend in crime is a friend indeed.

Or however it goes. 

If your eyebrows competed in the Olympic high jump, they’d win a gold medal.

"What? How did you even…wait, is that seriously the first thing that crossed your mind when you saw me?" You watched as your friend shrugged. Her posture relaxed slightly, and the corner of her mouth twitched upward at the sight of your expression. "Anyway, never mind. Are you going to let me in, or are we just going to stand here?"

For a moment, she studied you intently before stepping aside. You’d known she would; it was exactly why you’d come to her. You crossed into her apartment with heavy, restless steps, stopping only when you reached the living room—and only then realizing you hadn’t even taken off your coat.

Pressing a hand to your forehead, you turned to face JJ, whose worry was written all over her face.

“Well? Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

You inhaled deeply, trying to steady yourself as you prepared to say the words out loud.

Words that felt absurd.

Words that had invaded your mind, refusing to let go.

Words you couldn’t decide whether to embrace or reject entirely.

“I’m in love.”

Silence filled the room. A soft, disbelieving snort escaped her lips, quickly morphing into loud, unabashed laughter.

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“I’m not. Why? Is it really that strange for me to be in love?”

JJ snorted again, shaking her head from side to side.

“No. What’s strange is you storming into my apartment like a hurricane, nervous and… terrified, just to tell me you’re in love. Seriously, I thought something was wrong!”

“Because something is wrong,” you hissed through clenched teeth.

You weren’t angry—not at JJ, not at yourself, not at anyone. It was more… the weight of it all, the unfamiliar feelings that left you overwhelmed, spilling out in sudden bursts of frustration.

Your romantic life up until now had always existed on the fringes of your attention. Present, but without all the…symptoms. The dry throat whenever they were around, the inability to get them out of your head.

It all felt like something out of a sugar-coated entry in a teenager’s pink diary, not the mind of a grown woman.

“I’ll make you some tea,” JJ offered suddenly. The worry that had been etched on her face earlier was completely gone, replaced by genuine amusement at your behavior, visible in the soft smile tugging at her lips. “You’ll tell me everything. But now, take off that coat before you overheat…”

True to her word, fifteen minutes later, the two of you were sitting on the couch with steaming mugs of tea in your hands.

While JJ had been in the kitchen preparing it, doubts began to creep in. Was it really a good idea to tell anyone about this? About your…infatuation?

Even though you were friends, the whole thing made you feel a little pathetic. 

“So…” she began after a long moment of silence. “Are you going to say anything?”

You couldn’t find the right words. Instead of answering, you took a big sip of hot tea and winced as it burned your throat.

“Okay,” JJ sighed, setting her mug down on the table and folding her arms across her chest. “If you’re not going to, let me just guess.”

“Since when are you a psychic?”

“Not a psychic. Just someone who spends most of her life around profilers. That should be enough to figure out why my friend is acting so weird about a simple crush.”

“Can we please not call it a crush?”

“Love interest. Better?” You muttered not really but she completely ignored it and continued. “Let’s start with the fact that you came here. To me. Considering how private you are, it must mean you’re totally losing it over this. You seem confused, like you don’t know what to feel. You’re unsure whether they feel the same, so you don’t know what to do. And it doesn’t help that you’ve never had to chase anyone before. You’ve always been the one that guys chased after, not the other way around. And…” she hesitated, taking a breath. “The fact that you seem embarrassed, plus how much you work, leaving no time for dating, leads me to think… it’s probably someone from our team.”

With every sentence that left her lips, your hands tightened more around the mug. When she fell silent, your knuckles turned completely white. Everything she said was true.

"What should I do?" you asked quietly.

"Well, it would definitely be easier for me to advise you if you tell me who it’s about."

Instinctively, you shook your head. You didn’t want to reveal your feelings that much. Surprisingly, you weren’t worried that she would figure it out. After all, it wasn’t that obvious...

"Is it Spencer?"

"Fuck, is it really that obvious?" you blurted out in panic. If she could notice, who else could? The rest of the team? Reid himself?

JJ made a sound somewhere between a cough and a choked laugh.

"Actually, I was just going to randomly list all the options one by one," she said, then let out a short sigh, raising her eyebrows. "You surprised me a little. I mean, it's not that I think you two don’t fit together..."

You knew exactly what she meant. Your specialty at work was kidnappings, often handling negotiations and providing detailed instructions to the families of victims. You had learned to project an aura of calm control, and more often than not, you came across as stiff in the eyes of others. Something that had been pointed out to you multiple times in life, whether in jest or not. Reid, in many ways, was your complete opposite. While you surrounded yourself with a shield of silence due to stress, his mouth never seemed to stop. While you marched forward with apparent indifference, he seemed genuinely interested in everything happening around him, every tiny process on this planet. And maybe that was what fascinated you most about him? Or perhaps it was more about his extraordinary mind, knowing the answer to every question that ever drifted through your thoughts? Or how effortlessly he could make you laugh? Or maybe it was the ease with which you could gently tug at the edge of that serious mask, always settled upon your face, and lift it just enough to let a certain lightness slip inside? To breathe?

"You should just invite him somewhere," JJ snapped you out of your thoughts.

"I tried," you said, wincing slightly at the memory of that failed attempt. Well, not entirely failed...

"Are you talking about how you asked in the office, in front of everyone, if anyone would like to go to the movies with you on Friday, and almost everyone volunteered?" she asked, amused. "That's not how you ask someone out on a date!"

"What else was I supposed to do? Walk up and ask if he wants to go to the movies with me?"

JJ blinked.

"Yes? Exactly like that? I mean, that’s how it usually goes. I don’t know what’s so weird about it for you."

"I’m just not made for this," you blurted out, pressing your lips together. "I can’t stand the thought that he might say no, because maybe he’s not interested in me. Not like I am in him."

"No offense, but you're such a hopeless case," she sighed heavily. "In that case, you need to find out. Invite him somewhere, not necessarily on a date, just a casual hangout. Spend some time together and you'll find out if he likes you."

"What if he doesn't?"

"What if he does?"

After a moment of silence, you managed to smile weakly.

"Maybe you're right," you said, emphasizing the first word. And before saying anything else, you nodded, as if giving yourself courage. "I'll give it a try."

*

Well, you didn’t get a chance to put that plan into motion.

Work didn’t slow down for even a moment, throwing you back onto the jet with your team, deep in discussion about everything uncovered so far regarding the unsub and the victims. Hardly the right time to ask someone on a date.

As usual, the case file commanded your full attention, isolating you from the buzz of conversation around you. You always needed a moment to absorb and analyze the details on your own. The voices of your teammates reached your ears faintly, their words blending into background noise—until one particular sentence jolted your brain awake, cutting through like a baseball slicing the air.

"You’ve never been to New York?" you asked, directing the question to Spencer, seated beside you, shoulder to shoulder.

All eyes turned to him. Startled by the attention, he gave a small shrug and absently picked up the deck of cards from the table, the ones you’d been playing with before the discussion began.

“We’ve never had a case there before,” he admitted simply. 

You closed the folder, and the slight breeze it caused swept a few cards off the table from the game you’d been playing earlier.

“Why am I only now finding out that you’ve never, ever, ever been to New York?” you asked, shaking your head in disbelief. He furrowed his brows, clearly surprised by your emotional reaction.

“I grew up there,” you added.

“And why am I only now finding out that you grew up in New York?” he mimicked your earlier tone. Rolling your eyes, you tried to swat him with the folder, but he deftly dodged it.

“Seriously though, you never told me,” he said.

“Don’t worry, man,” Morgan chimed in from across the table. “She never told me, either. In fact, I’d bet she never told any of us.”

You raised your hands in a defensive gesture.

“None of you ever asked.”

"Does that bother you?" Reid asked, his gaze fixed on you, intense and unwavering. A strand of his slightly too-long hair had slipped out from behind his ear. You had the sudden urge to reach out, tuck it back where it belonged, away from his line of sight. "That I’ve never been there?"

"Of course not," you assured him with a quick huff of laughter. "You just have a lot—and I mean a lot—to catch up on."

"If only I knew someone who knew the city well," he sighed dramatically. "Someone who, for example, grew up there and kept that fact a secret for as long as we know each other. Someone who could show me around..."

"You’d want me to show you around?" The words escaped your mouth a little too quickly, a little too eagerly. Your mind flashed back to your conversation with JJ, to her suggestion that you should invite him somewhere. You’d been too nervous to ask outright, but this? Showing him around the city was a perfect excuse to spend time together!

You felt like an evil mastermind rubbing your hands together in triumph over a new invention that could turn half of humanity into rubber ducks. Quickly, you shook your head, trying to mask the disproportionate excitement now threatening to take over your face. 

"I mean, if we had the time. Who knows how demanding this case might end up being."

"Right," he admitted. Some flicker of emotion crossed his face—a flash of something unplaceable. Could it have been a disappointment? 

He cleared his throat, a soft, tentative smile tugging at his lips. "But if it turns out we do have time... I’d be very happy if you’d show me a few places."

You couldn’t hold back any longer and allowed yourself a brief smile.

“But just so we’re clear,” you began after a moment, your tone carrying a seriousness that didn’t quite match the expression on your face. “I wasn’t keeping it a secret. Just no one ever asked me!”

Spencer let out a small snort at that.

"You know, I think you're the type of person who could go over a decade without revealing your name just because no one bothered to ask..."

“Are you done with discussing your secrets? Could we get back to focusing on the case?” Hotch’s voice suddenly cut in, sharp and calm, as he glanced at the two of you over the top of his file.

In perfect unison, you both turned toward him, sitting straighter than ever. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Reid’s gaze for one more fleeting moment.

He wanted you to show him around.

Of course, that didn’t automatically mean he liked you. But it felt like it brought you a step closer to figuring out if there was even the smallest, most microscopic chance that he might feel the same way.

That hopeful thought was quickly chased by doubts—what if he didn’t?

You knew such thoughts would haunt you, tormenting and humiliating you in the quiet moments you were alone with yourself. So, you resolved not to dwell on them for the duration of your time in New York. Instead, you would focus on one thing —making him fall in love with the city where you’d grown up, the city that still held your heart even years after you’d left.

The discussion about the case had ended, but despite that, you continued to carefully examine the files. Well, not exactly them. On the back of the last page, a blank piece of paper, you started writing with the pen you had pulled out of your jacket pocket all the places you could take Spencer. You drifted through memories, trying to recall those places you had visited with your parents, the ones you had gone to with friends after school, the places you were taken on dates...

You crossed them all out. You doubted a sandwich bar would impress him. You didn’t know how many chances you’d have to go anywhere, so you had to aim for something really special. Maybe something that fit more with his interests. A museum? Or something more characteristic of the neighborhood where you’d be staying. A walk on the Brooklyn Bridge?

You felt someone’s gaze on you. You snapped the folder shut as if you had been caught doing something and saw Morgan staring at you with a slightly mocking smile on his lips.

"If you’re playing a tour guide, maybe you’d like to show me around too?" he asked.

You leaned slightly over the table, your face expressionless.

"I’m sure if you ask Garcia nicely, she’ll find you a guide online. At a good price."

"And here she is. The Ice Queen back in shape. Tell me, how’s it that just fifteen minutes ago you were acting completely differently?"

Amused, he shook his head, leaving you with the unsettling thought that maybe it really was that obvious.

*

“Alright. I’m a serial killer and a rapist. I stalk my victims by placing cameras in their apartment. Where do I hide them to get a good view of everything, but at the same time, make sure they're not noticed?”

"Reid, I’m begging you, never say something like that out loud again."

You and Spencer had been sent to the apartment of one of, unfortunately, many victims. All of them had been attacked in their own homes, with no visible signs of forced entry. That was the first puzzling element of this case. The second were the emails Garcia had found in each of the women’s inboxes. Emails suggesting they had been watched for a long time.

You made my favorite pasta for dinner. You should wear the red dress, sweetheart. Actually, who are you planning to meet?

The very thought of someone watching you in your own home sent a shiver down your spine.

“Apologies,” he muttered. “But I’m not under arrest, am I?”

“Who knows? It’d make for some interesting headlines. Or for the title of a true-crime documentary about you. FBI Agent on a Dark Path of Crime…”

“It’s Doctor.”

“My eternal apologies. Does mistaking your title also come with a sentence?”

“Well, we probably wouldn’t be sharing a cell, but maybe we’d run into each other in the cafeteria a few times.”

"I can't wait." You wandered around the apartment, peeking into every spot that came to mind. Since your back was turned to him, he couldn’t see the corners of your mouth curling upward. “You check the bathroom, alright? I don’t even want to imagine where that creep might have hidden a camera. I’ll be terrified to shower in my own place.”

Spencer gave a mock salute, as if you’d just given him an order. Well, in your tone, even polite requests rarely left room for refusal. But before he disappeared into the small bathroom with green-tiled walls, he paused for a moment, his fingers brushing the doorframe.

“That was a joke, right?” he asked, his voice shifting from light to soft and slightly concerned.

You turned toward him, arms crossed over your chest, not entirely sure what he meant.

“I mean…” he started, briefly scratching his forehead. “I just hope you’re not getting too involved in this case. I mean, you are, but not to the point where… where you’re scared afterward. Of being home alone. Taking a shower or…Does that even make sense?”

"That’s..." you began, trying your hardest not to say that’s sweet. The hint of concern that had flickered across his face, present in the way his eyes lingered on you. The fact that your offhand comment had moved him enough to bring it up at all. “Yeah, that does make sense. You know, considering all these women were my age and lived alone, just like me, it does feel a little personal. But don’t worry, I won’t let it stop me from maintaining proper hygiene.”

You tried to steer the conversation away from the unexpected seriousness, to shake off the weight that had suddenly settled over it. Well, you didn’t quite succeed. Spencer didn’t look particularly convinced—or amused. He gave a slight nod, barely noticeable and likely unconscious.

“I just wanted to make sure. That it’s not getting to you. Not… too much,” he clarified. His words grew tangled again. He dropped his gaze to the doorframe, as if contemplating whether to knock his forehead against it. “I’ll check the bathroom.”

You had spent far too long staring at the door behind which he had disappeared. Only shaking your head helped you force yourself to return to work. The victim's apartment wasn't huge; the living room, kitchen, and bedroom were all part of one room. You stopped by the kitchen area, where a large bowl on the counter still contained fresh fruit. Right next to it lay the apartment key, and although you should have been looking for cameras, you hesitantly picked it up. There was no keychain attached to it, nor was it part of a set of several other keys, as people usually did to keep from losing them. A number of disordered conclusions and theories crossed your mind, even though it was just a key, not a significant piece of evidence or something that shouldn't be there. Maybe the apartment's owner had lost the keys not long ago and had had one copied just before her disappearance, which would explain the lack of wear on it.

That lost set might have ended up in the wrong hands. Or it might not have been lost at all, but stolen.

Absentmindedly, you turned it in your hands, your gaze wandering across your surroundings. A very small space, with a real brick wall on one side and a shelf of dishes above the sink. You knew that the camera had to be somewhere in here, after all, one of the emails had referred to a meal cooked by the victim. Eventually, you stopped at a green plant on the shelf, just beside a stack of clean plates. It was artificial, meaning the victim didn't need to water it, which meant it probably hadn't been paid much attention to, and that meant it was a good hiding spot for a hidden camera.

You parted the leaves and took the small black device in your hand.

Instead of calling Spencer, who was still in the bathroom, you tilted your head back and with a sigh, headed toward the balcony doors, feeling a slight ringing in your ears. It was awful. The very thought of being watched in your own apartment, a place where you should feel safest, for an unknown amount of time.

You leaned against the black railing of the small balcony, which was probably there only because of the fire escape stairs running along the entire building. You just needed to breathe in some fresh air, spend literally a minute outside, but as soon as you looked ahead, that minute started turning into minutes.

After you arrived in New York, you immediately got to work on the case; there had been no time for nostalgic sighs over familiar streets.

You tore your gaze away from them only when someone’s silhouette appeared beside you, turned sideways to face you.

“Two cameras in the bathroom,” Spencer announced. As per your earlier request, he didn’t say exactly where they were placed, and after his words, a moment of silence fell.

You tried your hardest to ensure that no grimace passed across your face. You considered it unprofessional, getting too emotionally involved in the investigation, imagining yourself in the victim's place. But apparently, it even happened to the best of them.

“You really value your privacy, don’t you?”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, stopping yourself from rolling them.

"Are you still dwelling on what I said earlier? I'm fine, Spencer."

"I’m only dwelling on what I’ve noticed a long time ago," he said, ignoring your dismissive response. "Well, and also making sure you’re okay. But what I really mean is that you don’t talk much about yourself. I only just found out today that you grew up here. I’m not saying this in a bad way, I get that you might not want to tell me everything about yourself…"

"It’s not about you," you interrupted him, finally turning so you were fully facing him. You once again took note that the balcony was really small. You realized how close you were standing. The closeness that made honesty a bit more necessary. The closeness that made you swallow more often from the dryness in your throat. You cleared your throat, wanting to clarify your somewhat vague words. "I mean, it’s not like I have a problem telling you about me, it’s just… I don’t know, I’ve always been like this. I never really know what’s worth sharing and what’s not. I’ve always been better at listening to what others have to say."

Reid listened to your words with understanding written on his face. You had the feeling that he had become a little bit lighter. He glanced briefly at the railing, and when he looked back at you, he squinted against the sunlight that was streaming onto the balcony.

"I was a bit worried that your silence was because it tires you how much I can talk," he admitted, his tone betraying a hint of hesitation.

You almost let out a laugh.

"It’s actually quite the opposite, trust me."

With those words, you turned back towards the city, trying to avoid his gaze.

"I like listening to you," you added quietly.

You thought he wouldn't add anything more. That you'd both remain frozen for another prolonged moment on this balcony, with the cameras you'd found tucked into your pockets and the looming return to work on the case. That you'd step back inside the apartment, letting the chill in your cheeks fade along with their faintly rosy hue.

"And I..." he began, nervously shifting his grip on the railing. "I really like talking to you."

You strained your memory, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't recall any other day at work when you'd smiled so many times.

“The rest is probably still in the other victims’ apartments,” you stated cautiously, recalling the locations of those places. Speaking each word slowly helped you build the courage to voice the spontaneous idea that had just come to you. “We’ve found what we were looking for. Hotch hasn’t called us yet, so I guess we’re free. Are you...are you maybe hungry?”

*

Your knees had brushed against each other.

“Sorry,” Spencer muttered immediately, shifting his chair back slightly.

You pretended to be preoccupied with surveying the interior of the café. To be fair, there was a lot to take in. The décor defied categorization, with every wall covered in a different material and painted a different color. One wall was entirely obscured by an antique bookshelf. From what you could tell, the mismatch extended to the furniture; no two chairs were alike. Some were made of different types of wood, others upholstered in leather, and one even spun on a swivel.

In short, the place looked like the kind of room you’d stumble into during a fever dream—where two chubby cats braid your hair while you have a very serious conversation with a purple teapot trying to convince you to take out a loan at its bank. And somehow, none of it feels the least bit strange. In fact, you’d wake up from the dream genuinely considering the loan.

One of your hands rested on your knee, the same one his had accidentally grazed. You tapped your fingers lightly on it, keeping rhythm with the pop song playing faintly in the background. The other hand was tucked beneath your chin in a classic thinker’s pose. Except, instead of contemplating the mysteries of the universe or arriving at profound insights, you were solely focused on one pressing question: Who on earth decided to use such narrow tables? Tables that constantly forced you to be hyper-aware of the risk of touching his leg. Again.

“There used to be a sandwich bar here,” you said, tearing the croissant apart with your fingers. “I don’t know why, but I didn’t even consider that anything could have changed. Sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Spencer assured you. “Actually, I didn’t realize how much I needed coffee until I caught the smell. Did you come here often?”

“All the time,” you admitted briefly.

You noticed him looking at you with a hint of amusement, which made you furrow your brows.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he replied dismissively, turning the cup in his hands. “It’s just…I remembered what we were talking about earlier, and I thought this might be one of those things worth sharing.”

“Alright,” you said, rolling your eyes, though there wasn’t an ounce of irritation in the gesture. “I used to come here with my friends literally every Friday. It was cheap and relatively close to our school, and none of us had a driver’s license yet, so we walked everywhere, complaining about sweaty people on the subway. Do you think that piece of information is going to be useful to you in any way? Was it worth sharing?”

“Well, believe it or not, I absolutely do,” he chuckled. “Besides, you never know which piece of information might come in handy someday.”

You summed it up with another roll of your eyes, but a soft smile remained stubbornly on your lips. You were genuinely pleased with yourself for breaking the ice and inviting him somewhere, even if at any moment this brief reprieve could be interrupted by a call from your boss, demanding your immediate return. JJ had been right. All it took was just doing it.

“I promised to show you around a bit, remember?” you asked. Having scored a small victory, you decided to keep the momentum going and suggest taking him to a truly special place.

“The offer hasn’t expired, right?”

“It doesn’t have an expiration date. It just depends on, well, our work. I doubt we’ll be able to visit many places. So I’ve made…” you hesitated, unsure if you should admit to spending two full hours obsessively considering where you could take him and even writing it down in the case files. “I’ve thought it through and picked out a few key ones. Places I think you’ll like. So, whenever we have time, maybe in the evening… though no, some of them might be closed then…”

"Places you think I might like?" Spencer interjected gently. You stopped, surprised, unsure why he focused on that particular part of your sentence. "What about the ones that are important to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." he trailed off, making some vague gesture with his hand. "I was curious about the places you used to visit when you lived here. The ones that meant something to you. Are they on the list, too?"

You didn’t need to physically glance at the list; you had it memorized entirely and knew they weren’t on it. You had chosen the places solely with him in mind—his interests and your desire to impress him. You cleared your throat.

“We don’t have much time,” you gently reminded him. “I wanted to show you the really important places. The highlights of New York or something that would stick in your memory. Not some sandwich bar that, by the way, doesn’t even exist anymore, or a drive-in theater...”

“A drive-in theater?”

“You know, you drive up to a spot and watch a movie being projected. I absolutely loved it, really, but it doesn’t matter because there’s no way we could arrange something like that now.” you explained, your thoughts oddly lingering on the idea of spending time with him in a similar way. "God, I didn’t expect being a tour guide to be this hard. Not only do we barely have time for anything I planned, but my client keeps complaining the whole time..."

"Okay, fine, sorry," he raised his hands in a defensive gesture, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. "Apologies for wanting to spend time the way you would enjoy. What a jerk I am."

"Exactly, you should be ashamed. I’ll add it to your bill," you teased, taking a sip of your coffee, which you’d completely forgotten about. It had gone cold during your conversation.

"And now, completely seriously," Spencer began again, the sarcastic expression disappearing from his face as he looked at you with genuine interest, those brown eyes steady and curious. "I’ll let you take me anywhere you want. So, what places did you pick?"

You were internally excited to finally tell him about them.

But then, your phone rang.

*

The rest of the day was intense and entirely consumed by the investigation. Unfortunately, you didn’t uncover anything that could genuinely bring you closer to catching the perpetrator. In fact, you didn’t even have a profile yet.

Each of you felt a bit disheartened by the lack of progress. After all, every passing day meant a greater risk that another victim could be harmed in her own home. It was even more unsettling knowing that some woman was likely being stalked at that very moment.

Still, despite the mediocre morale and mounting exhaustion, you managed to summon enough energy and resolve to visit one particular place.

You were just returning from there, walking one behind the other down the narrow hallway of the hotel where you'd been stationed. You could feel Spencer's presence and hear his footsteps just behind you. In your mind, you stubbornly tried to figure out what you should say before you both retreated to your respective rooms.

There was a certain lightness in you, brought on by the release of tension through a pleasant evening, but also a heaviness caused by the weight of your feelings. It had been nice. It had been... wonderful. Yet, it hadn’t brought you any closer to knowing whether he liked you.

Maybe you should talk to JJ again.

You stopped suddenly, hearing Spencer let out a quiet sigh as he almost bumped into your back. You turned on your heel, slowly, feeling a dryness creep into your throat.

Spencer was standing just in front of you, his gaze shifting uncertainly between your face and the floor. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but immediately closed it, lost in thought. You pressed your lips into a thin line, determined to wait for whatever he might want to say.

“Where are you two coming from at this hour?”

The door to the room next to you suddenly swung open, and Morgan’s head poked out, a smirk plastered across his face as he looked at the two of you.

You both exchanged a brief glance before locking your eyes on him. The sudden presence of another person, standing in front of you with his arms crossed and curiosity in his gaze, made it painfully clear how close you had become to each other.

The most awkward thing you could possibly do now was to step away from each other. And, well, that’s exactly what Spencer did.

You didn’t even flinch, glancing briefly at your colleague.

“From the library,” you replied.

It was the truth. In a compromise between places that might interest him and those that were important to you, you had ended up there. And not just any library, but the largest one in the entire district.

As soon as the thought crossed your mind, a warmth spread inside you. The warmth of walking among the shelves, barely catching glimpses of each other’s faces through the surrounding orange light of the lamps fighting to dominate over the engulfing shadows. The warmth of your clumsy attempts to focus on the environment, not on Spencer’s face, which was so mesmerized as he studied the books. His brow slightly furrowed, hair escaping from its place and falling across his face. Eyes fixed on one spot, pupils stretching across the entire surface of his irises, creating two truly hypnotizing points on his face, which you struggled to avoid staring into.

“From the library at night?” Morgan repeated, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and disbelief. “I knew you were a nerd, Reid, but you… I’m really disappointed in you.”

“Oh no, how will I survive this?” you scoffed. You saw Spencer briefly smile as well. “Anyway, goodnight, my dear coworkers. See you tomorrow.”

With those words, you made your way to your room, feeling somewhat like an escapee.

You knew that there were only a few hours of sleep left, and you needed to at least function a bit in the morning, so you immediately headed for the shower, grabbing something to change into on the way. Two things were on your mind. Was Morgan still torturing Spencer with questions in the hallway? And did Spencer enjoy your time together as much as you did?

As you analyzed your interactions with him, you realized there was an awkwardness you hadn’t noticed before. You never realized that awkwardness could be sweet. You’d always seen it as a purely negative feeling, something that caused embarrassment. But it could also make your heart race and cause your breathing to quicken. And dizziness, when you tried to control it all.

You felt like you had regressed to your high school days. You almost wanted to run to your friend and excitedly tell her all about the evening. For a moment, you even considered it, but JJ was probably already asleep.

You stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, and when you pulled on a tank top and some loose pajama pants, you started gathering the clothes you’d worn earlier that day. As you lifted your pants, something small fell out of the pocket and clinked as it hit the floor.

A single key.

It took you a moment to realize that you must have accidentally taken it from one of the victims' apartments. Back when you discovered the hidden camera in the plant, you must have mindlessly shoved it into your pocket. A nervous pang of anxiety shot through your chest. You shouldn’t have taken anything from that place. Another sharp pang followed quickly after, as the sight in front of your eyes suddenly blurred, and something started to form in your mind.

At first, it was a shy thought. But almost immediately, it became a thought that needed to be discussed. Because it could push the investigation forward.

You rushed into the hallway before even deciding where to go. There, you turned in circles, unsure of what to do. This wasn’t an idea that warranted waking Hotch; honestly, you would’ve felt foolish going to him in the middle of the night with just a flicker of an insight in your head. So you thought of someone else—sharp in the way you needed, incredibly intelligent, and probably still awake, since you had just parted ways a mere fifteen minutes ago.

You knocked on Spencer's door.

“I have a theory,” you announced, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

His face registered surprise at the sight of you at this hour, his hand—still rubbing sleep from his eye—froze in place before dropping to his side. He must’ve just been lying down.

“A theory about what?” he asked, his voice a little rough with sleep.

Quite a pleasant rasp. Wait, no, refocusing…

“About who built the pyramids in Giza,” you huffed, the potential solution to the case accompanied by a little stress, and stress, for you, always came out in the form of a biting sarcasm as soon as you opened your mouth.

You slipped past him, effectively inviting yourself inside. Spencer was too surprised to step aside in time, so you inadvertently brushed against his side. Well, you didn’t want to have this conversation in the hallway, for fear that your voices would attract Morgan or anyone else.

“Well, it’s not really a secret, despite what some people like to think,” Spencer started, closing the door behind you and turning uncertainly toward you. His gaze quickly darted to you, sweeping over your body. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to focus. He must’ve been sleepy, and it probably wasn’t coming easily. “The construction of those monumental structures required the labor of many workers…”

“I have a theory about the case.”

You didn’t really think it would need further clarification. Without fully controlling your movements, you collapsed onto his bed, sitting at the edge. Suddenly, the confidence you had felt in the bathroom vanished.

He didn’t sit down, instead standing in front of you, his hands constantly shifting position. At one moment, they were crossed over his chest, and then, after a brief pause, he dropped them back to his sides. His gaze seemed restless too—almost strange. Sometimes it dropped to you, but then quickly changed direction, as though he was trying to find the right exit off a roundabout before giving up and returning to the starting point. That is, back to you. But you were too lost in your own thoughts to wonder what it was about your appearance that so intensely drew his gaze.

"Okay," he said slowly, coughing into his clenched fist to clear the roughness in his voice. "Okay. I guess that's a good thing. What's the theory? Do you need to talk it through?"

“That’s why I came here,” you replied, taking in a little more air than necessary, trying to logically connect the scattered conclusions that had formed in your mind. “Listen, it might turn out that what I’m saying makes absolutely no sense. But it might also turn out that it does have some logic to it. I want you to tell me which of these options you think is true. So... I couldn’t stop thinking about that key in the victim’s apartment, the one we were in. It looked brand new, like it had just been made. At first, I thought maybe she’d lost the old one somewhere. It ended up in the wrong hands. The unsub’s hands. That would explain how he got inside without leaving any signs of forced entry. But that would make sense if there had only been one victim. There were many, though, and it’s impossible for each one of them to have lost their keys recently. Unless they were stolen. Or maybe it was the loss of the keys that led to them becoming victims in the first place.”

The biggest mystery that had come up on your team’s path was how the unsub was even choosing his victims. They were all around the same age, all women, and lived alone. Other than that, they were completely different. They lived in different places, looked nothing alike, had different professions, and were of different races.

“So…” you continued, searching his face for any sign. Any trace of understanding, a hint that he was connecting the dots. Some confirmation. But Spencer just stood there, motionless, looking like he was only half present, his gaze fixed on you.

“I came to what might be...a bit of a bold conclusion. Maybe the unsub works as someone who makes spare keys. People come to him, including women. He picks the ones that fit his preferences, makes himself a copy, and that’s how he gets in to install hidden cameras. And then... well, to…” You paused, noticing his unwavering stare. “What? What are you looking at me like that for? Do you think I’m talking nonsense?”

He looked like he had suddenly snapped out of some daydream. He shook his head, scratching his chin, and taking a step in place, all of these actions flowing together in an incoherent, chaotic manner.

“I don’t think so,” he said after a moment. “It’s... interesting, and…you know, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you in something other than a formal outfit.”

Your eyebrows shot up. That was the last thing you expected him to say. While he had been fidgeting earlier, now he stood completely still. It was true, you usually dressed quite elegantly, not just for work. But you didn’t know why it seemed to impress him so much.

You didn’t know until you looked down and remembered your top. The one hastily thrown on, with a deep neckline. Seriously, was that really all about it? 

You sighed in disbelief and stood up from the bed.

"Sure," you let out a biting chuckle, though, despite not wanting to admit it to yourself, you could feel a tingling sensation creeping under your skin. "Tell a guy about your breakthrough discovery, and he won't even listen, too busy staring at your boobs."

You took two steps toward the door, but Spencer blocked your way, grabbing your forearm.

“Th-that's not what I meant!” he stammered in an unusually high-pitched tone, his wide eyes reflecting panic. Whether from your sudden reaction or the fact that you caught him.

His hand loosened its grip on your arm, just below your elbow, but he didn't let go. The way he held on brought you closer together, and the realization of how near you were, along with his face right in front of yours, stole the breath from your chest. You couldn't help but reflect on how everything so far had made you both close in proximity. First the narrow balcony where your shoulders almost brushed against each other, then the tiny table in the café where your knees kept knocking, even the way you accidentally brushed past him when you entered his room.

But this closeness wasn’t accidental. It was his doing, controlled by him, and, judging by the shock on his face after a quick glance, it seemed to surprise him as well.

He didn’t let go of you.

Instead, he focused his gaze on your face. You kept your head lowered, staring at his fingers gently holding your arm. You could hear him swallow softly before he spoke, his voice slightly raspy again, but this time not from sleep.

"I think your theory makes a lot of sense," he said. "And...it’s given me a lot to think about. It’s probably a man around forty years old. He works as a locksmith, using that job to gain access to his victims’ homes where he installs cameras. He sees these women as objects of his fantasies, and watching them provides him with some sort of fulfillment. His behavior stems from an unfulfilled need for closeness and control, which he can’t find in normal relationships. He’s socially inept, has low self-esteem, and a poor sense of self-worth. He writes to these women, idealizes them, sees them as his chosen ones, living in an alternate reality where he doesn’t see the boundary between fantasy and reality."

There was a moment of silence between you, as you analyzed the profile he had just presented.

"That's...impressive," you confessed slowly, still dazed by the sudden closeness, your gaze stubbornly avoiding his face.

"And that's all..." he began, but then suddenly stopped. The word simply dissolved in a hesitant, trembling way. You heard him take a deep breath. "And that's all while looking at your breast."

You suddenly lifted your head.

Never, not in a million years, did you think you’d find yourself in a situation where you’d hear such words coming from him. Your jaw slightly dropped, and a strange feeling spread through your stomach. You were not only shocked but also, in a way, on the verge of laughter because of the surprise on his face. It was as if he had said it by accident and didn't quite believe it himself. At the same time, something inside you tickled.

You let out a short sigh, sounding almost like a burst of laughter.

Spencer released your forearm, and as your silence dragged on, deep embarrassment began to consume his expression.

"Sorry...I don't know why I said that..."

You interrupted him by raising your hand.

"No," you said briefly, shaking your head slightly. "That was really impressive."

Confused, he studied your face. When you smiled, he hesitantly mirrored it, though he probably didn’t even know why—he was simply mimicking your expression.

Without turning back, you took two slow steps toward the door.

"You’ll have to present that profile to Hotch," you announced, resting your hand on the doorknob. Spencer still hadn’t moved, and his face bore a hard-to-decipher expression—part apology, part embarrassment, and part... something else. A certain spark.

Before stepping out and leaving him in that state, you glanced back at him one last time with a smirk.

"Just do me a favor and don’t mention the circumstances under which it was developed, alright?"

He crossed his arms over his chest, allowing himself one more smile—this time a genuine one.

"Trust me. I wasn’t planning on it.” 

*

Hotch stared at you for a moment in silence, and the corner of his mouth…twitched?! For the first time since you started working at the BAU, you managed to make your boss smile.

 It would be nice to know why.

The next day, thanks to the conclusions you and Spencer had reached in his room, you finally managed to catch the unsub. Your theory about the locksmith turned out to be correct. And when you realized it was Friday, a certain thought crossed your mind. You just needed to clear it with the boss. Well, actually, you only needed to inform him that you and one other team member wouldn't be on the jet that day. Taking advantage of the upcoming weekend, you decided to extend your stay in New York for one more day.

A day that you could spend however you wanted.

The idea came to you so spontaneously that you hadn’t even discussed it with Spencer yet, but you felt, you hoped, that he wouldn't surprise you by turning it down.

The only thing standing in your way was that mysterious smile on Hotch’s face.

“Is that a problem?” you asked, furrowing your brows.

He just shook his head, returning to his usual expression. Though it seemed slightly softer, or maybe it was just your impression.

“It’s not a problem,” he assured. “Reid actually asked me the same thing about ten minutes ago.”

*

“Just, for the record, don’t mention to anyone what we used the company car for,”

"Do you really think I'd go bragging to the office that we used an unmarked police car just to have a place to watch movies at a drive-in?"

He barely caught the bag of chips you tossed at him.

"Just making sure," you said, climbing into the back of the car.

Well, it was definitely a pastime much more popular in the summer, which is why there weren’t many other vehicles around. And also why you immediately curled up under your cozy blanket, claiming almost all of it for yourself. The only source of light in that peaceful spot was the large screen ahead of you, with the movie beginning. But even in the dim lighting, you could see him tilt his head and slightly pout.

You sighed and shared the blanket with him. Or rather, you moved closer enough that the fabric could cover both of you. You added it to the list of situations where, once again, you found yourselves in circumstances that somehow required physical contact. It made you wonder if, somewhere up there, some force was orchestrating the universe’s chessboard in such a way that these moments seemed to happen more often than not.

Of course, not that it bothered you.

While you were still struggling with the blanket, trying to find the most comfortable position, Spencer told you a little about the awards that Roman Holiday had won.

“Sorry if I’m disturbing you,” he suddenly said.

“I told you, I like listening to you,” you reminded him, turning your face slightly toward his.

Finally, everything was perfect. The blanket wrapped around you in the most comfortable way, you could lean your back against the trunk and your shoulder against his. He was there.

“Yeah, but the movie just started.”

“I’ve seen it,” you announced. Somehow, you couldn’t take your eyes off his profile, even though all you could see was the outline of his jaw and nose, and the barely noticeable glint in his eye. “And I really like it. But just so you know, I didn’t pick it just to... you know.”

“Know what?”

“It’s a romantic comedy.”

He turned toward you, and you saw him flinch slightly, realizing that your gaze had been on him for quite some time. Spencer gave a slight shake of his head, furrowing his brows in confusion. You could have easily brushed it off, accepted that he didn’t understand what you meant. Probably, with anyone else, you would have. But you noticed that the more time you spent with him, the surprisingly more talkative you became. So, you continued without thinking too much about your words.

“What I mean is, I didn’t pick this movie to fit a date. It just so happens that today…”

“Is this a date?” he blurted out.

You stiffened completely, not just because of his question, but because of the genuine surprise in his voice. You wanted to ask, isn’t this a date? but your lips refused to open. Instead, you just stared at him motionless for a moment, hoping he might laugh it off.

After the conversation in his room, after he decided to stay one more day in New York for you, after you both chose to watch the movie just the two of you…Officially, neither of you had called it a date, but you had assumed that deep down, you both saw it that way. Apparently, you were wrong.

"The movie has already started," you muttered, nodding toward the screen. It had begun some time ago, but you had no idea how to change the topic. You had to do it because of the growing sense of embarrassment consuming you from the inside.

 You had told him you thought it was a date. It was like telling him you liked him. Which, in fact, was true, but you didn’t want him to be aware of it, especially since he didn’t feel the same!

“Hey,” he suddenly began, his voice a little strained. You pretended not to hear, staring at the screen. Spencer sighed and leaned forward to block your view of it, forcing you to look at him. His eyes nervously searched your face, you saw him swallow. “Is this a date for you?”

You wanted to push him away for asking the same question again.

"It doesn’t matter," you replied. Your tone was sharp but not aggressive. It was the same tone you used most days at work to make it clear to others that you expected to be treated with respect and that the situation or case you were working on was serious. "If this isn’t a date for you, then it isn’t a date. End of story. Can you move? I can’t see…”

“But I…” he began, not moving an inch. His forehead remained furrowed, and his brows slightly lowered over his eyes—genuine, still somewhat surprised eyes, trying to connect with yours. Finally, under their silent pressure, you gave in and looked at him. Spencer’s expression softened. "I didn't even dare to hope that this was a date!"

Something—some feeling—clung tightly to your shoulders, pulling them both forward, toward him, and backward, against the wall of the trunk.

“You’re only saying that to spare me from feeling awkward. And so we don’t have to spend the next few hours… the next day in an unbearably embarrassing atmosphere,” you stated, genuinely believing those words to be true. “Which I’m probably not making any easier. Maybe we should just forget it…”

 “Do you wish this was a date?” he asked, and you barely resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, you did. You wanted to scream it into his beautiful face. Spencer exhaled loudly. “Because I’d want it to be. I really would.”

You lingered in a moment of suspension, unable to decide whether to believe him. Your job had taught you not to always trust words. Just words.

 “Prove it,” you said softly but firmly.

Deep down, you didn’t know what you expected. And neither did Spencer, standing opposite you. Like you, he didn’t move at all. Only subtle changes flickered across his expression. Another crease formed on his forehead as he tried to decipher what lay behind your words. After a long moment, during which neither of you seemed to breathe, his gaze dropped to your lips. That’s when he understood.

You knew he was going to kiss you. You waited for it, ready to meet him, to gently place your hand on his cheek and feel the warmth of his lips against yours. You waited to sweep away the lingering question mark hanging above you both with one decisive motion, replacing it with a firm period.

Was this a date?

It was a date.

Spencer placed his hand under your chin, holding it close to him. Preventing you from pulling away when he momentarily broke the kiss. You saw the smooth flutter of his eyelashes as he shifted his sparkling gaze from your lips to your eyes.

“Sorry,” he rasped.

You couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“Are you apologizing for kissing me?” you asked, raising your eyebrows slightly.

He shook his head, a fleeting smile appearing on his face as well.

“I’m sorry for sometimes being so stupid,” he replied. “About these things.”

You closed your eyes again, letting out a soft snort of laughter. Suddenly, all of it—this whole dance you had been performing around each other, the panic when you realized you liked him, and the fear that he wouldn’t feel the same—seemed utterly absurd. But that’s just how people are, isn’t it? Looking back at the past with a touch of pity.

"Let’s agree on this. We’re both complete idiots."

Spencer was silent for a moment, lost in thought.

“We were,” he corrected you.

"We aren’t anymore?” you asked.

He answered by placing another kiss on your lips.

taglist:

@she-wont-miss @mggslover @nyeddleblog @dylanobrienswife0420 @wmoony

@heddgie @khxna @marauder-exe-old @yujyujj @charleyreid @kitty-kai @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @beesin03 @misserabella @re1dsb1xch @trulymadlydarling @cynbx @penelopegarciaismygf

[kerink]

i want to talk about this idea the fandom has that curly didn't do anything to help anya. the fact of the matter is, curly didn't do anything to help anya on screen.

when we first join the conversation, anya's already told curly about the assault and is just updating him on her pregnancy status. we're never privy to what that first conversation looked like, what anya said or how curly responded or what decisions were made about it. but given that anya confided in him twice more about the situation (that she was pregnant and later that she had told jimmy), i have to assume his response to the initial assault disclosure was sufficient enough in her eyes that she knew she could continue confiding in him.

this exchange reads to me like "what to do about the assault" has been an on-going conversation between them, but curly has limited options to help her. but if he could figure out something to do, he'd do it.

let's look at the options available:

report it to HR. i don't think this option is very viable for a few reasons:

first, pony express doesn't seem to care about its employees. there aren't locks on their bedroom doors, there's only enough food and oxygen to get them from port to port with no emergency allotment, there are more crew than cryopods, they're not allowed to sleep for more than 5 hours a night, etc. i don't think they would have done anything to support her even if they had reported it.

HR may even blame anya for the assault, they may say that it happened because of something she did or did not do. it's her responsibility to take, not theirs.

second:

(thank you to @mudstoneabyss for pointing this one out to me)

curly needs this money because he's considering changing careers, which is likely to result in a pay cut or some amount of time job-hunting without income. swansea has a family back home he needs to provide for. it's daisuke's first year on the job and what a piss-poor welcome a pay cut would be, and he's an intern so the pay cut may be all or most of his salary. jimmy is living in poverty. anya has no savings.

it's entirely possible anya asked curly not to file an HR complaint not only because it would make her financial situation worse, but because she doesn't want to ask him, swansea, and daisuke to literally pay for jimmy's actions.

third:

even if curly did file an HR report he may have been told to do nothing. it's a long trip and they need all hands on deck to make the delivery on time! productivity over employee welfare. it's his job to keep the peace but keep jimmy working.

given how much stress curly's shown to be under, it can be assumed being captain is an extremely taxing job with a lot of both assigned duties and off-book duties. it may not actually be feasible to run the ship without a co-pilot.

maybe all he could do was talk to him.

2. go to the police. are there even police in space? i have to assume so because the alternative poses way too many questions. so there's space police. curly and anya call them and they come to the tulpar and dock on the ship and do an investigation and what happens to that limited food and air supply? the late delivery fee?

i'm a psychologist and my first psychology job was working as a crisis counselor for my county. my primary job was to sit with rape survivors as they had their rape kits done and support them as they made their reports to the police. this may not be true everywhere or across the board or in this dystopia but in my experience the police won't take a rape case seriously, or will have limited options to prosecute, or maybe won't even take the case at all without a rape kit.

so curly and anya call the police. they're going to have to file with HR too, to let the company know what's going on. and now anya has to pay for an HR complaint, a late delivery, and a rape kit.

is she going to get this paycheck at all?

3. curly acts on his own accord. this is the one that makes the least amount of sense to me, personally.

if curly just beats the shit out of jimmy then what? now jimmy's mad and embarrassed and takes it out on anya. we're going to confront him and risk making her suffering worse?

curly can't lock jimmy in his quarters for the duration of the trip not only because, as i said, maybe having a co-pilot is necessary for the ship to operate, but there are not locks on the doors.

curly can't lock him in the cargo hold because a) pony express would probably be beyond pissed off about that and who knows if the crew's pay would get docked or curly would get fired or if dragonbreath would sue them all for property damage and contamination. b) how do we get food and water to him? let him go to the bathroom? we open the doors and he busts out and who knows how violent he'll be then.

curly isn't going to kill him because a) that's one of his oldest friends, and i don't care what he's done or how angry curly is or how badly he wants to help anya, i really don't think it's realistic to think he'd be able to separate the anger from the love enough to end his life. b) it's cold-blooded, premeditated murder. it'd be one thing if curly caught jimmy in the act and killed him in defense of anya, he could maybe get away with that. but after the event is over? curly's going to jail for that, possibly for the rest of his life. if you worked at the post office and a coworker told you your best friend since childhood raped her are you clocking out and going to his house and killing him? it's not reasonable. i'm also just really floored how often i've seen this option brought up on the "prison reform abolish the police no matter how bad you are you still deserve human rights" website.

i also don't think it's reasonable, realistic, or kind to ask curly to act on his own accord without consulting anya. for curly to go against her wishes or act without her consent, that's further taking agency away from her. that's another man deciding what happens in her life. even if curly wanted to beat jimmy up or lock him away or kill him, maybe anya asked him not to.

so i ask, what was curly supposed to do? what did he and anya explore as options? what did anya ask him to do? we don't know and we'll never know. and that was intentional on wrong organ's part.

i don't say any of this to discount or discredit conversations or explorations or analyses about the role The Boys Club, toxic masculinity, and bro culture play into the plot, themes, narrative, or personal take-away players have. i fully 100% agree with, support, and endorse those narrative because despite everything i just said above, it's also true that curly is partially responsible.

it's true that he was irresponsible and an enabler for helping jimmy cheat on his psych exam, but there's no evidence at all that he's a conspirator to sexual assault and abuse, that he was going to cover for jimmy in a court of law. all he said was they would figure it out, and that could mean a whole lot of things.

i think curly has some percentage of the blame for what happened on the tulpar, i just don't think that percentage is as large of a number as a lot of people seem to believe. i'm not asking that we forgive or apologize or absolve curly, what i am asking is that we try to look at the situation with more nuance and empathy and good faith.

i don't think curly was a bad man or a bro who was ignoring anya and covering for jimmy's actions. but i also don't think he did enough to help her. he was never good at seeing the small details amongst the larger picture. he couldn't see jimmy for the dead pixel he was.

i think curly was sleep deprived, possibly under-fed, definitely overworked, and juggling too many balls with not enough options. i think he made the wrong choice, but i think he thought it was the lesser of the evils.

[kamiiik0]

☆How to deal with failure

Don't.

Seriously, don't. You did not 'fail', you are not even close to failing, because failure doesn'teven exist. "Oh but I didn't/ couldn't manifest xyz so i failed", No? You still didn't fail. You successfully manifested an outcome, it was just not aligned with your wants. Why? It's simple, you probably "assumed" you have xyz, then went on panicking and doubting or probably having a mental breakdown over "where is it?" or "I don't see it" or worst of all, prepared some "back up" plans "just in case" your "assumption failed". Basically you did everything that contradicted your assumptions, got scared and started to believe your doubts might actually be true, and went back to the loophole, yet again.

I'm gonna hold your hand when I say this, but, doubts, negative/ intrusive thoughts literally CANNOT do anything in their power to stop your manifestations. they were, are, and will ALWAYS be under you. I'll admit, its okay to doubt. It's okay to "contradict" your manifestations because we are still human. But, seriously? you're actually Giving in to them? They say you cannot manifest xyz because its just "illogical" and you actually believed it? A literal God, the creator, is stopped by some mere opposing thoughts? Babe, its 2025. How long are you gonna doubt yourself, thinking you just cannot manifest, and beg others for help? when all you need to do is just assume in your favour, and that is literally it. It doesn't matter what the 3D shows you, because it was never about the 3D. Remember, you only just perceive the 3D based off your assumptions. you're actually living in your 4D. Literally, Right now, if you merely just THINK that you already Induced pure consciousness, or passed that test with straight A's, hell, even something like you are already living your dream life and you're going on your 10th international trip today, it is god damn real. That imagination, is the only truth. The 3D? It's gonna catch up babe, don't worry. It has to and WILL reflect your 4D, idc how much you doubt that statement. No the 3D does NOT fail to reflect your assumptions. You don't go over to a mirror and think "I'm scared, what If the mirror stops reflecting?" Does that make any sense? exactly.

Manifesting or loassumption is as easy as it can get, decide you having something, or assume you have something WITHOUT spiraling cause the doubts and shit are fake asf. Its 1 FREAKING step. It doesn't matter how "illogical" or "dumb" or "delusional" your manifestations seem, we are literally floating on a rock in the middle of nowhere called space, and you say you can't manifest your desires. STOP WAITING ANY LONGER! just APPLY and watch your desires unfold!

(p.s, sorry if this might come off as rude to someone, but this was very much needed considering how it's legit 2025 and yet people deem manifestation as "impossible".)

(artworks here are not mine, full credits to the artists.)

[buckybabybaby]

perfect vision

A/N: saw this photo, had some thoughts, this is the result.

I miss when thigh riding was popular, I feel it's not written so often now? So here I am bringing it back even if its just for one fic.

Could be canon or au Joaquín, there's no plot really.

The plot is very similar to this Bucky fic I wrote in 2017 <3

Plot: you see your room-mate Joaquín in his glasses for the first time. Smut occurs.

(room-mates to lovers, friends to lovers, mutual pining, confessions, smut, thigh riding, excessive amounts of pet names, one swear word)

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x reader (female/afab)

Warnings: smut, gendered terms

Word count: 1.9K

Masterlist

AO3

***

"Joaquín? Did you want to finish watching... that..." You start to ask, trailing off and pausing at the bottom of the stairs in your shared apartment.

The sight in your living room has you completely forgetting what you were about to say, stunned into silence staring over at Joaquín lounging on your sofa. He always looks good, but now, in a soft tracksuit set and wearing a pair of glasses you didn't know he had, you're frozen in shock at how attractive he is.

He's been watching you watching him this whole time, waiting for you to finish your question.

"You good?" He calls over when it becomes clear you won't, smile fading as you don’t respond.

You can't. Usually you like to think your massive crush on Joaquín is easy enough to hide, even when living in the same space, but right now you're not so sure you can pretend. It feels like a punishment from the universe that he's so close, looking like that, without being yours.

"Seriously, sweetheart. Are you okay?"

The knee-weakening pet name shocks you out of your state.

"Since," You swallow against your dry mouth. "Since when did you wear glasses?"

"Oh, forever. But at my last health check up they said I should wear them more, especially with screens." He adjusts the frames, smiling self consciously at you. "Why? Do they look bad?"

"No!" You exclaim far too quickly. "I-I mean, not bad, just-"

"Not bad, just, what?" Joaquín frowns. "If they don't suit me please say, I won't be offended."

"You never look bad, you know that." You let out a frustrated sigh, very close to stamping your feet like an overgrown toddler. "It's just so unfair. You're here looking like this, and when I go out looking for a guy they're all ugly pieces of trash."

There’s silence between you as he takes in what you've said. Your mind is still scrambled, especially now his attention is on you, so you're not sure if you've just embarrassed yourself or not.

The smirk growing on his face tells you you may have.

"Oh sweetheart." Again with the pet name. "Is that what this is about?"

You keep your mouth shut.

"Come here." Holding out a hand, he motions you forward. "Come sit on my lap."

"On your lap?" You question weakly, even as you step closer.

Joaquín nods, linking your fingers together as soon as he can reach, pulling you on top of him easily. You squeak, trying to get back up but his hold is too strong, the hand not gripping yours coming to rest heavily on your waist.

"Okay?" He asks once you’ve settled.

You take a shaky breath. "I don't know. What are we doing?"

"What we've both wanted to do for years."

He let's the statement sit between you, the words repeating themselves in your mind but you can't let yourself believe what you think they mean.

Ever since you moved in together, you've fought the temptation that is the man in front of you. Joaquín hadn't made it easy, particular as he is to shorts and sleeveless t-shirts as casual attire, always looking like a model on their day off.

And its not just his looks. It's how he saves you dinner when he knows you'll be home late, clears up for you when it's your turn but you've had a long week, rescues you from yet another bad date without complaint because he just wants you to be safe. It's not a surprise you've fallen hard, but until today you haven't told a soul.

Maybe you don't need words for Joaquín to know.

"Don’t fight it, cariño." He says quietly, seeing the conflict on your face. "If I say it first will that make it easier?"

You nod, then shake your head no, unsure. "Depends on what you're going to say."

"Nothing you won't like, promise."

Brushing his hand down your back, you shudder. He's so warm and solid underneath you, you've joked that his shower routine rivals yours, always moisturised and smelling like an expensive spa, but you have never got to experience it quite so up close. The delicate chain resting around his neck makes your breath catch, wanting to trace it with your fingers and mouth, the firm muscle beneath so tempting.

You let your own hands come to rest over his shoulder instead, playing with the short curls as the back of his head as you nod again, waiting for him to speak.

His turns serious, locking eyes. "This is going to change everything and I want that. If this happens I'm not going to pretend it didn't."

"What's going to happen?"

"As much as you want, my sweet girl."

Your stomach flips, fighting a whimper.

"So like, kissing?"

He laughs. "And so much more, when you're ready. Dinner dates, weekends away, fancy presents."

"Like, like a couple? You and me?"

"Think about it, it's perfect. Not like one of those awful men you find on your dating sites. You know me. I'm not one to mess around."

"No, I know," You hurry to explain. "But, you want me?"

Joaquín tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, smiling softly. "I know you stare. Do you know how I know? Because I stare too. If you think it's unfair, imagine how I feel watching you get all dressed up for some pathetic loser of a man who isn't going to treat you right?"

He rests his forehead against yours, whispering, "C'mon, cariño. You know we'd be good together."

Closing you eyes, you take a few calming breaths, allowing his presence to ground you.

"I-okay, yeah." You stutter out eventually.

His face lights up. "Yeah?"

Your gaze drops to his lips. "Yes."

"That’s my girl," He mutters before pulling you into kiss.

This moment has been dreamt about by you both for so long, but no fantasy could live up to the reality. It's messy immediately, too many years of pent up yearning to allow for a gentle start, your grip on his hair tightening but he doesn't seem to mind. His hands have found your hips, keeping you flush against him as he chases your mouth. Wet tongue and sharp teeth have you dizzy, and when Joaquín shifts under you and the strong muscle of his thigh brushes between your legs, you grind down instinctively. Whining into the kiss, Joaquín's own moan has you realising what you've done and pulling away with a gasped apology.

"No, don't be sorry." He's so beautiful below you, lips swollen and red and hair dishevelled from your hands, breathing heavily in sync with you. He swallows, gripping you tighter. "I think that's a good idea actually."

Before you can question him, he presses his thigh between yours again and pulls you down in time, causing you to cry out, so much more intense with him staring. Grinning smugly he does it again, before allowing you to collapse against him, heart beating out of your chest.

"Do you think you can get off like this?"

You're so turned on but not quite past the point of embarrassment, hiding your face against his shirt. He chuckles as he props you up with one hand, the other gripping your chin, eyebrows raised as he waits for an answer.

"Yes, probably," You admit. "But it's a lot."

Cooing, he slips his thumb in your mouth and allows you to suck on it soothingly, his own eyelids fluttering at the wet heat.

"I'll help you through it."

His promise is all you need, smiling around his digit as a silent agreement to whatever plan he has. Letting go of your face, he repositions you so you're more over one of his thighs that the other, quickly tucking your skirt into its self so it's out the way, revealing your underwear to him.

"Fuck, you're soaked."

He says it like it's a surprise, as if you're not showing all the other classic signs of arousal and aren't about to ride his thigh to orgasm. You giggle at the absurdity. Grabbing hold of his shirt with one hand and his hair with the other, you let him start to move you on top of him, his own fingers digging into your skin in a possessive manner that has you craving more.

The rough drag of his tracksuit shorts against your core draws out a loud moan, the friction so good, two layers of clothing doing nothing to stop you feeling him. The wet patch on his leg quickly grows as you find a rhythm that manages to catch your clit on the way up.

He watches you open mouthed, observing how your whines change pitch as the heat in your tummy grows.

"I don't think you're going to last long, are you?" You shake your head, unable to form words. "Good. I want to take my time with you later, but right now I need to see you cum."

Kissing is awkward when you're trying to keep the same rhythm but you persist, pressing your mouth to the corner of his as you continue to grind on to his thigh. He takes pity on you, changing the angle so you can do both, smiling against your lips at the desperate little noises you let out.

You're incredibly fuzzy at this point, clit throbbing, right on the edge and choking on air as you try to tell Joaquín.

"I know, sweetheart. Let go for me."

It sounds more like a demand to you than it probably is, your body obeying immediately. White hot pleasure shoots through you as Joaquín takes control, keeping your rhythm for you, murmuring sweet praises to keep the bliss going. It's too much in the best way, shivers wracking your body as you come down from your high in his arms.

He doesn't let up until you start crying.

"M'okay," You reassure him as you can see him begin to panic. "Told you it'd be a lot."

Sweaty and floppy, you try to calm down, resting fully against his chest as he runs a hand up and down your back again. The tears dry as quickly as they came, just a response to the intensity of the situation, to finally getting what you've craved for years.

It's not too long before you feel steady enough to try and sit, wincing at the sensitivity as you move.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Joaquín's tone is low as if not to startle you. You can't help the satisfied smile that grows as you really think about his question, about how different this evening has ended compared to your original plan. You guess the show you were watching with him at the moment will have to wait for another night.

You kiss him, deeply, half to answer him and half in thanks. Letting him hoist you up as he stands, he walks the three steps into the kitchen and sets you atop the counter, then eventually breaks the kiss.

Joaquín searches your eyes as he squeezes your thigh. "All this over some glasses, hmm?"

Grinning, you shrug in defeat. "I guess."

"Imagine if I'd actually listened to the optician before? This could have happened ages ago."

You laugh, tapping a finger against his pout. "At least it's happening now."

Nodding slowly, Joaquín takes off his glasses to place them safety out of the way as he pushes you to lay down over the work surface, settling himself on a barstool so he's perfectly situated between your legs.

"It is happening now, mi amor," He says, dragging one of your thighs over his shoulder, mouth inches away from your centre as he plays with the bow on your ruined underwear. You twitch, butterflies erupting in your tummy as you meet gazes again. "And we better not slow down. We've got so many missed opportunities to make up for."

***

Masterlist

AO3

(And after you're done, which might be in several hours time because Joaquín is serious about making up for lost time, he orders food for you both and manages to get flowers delivered too :) baby boy is about to spoil you so much <3 )

Thank you for reading!! <3

[thevoidstaredback]

"If I turn around and there's a hero, vigilante, anti hero, villain, anything or anyone related in anyway to the Justice League, I'm going to fucking lose."

It was quiet for a second, then, "Don't turn around?"

Red fucking Robin. "What did I just say?" Phantom turned on his heel to face the young vigilante.

The kid threw his hands up, "I told you not to turn around!"

"And yet here we are," he crossed his arms. "The hell do you want?"

"You seem awfully snippy today."

"Seeing as you and everyone under the sun has been stalking me, trying to get answers to questions I'm not going to answer, I think you can excuse my attitude."

With a huff, Red Robin also crossed his arms. "How do you know what I'm going to ask if no one else has been able to talk to you?"

"Because living beings are all the same. Curiosity of the unknown drags you around by your ear." Phantom turned back to continue walking away, "Now go away."

The kid matched his pace. "No way,"

His eyebrow twitched ever so slightly. "I have a meeting soon, kid. You can't come along." That was a total lie. He had nothing going on that demanded his attention now that Constantine had ditched him after getting the demon under control. Maybe he could drop by Fawcett and visit Billy?

"No you don't." This damn kid-! "You've been wandering aimlessly for the past hour."

Phantom turned again to face the vigilante. "First of all, stalking people is hella creepy. Second of all, my schedule is none of your damn business."

"Careful there, kid," Red Robin smirked, "You'll get scolded for having a potty mouth."

"I'm thirty-fucking-eight!"

"You're literally fourteen."

Phantom closed his eyes. "Nocturn give me patience," he then looked Red Robin directly in the eye, "We've had this conversation. I'm dead. I don't physically age. That doesn't change the fact that I have walked this planted for thirty-eight years. Is that simple enough for you to understand or do I need to dumb it down for you?"

Red Robin blinked, his mouth agape. What? Did he just- The nerve! The audacity! "I'll have you know," he huffed, "I'm smarter than Batman."

"He tell you that himself?"

"Yes." It was one of the only times Batman had ever praised him, so that interaction was held particularly close.

Phantom looked Red Robin up and down, his expression reading both 'are-you-serious' and 'what-do-want?-a-medal?' Without a word, he turned back to his path and began his march anew. Any attempts at conversation from Red Robin was ignored, much to the younger's chagrin. Maybe he'd go away if he ignored him long enough.

Phantom and Red Robin wandered for the better part of an hour, not so much as a word passing between them. Neither stopped for any reason, and neither broke the set pace. It could almost be considered a friendly stroll through the city, if one ignored the slight apprehension surrounding the two.

Red Robin took this time to observe Phantom. He'd never spent too much time around anyone from the JLD who wasn't Raven, so he took the opportunity to get to know another on the team.

Phantom insisted that he was thirty-eight, not fourteen, and that the reason he looks as young as he does is because he looks like he did when he died. Not a comforting thought in the slightest. He knew that, though, when B had briefed him on all the members of or associated with the Justice League.

His powerset was almost completely unknown. They'd all seen him use a flight/levitation ability, as well as some form of density shifting and a healing factor, but Red Robin was more than sre that Phantom had more up his sleeve than that. He worked as a part of the JLD team, so he had to have some magical understanding or capabilities. But Raven wouldn't tell him if she knew, no matter how much he pestered her.

Looking at the kid now, Red Robin seriously wondered if Phantom had a civilian disguise. Ether white hair, toxic green eyes, the glow he seems to give off, and the contrasting bright white and vantablack suit and gloves he wore could not be easy to hide.

There was also a slight sense of unease Red Robin felt when looking at or being around Phantom for a long time. He hadn't noticed it before, but now it was as obvious as a neon sign. It was a strange mix of Uncanny Valley and sinking horror. Why was he feeling like this?

Phantom stopped in his tracks in a dead end alley. Without turning around he said, "Alright, spit it out. What do you want to ask?"

Red Robin hesitated for a moment. Surely it couldn't be that easy? Was Phantom really going to answer his questions? He shook his head to snap himself out of it.

"Come on, kid," Phantom pulled a piece of chalk from his front pocket. "I don't have all day."

Red Robin wanted to scoff because he most certainly did have all day. But, he pushed it aside. He was about to get answers that not even the Justice League could get! He decided to start of easy. "When did you die?"

"Try again." was the growled response.

"What?"

"I said 'Try again'."

Okay, okay. Touchy. "Why'd you join the Justice League?"

"I was bored." It was clipped. Phantom's on edge. Why?

"What're the rest of your powers? I know you have more than what you've shown everyone."

Phantom walked to the wall and started to draw a door on it with the chalk. "Next question."

Red Robin rolled his eyes. "Fine. How did you die?"

Every movement from Phantom froze. Every minute, involuntary twitch, even the telling signs of breathing. For a long minute, nothing happened and Red Robin had the dawning sense that he'd just asked something he really shouldn't have.

Phantom drew a circle in the rectangle he'd drawn on the wall, completing the door. "I'm going to give you a piece of advice that you seem to have completely glossed over." The piece of chalk was hidden away as he gripped the now 3D door handle. "If you value your life, don't ask the dead how they died." He opened the door and stepped through before looking back at the red clad vigilante. "They won't be so nice about it." Then, the door closed and the chalk erased itself.

Part 6 Part 8

Tag List:

@zaiothe4th @someonebored0100 @wolfeyedwitch @angelheartgamer @nymanders @princessbelix @luminanightfall @kgne-k @bianca-hooks123 @reigning-catsanddogs @sassywombatranchhorse @dontfightmecauseillcry @soul-lime @anarinette @serasvictoria02 @the-chaos-goblin-child @confusedshades @caicie @fantasticstoryteller @randomshtickidk @itsberrydreemurstuff @blueliac @i-love-mangoes @nymanders @highimpactemotions @anarinette @sleepingdead96

[anashins]

Too Hot for Snow

Pairing: Jaehyun x reader x Jaemin

Genre: angst, drama, romance, smut, love triangle

Word Count: 17k

Warnings: There are two smut scenes with the same mc, but nothing that really needs a tw. If you aren't here for him, you can skip them without missing out on anything tho! The other mc won't come short in terms of romance either, trust the process! But it's a bittersweet ending.

Summary: When your husband decides to file for divorce, you find yourself back in the arms of your first love. After all, things are different now and you're not kids anymore. But after a weekend lost in heavy snowfall and wishful dreams, you come to the painful realization that some people don't want to change, and others change too much.

A/N: I wrote this inspired by my own experience from a time where I had to decide between my situationship and now-bf. I thought I could pass this message on to ones who need this as well. Sometimes, we make the right decisions, sometimes the wrong ones. Sometimes, it's too late, sometimes it's not. (Also, I miss Jaehyun :( D-497)

Three years. That was how long your marriage had lasted.

“I want a divorce.”

These words shouldn’t surprise let alone hurt you - but they still did. After all, nothing could prepare you for the day your husband decided to divorce you.

You had talked about it before Jaehyun had moved out and mutually agreed on seriously thinking about an official separation while taking this six month break from each other. 

Yet, hearing this final decision out loud from your own husband’s lips made it real. And even though it had been foreseeable and up to a point even inevitable, you hadn’t been prepared for reality, for the fact that now, this was indeed real.

Your husband didn’t want to be married to you any longer. 

How was that even possible?

We walk down the aisle, thinking it will be forever. Donned in our white gown, the veil in our hair and the flower bouquet close to our chest, we are full of hope, light and love for the person who awaits us by the altar. 

“Till death do us part” is considered the love line of our lives as we all desire to vow it one day to our partner.

But thinking about it, it sounds morbid. We stand in front of witnesses and promise to the heavens that it will literally take a terminal illness, a fatal accident or another forced act of nature to tear this love apart. 

The painful truth is that it takes much, much less.

It often takes minimal profound, heroic and inspiring reasons for two married people to never look at each other again. Oftentimes, love doesn’t get torn apart by death. It gets torn apart by pent-up arguments, lack of commitment and the belief that everything you already own still isn’t enough.

“What about Kang Kang?”

Your throat was so dry, you didn’t even recognize your own voice, and Jaehyun ran his fingers through his hair. He had dark circles under his eyes and his clothes were wrinkled, hair completely askew. 

There had been a time, back then in university, where on weekends, you both had looked like that, but for entirely different reasons. You were just staying at home, playing games and watching movies together. It had been the best and most carefree time of your lives. The strict business man Jaehyun had turned into throughout the years would have never left the house looking like this.

At this moment, you could see your past boyfriend in your husband again, who you had long deemed missing, and you wondered where you both had taken the wrong turn in your once fairytale-like relationship.

“He’s your dog on paper,” Jaehyun said nearly matter-of-factly. “You can keep Kang Kang.”

You bit into your bottom lip, so hard that you swore you could nearly taste something metallic. “Is this your final decision?”

In the break of the second that he needed to answer, you grew hopeful again. Hopeful that your husband would admit this decision was wrong, that he wanted to work on things for you two to be happy again.

Because this was the conclusion you had come to last night. You didn’t want a divorce, you didn’t want to give this all up. You wanted your little family, you wanted your husband and your dog, and children of your own in the future.

But instead, Jaehyun said with a tired, but determined voice,

“It’s my final decision.”

____

If Jaehyun were a season, he’d be summer. 

He was the feeling of getting woken up by sunshine tickling the tip of your nose. He was the salt on your skin when you emerged from the sea, the sand beneath your toes and the water dripping from your hair tips. He was the shade under a tree on sweltering days and flowers blooming in all colors.

He was everything good, fair and bright.

… Until summer vanished and you were left alone when seasons changed. It didn’t only become clear by change in weather, but also by the fact that Jaehyun had taken every last piece of himself out of your once shared apartment.

By the next week, he had officially filed for divorce. 

Summer had come to an end.

____

If Jaemin were a season, he’d be winter.

He was the feeling of thick sweaters when you got dressed on a cold day. He was the sound of snow crunching under your boots, the cup of hot chocolate you drank while watching the icebound lake. He was the snowstorm that came overnight and locked you in, causing chaos and destruction.

Jaemin was charming, tempting and dangerous.

But who, after a hot, sweltering summer, had never not anticipated a beautiful winter wonderland?

Luckily, winter came early that year.

____

“Why are you calling me at this hour?”

You stared at the skyline stretching in front of you. The few cars passing by were only recognizable by their headlights, but apart from that as well as a handful of windows reflecting some light in the building across from you, it was a quiet and dark night, the clock showing 3am.

“Why are you picking up?” you asked.

A light hearted laughter that made your heart jump followed. “I will always pick up when you call, you know that.”

“I know.”

A beat of silence passed by as you opened the balcony door and stepped outside, closing it again behind you. You turned your head to the sky and watched the moon, and you knew Jaemin was doing the same right now. 

“Did you already sign and send out the papers?” Jaemin questioned.

“Yes,” you answered, and as you spoke, you could see a small cloud forming in front of your face. “They are at my lawyer’s now to get checked. So perhaps, by next week, his lawyer will get them and send them out to him to sign too. Then, I’ll be a divorcée.”

“Don’t use that word.”

“Why not?”

“It sounds like you’ll be a lonely, sad woman.”

“Well, if anything, I’ll be a lonely, sad dog-mom.” Your gaze wandered aside to the balcony door from where you could see Kang Kang sleeping peacefully on this dog bed in the very corner of the living room.

“You’re neither going to be a lonely, sad woman nor a lonely, sad dog-mom. You’re going to be free. You should be happy.”

“I can only be happy with you.”

Jaemin let out a chuckle that came in unison with a cool winter breeze grazing your skin, and only now you noticed how icy it actually was outside, only dressed in your pajamas and a bathrobe. But right now, you didn’t mind the cold. You only tried to remember the last time you had felt so… like Jaemin had said… happy. 

It had been half a year since Jaehyun had come to you to file for a divorce and already a full year since you had actually started living in separation. That was enough time to move forward when you had been long unhappy before.

You could finally quit pretending, quit fighting, quit caring. You had finally reconnected with the man you had always referred to as your first love, willing to start all over again with him.

Then why, when you looked at the night sky, the only thing your mind wandered back to was still the night Jaehyun had proposed to you?

Back then, he had just graduated from university and you had been working in your job for two years already. He had saved up all the money that he had earned while being enlisted to buy you the perfect engagement ring that was now kept hidden in your drawer along with the wedding band. A very beautiful ring that had once been a symbol for a very beautiful relationship.

His proposal had taken place under the night sky too, in privacy like you had wished for, with only the moon and stars as witnesses. It had hurt to look at the night sky for a very long time after your separation. But it didn’t anymore now, it was more of a nostalgic feeling.

As though Jaemin could read your thoughts, he said, “Don’t worry, when we get married, we don’t have to go through a divorce, I’ll get you an even more striking ring.”

“Stop joking.”

“I’m not joking,” he obliged. “I mean it.”

“Jaemin…” You swallowed, hard. “What are you even saying?”

“I’m saying,” you overheard him taking a deep breather, “if I had done things right the first time, we would have stayed together after high school and you would have gotten married to me instead, and you wouldn’t need to go through all this now.”

You both knew that this wasn’t true. 

There had been grave things that had led to the downfall of your first relationship and you into the arms of your soon-to-be ex-husband. Things that had been totally out of your might to control as you had been so young. But that was long in the past and you had both grown enough as people to pick up where you had left off and do it better this time. 

After all, Jaemin was your first love. That meant something, that was something special.

You sighed. “We were only kids. But now we’re adults. We now have the chance to do it better than back then, Jaemin, and that means to always be honest with each other.”

“I mean every word I said.”

You felt your heart turn heavy. “But for me, it means that I don’t think I will be ready to get married again in the next few years. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about that.” His light-hearted laughter took the weight from your chest at an instant. That was what had always fascinated you about Jaemin. Everything seemed so easy and carefree with him. “I’ll wait. One year, two years, five years, ten years… I’ll wait until you’re ready again.”

“Back then, you never wanted to get married and always dreamed about getting famous, moving to America....” You only then realized that it could be taken as an insult and wanted to correct yourself quickly, but he preempted, 

“Back then, I chose foolishness over commitment. But this time, I mean it and I will come get you next week.”

“Get me?” You raised a brow. “To where?”

“To Jeonju."

“To do what?”

“To be with me.”

“I can’t move to Jeonju so suddenly, Jaemin. I have a job here, my apartment, my dog, my family, especially my grandma…”

“Then only for the weekend. Bring Kang Kang with you. And the rest, we’ll figure it out together.”

Silence from your end, but he was being patient. “Do you mean it?”

“I mean it this time too. It’s been two weeks since we’ve last seen each other and we only met twice overall since back then. I know there is so much going on in your life right now, but I need more of you. And you could need a break from your daily life. So come to me.”

A romantic weekend in Jaemin’s home in Jeonju sounded exactly like what you needed right now. 

So you answered, “Okay, let’s do it.”

You were looking forward to winter.

____

The first family gathering without your husband took place two days later, the weekend before you planned on leaving for your short trip to Jeonju.

You had informed your mother about your separation two weeks after the official decision via a text message, very short and dry. You hadn’t wanted to speak to anyone as to why and when, ignoring all upcoming calls from every family member since the news had spread like wildfire. It had been hard enough the first time already when you had to explain why your husband had moved out. You couldn’t do this all over again.

Not because you were rude. But because you were still hurting and you feared that speaking about it stirred up feelings you had long locked up deep inside your heart. Only now, you were ready to face everyone again. Because half a year later, you were fine again.

Your big family adored Jaehyun so much, especially your grandmother, so you still met her with a heavy heart. To her, Jaehyun had been the perfect grandson-in-law, everything she had ever wished for you, and the feeling had been mutual since you had rarely seen your own relatives act with your grandmother as closely as Jaehyun had.

Whenever you had visited, he had brought her gifts, helped her with the chores and told her stories that made her laugh her heart out. Nobody else had done all this with such sincerity and continuity as Jaehyun, and it broke your heart to know that you had robbed her of this experience forever.

Your grandmother was celebrating her 80th birthday that Saturday, and with her declining health you didn’t know for how many more birthdays she could still be around, so you wanted to spend the remaining time with her, even if it was only you alone.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?”

You were sitting on the couch in her living room while everyone else was still dining, chatting and laughing.

“I think I’m doing quite fine.” 

“Are you sure?”

She reached out her weak, fragile hand and touched your cheek. You started to wonder when your grandmother had aged so much. The woman who had watched over you when you were still a child, had driven you to school, had made you food, and had let you spend the weekends with her. The one who had dried your tears when you had gotten your heart broken in school, who had picked up every single broken piece of you throughout the years.

She couldn’t do all that anymore, but she still could tell how you were feeling just by taking a brief look at you.

You couldn’t deceive your grandmother, so you just shrugged and her hand slipped from your cheek right into yours, squeezing it meekly. 

“It’s alright to still mourn him, sweetheart. If, at some point in your life, you realize that you have made the wrong decision, don’t hesitate for a single second and tell him.”

“What do you mean?”

You didn’t believe in the term ‘the one that got away’ which people would commonly use to describe a lost lover they were still thinking about all the time. You believed that you could grow to love someone just as much as you could grow to stop loving someone. If humans could never move on, how were they supposed to continue living?

“Your grandfather…” Around your grandmother’s thin lips played a mild smile that gave her face back something very youthful. “He was and will always be the love of my life. I married him young and I stayed loyal to him until he passed away. I loved him with my whole heart and he was the only person that had ever evoked such feelings inside of me.”

It tightened around your chest as it reminded you painfully of Jaehyun.

“But there was a time before our marriage,” your grandmother continued, and although the smile around her lips was still present, it wasn’t quite merry anymore, but rather pained, “where we were separated, because we didn’t know whether we should get married or not. There was still so much to see in the world, so many people to get to know. Why would we settle so early? So we decided we wouldn’t.”

“Grandma, you never told me that.” You squeezed her hand back to comfort her.

“I got back with my first ever love from when I was still a teenager. The timing was just right, we both seemed to have evolved so much. Maybe fate wanted us to take this path and meet again much later.”

Now, warmth grew in your heart as it reminded you of Jaemin. 

You had gotten to know each in the second year of high school when he transferred to your school, and the two years that followed was a whirlwind of ups and downs that, looking back at, you wouldn’t have wanted to miss a single second of. After all, it had forged you into the person you were now, and also into the one that had met Jaehyun and had now led you back to Jaemin. 

But you feared your story would separate from your grandmother’s at this point. “How did you then end up with grandpa?”

You now understood why your grandmother was wearing that expression. It wasn’t a fully happy core memory anymore, nor a completely sad one either. It was bittersweet. “It didn’t work out the second time around as well.”

“...May I ask why? You sounded so happy. What happened?” It wasn’t like you wanted to push her boundaries, you were genuinely curious as you secretly found yourself in a similar position now.

“When one day, I returned home, I encountered your grandfather by my house. Apparently, he had waited two days and nights for me and refused to leave unless I talked to him. So I did and he officially proposed. I wanted a week to think about this, and when I, following this event, wanted my first love to make a decision, he couldn’t.”

“He didn't want to marry you?”

“Even after all these years, he didn’t know whether he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. And I wanted a man that knew.” 

You inhaled deeply. “And you never went back to your first love.”

“I never went back to him,” she repeated. “Not because I didn’t love him, but because I knew your grandfather would show up in ways he could never. And that was what I wanted.”

You were asking yourself whether your grandmother told you this story on purpose. But then again, she never did anything without a purpose. She wanted you to learn something from it, and it actually hurt you quite a bit that she was questioning your decision.

“I don’t regret it. Do you regret it, grandma?”

“I don’t regret anything either, sweetheart, absolutely not.” You were worried that she might conceal the truth from you, but from her voice alone and the way her mien changed to the one she was always wearing when she talked lovingly about your grandfather, you were assured that she was being honest and always had been. “Sometimes, I still think about him and wonder where he is, what he’s doing if he’s still al-... And it’s normal. Sometimes, I wonder what if. But if I could turn back time, I wouldn’t have chosen differently.”

Your grandmother’s gaze wandered to the coffee table where you spotted something very familiar for the first time since you had arrived: a pink bouquet consisting of different summer flower arrangements. The one Jaehyun and you usually got together and brought over to your grandmother whenever you visited.

This time, you hadn’t had time to bring anything, and admittedly it had also slipped your mind completely. Yet, the very same bouquet was standing there on the coffee table.

“Jaehyun was here?” you breathed.

She nodded. “This morning.”

You weren't surprised. This was typical of Jaehyun. He always thought about others first, never missing an event, always reliant and considerate. With your own mind always wandering, you had very much relied on him and he had never complained about taking matters into his own hands.

“Grandma, I-” You didn’t know why your heart suddenly felt so heavy.

“I’m not telling you what to do, sweetheart. I’m just wondering if nowadays, before a couple decides to divorce, they have already given everything. There is a reason you were married in the first place. That’s all. That is something you should always think of.”

Yes, you had given everything, every day and minute of your marriage. 

When Jaehyun had stayed for work longer, then worked during the weekends and then rarely came home anymore. When you had started to feel lonely, not appreciated and unheard of your feelings. When, every time you had still seen each other, every minor thing led to an argument where one of you needed to leave the house. 

You had tried, over and over again. 

“I have given it my all, grandma. I have.”

“If you can confidently say that, then move on, sweetheart.”

____

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

You followed Jaehyun into his new apartment, Kang Kang passing by you. He was jumping up and down, circling around Jaehyun like the happy labrador he was. As you had figured out, there were no dogs allowed in Jaemin’s apartment, so you had asked Jaehyun to take care of him this specific weekend.

You wondered whether it was selfish of you and quickly came to the conclusion that yes, it was, and cruel on top of that too. That was why you hid the truth from your soon-to-be ex-husband and had told him you had work in Jeonju this weekend and no other family could take Kang Kang. At least the latter was the truth as you had earnestly tried it everywhere before, but to no avail.

At least, you knew Kang Kang was in good hands, and he hadn’t seen his human dad in so long either. You put your dog’s belongings in the living room, which consisted of his bed, a few toys, his bowls and other necessities.

“Don’t you have to work this weekend, though?” you asked Jaehyun politely. 

You still didn’t know how to behave in front of him whenever you had to interact. This was actually the third time you met since your official separation half a year ago with the first two being the time he had to pack his stuff and move out completely. How did one interact with the person you were soon to be called ex-husband?

You were nervous and anxious, but also somehow happy to see him, because you hadn’t seen each other in three months. Jaehyun was still Jaehyun, he hadn’t changed. You wondered whether he was dating someone new now too, though.

“I actually requested time off this weekend when I knew Kang Kang would come,” he answered almost nonchalantly. “Do you want something to drink? I’m sorry, I only have water.”

You weren’t sure whether the water would help the lump that had built in your throat to disappear, so you declined. And just like that, Jaehyun had requested an entire weekend off when you had had begged him in the past to do so over and over again. You were hurt, once again, and it showed all over your face. 

“I’ve started a new job, actually,” he quickly explained, but you didn’t know whether it would make it all better, truth to be told. “Less salary, but since I’m living alone now, it’s fine. They still pay well enough and I have more time to myself.”

You deadpanned, “Good for you.”

It shouldn’t bother you anymore, it really shouldn’t. But you couldn’t shake off the fact that Jaehyun had changed his work and lifestyle almost so easily right after separating from you when he hadn’t been able to do exactly that while still with you. What had hindered him all this time?

Jaehyun, sensing already where this conversation would lead to since you had been there over and over again in the past, quickly changed the topic. “How is your grandma?” 

You unpacked Kang Kang’s stuff while he arranged the bed for him where he thought your dog would like it. 

“Quit playing, I know you visited her.”

He let out a shy laugh. “Did she tell you? I purposely told her not to.”

“She didn’t have to, really. I saw the flowers and knew immediately.”

You turned around to him, and even from the side, while he was kneeling down and petted Kang Kang, you perceived how shy he had gotten as his ears had turned slightly red. 

“I was worried about her since she hasn’t been feeling well these past months. So I wanted to check up on her. I didn’t want to break tradition, you know. Yet.”

“I know,” you admitted and quietly added, “Thank you for that.”

“I hope she’ll get better soon.”

He shifted in your direction and smiled, and this reaction made you longing for easier times where you didn't have to deal with the fact that this was the last time he had seen your grandmother.

Had you been too greedy, wanting too much that he hadn’t been willing to or couldn’t give yet? Had you pressured him too much and driven him away instead? Should you have been more patient with him and supported him, even though you hadn’t condoned any of his actions? Had it only been a rough patch and you would have come over it by now? 

Those were questions to which you would probably never get an answer. It was all too late now anyway. The papers were signed from your side.

“Jaehyun…” you whispered and wondered whether he had heard it as he suddenly interrupted you with,

“Ah, I’m sorry but you have to leave now.” He arose from the crouch and scratched the back of his head. “I actually have a visitor over the weekend and she’ll arrive soon.”

“She…?”

He nodded with a hint of reluctance.

You couldn’t explain why this revelation hurt almost just as much as the day Jaehyun had opened up about wanting a divorce. You were seeing someone else too, probably for longer than him, but you didn’t want him to be dating anyone else, giving her everything you had been asking of him for so long. 

You should be happy for him to have finally changed and wanting to make it better with the next woman he would grow to love. Yet, all you could think about was that he had never been able to give it to you.

You were so selfish.

“Okay,” you said breathlessly and grabbed your purse, moving to the entrance door. 

“Hey.” You heard footsteps, and before you could grab the handle, Jaehyun was already holding you back by your arm. “I’ve known you for too long to unsee the fact that you’re upset. And let me tell you, I understand why you’re angry.”

You lowered your head so that he couldn’t read your exact expression. But he didn’t need to. He never needed to. To him, you had always been an open book. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Jaehyun…”

“You’re probably asking yourself why I couldn’t change my job to have more time for you too. Just like I’m asking myself why you couldn’t have been more independent and wouldn’t rely on me only. We’ve both come quite a way, haven't we?”

You took credit for the not independent enough part. After all, since freshman year, you’ve only had Jaehyun. He had been the center of your life, of your universe, and this view had shifted into a toxic direction you never wanted to look into again. You truly had turned codependent at some point, you owed that part. 

All that was left to do was not letting these negative traits affect your new relationships. That was a promise you didn’t only need to make to yourselves, but to your new partner, too.

“Do you think… Do you think we could have reached this point too if we had stayed together? This is what we have wanted, right?”

After all, it didn’t matter anymore. But you really wanted to hear this opinion, whether he thought the same. 

He admitted, “I don’t think we could have evolved like that if we had stayed together.”

“I think so too.” You shrugged off his grip and pulled down the door handle. 

“If you ever need something… I’m always here, okay? Call me, text me, no matter how late, I don’t care. I will always be here for you.”

After all, he was still so good, fair and bright.

It was unfair that you couldn’t offer the same kindness in return. Envy never looked good on anyone.

You switched to a cold business-tone. “My lawyer told me you received the papers already.”

“I did yesterday. I’ll sign them this weekend and pass them on on Monday.”

“See you on Sunday then when I come to pick up Kang Kang.”

And then, you left without another word.

____

“I have a gig tonight, but don’t worry, we can drop off your things first and head right there,” Jaemin declared. “I already told them to start the soundcheck without me.”

“Gig?” Jaemin had picked you up with his car from the train station and you were currently on your way to his house. “I thought we were going to spend the whole weekend… you know, at your place.”

“We will, we will!” he repeated and put his hand on your thigh while the other was still holding onto the steering wheel. “Don’t worry about that. It’s only tonight. Besides… you’ll get to know all my friends and bandmates too, so that’s gonna be fun!”

You should actually be excited about getting involved with his life right off the bat, but you couldn’t help but to feel more anxious about meeting new people when all you wanted to do was to spend a cozy weekend at Jaemin’s place, just the two of you. You wanted to take your sweet time, learning about each other, and only each other, again.

Jaemin had always been an extrovert while you were the complete opposite, and in all these years, this fact hadn’t seemed to have changed at all - just like him always forgetting how hard it was for you to come out of your shell. But you decided that you weren’t going to be hurt over this and see it as a compliment to get introduced to his friends and lifestyle so short into the relationship.

Perhaps, this was also a sign for you to break out of your shell that had only hardened throughout the years you had spent with Jaehyun as he was very similar to you. You couldn’t always live that way and accepted Jaemin offering to show you a new lifestyle.

“I’m looking forward to it!” you exclaimed and shifted your head back to the street, swallowing your anxiety and just hoping it wouldn’t resurface.

____

But it did later that night when you stood by the bar in that very small club, the crowd dancing and singing along to tunes you had never heard before, and you suddenly felt so alone and lost. 

Back in the days, Jaemin had also been in a band, just one of many self-formed ones in school, but his band had always been the most popular, because, well, he himself was so popular. And even now, he was remaining true to his image, flirting with the crowd through his mimicry and gestic, radiating a charisma that would have all girls on their knees in front of him if only he asked.

Since he was with you now though, you felt proud and a bit haughty that he was still so popular and you had him all to yourself. But also, on the other hand, you were questioning if the negative feelings from your teen years would resurface…

The irritation when he hadn’t looked at you even once during his performances. The doubts when he had always winked at another girl during his solos. The jealousy when he had eventually talked to said girls after his performances, treating you like air.

But this Jaemin… he was different. Just when he finished and you viciously feared that it all would be repeated again, he passed by the entire crowd, not sparing his female fans even a single glance, and walked straight up to you.

“How was I?” he asked with a beam and you fell happily into his arms.

“Amazing!”

He laughed. “I’m so happy you liked it! Here, let me introduce you to my bandmates.”

So many new faces, but you were feeling welcomed from the very first moment on. There was no need to be anxious about feeling left out and to be nervous about nobody wanting to talk to you. You were having so much fun and everyone wanted to talk to you, wanting to know more about Jaemin’s girlfriend.

You hadn’t known he had already introduced you as such and felt very honored.

“Let’s have a toast!” Jaemin then raised up his shot.

“This will be our fourth toast!” a band member pointed out. “What do we still have to celebrate?”

You felt Jaemin’s strong arm around your shoulder, claiming you in front of all his friends and his entire band. “We’re celebrating her divorce. I’ve waited many years for her to separate from her husband, and now I can have her all to myself, for my entire life!”

You blushed at his loud confession. That didn’t seem like your Jaemin who you had known for so long at all. He had always been openly flirty and charming, but love confessions were never really his thing. Until now, apparently.

“So you want to marry her and spend the rest of her life with her?” someone teased. “What happened to Jaemin and when do we get him back?”

You quickly shook your head and waved aside. “Please, he’s only joking!”

“I’m quite offended you think I’m joking!” Jaemin objected and turned to you to make the conversation more private. “I mean it. We will spend the rest of our lives together. No matter where.”

This had suddenly turned into such an intimate moment, and all of his band mates sensed it which was why they pretended to be occupied with each other.

“You can’t say things like that so casually here!” you chided. “You’re probably drunk.”

“I’m actually quite sober and can think straight, and these thoughts currently always lead me to one desire: I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t care if you marry me or not, I just want you to always be with me. We will make it work. With your job, your dog, and your family. Even if it means I will have to come to you and live in the capital.”

“The Jaemin back then wouldn’t have uttered these words at all. He was always talking about going to America, getting famous with his music…”

“Well, I can still go to America. But with you. And one day, when you decide that you’re ready, even if we’re old and grey, we can get married.”

He then kissed you, and you dared to daydream just a little bit. In one possible future, you actually saw yourself watching your husband, Jaemin, standing on the stage of a big stadium in America while the crowd cheered, but he only had eyes for you who stood in the first row. 

One faraway possible future, you didn’t dare to venture in further, because in this one, you were still married and it would take so, so much time until you could actually think of accepting a proposal ever again.

Forgotten was the toast still, and you and Jaemin called it an early night. You were surprised, because back in the days, he would have partied until the sun went up, and longer.

“I want to spend the remaining time with you,” he only said and led you out of the venue by your hand.

Maybe, just like you and Jaehyun, Jaemin had evolved too - to the man you had always needed him to be.

____

The next morning, it had started snowing.

The blanket slipped from your naked shoulder when you arose, the mattress giving in under you as a result of you bracing your hands against the surface. Jaemin was still sleeping soundly next to you. Of course, because a brief look at your phone told you that it was only 7am on a saturday.

Yet, you didn’t want to miss this beautiful, quiet hour and slipped out of the bed. Throwing on Jaemin’s t-shirt from the night before, you walked to the big window that offered a panoramic view of the landscape. 

There were only a handful of high rise buildings in his city and no skyscrapers were seen far and wide. The horizon was a bit cloudy, but the beautiful landscape was still recognizable through the falling snow. 

You had been to Jaemin’s hometown only once when you were together as teenagers. He had been sent to Seoul to attend a better school and eventually university, but had moved back after his degree.

You loved it here, it was the entire opposite of the bustling and ever lively capital. But living here, you wondered, would you get bored eventually? It was quite the contrary to your personality, but you had always enjoyed your environment being fast and never sleeping while you stood still. It gave you the feeling of never being alone while actually being alone.

A kiss on the back of your neck let you shudder, but in a good way. You giggled and turned around to Jaemin who had his arms wrapped around you now. His muscles were well-built and tense in your grip.

“Look Jaemin, it’s snowing!” you pointed out. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Mhhmm,” he muttered, but he didn’t look. “I know a more beautiful view, and it’s also in front of me.”

His voice sounded so sexy when he had just woken up. He embraced you tighter and kissed your temple. “You’re so charming as always.”

Jaemin chuckled. “Why are you up so early already?” he then asked you and gently rocked you in his arms. “You can still sleep.”

“I know, it’s just…” You shrugged. “I want to spend as much time with you here as possible.”

“Oh, does that mean I have to get up now too?” he seemingly wailed. “But what if I don’t want to get out of bed yet? Is there something we can do in bed together?” 

You didn’t need to be told twice, but let yourself get carried, with both of your legs hooked around his waist, back to the bed. Letting out a laugh, Jaemin threw you onto the mattress and then crawled on top of you. He was still naked from last night, his muscles flexing nicely in the dim morning light.

You stretched out your arms and placed them around his neck. Gently, you pulled him close to you so that your nose tips touched, and smiled. You wanted to stop time right here and now, and bathe in this intimate moment for a while longer.

Jaemin didn’t know the words ‘enjoy’ and ‘patience’ though as not much later, sweat droplets started to collect on his chest, making his skin glisten with every shift that he performed on top of you. Your breathing came in hitches and caught every time he pushed himself deeper into you.

“You like that?” he whispered into your ear, causing goose bumps to spread all along your neck.

“I lot…” A gasp passed your lips when his wet tongue licked your earlobe.

It had slipped your mind when you had last felt this deeply satisfied. What Jaemin was doing right now even topped the events from last night when you had returned to his apartment, even though you had thought that it was impossible to top that.

You stretched out your legs and placed them around Jaemin’s waist, pushing your hips up. 

“Hm?” He raised his head and locked eyes with you, revealing a sneaky smile that was accompanied by a cocked brow to emphasize his feigned surprise. “What’s that? You’re impatient already?”

“It’s you,” you said. “I just can’t get enough.”

Jaemin lowered his head again and started sucking on the side of your neck. You were sure you would be able to see a few faint bruises later on, but it was the time to wear scarves anyway and you wanted him to mark you in every way possible. 

Your fingers entangled in his soft hair that then slipped through the gaps between them, and after a few bypassing moments of absolute stillness from his side where you slowly grew even more impatient, Jaemin started to move inside of you again. 

When you were a teenager, you had lost your virginity to Jaemin after a few months of dating. He hadn’t been as insecure, nervous and awkward as you, because of course, the most popular boy from the band had already gained experience. And it seemed like he hadn’t lacked keeping to do so.

Or how else did he know to slip out with only the tip remaining so that you could quickly catch your breath, just to thrust back inside you with full force again? You couldn’t help but scream every time he penetrated that sweet spot, and he made sure to hit with every single motion.

The sheets grew wet under you as you were sweating so much, and in the peripheral of your blurry vision, you noticed that it had turned a bit lighter already in the apartment. God, for how long had this been going on, and how much more could you take?

You were already calling out, “Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin!”, mixed with dry screams that only grew more hoarsely, but you couldn’t seem to reach the anticipated release. Whenever you faced him, you only encountered his wicked, charming grin, and were assured that release was nowhere near yet.

Time and space blurred together for you and your mouth hung open, longing for air as he ripped you off it with his thrusts, again and again. The neverending string of a nearing orgasm was always graspable, but remained out of reach as each time, Jaemin took a brief pause by halting his motions and never pulling out entirely. 

“Please…”

You didn’t know why he was doing that or where he had even learned to be this skilful to drag it out for so long, and truth to be told, you also didn’t want to know. At this point, you were only worried that he was punishing you on purpose, for dumping him back in the days, and for letting him wait for so long. Fair enough, you accepted this kind of punishment over anything else. 

Jaemin drew his face close and licked over your dry lips. “I want to hear you beg.”

You didn’t care anymore at this point. You pressed him close to you, drawing your thighs even tighter around him. “Please, Jaemin!”

“Louder.” A low growl into your ear. But eventually, you felt him moving again.

“Please, Jaemin. PLEASE!”

“Louder!” he summoned.

“JAEMIN, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, I BEG YOU, PLEASE!”

The next moment, it felt like a wave came crashing down over you after trying to swim away from it all this time. It only took Jaemin two more skilled thrusts at the right angle until you let out a long-lasting scream that was on the brink of waking all the neighbors up, but you didn’t care.

You felt your insides clenching around him, your legs shaking in the aftermath while your fingers simultaneously dig deep into his skin as though you were holding onto a lifeline, nails grazing along his back and leaving long marks that would also be visible for quite a time.

Jaemin followed almost directly after you. He was gracious and quiet about it, but you knew him well enough to see that he was still enjoying it a little too much as he revealed himself by a low whimper that he tried to hide in the side of your neck, followed by a long sigh. His arms were shaking as he lost all strength and limply fell on top of you.

Your fingers were still on the back of his head, slowly stroking and comforting him while he was coming down from his heights. Your sweaty chest heaved up and down with Jaemin’s head on top of it.

For a moment, it was silent, only your regular breathing rhythms audible. 

In that moment, you wondered when you had last felt this happy.

____

“Are you with Jaemin this weekend?” 

Jaehyun’s anger was palpable through the phone. You moved away from the queue, signaling Jaemin that you had to take this call while he was lining up to buy you octopus skewers.

“Uh… I-”

Your still-husband had caught you red-handed and you didn’t know what to answer, because you hadn’t been prepared for this kind of situation. Only now, you realized that it would have been better to not have picked up the call at all when you had seen his name popping up on the display - ‘hubby’ and a heart. You still hadn’t brought yourself to change it to his government name.

“Answer me,” he demanded when your stuttering slowly grew uncomfortable and you settled for a quiet corner to talk to him.

“Jaehyun…”

“Someone sent me a video of his stories from last night and you were in it. I should have known the first thing you’d do would be running to him.”

How was that possible? You didn’t have mutual friends anymore from back then who would have cared enough as all contact had started to dwindle down at some point. And as far as you knew, these two had each other blocked everywhere. Unless they didn’t anymore and Jaehyun was lying to cover up that he had been digging.

“Jaehyun, that’s not fair at all.”

You heard a snort, followed by dead silence, but he didn’t hang up. “When did you want to tell me you were spending the weekend with my best friend?”

Dead silence again, but this time from your side of the line. Eventually, you reproached, “You haven’t been best friends for four years.”

“You told me you weren’t in contact anymore since he tried to creep back into your life even shortly after our marriage and I had to nearly physically fight him when he suddenly stood in front of our door.”

“We weren’t in contact!” you defended yourself. “But he had gotten wind of our separation and then hit me up again. Initially, it was just small talk, how I was doing and dealing with the situation. This is only the third time we've seen each other ever since. I really wasn’t in contact with him all this time, Jaehyun.”

“You never blocked his number or his socials as you had promised or otherwise, how could he have reached you?”

“I did! I told you I did, and I immediately did so back then! He contacted me from another number as he had changed his phone contract. I’ve never lied to you throughout our entire marriage! Don’t doubt me now just for me to fit your narrative, Jaehyun.”

“Hm.” He always let out this sound when he was at a loss for words, but didn’t want to drop the topic just yet. “I see.”

Somewhere in the background you heard Kang Kang and suddenly felt so guilty. Yet, you shrugged it off. You were too happy to get dragged down by his double standards right now. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about why I wanted to go to Jeonju. But honestly, Jaehyun, you also have a female over this weekend, don’t you?”

“I told you straight-forwardly. Also, she’s not an ex or your best friend, and certainly not my first love.”

He was right. The way you had handled this situation was certainly not pretty or fair at all. Why hadn’t you told him the moment you asked him to take care of Kang Kang? 

Perhaps, because Jaemin had always been a threat to your relationship, long before your marriage and after it too. And it had always been your fault, even though you had complied with Jaehyun's requests about blocking and deleting him.

Somehow though, whenever Jaemin wanted to find you, he always did. And he was lucky to now have found you at a time where you had wanted to be found as well.

“Jaehyun…”

He let out a long breather and you imagined him shaking his head at this very moment. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know why I’m calling. I just thought… It’s not even my right anymore to know who you’re with and what you’re doing, but… really, him out of all people?”

“Jaehyun…”

He hadn’t been in Jaemin’s band, but in the same class. You had always seen him around, but never interacted as you had rarely hung out with Jaemin’s friends. He hadn’t wanted that. And when you had finally had enough of his shenanigans after suffering in your on-off relationship for two years, you moved on in university - with your ex’s best friend who had happened to be the complete opposite, and everything you’d ever asked for.

In the beginning, you had tried to keep it a secret, but eventually came clean with Jaemin after a few months, who had reacted in a very mature way. Or so you had thought. You didn’t want to be friends with him as you rarely saw him anyway, but you let them be friends. Eventually, you warmed up to this new dynamic as Jaemin had once been a huge part of your life too. Nothing had seemed weird at first and Jaemin seemingly was okay with it. 

Until it all went downhill.

“Do you remember the day you told him we were engaged?” Jaehyun then asked.

Of course you remembered. Jaemin hadn’t let his true emotions slip, he hadn’t thrown a tantrum, he hadn’t said anything more than,

“Good luck. But you won’t be married for too long, because she’ll be mine again.”

And ever since then, best friends Jaehyun and Jaemin had never spoken a word to each other again.

It was eerie and sad how this prediction had eventually turned out to be true.

“I chose you, because you are kind, dedicated and warm, Jaehyun. Jaemin was fickle, unreliable and unfaithful, yes, but we were almost still kids! He’s changed.”

“That’s what you also said when I was in the army and he tried to test the waters with you again. That he’s changed, when you went back to him shortly. And look how that ended.”

“Are you bringing this up again? We were never involved in that sense again! You were in the boot camp and could only text me for one hour on the weekend, I felt lonely and we wanted to meet up as friends! I was young and stupid, how many times do you still want to hear it?”

“... And he never turned up.”

You bit into your lower lip. If you didn’t know it better, Jaehyun was hurt and jealous. But there was seriously no room for him to feel this way anymore. You were separated and it was only a matter of days until it was official. You didn’t even need to talk to him right now, but somehow, you also couldn’t bring yourself to just hang up.

“This time, he did turn up. Among many other things.” 

Only then did you realize that tears were pricking behind your eyes. In your peripheral, you could watch Jaemin ordering the skewers already, he was not supposed to see you cry.

“And you know that from a day of spending with him?”

“You know, I don’t have to justify myself in front of you, Jaehyun.”

‘If you still love me, then say it out loud!’ that was what you wanted to tell him. You wanted to grab him by his shoulders, shake him and ask him why he hadn’t told you so earlier. Why Jaemin had to come in between you again for him to finally open his mouth. 

At the other side of the line, it had suddenly turned quiet. 

“Are you sure about it?” you whispered into your phone. “About the divorce.”

“What is this about?” Jaehyun almost seemed angry now. “We’ve talked about it over and over again. This is for the best.”

“Then stop bothering me!”

Finally, you hung up and took a deep breather. Wiping a tear from your cheek with the back of your hand, you turned your head against the sky. It was still snowing, and the flakes melted immediately on your hot cheeks.

“Everything alright?” Jaemin asked when he had reached you. “Did something happen?”

You shook your head and accepted the skewer he was holding out to you. “No, nothing. Let’s go.”

____

Jaemin rolled his head back, his mouth falling agape.

“Yes, just like that.”

You felt his fingertips grazing over the back of your head, and then, with a firm tug, he had your hair between his fingers, tightly pulling on it. You swallowed a pained squeal, but the discomfort passed quickly as you realized it even added up to the sensation of sucking Jaemin off.

You let it slip past your mouth, only trapping the upper part between your lips, and then halted. With the tip of your tongue, you pressed down into the slit where you already tasted his sticky precum. You smiled when you heard him groan.

This time though, Jaemin didn’t let you get away with teasing him so easily. He pushed your head down his length, and as you didn’t have time to prepare yourself for this sudden action, you almost choked at him hitting the back of your throat. 

You weren’t trained in deep throating at all, the only time you had tried, you had wanted to gag so badly. Even now, it wasn’t really a cakewalk for you to suppress the reflex. But as you turned your gaze up and caught Jaemin stretched out gloriously on the couch, enjoying it with angelic moans, you gladly complied, no matter the circumstances.

Jaemin set the rhythm with his fingers still entwined in your hair. He pulled on your strands and lifted your head up his length just to slam you all the way down again until you nearly met his pelvis with your lips. It took you three tries to get rid of the gag reflex and another two to adjust to this submissive act.

“Now, suck it.”

You happily did so as it meant having a break from the excessive motions earlier, and only dedicated yourself to the upper half, sucking him off like a lollipop. You also used your tongue with which you teased him again by letting it glide over the smoothest part, just passing the frenulum. The sound he let out as a result was the loudest you had ever heard pass his lips during an intimate act.

“What was that?” he asked almost breathlessly, and looked down at you.

“You like it?” you wanted to know shyly.

“I love it!” he exclaimed and laughed. “Do it again!”

You felt Jaemin releasing himself into your mouth without a warning not much later, though you felt it pumping past your circled lips. Patiently, you waited until he was done and only let him slip out of your mouth then, falling back into a crouch and wiping over your stained mouth.

With a smirk, Jaemin patted the top of your head, then dropped his hand and angled your chin with his index finger. You faced each other, and you observed his expression changing.

“Now, your turn?” he asked with a bit of danger in his voice.

You swallowed, but didn’t hold him back. You were in for a wild ride.

That was until Jaemin’s phone rang and he needed to interrupt your act. You wanted him to ignore it, but he had already told you beforehand that he was expecting an important call. Just talk about timing…

You wondered what it could be about when you arose after Jaemin had left the room to go to another and take the call. It was kind of a long conversation as you only remembered how you went on to lie in bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone and losing track of time. The next moment, when Jaemin came out again, it was already dark.

You were standing by the window now, the snow still hadn’t stopped falling. As a matter of fact, it was snowing even harder, and you wondered whether by tomorrow morning, the snow would have put a white blanket over the whole country.

“What happened?” you asked, unsure what to read out of Jaemin’s undefined expression.

That was until he broke out into a beam, closed the short distance between you and swept you off your feet. He had his hands placed under your ribs and swung you around with your feet dangling above the floor. 

You laughed and asked, after he had placed you down again, “Will you tell me what happened now?”

“Great news!” Jaemin declared with your hands remaining in his. “That was a producer who’s called me. I’ve been sending demos to different companies for years now, and finally this one is interested in my music! The producer wants to meet me tomorrow, isn’t it great?!”

“Oh, Jaemin! That’s amazing to hear!”

“I know, right?I have to prepare a few things for tomorrow since I have to drive to Gwangju where the company is located, do you mind?” He suddenly drew his brows together and looked very concerned. “I know we had dinner plans, but…”

You immediately shook your head. Of course, disappointment sank into your stomach as you had especially looked forward to this fancy dinner with him. It was your last night together as you were supposed to go home the next day, but another part, a bigger part, didn’t want to be so selfish. She knew that music had always been Jaemin’s dream, and if he could make it his main occupation, who were you to stop him?

“I’m gonna make up for it!” he immediately apologized, led your hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “Tomorrow, fancy brunch or lunch before you leave?”

You nodded, very well aware of the fact that knowing Jaemin for the passionate man that he was, neither brunch or lunch would take place tomorrow. Somehow, it was all high school again, but you were more mature now and there was no room for your own, selfish needs.

Jaemin let go of you and dedicated himself to his music station where he gathered together a few documents. “Imagine,” he then summoned, “if it’s really going to work out and I am really going to be big with my band, we could play so many shows or even do a tour - maybe internationally too! And I would take you with me of course! To America!”

“Jaemin, I have a dog to take care of and a job I’m really dedicated to, you know that. I cannot be on the road for months.” Had he forgotten the words from last night where he had offered to move to the capital for you? Had your wants been overshadowed by his daydreams once again like back in the days?

“Oh yeah…” He scratched the back of his head, but then beamed again. “Don’t worry, we’ll find a solution!”

Again, he was proposing something so far off into the future without asking what you wanted. Aside from the fact that you liked living a domestic life with a stable job and a routine, you didn’t want to be separated from your dog. Or your family, especially your grandmother yet.

And that was what Jaemin didn’t get… again. Just like the fact that you couldn’t think of another marriage already when you were still with one foot inside your current one.

He was impulsive, dreamy and so demanding. But this was what you had wanted, right? Someone to take things into his own hands and consider you in his future, whether you fit in or not.

“Yes, we’ll find a solution,” you eventually replied as he was expecting an answer. And who knew, perhaps you would really find one.

Jaemin turned back to this work and rambled on about how great of a life you two would have together.

Would you, though?

Your current life as it was, was already perfect for you. Just the man in it hadn’t been.

____

With shaking hands, you swiped over your phone screen until, from your blurry vision, you finally saw your husband’s name pop up. Hubby and a heart next to it. You still hadn’t changed it, and for now, you were glad for that as it had made finding his contact easier.

It was only 7am on a sunday, but you knew Jaehyun would pick up no matter how early or late, no matter what, regardless of your dispute from the day before. He had promised.

“Grandmother is in the hospital,” you cried into the phone the moment the ringing stopped. “And I- I can’t go back. I-I don’t have a car and I’m in J-Jeonju, the trains are not running because of the heavy snowfall and I don’t know how to get back, how to get to my grandmother. Jaehyun… C-can you-”

It was rustling on the other line and from your peripheral, you could see Jaemin watching you with a displeased face. 

No questions asked. Jaehyun’s voice was still so deep and raspy as you had just woken him up, but his head was as clear as ever. “Send me the address, I’ll take the car and come pick you up.”

“Th-there is snow everywhere! It’ll probably take hours.”

He didn’t ask why Jaemin wouldn’t drive you or why Jaehyun himself should do this even though you were separated. At this moment, none of this mattered except the fact that he needed to bring you to your grandmother. 

“I don’t care.” There was some noise on his end of the line, and you could have sworn you also heard a female whispering something, but none of this mattered. “I’ll get going now and will text you the estimated arrival time.”

He didn’t care about the weather, the amounts of snow blocking the streets, whether he would even get through the traffic, none of this mattered.

“Thank you,” you whispered through your sobs.

It was like he still wanted to say something, but only brought himself to end the call with, “See you.”

Jaemin waited for you to finish typing the address for Jaehyun first before he spoke up. “I wish I could change things.”

“You can!” you yelled at him, having suppressed your anger for an hour already.

At 6am, you had been unexpectedly awakened by a call from your mother that held unfortunate news you never wished upon anyone to ever receive: Your grandmother was in the hospital as she had fallen in the bathroom that night and had been unconscious for a few hours before she could call anyone for help.

And Jaemin’s reaction? 

He fell into silence again.

“You can change things, but you don’t want to,” you repeated through tears and fled out of the bed as you couldn’t physically bear being close to him anymore.

“That’s not it…” His feeble attempts to defend himself were all to no avail as expected. “It’s just a once in a lifetime chance, if I need to cancel, I might not be able to…”

“My grandmother can also live just this lifetime! I only have her for one lifetime,” you hissed, not sparing him a single glance as you started to throw your belongings into your bag. “She’s fighting for her life in the hospital and you think your music appointment is more important than driving me there? It’s only in the evening, and you’re worried you won’t make it back to your appointment on time, because of the snow?”

“We called your parents and the hospital already.” His voice got louder, more determined now, though it was nothing compared to yours. “She’s fine. You can probably take the train by midday, maybe even forenoon, anyway. I’m just being realistic.”

“You just don’t get it, don’t you? Probably because no one has ever been this important to you.”

The moment you had spoken the words out loud, you already regretted it, but an apology refused to pass your lips as Jaemin only said,

“You are this important to me.”

“I don’t believe you as you cannot even do this for me.”

His music was more important, his career and everything connected to it. It would always, always come first, and this was something that was never going to change, and had never changed, you saw it clearly now. 

Your relationship in your adulthood was merely a projection of what it had already been in high school.

Nothing had changed.

____

Jaehyun picked you up from a nearby café four hours later. 

You had directly left Jaemin’s apartment the moment you had gathered all your belongings and hadn’t looked back - neither had he. He hadn’t changed his mind about the situation and he hadn’t tried to hold you back, no matter how much you had wished for it. 

You were standing in front of the café, still in your joggers and with tousled hair, freezing to your bones as the snow touched your naked ankles, but at least Jaehyun was here, regardless of the weather, his appointments and the time.

He was here.

He had always been here. 

You had just been too blind to see it.

The moment he opened the car door at your side, you broke out into tears again, unable to move, and it caused him to actually get out of the car himself to then approach you. 

Suddenly, it got so warm around you despite the weather, and even with your teary eyes closed you realized that Jaehyun had pulled you into an embrace. With his slender fingers, he brushed over the back of your head in a comforting gesture as you sobbed into his jacket.

“Your grandmother will be fine,” he whispered into your hair, unaware of the fact that you were currently not crying over your grandmother anymore, but over the fact that he was here regardless of how ridiculous it might sound.

He had made it through the snow chaos and traffic just to bring you home safely. If this wasn’t what your marriage vows had been about, then what was? Was that what your grandmother had been talking about?

You had two hours to think about it as you made your way back to the capital. There were many things you wanted to ask Jaehyun. How serious it was with that woman, if she was mad he had suddenly left her for his soon-to-be ex-wife and if he himself was mad that he was here now. But first and foremost…

“Why did you come?”

“I told you, you could always call me. No matter how late… or early in this case, I’ll always be there. Despite that, I care about your grandmother and your entire family, too. For a large part of my life, they were also my family.”

“They will always be, Jaehyun.”

“I know.”

His gaze was too focused on the street ahead of you as though it was taking him everything in his might to just keep his eyes averted from you. The majority of the snow had been cleared from the streets already so that cars could drive without many obstacles again. 

“Are you sure about it?” you repeated from your disrupted phone call the day before. “Are you sure about the divorce?”

“Why does it matter?” he asked back strictly. “Haven’t you moved on with my former best friend already, this time for good, because he’s changed so much?”

“That’s not an answer, Jaehyun.”

You had no reason to feel so attacked, but it still hurt, because he was wrong, even though Jaehyun didn’t know it yet. Jaemin hadn’t changed at all, and you were too proud to admit it. Perhaps though, you had overreacted as well. Perhaps, everything would have gone so well if only you had been calmer and more rational, and had actually listened to Jaemin. Perhaps, you had done Jaemin so wrong. 

But Jaehyun was now in the car, driving you back home, and not Jaemin, right? Jaehyun was here, and not Jaemin.

“On the way to Jeonju,” he started, “I had a few hours to think about everything. Have we given it all? Was a divorce really our last solution? What could I have done differently, what could you have differently for us to avoid this outcome. And I just… couldn’t come up with an answer. 

“Which means, on the contrary, perhaps a divorce was not a solution either,” you concluded. “But we’ve lived in separation for half a year at that point, Jaehyun. And we were fine with it. We’ve had many talks, so why are we here, ripping open this wound again? What’s the purpose? I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that it only took one weekend for us to doubt this decision.”

“Perhaps, there is none,” he said, and shrugged. “Perhaps, it’s all about what makes us happy, after all. And finding out you lied to me and spent the weekend with him, didn’t make me happy at all.”

Now that he was so honest with you, you could be honest with him too. “I also wasn’t happy when you told me you would get a female visitor this weekend.”

A long pause followed the conversation before you confessed,

“But you picking up the phone and being here with me now, makes me really happy.”

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, “I’m also happy you called me and didn’t rely on him.”

He didn’t ask what exactly had happened with Jaemin, and you also didn’t ask him about the other woman when you arrived at his empty home much later that day to pick up your dog after having visited your grandmother together first. 

She didn’t get hurt except for a bruise by her hip and would be fine after being taken care of in the hospital for a few days. You visited her every day for one week straight, but on neither of these days did you see Jaehyun or Jaemin.

The fact that you were disappointed would be an understatement, but you were too caught up with everything going on at this point that you couldn't waste too many unnecessary thoughts in their behaviors.

____

A week later, you and your mother returned home with your grandma. Despite her refusing your offer, you had still insisted on taking one week off from work and living with her, just in case something could happen again and until she regained her health. 

Nevertheless, you as a family had all agreed on hiring a caretaker that would look after her half a day and who would start right after your week off with her. After a few attempted protests from your grandma’s side though, she had eventually given in as well.

“Where’s all the food I requested?” you asked in astonishment as you opened shelf after shelf in your grandmother’s kitchen, but each of them you found empty. “Didn’t father and uncle do grocery shopping? I made an entire list for them and they knew she’d return today.”

“Oh, they were busy last night,” your mother explained after she had taken your grandmother to her bedroom. “They’ll do it later today.”

You rolled your eyes as you tried to fight the wave of reproach against your family. “Busy with watching football all night long probably. What did they think would happen when we came back home with grandmother? There are no ingredients to make food for her and when I looked into the bathroom, she had also run out of toilet paper. What were they thin-”

“Honey…” Your mom placed her hands on your shoulders to calm you down, but somehow, her not getting as heated up as you was making you even more disappointed. Were you the only one who cared? “Please be reassured that everything is going to be fine.”

“How?” you asked back, a tinge of anger in your voice. “We come back and the sheets are not washed, we have nothing we can make food of for her and we cannot even-”

Your mom exhaled deeply as she tried to convince you again, “Let’s just order the most important necessities online, okay? Then your father and uncle will bring the rest later today, it’s really not a big deal.”

“Sweetheart, will you come here, please?” you heard your grandmother suddenly disrupt your conversation. 

You let out a long sigh, threw another glare at your mom and then left for the bedroom.

“I’m sorry, grandma,” you apologized as you popped into her bedroom with your head first. “I will go to the store right now to bring you the necessities. You don’t need to worry about this, please relax.”

“I do not worry about this,” she reassured you. “I feel so fine here. And you do not need to worry that much either, it’s all going to be fine.”

“No,” you cried out and shook your head, tears welling up on the brim of your eyes. All your feelings came crashing down on you at once, feelings that you had tried to push aside for an entire week. “Nothing is ever going to be fine again!”

You sat down by her bedside and dropped your head. Her soft, warm hand found your fingers and gave them a comforting squeeze. “Is this about your husband?”

“Yes,” you admitted, and ‘no’ you wanted to say simultaneously as this wasn’t about your husband alone. Perhaps, now ex-husband on official papers even. “Why did he never show up again after going to the hospital with me the first day? I thought… he still cared, not only about me, but about you too. I’m so disappointed. I thought he was different.”

The last sentence was dedicated to both of them, though you confessed silently to yourself that you had never expected this from Jaehyun, out of the two. 

“But dear… he did come.”

You lifted your head and wiped away a tear that had dangled on the corner of your eye as you faced your grandmother with much surprise. “What are you saying, grandma?”

“He came every single day in the morning before work, we talked for half an hour when I was awake. I thought you knew?”

You had no idea, and looking at your grandma now, who was grinning widely and also a bit sneakily, made you assume that perhaps, she had kept it a secret on purpose - because the effect, when you found out, would be so much more impactful.

And it was.

“Grandma, I had no idea…”

“That’s why I asked you, before you decided to separate, did you really give it your all and tried everything possible to fix your marriage before moving on? Because, as far as I can see, you’re not the only one not ready to do so entirely.”

“I… I can’t say. I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter anymore, grandma,” you eventually said. “Even if we both wanted it, it’s too late. He has probably already signed the papers and sent them out.”

“Fine. But don’t forget my words. If, at some point in your life, you realize that you have made the wrong decision, don’t hesitate for a single second and tell him.” She leaned back into the pillows. “It’s almost afternoon, I want to sleep. Can you close the door behind you then, dear?”

“Of course.” You gave her a kiss on the forehead and quietly walked out of her room.

Back in the kitchen, you saw your mom sitting at the table, scrolling through her phone. Why was she not up and about yet to do some grocery shopping or at least call your father to do the trip? You were fed up by now, fueled by your grandmother’s words too.

“Mom, I’m going to the store and I’ll take your car.”

“Okay.”

That was it. You knew she had had a lot on her plate too, but why did everyone not take this situation seriously enough? 

When you put on your jacket as it was freezing outside, you wondered whether you were overreacting and just putting all your time and energy into this situation, moving here and taking care of things, just so you didn’t need to think about how your own life was falling apart. As long as you could take care of someone else, you didn’t need to face your own problems. Hadn’t this been the root of your downfall as well?

After all, when you returned home after this week, you would get a call from your lawyer to confirm that the divorce was through. You had specifically requested for him not to call while you were here.

What then, after that? Then, you were a divorced woman, and you weren’t ready to settle with this term yet.

“Careful!”

You nearly ran into a tall figure when you opened the entrance door. A familiar scent touched your nose, strong hands holding you by your arms so that you could keep your balance after the impact. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked Jaehyun as your gaze simultaneously scanned his appearance, and you spotted two big bags of groceries to either of his sides on the floor. 

“I thought since your grandmother would come home today, you would need a helping hand,” he stated and pointed at the grocery bags. You saw toilet paper, rice, water, and other necessities peeking out. “I didn’t know what to buy, so I just brought a bit of everything. Is that… okay?”

You couldn’t help yourself but fell into his arms, hot tears streaming down your cheeks. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulder, and suddenly, this entire situation didn’t seem so difficult and hopeless anymore.

You had felt so left alone, like you had overreacted and that your feelings weren’t valid. But now your husband was here, having shown up in ways nobody else was. Your feelings were valid, they had always been to him.

Perhaps, your grandmother had been right all along. 

No, you hadn’t tried everything possible, because this clearance came way too late now, and you couldn’t apologize anymore for sometimes being a selfish, spoiled brat that had demanded much more from her husband than he was able to give. And always, you had wanted more and more.

Your views on life and the way you wanted to live it had started to take separate roads and you had thought this was not fixable anymore, but was that really what mattered after all?

It wasn’t about who was there for you all the time. Your problems couldn’t have been solved in that way either. That was why it couldn’t have worked out with Jaemin too. It wasn’t about this at all.

It was about who showed up during the times you truly needed someone. And it was always Jaehyun. When you needed support, a helping hand or someone to call during an emergency, he had always been there.

If you needed someone at all times, it could be anyone. But if you needed someone when times were hard, it was Jaehyun.

It had always been Jaehyun. 

“Your grandma is going to be fine,” Jaehyun whispered and gently patted the back of your head.

But you weren’t crying over your grandmother anymore, but about your failed marriage.

Because yes, you regretted it deeply and had not given it your all.

Because now, it was too late.

Neither of you spoke about the divorce papers that day.

____

Jaehyun didn’t come over anymore and neither did you reach out to him during the week you lived with your grandmother. 

You were determined to make it on your own from then on. Very soon, you were an official divorcée and single dog mom, so it was better to start early with this new lifestyle. Knowing you too well, Jaehyun might have already sensed it as he was leaving you completely alone during that time.

You brought Kang Kang with you to live and thus your days started with walking your dog before helping your grandmother get ready and preparing breakfast that you eventually ate together just like the other meals. Even though your grandmother was still able to do most things by herself, you noticed how slower, shakier and sometimes disoriented she had become. 

Time was not stopping, for nobody.

During the day you were occupied with doing chores, taking care of paperwork as well as your grandmother and Kang Kang. At the end of each day, you fell into your bed, absolutely exhausted and tired. Your mind was always occupied as well and there was no space for other things except for those brief moments during nighttime when you were alone and neither busy in a physical way or in your mind.

Then, you stared at the ceiling and wept.

Because you missed Jaehyun so badly and wished for him to be with you. You would have done anything for him to be here right now, but your marriage was over and you needed to move on without him. 

Everyday with this realization was hard, but luckily, no day grew harder than the day before. Eventually, they would only grow brighter.

That was your silver lining. 

____

Realizing that you wanted to be with Jaehyun after all, meant in retrospect that you couldn’t be with Jaemin. And just because you couldn’t be with Jaehyun, didn’t mean you should be with Jaemin. That was not how it worked, unfortunately.

“Hey, it’s me,” you spoke on the phone, watching the skyline from your window the first night you had returned to your home. 

He had promised to always pick up when you called, but this time, he hadn’t. You were struggling to come to terms with the fact that he indeed didn’t want to be reached by you either this time. Perhaps, not anymore at all.

You remembered why you had married Jaehyun.

You had married him, because he took care of the people he loved, because he made things seem more bearable when they weren’t and because when he said he would pick up whenever you called, he actually did. That was not a void Jaemin could just fill.

You would always search for a Jaehyun in his eyes, and that was not fair, because he was not. He was Jaemin, an entirely different person. And there was a person out there that would be perfect for him, too.

“I just wanted to tell you that this is the last time you will ever hear from me.” Softly, Kang Kang was snoring in the corner, filling the pause that then followed.

Maturing was realizing that just because you wanted to be with someone, you shouldn’t be with them. Maturing was realizing that only because you didn’t want to be alone, you should be with someone. Maturing was realizing that even on the third try, some people still weren’t meant to be together.

Tears sprang from your eyes, but your voice gave no hint of it. “Truth to be told, I am very disappointed that you never showed up again… called me, or at least sent a message, asked me how we are. It was a very hard time for me and you just… weren’t there.”

But someone else had been. You dried your cheeks with the back of your hand. 

“Yes, I could have messaged or called you too… but why should I have when I was the one suffering? Admittedly, I also didn’t need to. I handled it all myself very well. That made me realize… I wanted this, Jaemin. I wanted this so much, with you. But I didn’t need it. I don’t need you. And the past weeks made me realize that you feel the same. You don’t need me either.”

You could live without Jaehyun and you could live without Jaemin, you just had to be strong enough to make it on your own now that you had neither. 

And you would make it on your own. 

You had the drive, passion and strength all within you, you just had failed to notice for so long. After all, you had been able to take care of your grandmother, dog and everyone around you for the past weeks. So taking care of yourself wouldn’t be harder than that.

Had you broken down and experienced weak moments? Yes, several times. But that had only made you stronger.

“I’m strong and not afraid, I will always make it on my own. And you will make it too. Go out into the world, perhaps even travel to America where you always wanted to go, make your dream about music come true… I wish for you to achieve everything you’ve ever wanted, with my whole heart.” You swallowed hard and added, “It’s just not going to be with me. I don’t know where my place is yet, but it’s not by your side.”

For now, your best companion was yourself. And your dog. And actually, that was enough.

You finished speaking on the mailbox with, “Goodbye, Jaemin.”

You didn’t hesitate to delete his number and block him all across social media. This time, for good.

The fact that you cried yourself to sleep that night would be your own little secret to keep, but it would also be the very last time you would find yourself in a position to cry over Jaemin, ever.

The next morning, you felt free. The air was clear and crisp. It was cloudy, but not snowing. Thank god.

____

“I apologize for having to tell you this, but Mr. Jeong hasn’t signed the divorce papers.”

“Pardon me?” 

It had been a dreadful feeling to take the call from your lawyer the next morning. The more surprised you were about the actual message he had just passed down to you. Your breath caught.

“His lawyer told me he refuses to sign them and sent them back to me unsigned, that’s why I couldn’t send them to you yet.”

You frowned as you suddenly turned utterly confused. “But why? What did he say? Is there something he still wants to negotiate over?”

“They didn’t tell me, just that he refuses to sign them. I’ll resolve this for you, be at ease.”

“Don’t,” you held him back. “I’ll do it myself.”

“You’re not allow-”

But you had already hung up and were halfway out of the door, he didn’t even come to end his sentence.

____

Not even an hour later, you were standing in front of Jaehyun’s apartment door, ringing the bell like a maniac. He looked at you like he had expected you already as you stood in front of him with your arms folded in front of your chest.

“Took you long enough.”

“Care to explain to me why you sent the documents back unsigned?”

“Come inside,” he invited you calmly.

Your eyes narrowed. “Your girlfriend doesn't mind?”

“We haven’t seen each other since that weekend… and I rather want it to stay this way.”

Your heart jumped. That basically meant they weren’t together anymore, you concluded as you followed him into his apartment and took your shoes off in the corridor. 

“What about Jaemin?” 

“Same.”

It seemed that you both didn’t want to talk about your past lovers, and even though you were curious, if he had to elaborate, then you needed to as well, and there was no way you would ever want to live through the past weeks again.

“I was thinking about our conversation in the car back from Jeonju,” he began as he shifted around to face you the moment you arrived in the living room, “about what makes me happy. When we were separated, we didn’t see each other, and I was happy living a life I haven’t gotten a taste of before. I was happy doing new stuff, trying out new things, being untied from you. Because what made me unhappy… was you.”

Your eye twitched as you didn’t know whether you should feel offended now. But when you let the words sink in and contemplated them, you felt exactly the same. Seeing and spending time with your husband had dreaded you of all your energy and happiness as you two had forgotten how to be happy together anymore.

And you told him exactly that now.

“I agree.” He nodded. “And then I thought about what made me really unhappy. Because up until two weeks ago, I was really happy. And then came you, and you made me feel so miserable.”

You drew your brows together, not quite sure if you had heard right. But you had, and it stung. No, it actually hurt very much that it took all your might to refrain yourself from crying right now. “I… still make you unhappy?”

But Jaehyun’s facial expression didn’t match his words as he nodded. His features were soft, a slight smile playing around his lips. There was no way he could find this amusing?

“It makes me unhappy to see you unhappy. It makes me unhappy to see you suffering because of your grandmother and simultaneously getting mistreated by the guy who is supposed to make you happy. Because if he can’t do it, who will? I was just too blind to see this.”

You dropped your gaze. Jaehyun had. He had shown up in ways nobody else ever had. Just to… see you happy, because he couldn’t stand the thought of you being sad and miserable?

Knowing he was pushing so far, he didn’t wait for you to reply, but instead wanted to know, “What makes you unhappy?”

“When you’re not with me.”

With slow steps, he approached you until he stood tall and calm in front of you. You lifted your head and looked into his clear and sincere eyes.

“Please don’t ask me what will make me happy, Jaehyun,” you pleaded him straight-forwardly. “Because I’m not sure whether you’d like the answer.”

“What if I’d like to hear it?”

You furrowed in worry. “At all cost?”

Jaehyun inhaled sharply as though in tension, but his soft features remained. 

“What if you don’t like it?” you asked.

“You will never know if you don’t try, right?”

‘If, at some point in your life, you realize that you have made the wrong decision, don’t hesitate for a single second and tell him.’ You remembered your grandmother’s words too well.

He didn’t expect it though when you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him down to you. 

He still tasted exactly like in your memories.

____

“Are you excited, Kang Kang?” 

Your dog yelped and ran around in circles. You patted his head when he eventually came to a standstill in front of you and looked up to you with big eyes.

“Are you excited to live with your dad again?”

As though in response, Kang Kang started to whirl around again and you laughed. Lately, you found yourself laughing very often, and every time it came from deep within you with all sincerity and happiness. 

In the past two weeks, your grandmother had started to settle with her new caretaker so that you could cut down your visits to once or twice a week, because you were currently busy moving houses. But each time, Jaehyun came with you, and your grandmother was overjoyed.

You had decided to move into a new home together that wasn’t riddled with memories of a very unpleasant phase in your marriage that had almost ended it for good. It was just as big and beautiful as this apartment, but you had already agreed that that one would only be a temporary home as well.

Maybe, not too far in the future, you could move outside of the city where Kang Kang would have a garden to run around in and where he would have playmates, maybe both, a boy and girl.

You blushed at the thought and looked at the engagement ring and wedding band that you had been wearing again since the day you had found out that your husband had never signed the divorce papers.

Just because you could make it on your own didn’t mean you wanted and needed to. After all, you had given a vow to each other, because somewhere in the past, you were so happy, you had agreed on spending the rest of your lives with each other. And that meant something, so much more than anyone not married could imagine. 

You weren’t walking down the aisle thinking you’re going to get divorced. You got married, because this was supposed to be forever.

Yes, it was right that it took much less to turn “Till death do us part” into “Till your lack of time for me do us part”, but unlike the worst case scenario, everything else was fixable. 

The movers were busy carrying down the last boxes with your stuff while you put Kang Kang on a leash. Looking around your old apartment for one last time, you bid farewell to this home of yours that not only bore bliss, but also destruction. But you had come out of it stronger, better than before.

You wouldn’t say that all your differences were now solved by deciding to get back together. Love alone couldn’t magically make them disappear, that was not how it worked. But you had talked long about this, what you needed to get back to where you had once been.

You had thought of your grandmother’s words every so often. No, you had not given it all yet, you eventually had to admit to her personally too, and she had only smiled, as though in knowing. Jaehyun and you both still had, apart from love of course, the passion, the determination, the strength. And hope. 

As long as there was that, your marriage was fixable.

And this time, you would make sure nothing would do you part again.

“The movers are ready, so we should get to the car. Here, let me take Kang Kang.”

Your heart was full of love and hope too when Jaehyun appeared at your door with a smile and took the leash from you after giving you a kiss on your cheek. 

Jaehyun was a husband who took care of things, so that you wouldn’t need to. Wasn’t this what marriage was about? Making each other’s lives easier and happier, because life itself was already hard enough.

Your grandmother had realized this very early. What a woman.

You didn’t think of Jaemin that often anymore. Only every now and then, he involuntarily crossed your mind and tugged on your heartstrings as a strong memory that day by day slowly faded, too. His face became blurry when you tried to remember his exact features, and eventually, he would only be a flash of a picture among a string of memories when you thought back to this time. As it had always been.

The only difference was that you had shut down every possibility of reaching out on either side. When you caught yourself wanting to unblock him and look him up on social media, you put your phone aside and let the feeling pass. It really worked wonders.

And one day, even this urge would perish.

When you stepped onto the streets that were still layered with a thin sheen of snow and ice, you noticed that the sun was shining and a touch of spring lingered in the air. The temperature would start to get warmer soon as well.

Your husband helped Kang Kang into the back of the car before he circled it and opened the door for you. And that was it, the huge difference. So subtle, but so grave all at once, it nearly made your heart burst.

“Are you ready to go home?” Jaehyun asked.

And finally, you answered, “Yes, I really want to go home.”  

Winter was still here, but in your heart, it was already summer when your husband took your hand.

You wanted rays of sunshine, warm breezes, salt on your skin and the chanting of crickets.

You wanted it to always be summer.

You wanted your husband.

____

One month prior

Jaemin had followed you all the way back to Seoul that very same day your grandmother had been admitted to the hospital, ditching the biggest opportunity in his entire life after all.

After he had seen you so disappointed and sad, mostly because of him, your expression hadn’t left his mind for hours. When it dawned on him what he was doing to you, letting you down in a very crucial situation, he wanted to beat himself up for being such a selfish idiot once again and had directly made his way to the café where you had fled to. But when he had arrived, you were already gone. 

Following you all the way to Seoul, he had been thinking of all the ways he could make it up to you. He had booked a hotel in the city and prepared to stay there for as long as you needed him. But when he had arrived, he saw you in front of the hospital and you weren’t alone. 

You had been with your husband and he had held you close as you cried in his arms, he had seen it all from his car.

He was too late again, he had thought. But when he had looked closer, the way Jaehyun was holding you and consoling you, he knew that timing wasn’t the problem, it had never been. 

You couldn’t be hugged like this by anyone. Jaemin couldn’t embrace you the way Jaehyun did, and it turned out to be a painful realization for him. It couldn’t be him, it also couldn’t be anyone else. It had to be Jaehyun.

It had always been Jaehyun.

___

“May I come in?”

Jaemin stood in front of Jaehyun’s door later that fateful day after you had left with your dog, facing his former best friend in person for the first time in many years. 

Occasionally, he would look at his social media after he had found out on a random day that Jaehyun had unblocked him and vice versa. Somehow, they still wanted to know what the other was up to, who they were up to with. The irony of that.

Jaehyun remained quiet, but pushed the door open for him. 

“Why are you here?” Jaehyun then asked him when they reached the living room. “She’s not here.”

“I know,” Jaemin answered. “I came for you.”

“So?” He braced his arm against the table and leaned back. “The invitations for the tea party are not out yet.”

“There is no need to be so condescending.” At this point, Jaemin was just so tired and wanted to leave this all behind him. “After today, I will be out of your lives, forever.”

“Sounds tempting. But as you know, we will be officially divorced soon, so she’s all yours to have.”

“But I’m not the one she needs.”

Jaehyun drew his brow together. “You’re the one she wants to be with.”

He smiled mildly and repeated, “But I’m not the one she needs. We don’t need to be together a fourth time to figure this out. You show up in ways I will never be able to, you’re the one she needs, even if she doesn’t see it yet.”

“Well… you’re too late.” Jaehyun shrugged. “I’ll sign the papers and will send them to my lawyer tomorrow. You think she’s some puppet you can toss around when you’re done playing just to pick her up again when it’s convenient for you? That’s not how relationships work.”

“I know.” Jaemin dropped his head in regret. “I’ve never wanted all of this. I’ve always wanted the best for…”

“...yourself,” Jaehyun ended the sentence aloud.

“... her,” Jaemin ended the sentence in his head.

And even though everything was different now, even though he had evolved and grown so much as a person, it was easier to let them believe that he was still the selfish, hard-headed Jaemin from the past. 

After all, he couldn't hold her like Jaehyun to make her feel so happy. 

It had to be someone particular. It had to be him.

And if he would be gone, then no one could make her happy anymore.

So Jaemin dashed forward and grabbed his former friend by the collar. Jaehyun was too perplexed to instantly react and just faced his opposite with a shocked expression.

“Listen up,” Jaemin growled, “if you send out signed divorce papers, I will come for you in the worst way possible. If you don’t rekindle this marriage with her, I will make your life a living hell. We might not like each other anymore, but we both love her, and if I ever see you making her sad again, you can dig your own grave. You will fix this marriage, no matter the cost, are we in the clear?”

He slowly let go of Jaehyun after luring out a reluctant nod from him. Latter cleared his throat and asked, “... but, do you think she even still wants to be with me?”

This time, Jaemin’s smile was sincere. “I’m absolutely sure about that. Show her again the reason why she was picking you over me, again and again. Remind her of all the traits that make you so much better for her than me, and she will choose you again. If she hasn’t already. Or do you not want t-”

“I do!” Jaehyun blurted out. “I absolutely do.”

Jaemin stretched out his arm and gave his former friend’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “Very well.”

When he made his way to the door, Jaehyun stopped him with the words, “Thank you. Honestly.”

Initially, he wanted to turn around, but it was starting to burn behind his eyes, so Jaemin kept his back turned to Jaehyun and said,

“Don’t make me regret this.”

____

Jaemin threw his phone into the bushes on his way out.

So, what now?

He turned his head to the sky, and even though the tears started streaming down his face now, he tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket and smiled through the blurriness. The wind was cold and burned his wet cheeks, and suddenly, it started snowing again.

This pain would vanish, he was sure of that. When you had fixed your marriage, got children and grew old together, his pain would eventually pass in this timeline. 

Yet, at that moment, it felt like it ripped Jaemin’s heart to shreds, even to the point where he wondered if he was actually tricking himself into believing that he would be fixed again or had to live the rest of his life with this ache slowly eating him up from the inside until there was nothing left of him anymore except for the frayed edges of his once so lively soul.

Jaemin took a deep breather and swallowed the next wave of tears.

He had no regrets, despite everything. And he still had hope. As long as there was that and he was able to hold onto these faint strings, he would continue on.

A fresh start, that was what he needed now as he trotted to his car. Far away from you and Jaehyun so that your paths would never cross again in this lifetime. That was the last selfless act he could still offer to you.

America sounded good.

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

Just a...FRIEND!?

Yandere Wally x reader x yandere dick

The rooftop was quiet, save for the occasional gust of wind and the distant hum of Gotham’s endless noise. You leaned on the railing, gazing out over the city, a carefree smile tugging at your lips as you hummed to yourself. The last rays of the sun had already dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky with a pinkish hue, and everything felt almost too perfect—if not for the two figures approaching behind you.

Dick and Wally landed on the rooftop at nearly the same time, their movements so synchronized that it could’ve been a well-practiced routine. The two of them smiled at you, their faces lighting up in that way they always did when they saw you. You turned toward them, glowing with warmth.

"Hey, guys!" you said with your usual cheerful tone, your eyes sparkling with that innocent energy that could melt the coldest of hearts. "How’s it going?"

"We were just thinking," Dick began, stepping forward, his voice smooth and teasing, "that you’re way too adorable for Gotham’s dirty streets. You’re too pure to be out here alone."

"Yeah, you need us to keep you safe," Wally added, zipping around you in a blur of red and yellow, his smile mischievous. "Can’t have you running around like a lost puppy in this city. You might get...accidentally caught by someone bad."

You giggled at their usual antics, but before you could say anything else, you innocently dropped the bombshell that would change everything. "You two are the best friends anyone could ever ask for. Seriously, I’m so lucky to have you guys!"

Suddenly, the air went still. Both Dick and Wally froze in place, their eyes wide in cartoonish shock. They blinked a few times, exchanging a glance that screamed "Did they just say that?" Wally’s mouth opened and closed, as if the word ‘friends’ had short-circuited his brain, while Dick’s expression faltered like a malfunctioning lightbulb.

"F...friends?" Dick said slowly, his voice warping as if he were testing the word on his tongue, unsure whether it was something delicious or rotten. "Did you... did you just say we’re friends?"

"F-friends?" Wally repeated, his face transforming into exaggerated confusion, his hands thrown up in mock disbelief. "No, no, no! That’s not it, [Name]. That’s not it at all!"

You blinked, utterly oblivious to the storm of emotions raging in their heads. "Yeah! You know, because you’re always there when I need you," you added, oblivious to the panic you’d just unleashed. "You’re such good friends, really. I’m lucky!"

The two of them looked at each other again, and the moment was almost comedic. Their faces drooped in unison like two sad puppies, their shoulders slumping in exaggerated defeat. Wally took a few steps back, and then dramatically fell to his knees, clutching his chest as if your words had physically wounded him. "Not friends... not friends..." he repeated mournfully. "We’re not JUST your friends, [Name]. We’re everything."

Dick’s face contorted as if he were about to burst into tears, dramatically wiping a nonexistent tear from the corner of his eye. "Everything, [Name]. We’ve been by your side for so long, and you think we’re just your ‘friends’? Just your friends?" His voice cracked at the word “friends,” like it physically pained him to utter it.

You looked at the scene in front of you, your smile still shining brightly, not understanding the depth of their despair. You stepped closer, concerned now. "Oh no, I didn’t mean to hurt you guys! I just thought... well, you’re always so funny and caring, and I couldn’t imagine being without my best friends." You reached out to pat their heads like you would a couple of puppies.

At your touch, their heads both jerked back dramatically, as if you’d touched a live wire. Dick suddenly shot up, eyes wide and glowing with an intensity that only came from his overwhelming emotions, his voice rising comically. "You can’t think of us like that!" he practically whined, throwing his hands into the air, his whole body leaning toward you. "We’re so much more than that! SO MUCH MORE!"

Wally shot up as well, his eyes narrowed with playful but pointed seriousness. "Yeah, we’re not just your friends," he said, each word stretched out like a cartoon villain. "We adore you, [Name]! We’re practically your... your... guardians!"

"But you’re also... your only ones," Dick added in a theatrical whisper, stepping closer and lowering his voice for dramatic effect, as though to make sure you understood the weight of the statement.

The two of them stared at you, wide-eyed and utterly intense, their faces impossibly close to yours now, as if they might crumble under the weight of your response. And yet... you still didn’t catch on.

You blinked again, completely unaware of how much you’d just altered the delicate balance of their emotions. "Oh, I see! You both just want to make sure I’m safe, huh? You’re really nice," you said with a cheerful grin, completely missing the thick, cloud of despair hanging over them.

The exaggerated silence that followed was the only indication that perhaps... perhaps... something had gone terribly wrong.

(A/n: I'm imagining this in classic teen Titans style animation... )

[rin-may-1103]

The Wrong Robin Au (part five)

Previous | Master Post | Next

Danny sat back with a wince, watching as Bruce and his butler (The man introduced himself as Alfred) collected themselves. Jason's book was now sitting on a shelf, displayed for everyone to see. Bruce's desk was moved back into place, and the chairs were repositioned. There wasn't any evidence of what had just occurred.

"would you like me to get you a rag, young sir?" Alfred asked, turning to glance at Danny with a raised brow.

Danny lifted his hand and gently touched his nose, hissing when it stung and throbbed. Pulling his hand back, Danny found his fingers covered in blood.

Well, that was going to be hard to explain later...

"yeah, thanks." Danny finally agreed, moving his hand back to hopefully keep more of his blood from staining his hoodie. His ectoplasm was just begging him to heal it, but he held back, watching as Bruce turned to face him.

The man was no longer crying his little emo furry heart out or blinded with rage. Instead, he was standing still with a calculative gleam in his eyes. Danny just knew the man was going to do a background check as soon as Danny left. (Or when Danny wasn't paying attention, he was Batman after all. Who knows what he was going to do?)

It's a good thing there was nothing that connected him with Phantom. Besides the drop in grades and convenient absences, but that can be excused by the trauma of his accident and all the ghost fights. Otherwise, Danny would be screwed.

No one besides Jazz and Wes has been able to figure it out, and he'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much. He's retired now, or well, was retired. He might be getting back into the crime-fighting part again, but he was going to do everything in his power to keep from getting pulled back into ghost-fighting and dealing with the occult every day.

He could handle following Batman around at night and punching a few goons here and there, but the ghost fights? The world ending catastrophes? The annoying cult summoning? He didn't think he could handle it again. And sure, if there was no other option he would go out and protect the world. (It would be very shitty of him not to if he could do something when no one else could. He lived here too, you know.)

But that's not his job anymore. No, that's what the Justice League is for. (was for... He had forgiven them for not being there for him when it mattered. They were here now. So it was fine. No, it wasn't) They're the ones who are protecting Earth now. They're the ones who have to drop everything and help save the world. Not him. Not anymore.

Maybe he could think of this as a really shitty vacation? Then once he's sure Batman is stable and that Tim won't do something stupid, Danny could go back to Amity and figure out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. Maybe he could even go to college?

"Why are you here?" Bruce asked, his calculated eyes still boring into Danny's head. Danny, having gotten used to ghosts popping up and speaking to him at all hours of the day, didn't flinch as he glanced back up at Bruce.

"To keep you from killing yourself, seriously dude. Did you not hear when I told you earlier?" Danny spat, pointedly wiping the blood off his chin.

Bruce barely even moved, but Danny could tell he had winced. Sensing people's emotions was going to become one of the more useful powers he had, wasn't it?

...

How long was his nose going to bleed, again? Didn't broken noses stop bleeding after a few minutes?

His core flared in annoyance, finally making him remember a very important fact.

He was half dead. As in his body doesn't heal or change without the influence of his ectoplasm. This means he's going to keep bleeding until he either doesn't have any blood to bleed or he lets his ectoplasm heal it.

Great.

That's not going to make Bruce suspicious at all. Nope. Definitely not.

Focusing on his nose, Danny let his ectoplasm rush to the area and start healing it, but held it back before it could do more than stop the bleeding.

Alfred entered the room not even a second later, "here you go, young sir. Just hold it there for a minute while I prepare my med kit."

Danny grabbed the rag handed to him and pressed it to his nose, ignoring the sharp pain. He watched as Alfred placed his med kit on the side table and started digging through it. After a few minutes, Alfred leaned back and pulled on some gloves.

"let me have a look," he demanded, turning to kneel in front of Danny. Danny sighed, removed the rag, and leaned forward to let Alfred get a closer look. The man clicked his tongue, but gently grabbed his face and studied the injury.

Bruce shuffled awkwardly in the background, looking like a child waiting to get scolded. Good. He was a grown-ass man for crying out loud, he should get scolded for breaking Danny's nose.

"Alright, this will hurt," Alfred said, moving his hands to gently rest next to Danny's nose. Danny, having dealt with many broken noses before, looked away from the older man and stared Bruce dead in the eyes.

With sure but quick movements, Alfred straightened his nose with a loud crunch. Bruce's eyes narrowed as Danny bit his tongue, keeping any other sign of pain to himself.

"There," Alfred sighed, "it was a clean break, so you'll only have to keep some gause on it until you go to the doctor. Master Bruce?"

Bruce grunted, before finally looking over to his butler. "I'm fine, Alfred."

"good," Alfred nodded, "then I shall put on some tea. In the meantime, I recommend you two have a civil conversation."

Danny leaned back, taking the wet rag Alfred handed to him, and cleaned his face. Now that his nose looked normal, Danny allowed his ectoplasm to start healing it. He didn't plan on seeing Bruce again anytime soon, so any bruises or swelling he should have, won't matter.

Alfred finished placing his medical supplies away and held his hand out for the rags, once Danny gave them to him, the man swiftly left the room. bruce will probably want to test his blood later now that Danny thinks about it. Well, that's definitely something Batman would do, Danny thinks.

Oh well, it's not like his blood would reveal anything. It's literally just his human blood. Now if he was bleeding as Phantom? This would be a whole other problem.

"Who are you and how do you know who I am?" Bruce grunts, stepping closer to Danny in an attempt to be intimidating. And it would have been if Danny hadn't just watched the man breakdown ugly crying not even thirty minutes ago.

Rolling his eyes, Danny leaned back in his chair and huffed, "I told you this already. My name's Danny. I'm here to keep you from killing yourself. And it's pretty obvious who you are if you just think about it." Because it was obvious. Once Tim pointed it out to him, that is.

He wasn't about to just tell Batman that though, Tim didn't deserve to have the man breathing down his neck just for being smart enough to figure it out.

Before Bruce could respond, Danny's phone rang once, twice, then stopped. Glancing at the clock, Danny found it was only six. This meant, it was either Sam texting him to figure out where he was (which wasn't likely, since he usually disappeared in the mornings) or it was Tim.

Grabbing his phone, Danny unlocked it and was met with a message from Tim.

TIM: thanks for listening to me.

Before Danny could send a response, another text came through.

TIM: when did you want to meet up and discuss a plan? DANNY: tomorrow, after you get some sleep. TIM: I did! I took a nap! DANNY: not a long one. TIM: I'm not tired though! DANNY: Then pretend to sleep or something, I don't care. Could you just make sure you sleep before I text you tomorrow? please, kid? TIM: whatever. you're not even that much older than me, you know that right? Danny: sure kid.

"Who is that?" Bruce suddenly asks, making Danny glance up at him.

Shit, uh... "The kid I'm babysitting later."

You know what? That works. And it's technically true.

Bruce just hummed, allowing Danny to turn back to his phone.

TIM: I'm thirteen! DANNY: Yeah? Well, I'm seventeen, almost eighteen. Anyone under the age of fifteen is a literal baby. which makes you? that's right. a child. and what do children need? Sleep. They need sleep, Tim. TIM: I'm not a child! and if you've forgotten; I still have all the evidence proving that you're Robin. I'm petty enough to release it. DANNY: Go ahead. If it'll make you sleep at night.

Tim left him on read after not responding for a few minutes. Bruce had wandered over to his desk to work on something, probably Danny's background check.

Sighing, Danny sent a text to Sam letting her know he'd be busy for the rest of the morning and to let Tucker know. Once that was done, he shoved his phone into his pocket and stood up. Bruce glanced at him for a moment before going back to what he was doing, leaving Danny to look around the office.

Pictures were hanging on the wall, books covering the shelves, and random objects covering everything else. Basically, Bruce's office was filled with all sorts of things. Things that could give Danny an idea of who Bruce was as a person. Something he was going to need to know if he planned to stick around and help him. which he was. because he'd promised Tim that he would.

Reaching out, Danny picked up one of the photos and examined it. It was Bruce, Alfred, and some boy Danny didn't recognize, though they looked eerily like him. They could even pass as his clone if you squinted.

"Hey, Bruce," Danny started, "Who's this?"

Next

[thewitchblue]

"Yes, my mom is a witch. Yes, my birth parents sold me to her. No, I do not hate her. She treats me like I'm her own son. Does that answer all your questions?"

Tim asked with crossed arms. Batman and his family recently discovered you, his witch mum, and now refuse to let it go. They've been badgering him all day.

"How does that work? How did Bruce adopt you if you already have a family?"

Dick was so confused. How did Tim hide you for so long? How did he sneak out when he lives with a family of detectives? Tim merely sighed and explained,

"My mom told me it's okay. She said I'm magically hers, so a sheet of paper means nothing. She knew my path would always lead me here, so she didn't stop me. She trusts that I will make good decisions for myself."

You had kissed his forehead that day and gave him a hug before telling him he's always your baby and you want him to follow the path he forges for himself.

"Can we meet her?"

Dick asked. He wanted to know more about Tim's secret mother figure. Why did Tim keep you from them?

Tim paused. He didn't know how good of an idea that would be. He loved you dearly, but you are introverted like him. He wouldn't want to meet the family, especially with how huge it got over the years, so why would you want to meet them? Tim conceded,

"I'll ask her, but she would have to come here. Her home is impossible to break into with all the wards and all the magic she poured into our home -- that's irrelevant. I'll ask if she wants to come over. Don't be surprised if she popped in during dinner."

With all that said, Tim was out the door, leaving the family with millions of questions. They knew they wouldn't be able to trail Tim without him knowing. You seemed impossible to reach anyway.

You seemed to ponder Tim's request for what feels like forever. You love your solitude, but you decided that you love Tim more. You asked him seriously,

"Do you want me to go or are they forcing you to ask?"

Tim considered his feelings for a moment. Does he want to keep you selfishly to himself, or does he want to share? He's not sure. He's positive you would hit it off with Bruce, and that might lead to you joining the family and eventually tying him to them permanently. He admits,

"I'm not sure. You'd love them, but I don't trust that you'll be treated with the respect you deserve."

Your gaze softened and you lightly kissed his cheek. You told him,

"Little dove, you do not have to force me on the family if you don't want to. I love you and you are the only one to make this decision."

He didn't like that you turned the decision onto him, but he should have expected as much. You hated making decisions. He decided after a couple of minutes,

"I... I want you to meet them."

You took his hand in yours and teleported both of you into the manor. Tim hugged you tightly the entire time it took to teleport. He loved you, but teleporting sucks to experience. It feels like reality itself warped like one of the circus mirrors and suddenly poof.

You're standing in the middle of dinner, like he told them you would do. Tim's hand was still in yours as you looked through the room. Your eyes finally landed on Alfred, and you walked over to him.

"Well, it's lovely to meet you. You must be Bruce."

You took Alfred's hand in yours and shook it with a kind smile. The kids all snickered at the offended Bruce. It's partially true that Alfred is a father figure, but ouch.

"Miss, master Bruce is at the head of the table."

You didn't seem embarrassed at all as you walked to Bruce with Tim trailing behind you.

"I'm sorry about my abrupt entrance. It's good to meet the part-time father to my little dove."

Bruce watched you carefully. You seem like a nice person. No wonder Tim turned out so kind.

You sat down with Tim on one side and Dick on the other side. You took a deep breath before saying,

"Ask your questions."

Tim gave you a shocked look. You evaded questions like the plague. Why is it so different now?

Well, it's different because your Timmy cares about them, and they would obviously have a lot more personal questions than questions from a stranger.

"How did you meet Tim?"

Dick asked at your side. You smiled and looked at Tim with soft eyes. You delved into the story,

"He must have been two or three when his parents found me in the forest outside my house. Everybody knows about the witch in the woods who grants wishes for a price."

You sighed. You hate your reputation, but there's nothing you can do about it. You continued,

"A couple appeared with a toddler. I originally thought they would ask for an illness to go away in their child, but instead they offered the toddler holding his mother's hand in exchange for riches."

You frowned. Tim knew you always get upset by the story and wrapped an arm around you protectively.

"I thought to myself. 'Why would anyone offer me their child?' But, I ultimately decided he would be better off with me, so I accepted. I took tiny Tim in my arms, and he melted into my arms. It seemed like he had never been hugged before me, and it broke my heart. The magical contract was signed, and the couple walked off child-free and rich."

All eyes turned to Tim. He told them a different story of his childhood, but what did they expect? For him to disclose, his parents abandoned him to a witch and subsequently was raised by said witch? Sure, there are crazier backstories, but that would look terrible from any angle. It would look like a kidnapping when it was really more like saving. You saved Tim from the pain of growing up in a loveless home. You save him from the pain of cold isolation. You raised him, praised him, and adored him. He was your child, no matter the DNA.

You didn't even want kids until Tim was in your arms. You became the mother all children deserve to have regardless of your lack of desire for children.

The story seemed to satisfy most of their major questions. Jason eventually asked,

"Why did you let him join us?"

You smiled and ruffled Tim's hair affectionately, who grumbled in a very disgruntled tone.

"This one loved Batman, and he thought he needed a Robin. I told him to follow his own path. He'll always be my son, both magically and in our hearts."

Bruce was beginning to like you. However, they were all a bit salty about the fact that none of them have a mother. Dick grinned and elbowed Bruce.

"That just means you have to give us a mother to make it even. Tim can't be the only one with a mom."

You laughed, but Tim looked like he was contemplating bringing you into a relationship with Bruce. Bruce asked,

"Would the magic transfer if you got married?"

You shook your head. You decided to be kind and elaborated,

"Tim is strictly mine for as long as I live according to the signed contract I made with his original parents."

Bruce didn't like that Tim isn't his son and never will be. You gave a contemplating hum. Technically, there is a way, but it would never happen. You weren't very interested in the second option. Still, you told him,

"Unless we married magically. Then we are tied together, and that means Tim would be tied to my husband indirectly. He would still have no real authority, but he'd have a small claim over him."

That caught Bruce's attention. He has a chance to keep Tim more permanently. He asked,

"What does it mean to marry magically? What's the difference?"

You quirked an eyebrow at him. Why was he so curious? You didn't have plans to marry. Then again, you didn't plan to have a child either. Sure, you've helped a few people with their fertility issues, but it was a joke to ask for their firstborn.

"We sign a contract that would tie our souls together. We could sign a legal document as well, but the magical contract must be signed for the claim to settle."

Tim whispered in your ear soft enough for only you to hear,

"Mom, will you marry Bruce? I want to be his son."

You straightened in your chair. You were startled by the request and asked back equally quietly,

"Are you sure? This is your soul, Tim, not just some flimsy legal document."

Tim nodded. He already figured he'd be part of the family, but he wanted to make it more permanent.

"I'm sure, mom."

You sighed softly in your spot. You were so weak for your Tim. You'd give anything to make him happy. You frowned before conceding,

"If you can convince him."

Tim kissed your forehead gratefully and began negotiating with Bruce and feeling out the situation. Dick took your hand in his and said to you light-heartedly,

"I'm gaining a mom after all."

And that is how the Batfamily gained Batmom. What a mess.

[faebled-stories]

Max Level: Pleasure Unlocked

Le Sserafim's Miyawaki Sakura x Male reader

AN: So... I may have been a tiny bit late to class today 😅. Why, you ask? Well... I was up all night re-watching Marry My Husband (totally worth it, btw). Anyway, fast forward to class, and I casually checked my phone, and—wait for it—WHAT?! Almost 300 likes for Ms. Kim Chaewon?! You guys are seriously amazing! 💖 This story was supposed to drop tomorrow, but because I love you all so much... here’s a little treat! 😘✨

P.S. Why is this lecture soooo long? Send help! 😂

Miyawaki Sakura, the eldest member of Le Sserafim, had found a new thrill—one that didn’t involve the stage lights or concert crowds. Live streaming had pulled her into its vibrant, fast-paced world of colorful pixels and instant connection. It wasn’t just a hobby anymore; it became her escape—a digital realm where she could unwind and be herself. Streaming offered her a space where she could share her love for video games in the most authentic way possible. Her laughter would echo through the headset, filling the room with the joy she found in navigating complex game worlds and strategizing with her audience. It was a welcome reprieve from the pressures of K-pop stardom, a place where she could exist without expectation.

But as Sakura’s love for streaming grew, so did the distance between her and Y/N. Y/N cherished their quiet evenings together—the ones filled with soft conversations, playful glances, and the warmth of shared intimacy. Now, those moments seemed to slip away, replaced by the blue glow of Sakura's monitor and the sounds of gaming filling the room. He found himself feeling increasingly sidelined, the comforting presence of his girlfriend diluted by the endless stream of fan interactions and in-game distractions. Every evening, as he sat in their apartment watching her stream, Y/N felt like a shadow in her life, forgotten behind the glow of her screen.

The silence after Sakura's gaming sessions hung in the air, heavy and unfamiliar, a stark contrast to the laughter that used to fill their nights. He would lie in bed, staring at the empty space beside him, wondering when their quiet, intimate nights had been swapped for late-night streams. The late-night absence became more palpable, the connection they once shared now buried beneath layers of bright pixels and fan interactions.

Frustrated and unsure of how to bridge the growing gap between them, Y/N turned to the one person who knew both of them best—Kwon Eunbi, Sakura's former leader and the matchmaker who had brought them together in the first place. Eunbi, always the voice of reason and support, listened with a thoughtful expression as Y/N poured out his concerns.

"I just don't know how to get her attention anymore," Y/N confessed, his voice tinged with frustration. "She used to light up when we were together, but now it feels like I'm competing with a screen."

Eunbi, ever the sage, leaned in with a twinkle in her eye, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "Well, my dear, sometimes you just need to remind her of what she's missing," she said, her tone playful yet reassuring. "There's this little shop downtown. They have... items that might help reignite that spark you're worried about. A little mystery, a little surprise—that's the key."

Y/N blushed at the suggestion, but the idea intrigued him. Maybe Eunbi was right—maybe a little spontaneity was exactly what their relationship needed. "Okay noona," Y/N said with newfound determination. "Take me there. I'll do whatever it takes."

Eunbi grinned. "That's the spirit. Trust me, after this, she'll be more than eager to spend some time away from that screen, and if it doesn't work out... you have my number" the older girl winked before giving a slightly playful slap to Y/N’s behind

As soon as Eunbi led him into the little adult shop tucked away in a quiet side street downtown, Y/N’s nerves melted into curiosity. The shop was intimate, lined with rows of items that promised to stoke passion and bring lovers closer. Eunbi was more than willing to offer her guidance, clearly enjoying herself as she pointed out various products.

"Trust me," Eunbi had said with a wink, picking up a small bullet vibrator from one of the shelves. "This one is discreet but packs a punch, It's perfect for getting things started. She won’t see it coming." Y/N’s cheeks had flushed at the thought, but the image of Sakura’s surprised reaction made her smile. It was perfect for catching his girlfriend off guard.

As they continued browsing, Y/N’s eyes landed on a sleek, curved G-spot vibrating dildo that promised deeper, more intense sensations. He couldn’t help but imagine how Sakura might respond to its use—what that extra thrill might do to rekindle the heat between them. Eunbi happily skips over to Y/N with a box that he hasn't seen before, a rabbit ear vibrator "Y/N you have to get this, I’m telling you Sakura will melt and turn to putty in your hands, I have one myself and it's pretty amazing." Y/N looked at his noona with a skeptical look. Why is she so into this, is his precious noona actually not as innocent as she portrayed to the public?

Thinking about her words he can't deny that the idea of being the one to control Sakura’s pleasure sent a surge of excitement through him. He added it to his growing selection of items.

The final addition was a delicate set of pastel pink lingerie. His girlfriend's favorite color. lace-lined and revealing, something that he knew she would love, he remembered her saying she wanted something similar to this but was always ashamed and embarrassed to buy it

Y/N picked up the set knowing how much it would make his lover feel even sexier. He could already imagine the fabric clinging to his girlfriend's skin, the look in Sakura’s eyes when she sees it. There was no doubt that tonight, he would make sure all of Sakura’s attention was focused on him.

As the duo went to the counter the current cashier was about to take a break and out comes his replacement, someone who Y/N would not have expected to work here.

"Oh Eunbi unnie welcome back Oh! and Y/N oppa, what are you doing here?" the duck looking girl squealed. To say Y/N was shocked is an understatement. His girlfriend's former members, his friends, were all so familiar with this place.

"I was showing Y/N around the store, he needed my help" Responded the eldest. "Oppa is Sakura unnie giving you a hard time?" Yena responded, causing Y/N to shrink into himself in embarrassment. 

The girl started scanning the products one by one, her curious eyes glanced back and forth from y/n and each product he bought. "I didn't think Sakura unnie would be into this, I guess she's less of a prude than I thought" At this point Y/N just wanted to leave, he slightly hid behind his noona as she started placing her own products she wanted to buy. 

"I’ll pay for it Y/N I get a discount here, just pay me back after" Y/N nodded before Eunbi tapped her card and they both left with Yena waving to them, saying that they should visit her again.

With his purchases in hand, Y/N left the shop feeling embarrassed about the whole situation but he thought about the end goal and it made him feel more confident than ever. This was his chance to break through the monotony that had settled between them.

Later that evening, back in their shared apartment, Sakura was already in the midst of her nightly streaming routine. Her set up was in the living room, per Y/N's request after waking him up way too many times. It was bathed in the soft glow of the monitor, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across her face as she engaged with her audience. Y/N, his heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and excitement, watched from the shadows, clutching the items he had bought earlier.

He knew exactly what to do.

Grabbing a piece of paper, Y/N quickly scribbled a note and held it up just out of view of the camera, flashing it at Sakura with a grin. The note read: "Since you're so into games, let's play one right now, this will be level one, don't make anything obvious, good luck."

Sakura blinked in confusion at first, her head tilting as she tried to make sense of the message. But when she looked up at Y/N’s playful expression a delicate smile spread across his lips, a knowing look in his eyes. Sakura then glanced down at her stream, her posture adjusting as if nothing had changed, she quickly muted her mic. “ Not now Y/N, I'm busy.” before turning it back on and saying her mic was glitching. But Y/N had spent too long planning this out, spent too much money to turn back now. 

Satisfied with the confusion, Y/N smiled back. The game was on.

Without another word, Y/N crouched and began crawling under the desk. Since her desk was longer than any normal person would normally have, It made the access to the prize easy for him as he just needed to go from the side, his movements smooth and deliberate, hidden from the camera’s view. Sakura’s attention was still on the screen, her voice cheerful as she interacted with her viewers, but Y/N knew it wouldn’t be long before his girlfriend’s focus would shift entirely. Beneath the desk, Y/N felt a rush of excitement as he prepared to introduce a new level of spontaneity into Sakura’s night.

The note had been the first step—a secret shared between them, a playful challenge that only the two of them would understand. What happened next was up to Y/N, and he was ready to make it unforgettable.

Y/N smirked as he slowly slid the small bullet vibrator out of its box, he wiped it with a wet wipe before lifting up the pink short skirt in front of him, He brought the toy up and pressed it against Sakura's panty-covered mound, watching with delight as the Japanese girl jolted slightly in her seat. Sakura tried her best to maintain focus on the video game, determinedly gripping her mouse and keyboard as she attempted to hide her reactions to the subtle vibrations. But Y/N could see right through her act - the way Sakura's thighs clenched together, the slight flush creeping across her cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as her breathing quickened.

To save face Sakura quickly slapped Y/N’s hand away from her wet pussy but Y/n quickly placed it back to its home.

The little vibrator buzzed away, its vibrations transmitted through the thin fabric barrier. Y/N could feel the heat radiating off of Sakura's core, could sense her wetness growing with each passing second. Sakura squirmed almost imperceptibly, fighting the urge to spread her legs further.

Sakura's game character died with a pitiful electronic squeal, breaking the spell. She blinked hard a few times, trying to regain her composure as she struggled to stay focused on the screen. Y/N chuckled quietly, pulling the vibrator away.

Rising up from his spot on the floor under the desk, Y/N made sure that he was holding eye contact with Sakura the whole way. Sakura's eyes widened as Y/N made a show of slowly swiping his fingers on the toy before rubbing them together and slowly pulling them apart a slick line of the idols juices were connecting Y/Ns fingers showing her that even though she's against it, her body doesn't lie. Y/N’s fingers were brought to his lips, eye contact still not breaking and in an exaggerated motion he licked her fingers clean. Sakura quickly glanced away, her face burning crimson now, but she couldn't keep her eyes from peeking back at Y/N. A shaky exhale escaped her lips.

Y/N just winked before reaching for a piece of paper that read Level 2 commencing before crawling back to her side of the desk, leaving Sakura even more flustered and distracted, though trying her best to play it cool. Y/N made a mental note - Sakura was even more responsive than expected. This was going to be fun indeed...

The next level involved the G-spot vibrating dildo, escalating the intensity. There was only one small thing blocking his way, deciding to deal with it he wrapped his fingers around her panties before giving it a quick and powerful tug completely ripping them. The sound loud enough to catch Sakura off guard. Shocked, the idol’s hand instinctively reached down, her fingertips brushing her now bare, wet pussy. She inhaled sharply, her body reacting to the sudden exposure, but she didn’t dare glance away from the screen.

Y/N teased her relentlessly, his fingers circling her entrance before finally pushing the toy into her slick cunt. He moved it slowly at first, letting her adjust to the sensation, feeling her muscles tighten around the intrusion. Sakura’s hand gripped her mouse tighter, her knuckles whitening as she fought to keep her composure. She nearly missed a key on her keyboard, her body betraying her as Y/N expertly played with her, pulling the toy out just as she neared the edge of release.

Her breath came in shallow, uneven pants. The subtle strain in her voice didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N, who watched with a smirk, knowing just how close she was to losing control. Yet, he denied her the satisfaction of climax, bringing her to the edge again and again only to retreat, leaving her desperate and aching.

“Fuck,” Sakura muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible as she tried to focus on her stream. Her viewers, blissfully unaware of the torment unfolding beneath her desk, cheered her on in the game, oblivious to the real game being played just out of sight.

Y/N pulled the toy away once more, but this time, Sakura couldn't hold back her frustration. "Ahh, what the fuck" she whispered harshly, trying to control her reaction. She couldn’t look down to see what he was doing, not without giving herself away on camera. She tried to push through the absence, hoping Y/N would relent, but the moment stretched on.

And then, without warning, Y/N switched the vibrations onto its highest setting and plunged it back into her, the thick dildo buried deep inside her clenching cunt, the toy felt around and lived up to its name, pressing on that spot she loved.

"AHHHH!" Sakura’s cry pierced the quiet of the room, her pussy convulsing around the toy as an intense orgasm overtook her. She barely had time to mute her mic, her thighs trembling and squeezing together, her stomach contracting as wave after wave of electric pleasure crashed over her. Her body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alight with sensation

Her game character spun wildly on screen, her mouse jerking out of control as her body seized up. Her viewers, concerned but unsuspecting, quickly flooded the chat with messages.

"Are you okay? What happened?" one asked.

"You just screamed like you saw a ghost, lol," commented another, oblivious to the real reason behind her outburst.

Sakura’s cheeks burned with humiliation. They had heard her, but thankfully they couldn’t know the truth—how their sweet, innocent idol was secretly being driven to the brink of madness by her boyfriend under the desk. With a shaky breath, she forced a laugh. "Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I thought I saw a bug under the desk," she lied, her voice higher than usual, the embarrassment clear. "You know how I get when it comes to bugs!"

Her viewers, still clueless, accepted the explanation, laughing along with her as they playfully scolded her for getting so worked up over something so trivial. But Sakura’s mind was far from the stream now. The aftershocks of her orgasm still rippled through her, and she bit her lip hard, willing her body to calm down. The irony wasn’t lost on her—here she was, playing the role of their wholesome crush while secretly being ravaged by Y/N just out of sight.

Satisfied for the moment, Y/N leaned in and gave her sensitive pussy a slow, teasing lick, sending another shiver through her body. Her thighs trembled, clenching around his head as his tongue worked its magic. She didn’t want to admit how much she missed this—missed him—but the pleasure coursing through her veins made it impossible to deny. He left a final lingering kiss against her soaked lips before pulling away, leaving her panting and desperate for more.

As Y/N stood, he reached for the final toy in his collection, pulling the rabbit-ear vibrator from his bag. His fingers traced the packaging—Rabbit Ear Toy: Maximum Clitoral Stimulation—and a grin spread across his face. The playful sparkle in his eyes revealed his mischievous intent, recalling how Eunbi had enthusiastically recommended this particular device. With a small chuckle, he knew this would be the perfect grand finale to their secret, unspoken game.

Y/N scribbled a quick note—Level three, good luck—and slid it over to Sakura. Her gaze flicked to him, and their eyes met briefly. A silent exchange of both anticipation and trepidation passed between them. The tension hung thick in the air, a blend of excitement and nerves that only heightened the moment. Sakura’s cheeks flushed as her fingers hovered over the keyboard, pretending to remain focused on the game, but her attention was split, knowing what was coming next.

As Y/N shifted back into his familiar spot under the desk, his breath hitched in anticipation. It had become his little domain, a place where he could send Sakura into oblivion without her viewers being any the wiser. He carefully unwrapped the vibrator—an egg-shaped toy, compact but powerful. The soft, flexible rabbit ears promised an intensity that could tip her over the edge with just the right pressure. His hands, steady and deliberate, moved between her legs, teasing her for a moment. The toy slipped between her folds, refusing to cooperate at first, but Y/N’s persistence paid off. He finally nestled it perfectly in place, the rabbit ears snugly embracing her clit.

For a second, he paused. The anticipation in the room grew thick as Sakura shifted in her chair, her breaths shallow. The tension between them felt electric. Y/N knew what this small delay would do to her—he was prolonging the inevitable, letting her body crave the release that was just out of reach. Then, with a press of the button, the vibrator buzzed to life.

The effect was immediate. A surge of pleasure ripped through Sakura’s body, her muscles tensing as the toy began its relentless rhythm. She bit down hard on her lower lip, trying desperately not to give herself away. The overwhelming sensation sent waves of heat cascading from her core, and her hands trembled as they hovered over her mouse and keyboard, trying to maintain some semblance of control. Her breath came in short, shallow bursts, her body writhing ever so slightly, desperate to remain still for the camera.

Her chat lit up with messages of encouragement. Her viewers had no clue the real battle she was fighting—the one between maintaining her composure and succumbing to the pleasure that was quickly unraveling her. The boss fight on screen grew more intense, each phase of the battle requiring her utmost focus, but her concentration wavered with every flick of the vibrator against her clit. It was nearly impossible to think, let alone execute precise game mechanics, as the rabbit ears worked her over with merciless efficiency.

Sakura whispered to herself, “Y-You’ve got this, Sakura!” Her voice was strained, too high-pitched to mask her struggle, but she plastered on a wide smile for her audience. Her hands shook violently now as they moved across the keyboard, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of the game. Her pulse raced in sync with the toy, the pleasure mounting to unbearable levels.

The boss’s health bar ticked down in sync with her endurance, her every keystroke becoming sloppier, more frantic. As the final blow landed and the boss collapsed in defeat, Sakura could no longer hold back. Her body convulsed as the climax hit her like a tidal wave. A guttural shout escaped her lips as she slammed her hands down on the desk, her voice cracking with a blend of triumph and carnal release.

“YESSSS!!” she screamed, her eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving with the force of the orgasm that ripped through her. Her muscles clenched, and her toes curled as the vibrator continued its assault, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure until she was utterly spent.

Her viewers erupted into cheers, congratulating her on the hard-earned victory. Oblivious to the real reason behind her breathlessness and the flush on her face, they celebrated her skill and persistence. The screen flashed with messages of admiration, and Sakura forced herself to sit up, her body trembling with the aftershocks.

“Whew… that was intense!” she gasped, wiping away the sheen of sweat on her forehead. Her hand reached for her water glass, her fingers still trembling slightly as she took a long, much-needed drink. “Thanks for cheering me on, guys,” she added with a weak laugh, masking the exhaustion coursing through her.

As Sakura leaned back in her chair, Scrolling through other games to hopefully find a good one to end the night, Y/N, who had been patiently watching her recovery, wasn’t quite done yet. A devilish grin played on his lips as he leaned forward, his finger hovering over the vibrator’s controls. Without warning, he cranked the toy up to its highest setting.

The sudden jolt of the vibrator sent Sakura reeling. Her body stiffened, eyes widening in shock as the intensity of the stimulation threatened to unravel her all over again. Her breath hitched in her throat as her muscles tensed, gripping the arms of her chair to ground herself. Y/N’s laughter echoed softly from beneath the desk, watching her fight the new wave of pleasure with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction.

Sakura, the ever-composed streamer, found herself on the precipice of a new kind of experience. The powerful vibrations of the new toy sent shivers through her body, a primal force that ignited a wildfire of anticipation within her. Her body responded with a raw, undeniable intensity, the moisture building until it seeped through her folds, dripping off the chair and leaving a glistening trail on the floor. The sweet scent of candles that once permeated the room was quickly overtaken by the pungent aroma of her arousal, a testament to the burgeoning passion that consumed her.

As the pleasure reached its crescendo, a surge of instinct took over. With lightning-fast reflexes, Sakura muted her microphone and switched off her camera, craving the sanctuary of privacy for the intimate storm that was about to break. The online world faded away, and she surrendered completely to the throes of ecstasy.

The timing was impeccable. As Sakura neared her peak, Y/N, her boyfriend, seized the moment. He seamlessly combined the pleasure of the vibrator with the intimacy of his mouth, diving forward with a ravenous hunger. His tongue explored the depths of her, savoring her taste and fueling the fire that burned within her. Each flick and swirl of his tongue sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through her body, pushing her closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.

The combined sensations were too much for her to bear, and with an animalistic moan escaped Sakura's lips, a guttural sound intertwined with a scream that seemed to rise from the very core of her being. "UGH FUCK YEEESSSS Y/N!" Her voice was a raw expression of unrestrained pleasure. She grasped his hair, her body convulsing in a wave of ecstasy. Her legs lifted and wrapped around him pulling his face impossibly close to her core, her muscles contracting and relaxing with each tremor, the old gaming chair squeaking in protest with every movement. Her cheeks flushed a vibrant hue, a visible marker of her heightened state as she rode the wave of her orgasm with unbridled abandon, her breasts heaving with each ragged breath. Sakura climaxed with a force that left her breathless and trembling. Y/N continued his ministrations, prolonging her orgasm until she felt every ounce of pleasure.

For Y/N, the experience was both exhilarating and intensely intimate. He couldn't see anything; his vision was blocked by Sakura's body. Each subtle movement sent shivers down his spine—her soft skin felt warm and alive against him, her thighs encasing his head in a passionate vice that was as constricting as it was pleasurable. it was just the two of them, enveloped in a cocoon of heat and desire.

This was a Sakura he rarely saw, one that lay hidden behind the carefully curated persona of her online streams. In those moments, she had shed the facade of the cheerful, bubbly entertainer and revealed a side of herself that was raw and unfiltered. It was the Sakura from before her streaming career, the girl who had always been playful and spontaneous, exuding an authentic vulnerability that left him breathless. Her laughter echoed in the confines of his mind as he realized how seldom he’d had the chance to witness this intimate version of her.

The chaos of streaming and the demands of her audience faded into the background, replaced by a potent chemistry that crackled between them. His own heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drum echoing the urgency of the moment, while his breath hitched at the raw display of passion and surrender before him. Every heartbeat was a reminder of how deeply and irrevocably he craved this connection.

This moment carved a permanent mark on him, etching itself into his memory like a secret tattoo. It was a reminder of the beautiful, complex dynamics that fueled their relationship—beyond the streaming lights and scripted interactions lay a blend of affection, longing, and a hint of danger. Their souls intertwined in this rare instance, revealing as much about their hearts as it did about their desires. The very essence of their bond lay anchored in these fleeting but fervent exchanges, making each encounter a treasure and a risk he was willing to embrace.

Sakura's breath came in ragged gasps as she slowly released her hold on Y/N, her legs trembling, weak from the intense stimulation. The room seemed to amplify all her senses, the cooling sensation of sweat mingling with her skin a stark contrast to the recent heat. Her legs, barely able to support her, struggled to find their footing as she fought to regain her composure. The assistant to her pleasure, the formidable toy that had helped push her to the edge of chaotic bliss, lay on the floor, a glistening reminder of the storm that had just passed. Its surface, coated in her essence, served as a tangible testament to her unleashed passion.

Realizing that her momentary loss of control had severed her connection with her viewers, Sakura quickly attempted to regain her composure. Her cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. But before she could complete the act of resuming, Y/N’s steady hand came to rest against her thigh, gently halting her fidgeting. Kneeling between her legs, his tall frame allowing him to almost come face to face with her, their eyes meeting in a moment that felt both electric and profoundly intimate.

Sakura's mind swirled with a haze of emotions, a flicker of melancholy washing over her like a soft tide. She missed these moments—the brief interludes where they could shed their roles and embrace a deeper connection, where laughter and genuine emotion melded seamlessly into something more. Each stolen glance, every shared laugh had been a thread weaving them closer, and yet, amidst the chaos of their lives, she felt those threads fraying, slipping through her fingers like grains of sand.

In that heavy silence, Y/N reached for her, his fingers warm as they gently cupped the back of her head. There was no need for words; his eyes spoke volumes, conveying understanding and longing in a single gaze. Then, with a tenderness that sent shivers down her spine, he leaned in and sealed their lips together in a passionate kiss. The flavors of her arousal mingled with saliva—a delicious, intoxicating symphony that danced on their tongues, each movement igniting a fire deep within her core.

Sakura was momentarily consumed by the warmth of his embrace, every worry dissolving into the sweet elixir of their connection. But as the kiss lingered, her heart raced at the thought of what lay beyond this moment. Still lost in the afterglow, Sakura whimpered softly when Y/N finally pulled away, his lips brushing against hers gently as they parted. His gaze held her captive, a silent promise lingering in the space between them, but it only deepened her desire, leaving her craving more.

This was the testament to their bond—a connection that blossomed amidst the chaos of her storm, a lingering whisper of hope amid uncertainty. She knew she couldn’t let this slip through her fingers again, not when they had ventured into a territory that felt so beautifully raw and undeniably real.

But as the seasoned entertainer she was, she corrected her streaming gadget, turning her webcam back on and adjusting her microphone. Her face, still flushed from her recent exertion and her lips swollen, was now contorted into an apologetic smile as she addressed her audience, hiding the true reason behind her sudden departure by blaming it on unpredictable internet issues.

"Sorry about that, guys," she panted, her voice slightly uneven with the remnants of her peak. "We had a little technical glitch," she continued, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous hint that was not quite caught by her virtual audience.

The chat, a flurry of messages, was filled with questions and mild irritation. Her viewers were curious, their previous excitement now shifted to suspicion and a growing sense of doubt . They wondered what had caused such a sudden disruption. Yet, despite their curiosity, they respected her privacy, unwilling to push for explanations that she was not willing to give until she was ready. In their minds, the truth of her interruptions could often be their most decadent fantasies, creating an air of mystique and allure around her that kept them coming back for more. Sakura, a master of her craft, knew how to keep her audience hooked, turning even a glitch into a potential performance enhancement, as her viewers' imaginations filled in the blanks left by their sudden disconnection.

Y/N, with an air of mystery swirling about him, gracefully emerged from under the desk, his presence suddenly filling the room with an electric energy. As if appearing from the shadows, he moved with a fluidity that captivated Sakura, drawing her gaze irresistibly. From his vantage point behind the monitor, Y/N's eyes met Sakura's, a hint of mischief dancing in their depths.

His movements were deliberate, with a rhythm that matched the beating of Sakura's heart, as if he were conducting an intimate dance where only the two of them could hear the music. The fact that he planned this whole thing gave Sakura a warm feeling. The remnants of their shared passion became a declaration of love, a promise of intimacy, and a reaffirmation of their bond.

Satisfied with his thorough work, Y/N offered Sakura a look, his eyes darting back and forth from Sakura and a bag that was placed just to the side. A secretive smile playing upon his lips. It was a silent challenge, an invitation for Sakura to join him in their next adventure. Turning away, he walked calmly towards the bedroom.

As he cleaned the toys and meticulously arranged them in their new resting place, the nightstand, Y/N took the time to appreciate the small details of their shared space. The nightstand, once merely a piece of furniture with no purpose, now held a whole new meaning, a symbol of their intimate connection.

Sakura remained seated, her breath catching in her throat as Y/N disappeared into the shadows of the bedroom. The atmosphere lingered with a charged energy, the room still humming from the intensity of their shared moment. Sakura’s mind raced, replaying the image of Y/N’s mischievous smile, his teasing, deliberate movements, and the unspoken promise that hung in the air like a secret waiting to be unraveled.

For a moment, Sakura sat frozen, the temptation pulling her forward. She felt a surge of warmth radiate through her, a tug towards the bedroom where Y/N awaited, his presence as enticing as ever. The weight of their connection, unspoken but deeply understood, anchored her as she ended the stream and rose from her seat.

Sakura’s eyes fell to the bag on the floor, under the coffee table, its presence both familiar and intriguing. She had seen Y/n walk in with it  earlier but hadn’t given it much thought in the midst of her stream. Now, as the evening light dimmed into twilight and the apartment grew quieter, curiosity took over. Slowly, she bent down, her fingers brushing against the soft fabric of the bag as she picked it up. It was a simple gesture, yet it sent a ripple of anticipation through her. 

Peeling back the wrapping, her breath caught when her eyes landed on the contents. A stunning set of lingerie lay folded neatly inside, the color immediately striking her—her favorite color. The rich, silky fabric shimmered slightly in the low light, delicate lace tracing intricate patterns along its edges. She lifted it out of the bag, feeling the cool smoothness of the material slip between her fingers. The fabric felt luxurious, softer than she imagined, and as she held it up, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

Y/N had remembered.

In the whirlwind of their lives, it wasn’t often that someone paid attention to the small details, but Y/N always had a way of doing just that. Not just any lingerie, but a set that spoke to her tastes, a color that made her feel powerful, beautiful, sexy. The care and thoughtfulness behind it warmed her from the inside, the kind of warmth that settled deep, in the quiet places of the heart.

Sakura didn't waste time, a surge of excitement bubbling up inside her. Without even heading to the bathroom, she began to undress right there in the middle of the living room. Her body was sore, every muscle aching from the games “levels”, but the thrill of the moment outweighed the discomfort. She moved slowly, peeling away the layers of her clothing, and as each piece fell to the floor, she felt lighter. Her breath hitched when the cool air of the room brushed against her bare skin.

Pulling the lingerie up over her legs, she marveled at how perfectly it fit, as if it had been crafted just for her. The lace clung to her curves in all the right places, accentuating her figure in a way that made her feel both strong and undeniably feminine. She caught a glimpse of herself in the nearby mirror and paused for a moment. The reflection staring back at her was striking—she looked lovely and powerful. The fatigue that had settled into her bones seemed to dissipate, replaced by an invigorating energy, one that thrummed beneath her skin like a quiet storm ready to break.

Her gaze shifted from the mirror to the slightly ajar bedroom door, and that’s when she felt it. The pull. It was almost magnetic, an invisible force drawing her toward Y/N. There had always been something between them ever since they met, something more than words or physical attraction. It was an unspoken connection, a shared intimacy that went beyond the surface of things. Y/N had a way of turning even the smallest gestures into something profound. A simple gift of lingerie wasn’t just a gift; it was a conversation, an invitation, a reminder of the bond they shared.

Sakura’s heart raced as she stood at the threshold of the bedroom, her hand resting lightly on the doorframe. From where she stood, she could see Y/N’s silhouette bathed in the soft, golden glow of the bedside lamp. The room itself was dim, quiet, filled with the gentle hum of the night outside. Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, focused. There was a look in his gaze—one that she knew well. Mischief, affection, desire, all wrapped into one.

Her breath caught again, but this time it wasn’t the cold air or the tightness of the lingerie. It was the way Y/N looked at her. As if she were the only thing in the world that mattered in that moment. As if the night was theirs and theirs alone.

Without breaking eye contact, Sakura stepped inside the room, her bare feet soundless against the wooden floor. The door clicked shut behind her, the soft sound echoing in the quiet. It was as if the outside world ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them in the cocoon of their own making. The air between them was thick with anticipation, with the unspoken promise of what was to come.

Y/N didn’t move, didn’t say a word. His gaze traveled over her slowly, taking in the sight of her standing before him in the delicate lace and silk he had chosen. The corner of his mouth lifted in a small, appreciative smile, but there was something deeper in his eyes—a smoldering intensity that made her heart skip a beat.

She moved closer, the space between them shrinking with every step. Her own breathing had become shallow, her pulse quickening in response to the heat building between them. It wasn’t just about the physical desire; it was the emotional weight of everything they had shared, everything they had been through together, all condensed into this one, intimate moment.

Sakura reached the edge of the bed, standing just before him, her body illuminated by the soft, golden light. Y/N reached out, his hand gently grazing her thigh, his fingers brushing over the delicate lace. His touch was light, teasing, sending a shiver up her spine. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation, the feeling of his skin against hers.

He had given her so much today, endless pleasures each one more intense than the last. But now, as she stood before him, she knew the time had come, it was his turn. She smiled, slow and teasing, as her fingers toyed with the straps of the lingerie. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear, her voice a soft whisper filled with promise.

"You’ve given me so many gifts today baby. Now it’s your turn to unwrap your present." 

She gave him multiple kisses from his neck to his cheek, ending with a needy one on his lips.

“Since you're so into games, let's play one right now,” her words mimicking those that started this whole thing.

The night had just begun, filled with endless possibilities Sakura's situation mirrored her favorite games. She had failed multiple times but knew that this was a fresh start, an extra life, With a smile she positioned herself face to face with his crotch and pulled down Y/N's pants exposing his member, she gave the tip a quick kiss and lick, before reminding him that singing was not the only thing her mouth was used for.

Miyawaki Sakura was back on level one.