#this took longer to do than I thought ^^;

[multi-fandom-imagine]

I have a thought for epic. Before Telemachus went on his diplomatic mission, he was scrawny because he didn't have any warrior training. And his wife loved that about him. But hear me out. He comes back, after all the training from Athena and such and he is so much stronger and has more muscle and his wife is like "DAMN!!"

A/n: I love this 🤣 also like let me know if you want a smutty part 2 👀

You were one of the best things that happened to him, Telemachus. You saw him for who he was, not for being the son of Odysseus and now....now he was leaving you behind.

(Something he did not want to do)

Lip's quivering, you did your best to not pout as you grasped your husband's hands gently in yours as you gazed up at him. "Come back to me."

Telemachus smiled as he pressed his head against yours as he gave you a soft kiss. "Always."

It's been close to a year, a year without your sweet and gentle husband and now you've had gotten word he was finally returning home. You've always knew that Telemachus wasn’t a warrior when he’d gone.

Not yet.

Telemachus had always been gentle—long-limbed, a bit too lean, always more tongue-tied than bold, except when he spoke of justice. Or you.

You’d fallen for his soul, his smile and those beautiful eyes, not his sword arm. For the way he listened more than he spoke.

So when the guards called out—“A ship! The prince returns!”—you dropped the basket you were holding and without thinking you took off into a sprint.

You ran to the shore.

And stopped cold.

Because the man disembarking was not the same scrawny boy who left.

He was taller now, shoulders broad beneath a dark cloak, a glint of bronze beneath it where his armor clung. His arms—Gods, his arms—were no longer slender but strong, defined with muscle earned from battles and training alike. He walked like a lion now, not a hesitant deer. Confident. Controlled. Powerful.

And then he smiled...that same sweet smile.

Your Telemachus was still in there—that soft tilt of the mouth, the boyish warmth that bloomed behind storm-colored eyes.

“Wife,” he greeted lowly, voice deeper than you remembered, huskier with use.

You blinked once.

Twice.

“…Damn,” you whispered, breathless.

His brow arched in amused confusion. “What was that?”

“N-Nothing,” you stammered, cheeks flaring with heat as you suddenly remembered the many, many inappropriate thoughts now stampeding through your mind. “I just—I didn’t—gods, what did Athena feed you?”

That made him grin.

“You missed me, then?” he teased, stepping closer until his shadow fell over you, until you had to tilt your head just to keep eye contact.

You reached out, placing your hand on his chest—partly to confirm he was real, partly because by the gods, you wanted to feel those muscles beneath your palm. “You could say that.” Your mouth felt dry and you were at a loss for words now.

But when he dipped his head to kiss you, slow and warm and newly confident, you could barely remember what restraint meant.

“I have so many things to tell you,” he murmured against your lips.

“Mhm,” you breathed. “Later. Right now, we’re going inside. And you’re going to tell me with your arms and body and everything else.

He blinked.

Then he smirked.

“By the gods,” he chuckled, sweeping you up bridal-style without effort. “I’ve missed you.”

And if anyone asked why the palace doors slammed shut and didn’t open again until dawn…

Well. That was nobody’s business but yours

[fgojous]

silver springs ( satoru g. )

satoru's life was planned down to the very last detail. every clinical rotations, every exam, especially his future—laid out carefully like a surgical procedure. but then you came along—loud, sarcastic and seemed to have no remorse when your ice cold coffee was dripping down his onto white coat—and into his perfectly planned life. and now? he can't stop thinking about you. everything he had planned? yeah, that went sideways.

med student!gojo x pre-med student!reader

tags. romance, fluff, light angst (hehe), hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, slow burn, medical au, college au, age gap, banters (a lot), sexual tension, use of profanities, explicit sexual content, kissing/making out (like a lot too i think? lmao), unprotected sex (pls always use protection), little hair pulling, fingering, p in v, creampie, overstimulation (?), pillow talks | eighteen plus only!

word count. 13.4k

status. completed (one-shot)

note. i know! 13.4k is crazy but i love satoru sm can u blame me. anyway, i can't get enough of med student satoru, he drives me insane. this is kinda self-indulgent (cos yn is a pt student, and me too hihi). btw, satoru is 25 and yn is 20! <3 i think that's all i wanted to say. anyway, i love u <3

Satoru was—safe to say, pissed. 

He hasn’t slept for hours. There’s his clinical instructor breathing down his neck. He’s still got to study after this. 

Then you, wide your eyes wide, jaw slightly dropped, are just staring at him. Like you were sent by the heavens above to add to his problems today—maybe they said, it wasn’t enough, you had to come.

Fuck this day, really.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” his voice was low, irritation unmistaken. 

You blinked, frozen in place, your caramel macchiato—wasted, dripping down his white—very white coat. Does this day get any better than this? You think not.

You stared at the man in front of you. His jaw was clenched and his specs are slightly askew, and there’s obvious irritation dancing in his sharp sapphire eyes, his long white lashes fluttering. Goddamn, he’s tall.

And you are pissing him off.

“Uh—what—you bumped into me!” 

His figure was towering over you—his white messy hair caught a glimpse of the fluorescent light. 

“Because you weren’t looking. You’re on your phone.”

Well, sorry, if you were stressing about your upcoming long test—but you were here in the hospital instead of studying, accompanying your mother. Maybe she thought it’d be better to string you along in the hospital on the weekends.

“And you’re walking too fast.” you retorted, your chest was brewing. “Can’t you watch where you’re going?”

His lips twitch, almost smirking. You’re so fucking… irritating. “Wow. Was it your mission to irritate me today?”

You scoffed, my god, you hate him already and you don’t even know his name yet.

You reached for a napkin from your purse, attempting to ‘alleviate’ this situation but you know that there is nothing you could do anymore. You were about to dab on his coat when he stepped back.

“Are you seriously going to dab it in?”

“Wow. You’re so grumpy.”

“And you are irritating.” 

Yes. You get it.

“Then maybe you should get some more sleep?” 

He paused, for a moment, before he laughed. He actually laughed. 

Not that loud, but enough for you to ease a bit. He can’t believe that you still have something to say—and yet to say the one thing that he’s waiting for you to say.

“You’re unbelievable.” he muttered, he adjusted his glasses before peeling the coat off. “You owe me. Dry cleaners.”

You blinked, he’s only wearing his dark navy scrubs now, you see his badge clipped on his breast pocket. 

Gojo Satoru | Clinical Clerk

His name lingered in your mind longer than it should be. Where have you heard that name again?

But you didn’t have any time to rack your brains out when he handed his white coat to you with care, like it’s something so fragile it almost makes you scoff. But you took it anyway, because taking it to the dry cleaners was the only thing that you could do now—and you know, it’s kind of your fault too.

“Don’t put bleach on it. I’m serious.”

“I know how laundry works.” you rolled your eyes, folding his white coat carefully in your arms.

“Really? You’re not just a spoiled brat who spills coffee on someone’s coat?”

You deadpanned, not bothering to answer him because seriously, you can’t argue with him anymore. You handed him your phone and his brows furrowed, “Your number. How could I give this back to you if I can’t contact you?”

He snatched your phone from your hand, “For once you were actually thinking.”

Oh my god, give me the strength not to wipe his coat on the floor right now.

You just watched him type in his number, he called his phone from yours so he could save your number. 

“There.” he says, handing you your phone back. “I expect my coat to be sparkling clean.”

“Yeah, fine.”

He didn’t answer you anymore and just turned to walk away. But before he disappeared into the hallway, he waves over his shoulder. 

“Talk about dramatic.”

Three days have passed before he reached out to you.

You had honestly forgotten about the coat—well, you blame the myriad of long tests and practical exams for the past three days. You’d gotten immersed in studying that you forgot that you had to actually give his coat back. 

But it was already clean and hanging neatly in a garment bag, just forgotten for a bit.

And honestly? You didn’t know how to face him again without getting embarrassed. You may have been too much of a brat that day. 

[grumpy med student | 6:57 PM] where’s my coat i need it

[grumpy med student | 6:58 PM] you’ve thrown it away, didn’t you?

You rolled your eyes, typing on your phone.

[You | 6:59 PM ] i can bring it to you right now, my classes have just finished. 

[You | 7:00 PM] i had it cleaned, don’t worry. u asked for bleach, right?

[grumpy med student | 7:01 PM] stop fucking with me. meet me at the ER entrance in 20

You stared at the screen for a bit too long. How in the hell did he manage to annoy you with just a text?

But still, you were there twenty minutes later with his coat draped over your arm. You’re still wearing your white uniform, your ID badge hanging on a lanyard embroidered with the hospital’s name—you’re scrolling through your group chats to read about the practicals that were coming up.

“Huh.” you looked up at the voice, his face etched with surprise as he looked at you, “ You actually look so miserable.”

Your eyes fell on him and there he was with his navy scrubs with a stethoscope slung around his neck and the only thing missing was his white coat that was hanging from your arm. 

“Thanks. I just came from a six-hour lecture.” you say, voice laced with sarcasm then you handed him his coat. “Here. We’re even now.”

“Didn’t know we study in the same university,” he says. 

How could he even know when you’re in different buildings? And he’s already in med school?

“So, what are you?” He didn’t give you a chance to answer when he reached for your badge, “Physical Therapy, huh?”

You snatched it from his hand, “I’m leaving.”

He smirks, “Don’t trip and spill some coffee on someone else now, YN.”

“Try opening your eyes while you walk, Satoru.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and turned away. God, he was so annoying. 

Your mother’s rounds were running longer than usual.

She keeps on insisting you wait for her at the hospital so you could have lunch together. With you, living in the dorms and your long, grueling classes eating up most of your days, this was the only time you get to spend together.

And she’s late. And you’re hungry.

Now, you’re in the hospital cafeteria, eating the chips that you got from the vending machine. 

This is the only place you could think of where you could spread your books and notes. You can’t afford not to study right now. 

Your mind was full of some terms you’re not even sure you’re understanding. You were muttering words, teaching yourself like it actually helps. You didn’t even notice a group of med students passing by your table until a voice cut through the noise going on in your head.

“Hey, Miss PT.” 

You looked up at him.

He looked the same. Glasses perched on top of his nose, same navy scrubs except he was the one holding the coffee now. 

“Are you planning to get back at me?”

Satoru stared right at you, eyes flickering between you and your notes, “As much as I’d love to stain your white uniform, fortunate for you, I’m not as clumsy as you.”

“Aren’t you too busy to irritate me right now?” you retorted, looking back down at your notes to… read? 

Anything. 

Just so you could look away from him. 

Then you hear him laugh lightly—annoyingly, before turning away. You stare at his back as he walks away then you see him talk to a dark-haired med student who looked just as tired as he is before disappearing.

Then you look down, something caught at the side of your eyes.

Then you see a small chocolate bar on top of your open notes.

Huh.

You muttered a curse under your breath. How else are you going to go to your dorm when it’s pouring?

A heavy breath escaped your lips as you tuck your arm in your chest, watching the rain splatter down the pavement. The rain was cold, loud—and seemed like it would not stop any time soon.

“Let me guess, you’re trying to catch a cold to miss clinical exams?”

Your head tilted to the side quickly. That familiar voice grazing through your ears.

It has been almost a week since you saw him. He wasn’t wearing scrubs anymore. He’s just wearing his white uniform just like you are, a university hoodie for med students draped on his arm.

“Let me guess, you’re going to annoy me to death now?” you gave him a sarcastic smile, “What are you doing at our building?”

“Had to drop off something. Why? You thought I was looking for you?” a menacing grin tugging on his lips.

Does he really have to be this annoying? And unbelievably good looking?

You ignored his comment, “I don’t suppose you have an umbrella?”

“Nope.” he answered, you just sighed and looked away—you frown a bit as you saw some of the students from different programs were looking your way, you just shrugged it off, trying to wait the rain out. 

Satoru stared at you, really stared at you like you’re a mnemonic that he was memorizing—you were hugging yourself, teeth clattering slightly, your hair strands stuck in your cheeks.

“Here.” you glanced back at him, your eyebrows furrowing.

“What?”

“Take it. Don’t want you dying from hypothermia over there.” 

It’s his hoodie. 

You looked at him and back at the hoodie again. You blinked once trying to comprehend what he’s offering you right now. 

Is he really? This grumpy, annoying med student is offering you his hoodie?

“Are you going to take it or not? My arm is killing me.” he says, nudging it closer to you. 

You sighed, taking it from him with slight hesitation, if you weren’t so cold right now—but you are, so you swallowed your pride, “Thank you.”

“Huh?” he leaned closer as if he didn’t hear what you said, but you know he did because there’s a smirk pulling on his lips right now. “Didn’t hear what you said. Come again?”

You leaned closer, whispering in his ear. “I said, fuck off.”

You slipped on his hoodie, it was annoyingly soft and smelled like him. That’s actually the first thing that you noticed—and you suddenly realized, you actually know what his scent is.

You actually know what Satoru Gojo smelled like even if you’re not around him that much.

And it pisses you off just a little how nice it felt around you. 

“You know you’d have to return that to me, right?”

It’s been two days and you still have his hoodie.

You told yourself you’re going to return it. That’s why you’re here again.

In front of the emergency room entrance, in the middle of the day. 

If anyone sees you, maybe you could say that you were going to see your mother.

Or, maybe because your professor had canceled his lecture for today and you had nothing else to do.

You’ve got about two hours before your next subject and you got time to kill. Your friends had already gone to the nearest mall and you had no energy to walk around right now.

That’s why you’re here.

That’s what you’re telling yourself because you’re seeing him so often these days, it’s almost becoming a routine and it weirds you out in a way that you can’t explain.

“Hey.” 

You turned and there he was again, tall as ever, just a few steps from you.. 

“Your hoodie.” you say, lifting it. “Thanks.”

His eyes just flickered to the fabric on your arm then back to your face again. “You busy?”

“Not as busy as you.” you say with a mischievous grin.

He almost rolls his eyes, “Have you eaten yet?”

“No.” you answered, a teasing smile escaping past your lips.  “Why? You want to eat with me?”

“You like hospital food?”

And that’s how you ended up in that cafeteria again, except you’re sitting across from him now and his hoodie was still on your arm. So, you set it down on  the chair beside you—it’s just sitting there, waiting to be brought up.

You’re twisting the pasta with your fork, and stared at it like it hurt you—how could it look this… bland? 

But that’s not what concerns you the most, it’s the fact that the silence between the two of you was more comfortable than it is awkward. 

Like you had done this before—or, like this isn’t going to be a one-time thing.

Satoru was about to bite on his sandwich when he looked at you. “Do you always stare at your food like it has done you wrong?”

“Do you always sound this irritating when you’re chewing?”

“Yeah. There’s actually a class in med school for that.” he bites on his sandwich, not shying his blue eyes from you.

You stare back at him, sipping from your cup. “You think you’re so funny, huh?”

“I know I am.” his smugness didn’t escape past you. Annoying.

You huffed a breath, “Should’ve gone with my friends.”

“Uh-huh.” he agreed, nodding his head. “Then I wouldn’t have to sit here and endure this torture.”

You scrunch your nose, glaring at him and he just gives you a sheepish smile. 

Isn’t he the one who invited you here? And now he’s acting like you’re the one who interrupts his peace. 

You didn’t answer—but you glared at him enough to let him know that he’s an exhausting little prick.

When is the bickering ever going to stop?

You bite back your breath before finally bringing it up, “Aren’t you going to take your hoodie back?” 

You couldn’t take the way his hoodie just stares at you. It’s too weird—like it’s really meant for you when it’s not.

It shouldn’t.

“You keep it.”

“Why?”

Satoru looked at you, “So you’ll have to return it again.”

So here you were, in your next class, wearing his damn hoodie because the air conditioning in this lecture hall was on full blast. 

“Medicine.” you hear Maki say. 

“Huh?”

She pointed at the back of the hoodie with her lips, “You’re wearing a hoodie from the college of medicine and surgery. You’re a med student now?”

“It’s not mine.”

“Then why are you wearing it?”

Yes. 

Why?  

Why are you wearing it?

It has been two weeks since you last saw him.

Not that you were counting. 

Well, maybe, it’s because your mother hasn’t been begging you to eat lunch with her and you had no business being at the hospital.

Not that you were hoping for him to drop something off at your building again. My god, why are you even thinking about him now?

It’s because you were staring at his hoodie right now, just sprawled across the backrest of the seat of your study table. You looked away, reaching for your phone to check if he had messaged you—

No, what business does he have messaging you? You tossed your phone away and buried your face on the pillow.

This is so goddamn embarrassing.

The next day, you were about to finish your last class for the day when your mother had texted you and wanted you to come.

And, fuck, you couldn’t get out of your building fast enough. You were almost sprinting to the hospital.

Then you slowed down… why in the hell are you this excited? Isn’t he annoying to you?

So you walked—tried to walk normally, but you were clearly searching for that white hair as you walked through the hallway. 

And then you paused, your heart gradually pounds inside your chest, until the only thing that you could feel was your heart trying to claw its way out of your ribs. 

There he was, standing just outside the exam room, reading something on the charts when you sneaked behind him.

“Hey, annoying.”

Satoru pauses for a fraction of a second before looking at you, your eyes met, and he looked like he hasn’t slept for about a year. 

“Hey.” he greeted you back, his voice was flat—tired.

You blinked, letting out a faint smirk. “Wow, don’t get so excited now.”

You could almost see that grin tugging on his lips but… none. He just adjusted his glasses and scratched the back of his neck. “Just had a long day.”

You searched his face. Yeah, he looked so tired like he hasn’t slept—which, really he hasn’t. But there was something else.

“Oh, you okay?” you swallowed thickly, clutching on your bag—where his hoodie sits heavy just like that feeling creeping up on you.

“Fine.” he says, “I gotta go back.”

Satoru didn’t give you any chance to answer, he walked past you—not a single grin or snarkiness. He didn’t even give you a second glance.

So, you stood there, words still stuck on your throat, standing there a few more seconds than you should have.

[grumpy med student | 11:58 PM] u still up?

You stared at your phone. The bright light from your laptop screen illuminating the frown etched on your face. 

[You |11:59 PM] what do u think

[grumpy med student | 11:59 PM] studying?

[You | 12:00 AM] how else am i supposed to answer the long test tomorrow

[grumpy med student | 12:00 AM] what topic

[You | 12:01 AM] orthopedic conditions

You hated how much you stared at your phone, your conversation still open as if you’re really anticipating everything that he’s going to say. 

Then three minutes passed and he still hasn't answered and you thought that he had vanished again. And that was it. 

It was three days since he gave you the cold shoulder in the hospital, you were supposed to be mad at him for reasons that you don’t even know—or if you even had the right to, and now you’re just waiting for him to respond—

The shrill ringing of your phone cuts off your thoughts.

You looked at the screen and there was his contact. 

grumpy med student Calling…

Don’t answer it, you say. Why is he even calling you this late? 

Your fingers hovered over the screen, thinking it over, debating yourself if it’s a good thing that you talk to him right now.

But then you sighed, your finger clicking the answer button. 

 “Hi.”

You heard him breathe on the other side of the phone, “Sorry.”

“For what?” you were almost whispering, like you couldn’t believe that you were talking to him right now.

“Three days ago. I wasn’t in the mood.” 

You didn’t say anything right away. 

The silence filled with quiet breathing from either of you. 

Why is he saying sorry, even though it wasn’t a big deal?

It really isn’t.

Right?

“Okay.” you say softly, and then it was his turn this time to stay quiet. Then you hear him shift, maybe from his bed.

“You still have my hoodie?”

Then your heart pounds. Because you were wearing it. You’re fucking wearing it. It’s wrapped around you, clinging on your skin along with his scent that still lingers in it.

“No, I threw it out.” then you heard him laugh, a breathy laugh that made you slightly insane. “Cause you pissed me off.”

“I said I’m sorry, didn’t I?” he paused for a bit, “Are you still mad?”

You huffed, “Am I allowed to?”

You hold your breath waiting for his answer. What kind of question is that?

“You are.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. So instead, you say, “I’m hanging up. I’m studying.”

“Wait.” 

“What now?”

“I’m studying too.” he says, you can hear shuffling on the other side, “Don’t hang up.”

An irritated groan came out of your mouth, refusing to lift your head up from your desk. If you could get just a minute of sleep you’d be fine. 

But there’s someone pissing you off by nudging your arm. Repeatedly, to say. 

You haven’t had the chance to sleep, thanks to a certain someone who called you at midnight and kept you talking until your brain turned to mush.

And the nudging doesn’t stop.

You finally lifted your head, your eyes stinging from the lack of sleep. “What?!”

Then you froze, just seeing who it was.

Satoru was standing there, looking down at you with an infuriating smirk on his lips—his eyes flickering down briefly to his hoodie that you were wearing. “Now, you’re the grumpy one.”

“And who’s fault is that?” your brows furrowed as you narrowed your eyes. 

Then you suddenly realized, he’s in your building. 

In your lecture hall.

Right in front of you—in front of your entire block.

You blinked—a little stunned as he placed a coffee on your desk, with a chocolate bar just like the one he left you last time. 

Did he just come all the way here to give you a cup of coffee?

Your eyes darted around slightly, your block mates were already watching—whispering like you’ve brought someone famous. Because how often do you see a third year med student in his scrubs, dropping off some coffee for a second year pre-med student?

Exactly. Never.

Then all of it clicked into place like a perfect puzzle.

Satoru Gojo.

You’ve heard his name before. From all around the campus—from the whispers, he’s that med student your block mates were all talking about.

You just didn’t realize it was him. Took you a month. 

“Now we’re even.” he says casually, “Bye.”

Then he left you there, with your mouth slightly open—and with the knowing looks that your block mates were giving you. 

Especially the one beside you.

“Oh.” Maki smirks, “So, that’s Satoru Gojo.”

You blinked at her, mouth shut tightly. 

“Didn’t know you were dating the med school’s golden boy.”

Dating?

Is she kidding right now?

Your eyes gaze upon the coffee he left for a little too long.

“We’re not—he’s… not—”

“Uh-huh.” Maki nods, now staring at the hoodie that you are wearing. “Sure.”

The one thing that you were wishing as of now was for the ground to swallow you whole.

“You’re being weird.”

There you were, elbows propped on the table, cheeks resting on your palm as you shamelessly stare him down.

It didn’t matter that he was famous in your university and everyone was talking about him, blah blah. It bothers you that it took you this long to realize.

Well, you really don’t pride yourself on engaging in senseless gossip, much less about some handsome someone you don’t even know—well, now you know.

Because you’re eating with him side by side, at the hospital cafeteria, with the shitty food.

“You know they call you the ‘golden boy’, right?”

Then he groaned, poking on his food. “So?”

“How come I didn’t know?” you murmured, “I mean, I always hear them talk about you, I just didn’t realize it was you. I just felt stupid?”

“It’s because you are.” and he said that with a straight face, you glare at him and he smiles, “Can you just eat?”

“Okay, golden boy.” 

“Can you stop?” 

You scrunch your nose and give him a little smile before snatching a fry from his plate, “Make me.”

“Ah.” he laughs—adjusting his specs before leaning in, “You really want to go there? I don’t think you can handle it if I do.”

It was safe to say that you’re flustered, you tried to hold your ground but something in the way he stared at you made your stomach churn in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

“Shut up.” that’s all you could say before pushing his forehead away using your index finger. “Just eat your food.”

─── MONDAY ───

[grumpy med student | 5:45 PM] i’m outside your lecture hall

[You | 5:46 PM] why? u miss me?

[grumpy med student | 5:46 PM] no. i’m just not irritated enough today, maybe seeing ur face would fix that

You purse your lips, trying so hard not to let a smile slip past your lips. Your professor was still on the last slide of her lecture, wrapping things up.

While you were already shoving things in your bag rather hastily for someone who ‘doesn’t care’ whether he’s there or not—and when your professor said the class was dismissed, you said a quick goodbye to Maki before stepping out the hall.

He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed—hair messy, specs looking unfairly good on him. 

He looked up from his phone, “Took you long enough.”

You raised your brows, “Well, I’m sorry if my studies are a bother to you having your need to be extremely irritated today.”

“Apology accepted.” he says, pushing off the wall to step beside you. “Library?”

You started walking, side by side—not minding the looks coming your way. “Uh-huh.”

Maybe you could see now why they called him the golden boy.

It’s not just his looks, but the way he’s so focused—head dipped down on his books like his eyes were glued on the paper. He was scribbling notes, tapping his pen lightly—his lips parted slightly.

You could see why they’re talking. 

He’s like an all-in-one package—the looks, talent, skills… the way his face looks intent but calm while he’s studying.

But for you, he’s just the grumpy med student who bumped into you and made you spill your coffee on him.

─── TUESDAY ───

[grumpy med student | 3:12 PM] i think my legs would fall of if i moved

[You | 3:12 PM] why

[grumpy med student | 3:13 PM] they made me stand for 6 hours straight. fuck it, i’m never moving from this gurney

[You | 3:14 PM] aw, poor baby. want me to carry u home? );<

[grumpy med student | 3:15 PM] yes baby

[You | 3:16 PM] fuck u

─── WEDNESDAY ───

[grumpy med student | 6:17 PM] bring highlighters, forgot mine. not YELLOW

[You | 6:17 PM] what’s your beef with yellow

[grumpy med student | 6:17 PM] hurts my eyes

[You | 6:18 PM] you know what hurts your eyes? lack of sleep

He looked up at you when you laid out a bunch of highlighters in front of him, “Don’t worry. Not one of ‘em is yellow.”

“Did you go around and ask a bunch of people for highlighters?” his eyes followed you as you sat in front of him. 

You just shrugged your shoulders, opening your own notes—hiding a grin behind the paper.

─── THURSDAY ───

[grumpy med student | 6:45 PM] where are u? some freshmen stole our table. the fuck

[You | 6:46 PM] our prof is still wrapping up

[grumpy med student | 6:47 PM] get here fast

You roll your eyes as you read his text. Your professor ended the class and you stood up almost immediately. 

“Going on a date again?” 

You glanced at your friend, brows furrowing. “It’s not a date.”

Maki doesn’t know why you’re still fooling her, maybe because you don’t know yourself what this is. 

“Oh. Okay. Say hi to Gojo for me.” she says, laughing before stepping out the door. And you just huffed out a breath before picking up your bag.

You walk slowly—just to spite Satoru, and to think about what really is this. 

Well, you’re just studying together. There’s nothing wrong with that, right?

─── FRIDAY───

[grumpy med student | 4:45 PM] i forgot to tell u earlier, someone just came up to me and asked if MI stands for mild infection

[You | 4:46 PM] my god

[grumpy med student | 4:46 PM] haha right.

[grumpy med student | 4:46 PM] what time’s your out? lecture just finished

[You | 4:47 PM] i'm here at the 2nd floor lounge w my friends. why?

He didn’t respond after that, you didn’t think much about it. Maybe he got pulled into a case, or he thought it’d be better to annoy his friends other than you.

Not until Maki nudges you with her shoulder, looking at the figure walking up to your table. 

And there he was, Satoru Gojo, gracing your building with his presence—still in his lecture uniform, his hands were in his pocket like he’s a walking drama that’s about to happen.

“I don’t think you belong here.” you say as soon as he sat beside you, in front of your friends who’s just looking at him with their jaw slightly dropped.

“Yeah? I was told I could find the most irritating person here. And, yeah. Here she is.” 

Your eyes were flickering in between your notes and him. 

Because for the past ten minutes, he’s been blinking slowly—nodding off just a little before snapping his eyes back open.

You try not to stare at him but it’s really hard not to.

Satoru  shifts in his seat, his cheek dips down on his folded arms—and then, poof, out cold.

Seriously?

You pressed your cheek against your palm and let yourself stare at him. His white hair was messier than usual, his specs almost out of place—his lips are parted slightly, small huffs of breath shuffling out. 

He looks so exhausted. 

This is so stupid, my god.

Your eyes darted around the library to see if someone else is looking—but they’re caught up in their own world, so you extended your arm, reaching out for his glasses before removing them slowly and placing them neatly on the table.

You should’ve stopped there.

But your fingers lightly grazed his hair strands, brushing it gently out of his face. 

It doesn’t make sense why—you’re here tucking his hair like you’re meant to do it. You don’t know why you keep meeting up with him when he’s just supposed to be a stranger you accidentally spilled your coffee to. 

It’s like suddenly you’re looped in each other’s orbits and you can’t go on a single day without even talking to each other. 

This is so stupid.

You sighed, leaning back on your chair and focused on your notes again. 

Twenty minutes later, maybe more, he stirred.

You look up just in time to see him squinting his eyes against the light, he looked at you still a bit disoriented.

“You didn’t leave?” he mumbled—voice hoarse from sleep, now sitting up and stretching his arm.

“No.” you replied, “I’m afraid the librarian might kick you out.”

He lets out a soft laugh before rubbing the back of his neck. His eye catches yours—neither of you says anything for a moment. 

You coughed a bit, handing him his glasses. “Here. I thought you might need it.”

[grumpy med student | 6:30 PM] cafe’s too loud

[grumpy med student | 6:30 PM] someone got our table in the library again

[You | 6:31 PM] find another place, we’re almost finished here

[grumpy med student | 6:32 PM] it's all packed

[You | 6:33 PM] are u sure

[grumpy med student | 6:34 PM] ?

[grumpy med student | 6:34 PM] yes im sure, u wanna go check it yourself?

[You | 6:35 PM] ugh so maybe next time?

[grumpy med student | 6:35 PM] how about my place? it’s quiet

You were having a staring contest with your phone again.

His place and quiet didn’t quite add up to you. Your brain was reeling its wheels trying to conjure every possible way going to his place for the first time ever might entail.

It’s not like this is the first time you’re going to be alone together. It’s just that—this feels different, too different.

[grumpy med student | 6:37 PM] unless you don’t want to, it’s fine we can study tomorrow

[You | 6:37 PM] no it’s okay

[grumpy med student | 6:37 PM] okay, i’m outside your lecture hall

And that’s how you ended up in his place, at the living room floor with your notes and books splayed on the coffee table and on the floor—just anywhere near. 

His place was surprisingly clean. Not too clean, but enough to surprise you considering he’s too busy. There were a lot of medical textbooks near the coffee table, some takeout containers but that was it. 

And there’s definitely his scent that lingers around the air. 

It was silent between you two—it’s always like that, not awkward silence but comfortable. You were both flipping through books, handouts and whatnot. 

You were scribbling left and right and sometimes mumbling mnemonics like you’ve lost your mind.

Sometimes he’d ask you some questions about anatomy because he needs to recall something—or when you’re spacing out, he’d nudge your knee with his and you’d flick your pen or a yellow highlighter to his direction.

Yeah, well, it was a mix of peaceful yet chaotic. 

Satoru looked up from his book, arching his brow when you sprawled on the carpet, your handouts placed above your face.

“If I read the word vertigo one more time, I swear I’ll jump off the balcony,” you say, your voice a little muffled due to the papers that were covering your face.

“Neuro?”

“Uh-huh.” you replied, groaning. 

“Okay, I get why you’re being so dramatic now. Take a break?”

You pulled the papers out of your face as you sat up, “Yes. Please.”

You lean the side of your  body against the couch, elbows resting on the cushion as you look at him. “So, were you like this when you were in college?”

“Like what?” He removes his glasses, massaging the bridge of his nose.

“Uh—annoying?”

“Yeah, it’s innate.” and you both snorted, “It’s a gift, don’t you know?”

You waved your hand off, “But seriously, what were you like?”

He turned, mimicking your position. “Just like this but minus the parties. Kinda reckless. Uh, handsome?”

Then you threw your handouts at him. 

“And you, after college are you going straight to med school?”

You hummed, because that was always the plan. It never changed. 

“Yeah. That’s always the plan.” you answered, “So, you partied in college, huh? I could see it.”

He raised his brow, a smirk appearing on his lips. “Oh, yeah?”

“Uh-huh.” you narrow your eyes, looking at him carefully like you are analyzing him. “You’re wearing a backwards cap and oversized long sleeves with the first few buttons unbuttoned, probably holding a red cup—then there’s girls hovering over you, while you give your number left and right, did I nail it?”

Satoru blinked for a bit, then he suddenly laughed. “That’s oddly specific. What are you, a witch?”

You snorted a laugh, pointing at the small picture frame on his TV console. It’s a picture of him with his friends at a party—and he was wearing exactly what you had said. 

Satoru blinked, looking at the photo then back at you. 

Then he suddenly flicks your forehead—not too strong, but enough for you to glare at him.  “You saw it earlier, didn’t you?”

“Ouch?!” you winced, a menacing smile slowly creeping up to your lips. “Even if I didn’t, I know you were like that.”

“Okay, miss psychic. But you were wrong about one thing.” he stretched his arms, and you could almost see the electrical field of smugness around him.

“And what is that?”

“I never gave my number to anyone.”

You raised a brow, “And why?”

“Because they wouldn’t stop texting.”

“But you gave your number to me.” 

He stops for a bit.

“Yeah, because you have my coat. I was afraid you’ll throw it out of spite,” he smirks.

“You’re so annoying.” you roll your eyes, your lips trying to twitch into a smile. “So you never dated anyone serious?”

He hummed, like he’s trying to think of every girl that he dated and you almost threw a pillow in his direction. “Just the one. But we broke up after a year.”

You were about to speak when he did it first. “How about you? You ever had a boyfriend?”

You shrugged, “I had a boyfriend. First year. For just a few months. But it’s fine, we’re just friends now.”

You swore you saw his grin falter a bit—his jaw clenched slightly before speaking, “Ah. Dark-hair, looks like he hasn’t slept in quite a while, that guy?”

You blinked, “How did you know?”

“That day in the lounge,” he paused, “He was  staring at you and he looked pissed when I sat beside you.”

Your brows furrow a bit then you laugh, “He always looks like that.”

“Right.” he paused, he was smirking but his eyes told a different story. “Totally normal.” 

Both of you just stared at each other until you looked away and he cleared his throat like there’s something stuck in there that he couldn’t quite say. 

“Okay. Break’s over.” he says, and just like that he’s got his specs on and a book on his lap again.

“Yeah.” you mumbled, and reached for your handout then you turned away.

The silence envelops the two of you again. All you could hear was his AC unit humming, his shallow breaths and the papers rustling. You were tapping your fingers on the carpet over and over again while you tried to read what was on the paper.

But all the letters all seemed mushed as you try to comprehend the look he gave you earlier. 

What the fuck. 

It was ten minutes until you spoke again.

“Satoru.”

“Yeah?” he answers, gaze not leaving the book.

“Let me try the Dix-Hallpike maneuver on you.”

Then he looked up—you were holding the book up to show him the illustration, his eyebrow creased. “You really think you could pull me down without dislocating my neck?”

You thought about it. He’s taller than you, probably a bit heavy. But, hey, there’s no harm in trying, right?

You squint your eyes, “Come on. I just want to practice. It’s for the sake of medicine and my future patients.”

He groaned, removing his glasses, then he stood up to sit on the couch. Thank god his couch is L-shaped, you have plenty of space for him because he is freakishly tall. 

You had him on the couch in a long sitting position, then you stood in front of him. Your hands shake a bit when you hold his face on each side, tilting it gently.

Your heart was pounding, how can it not when this  six-foot tall med student was staring at your face like you’ve got all the answers in the world—

“You’re shaking.” his voice was low.

“I am not.”

“You are.”

“It’s because you’re annoying, put your weight on me.” you say a little bit pissed, and he just laughs. “I’m going to lean you back now.”

And you tried, like, really tried but his muscle mass and gravity weren’t on your side. He leaned a little bit too enthused, his shoulders were also hanging because you hadn’t calculated the size of this couch.

This maneuver isn’t meant for this couch, really.

He burst out laughing and you did too, “You broke your patient.”

You were still laughing, hands clutching your stomach, he sat up. “Let me try it on you.”

“You don’t even know how.” you say, still giggling.

“I saw you did it, didn’t I? And lucky for you, I’m a fast learner.” he reached out to your book and read the section for a bit.

You just watched as he read for a while, a smile creeping up on your lips.  “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Don’t break my neck.” you say as a warning.

“Yeah, yeah.” he says, tapping the couch for you to sit on. Then it was your turn.

Your breath hitched when he placed his hand, his palm on your jaw—his thumbs placed on your cheeks, and his fingers were supporting your neck. 

Then he leaned you back, your head hanging from the couch—you didn't realize that he was too close until you felt his breath on your cheeks. 

“So, tell me,” he says, his voice almost a whisper. “What signs to look out for when your patient is positive for this maneuver?”

“Uh—” you paused, your voice was close to cracking. “Nystagmus.”

“Good.” he mumbles, his breath getting heavy. “For how long?”

Then you tilt your head to look at him, he was still holding you. His thumb was brushing your cheeks.

“For… uh—seconds to minutes…”

My god, this felt like hours.

You could feel the air shift and all the nerves in your body had awakened.

Your gaze locked into each other and it just clicked.

Then he pressed his lips onto yours, not a sliver of hesitation like he was sure he wanted to do this.

The kiss felt inevitable. 

Your eyes widened before you closed them, tugging on his shirt to pull him close—his hand moved to the back of your neck before pulling you up without breaking the kiss. 

You could feel your body warm up despite the air conditioning being on low temperature—the nerve endings on your skin were working full-time as his fingers grip the back of your neck a little.

Then his back hits the cushion with a soft thud.

His hands settled on your hips—your weight hovering over him as you straddle his lap—he deepened this kiss, biting your lower lip—pushing his tongue in, making you whimper in his mouth.

Your hands travelled to his hair, grasping the locks in between your fingers. His hands were circling in on you now.

He was kissing you like he was being starved—like he wanted to devour you whole.

Then the kiss turned deeper, messier and louder—teeth clashing, lips biting, tongue delving inside just to taste every inch of your mouth—none of it was neat, he was kissing you sloppy.

Satoru groaned into your mouth when you moved your hips a little. You could feel him bulging underneath your clothed sex, he gripped your hips trying to keep you steady.

Then he pulled away—his eyes lidded, lips were swollen as you looked down at him, both your breaths uneven.

He didn’t say anything—just looked at you like he was memorizing the way your lips quiver as you breathe.

“We should stop.” he finally says, his voice rough.

“Why?” you ask softly, chest heaving—your hand still tangled in his hair, your fingers combing his soft locks.

“Because if we don’t,” he swallowed thickly, gripping your hips like he’s holding to what restraint he has left. “I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back anymore.”

Your ears pulsate, your face warms up as you stare at him. 

God, you’re making him crazy.

The walk back to your dorm was silent. Not the tense silent kind of thing, where someone is about to throw a fit or cry.

It’s a ‘we-just-full-on-make-out-and-don’t-know-what-to-say’ kind of silence.

The kind that made your footsteps heavy on the sidewalk—you can’t even look at him, and you know he can’t look at you too. 

Because he hadn’t said much since he offered to walk you back to your dorm—just took your bag without even saying a word, his skin brushes against you a bit and that was all, that was the last contact that you two ever made.

You were asking when the bickering would stop, and here it is. It stopped.

You used to walk like this together all the time. To the library, to the hospital cafeteria, to the café—bickering, nudging each other, making stupid jokes and annoying the hell out of each other and now it’s just… all gone.

You have no idea what else to do now. It’s like an itch on your brain that you can’t scratch. How are you supposed to act now? How do you even walk normally? How do you even breathe normally?

You swallowed hard, your brain was starting to irritate you. It’s screaming at you over and over again. You kissed him.

Nuh-uh, not just kiss, you made out with him. On his couch. With his hands gripping your waist. His fingers tracing your spine. Your lips clashing, molded into each other like it was the most natural thing in the universe.

You pursed your lip, huffing out a small breath that you wish he didn’t notice. Your thoughts were scattered, you couldn’t even think straight. You couldn’t find any right words to say.

And yet, you caved.

Your eyes looked forward, “You’re awfully quiet.” 

“So are you.” he replies, then you look at him and he is staring at you.

And there he was calm. He always looked like that. Like this didn’t shake him.

Was he spiraling too? Is he pretending right now? You don’t know. You can’t even tell.

What now? What are you going to say? Are you going to ask him now what that kiss meant?

You looked away again. Wouldn’t it be better if he said something—maybe joke about it a little or annoy you, tease you—like he always does. But none of that was happening. 

He stayed silent. And so did you, until you reached your dorm building.

“This is you.” he finally says, handing your bag to you.

You took it, and his fingers brushed into you again.

You open your mouth to say something but none of the words come out. Your throat felt like something big was stuck in it and you couldn’t spew what you wanted to say. 

“Good night,” he said, and you just gave him a faint smile  then you nodded.

What even is this? Why can’t you say something—

“Is this going to be weird now?” 

He blinked, frozen in place but then he gave you a smile. Not that annoying, smug, teasing smile of his—it was a genuine smile, the kind that makes your heart squeeze. 

“Only if you want it to be.”

You wanted to scream because how does he do it? How does he say it so casually while you’re here, like a ticking time bomb, about to explode?

Your fingers tightened around the bag that you were holding. 

No, of course, you wouldn’t want it to be weird.

“I don’t want it to be.” you said, almost whispering.

Because that’s the truth. You didn’t want anything to change. Even if you’ve crossed that line. Even if you didn’t know what it meant for the two of you. 

You don’t want to lose whatever this is.

He nodded, then stepped forward—placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow, YN.”

You just swallowed hard. Your eyes followed his figure while he walked back to his place that was just a few blocks from yours. 

Your heart was pounding inside your chest. It’s funny you realize this now—but you know, it’s the truth.

That he’s either going to be the one… or the one you’ll never recover from.

You just didn’t know which is which.

You both said you were just taking a short break.

But now you have no idea how long you’d been like that on the couch.

Your back on the armrest, while he’s above, pressing his body against you—your legs curled up beside him and the other, slightly on him. It was getting kinda hard to breathe—from the kiss but also from the fact that whatever this is, there’s no coming back from this.

Your grip on his hair tightens when his lips trailed down to the side of your lips, to your jaw down to your neck—sucking and licking, “Satoru—don’t… don’t put—mhm!”

Then he presses his lips on yours again, and you could feel him smile—his teeth grazing on your lower lip.

“You know we should be studying, right?” he says in between, breathing heavy, then he was on you again—biting and nibbling on your lips.

“Mhm—hmm.” you hummed into his mouth, pulling him closer, like there’s any space left in between. Your lips were probably swollen—wet, from all the sloppy kisses that he was giving you but you didn’t have any care in the world.

Your notes and books were long forgotten on the floor and on the coffee table. 

Your hair was probably a mess, a few buttons on your white uniform were unbuttoned—his white shirt was wrinkled from all the tugging that you did.

His hand moved to your hair, gripping on it a bit to angle your head—you moan into his mouth, and he pushes his tongue, swirling it around then sucks your tongue in—

“Yo. You weren’t answering—oh. OH.”

You both froze, eyes now open and you’re becoming painfully aware that he’s still above you. Then you heard another voice coming in.

“Hey! We brought—my god, we’re so sorry!” Then you heard a soft thud on the floor. 

You pushed Satoru off you so fast that you almost hit your head against his. You sat up, fixing your hair and buttoning your white uniform again—while Satoru, this dumbass, was groaning—his back leaned on the couch now.

“For the record,” the tall guy with a dark-hair tied loosely into a bun—the one you saw in the cafeteria, started speaking, “We knocked.”

Satoru was about to speak when a voice cut into the conversation. “Hey, what’s up?”

“What’s happening in here?”

And another.

Now, there’s four of them. Looking back and forth at you and Satoru.

“Hi. I’m Yuki!” the tall blonde girl cracked the awkward silence, she walked towards the couch where you were sitting, then she pointed at her friends. “That’s Choso. Shoko then, the one who interrupted you first was Suguru.”

You smiled at them, still catching your breath—pulling your uniform down slightly, “I—uh… I’m YN.”

Then her eyes widened, “Oh! You’re YN?! The YN?”

Was he talking about you to his friends?

“The YN that spilled a coffee on his coat then he bitched to us about it like a fucking baby?” Shoko—the short-haired girl nudges Satoru to move so she could sit beside you.

Satoru glared at her but he moved anyway. Then slowly they were placing the food here and there, Suguru even handed you a soda.

“He was so dramatic about it,” Choso says, “We almost kicked him out of the group chat.”

You whip your head to look at Satoru, “I can’t believe you told them.”

“What was I supposed to do? I was pissed off.” he says, groaning. “And you didn’t even say sorry!”

“Uh—what? Cause you’re the one who bumped into me like you’re walking with your eyes closed! And I did say sorry!”

Did you? That memory was kind of a blur now.

Satoru laughs, “Uh. If I could remember, the only thing you said to me was I needed to get some sleep.”

And just like that the whole room burst into laughter—they were watching with amusement as you bicker back and forth with their friend, like they haven’t caught you making out with him on this very couch. 

They were very loud—but funny, and so comfortable with each other and yet, you didn’t feel left out. Not even for a bit. 

Now you’re all on the floor, your back leaning on the couch and Satoru was seated beside you.

Yuki was looping you in on the jokes. Shoko was asking you how pre-med is now and then, Choso and Suguru were asking you a bunch of questions about anatomy like you were in a trivia game. 

They like you.

And that made you feel overwhelmed—in a good way, maybe? How are you supposed to feel in this position anyway?

You didn’t even notice the embarrassment gone out of your body like it was nothing. The room was filled with jokes, banters—and god, Satoru’s laugh. His laugh was annoyingly good. It was driving you insane. 

You were still laughing when you looked at him and he looked back at you with a faint smile etched on his face. 

Then your eyes landed onto his, he was looking at you like there’s something brewing on his mind—like there was something that he wanted to say but he couldn’t. 

“You okay?” you asked him, nudging  his knee slightly.

“Yeah.” he slung an arm around your shoulder, “Good.”

You smiled and looked away because you can feel something shifted. You can feel something tiny—an ache, pressing onto your ribs that was supposed to be protecting your heart. 

You just didn’t know what it was.

Your days felt the same but at the same time it wasn’t.

You were still talking. 

He was still messaging you. 

You were still studying together—not at his place, but at the library. 

And he was quieter than usual.

He wasn’t nudging your knee, flicking your forehead or grumbling about his back-to-back rotations where they made him stand for hours again. 

He was just… there. Reading. Writing something in his notebook. Not even sparing you a single glance. 

“Are you okay?” you asked and he just hummed, you took a deep breath, “Am I annoying you?”

He stopped for a bit, still not looking. “No.”

You were expecting that his answer would be ‘yes, you’re annoying me. you always do.’  because… that’s how he’s supposed to answer you, right?

With a cocky grin and a teasing tone. That’s how. 

Maybe he was just too tired. Maybe his instructor was too much. Maybe he was just… you don’t know what reasons you could come up with anymore just to justify him acting like this.

But still you brushed it off. Holding onto some stupid reason that you don’t even know. 

But the next day came. He canceled lunch, saying he was backed up. Rounds were taking too long. 

He said he’ll see you later at the café, that he’ll text you once he gets there.  

But he didn’t. 

But you let it slide, maybe it slipped his mind. Come on, he’s a third year med student, of course, he’s busy.

And for the next two days, he was silent. He wasn’t messaging—and how you hated that every single time you stepped out the lecture hall, you were wishing he was there, leaning on the wall—waiting for you.

But he wasn’t. 

So, you’re staring at your phone for the whole lunch break. Contemplating whether to send him a text. Typing then erasing, then typing again—and the cycle just continued until you had the guts to press the send button.

[You | 12:32 PM] u still alive? haha

So, you waited. Until the lunch break finished. Until it was time for your one pm lecture.

None. 

Then you check your phone.

[grumpy med student | 4:45 PM] just busy

It took him four hours.

Four. fucking. hours. It was starting to piss you off. Why is he acting like this? Why is he avoiding you like you’re some plague?

Was it something that you did? Was it the kiss?

Your mind can’t comprehend why he’s acting this way. You were good, right? 

You were so good. Not just good. Everything felt right, everything was into pieces like a puzzle locked in together and now it shattered, and the pieces were missing.

You already felt like you belonged. 

And suddenly, it’s just… this?

[You | 4:55 PM ] okay

And that was the last thing you sent him.

Then a week passed by agonizingly slow—just like this elevator ride up to your mother’s office. 

There were days that you found yourself staring at your phone—reading the old texts, and his damn hoodie wrapped around you while you slept, just to fill a large chunk of space that he left.

You hated how much you noticed the space where he was supposed to be. You hated all of it because he wasn’t just ignoring you—he’s making you feel his absence, and no matter what you did—you can’t escape this raw, aching feeling that’s clawing its way to your chest.

Like it wanted to rip your heart and lungs out.

Maybe it was all too much for him? Maybe he regretted it now. 

Maybe.

You looked at the elevator door when it opened—

Your breath caught in your throat. Your heart stopped beating for a short while before screaming inside your chest.

There he was—Satoru, standing in front of you, his hair was messy like he ran his fingers through it a lot of times, his specs still perched on top of his nose and a stethoscope was hanging around his neck.

You could see the look on his face—like you’re a ghost that he was trying to avoid. But then he stepped in and stood up a few inches away from you.

You knew this was going to happen if you went to the hospital. You know you’re going to bump into him—the problem is, you didn’t know what to say, you didn’t know how to act anymore.

This was the kind of silence that you hated—it was heavy with the words that you couldn’t utter. Words that you don’t know how to get out.

You wanted to say something. 

Open your mouth but all you could do was look straight ahead.

Like he’s just some stranger who you share memories with.

You know he was about to say something by the way he breathed but then the elevator door opened again.

But you didn’t wait—didn't look back, didn’t spare him a glance and just walked out until you were out of his sight.

And that was the moment you realized—it was all gone. 

The bickering, the coffee, the waiting outside your lecture hall so you could walk side by side to the library—the mnemonics, the late night calls and—the kiss.

It was all lost. 

Just like that.

The cafeteria was just the same. It was a little more crowded than usual but it was just the same. 

But instead of him, you sat across from your mother, quietly eating her food while her phone was buzzing nonstop, and she kept looking at her watch while you just poked on your food like it done you wrong.

“Sorry we can’t eat outside,” she sipped on her coffee, “The surgery took longer than I expected and I still have a consult after this.”

“It’s okay.” you answered softly, absentmindedly poking. You hadn’t said much since you saw him earlier.

You hated him for doing this to you.

“You alright?” your mom asked, staring at your face and you lift your head, giving her a faint smile.

You nodded, but something caught the side of your eye and it darted past your mother’s shoulder—to the table at the corner of the cafeteria, why is the universe playing with you today?

There he was, sitting with his friends, and he looked how he was earlier—except he looked like the skies fell on him.

She followed your line of sight, furrowing her brows a bit before turning to you.

“You know Gojo?”

Your ears pulsate with just a mere utterance of his name. 

You looked away, “No.”

“I hear he’s a bit popular in the university,” she continued, giving you a look like she was looking out for your reaction, “Even here. One of the top students. Brilliant.”

You just hummed, and she just kept on talking about him—and you just wished she would stop. “He’s in his third year, right? His mom and I were residents together.”

You blinked, looking at her. “Okay. Tell me what happened.”

“It’s nothing.” you puffed out a small breath, and you avoided her gaze. “It’s really… nothing.”

She looked at you, gaze softening as she watched you push your food around. “Hm. Okay, you don’t have to tell me what happened.”

“It’s really nothing, Mom. It’s fine.”

She just chuckled, her hands cupped yours above the table. “If it was nothing then you wouldn’t be looking at him like that.”

Satoru doesn’t even know what he’s doing.

He bought food but he was barely touching it. It was hard to breathe when he knew that you were there—just a few tables from him.

He hated this. He hates himself—he always does this, when everything feels too good—too real, it terrifies him that he turns away.

Except, when he had done this before—he didn’t get hung up, he had protected himself before it got real, before everything went too deep. 

He doesn’t just let anyone in, but then you came, you invaded his space—and this barrier between him and his emotions just came crumbling down.

“Satoru,” Suguru called him, tossing a crumpled tissue his way, “You good?”

“Yeah.” he just nodded, a bit distracted. 

Yuki was ranting about her rotations when she suddenly stopped, squinting across the room, to the table where you were sitting. “Wait. Isn’t that Dr. LN?”

Shoko and the others followed her gaze, “Yeah. It is.”

“Isn’t that YN with her?” Choso says, turning away and suddenly, all of them were just staring at him—Satoru, like he had done them wrong too.

“What?” he asked, his eyebrows creased.

Yuki waved her hand first, “Wait. Before we get to Satoru’s stupid ass, why is YN eating with Dr. LN?!”

Satoru lifted his head—he couldn’t help but look in your direction, your chin was resting on your hand, you were looking at the food again like it said something that offended you.

He muttered, “Dr. LN’s her mom.”

“Whaaat?” Yuki shrieked and Shoko was taken aback too.

“You’re kidding?”

But he didn’t answer them. He wasn’t surprised at his friends’ reactions because Dr. LN is one of the top surgeons at the hospital, maybe it just shocked them that you’re her daughter.

Well, it wasn’t a surprise. You’re smart—just like her. You’re…

Fuck. Why can’t he look away? He made his decision, right? Why can’t he get you out—

“The fuck was that for?” his train of thoughts vanished when he felt Shoko smack his head. “Are you—”

“You’re a dumbass.” she hissed, and the other three hummed in agreement. “She’s the only girl that we liked. Like, ever.”

“I mean,” Suguru started, “No offense to your past trainwrecks.”

“She just clicked, you know?” Yuki said, sipping on her juice, “I mean, she didn’t even look nervous around us. She laughed with us, she never had that awkward silence, you get me? Like, you could feel her—ah, I’m rambling. Bottomline, you’re fucking stupid.”

He knew that—and that’s what terrified him, you fitted in so easily. You slid so easily in his life like you really belong there. 

The problem was never with you.

He used to be content with what you two had—the endless bickering, the studying together quietly—all of it was enough for a person like him. Enough for him who didn’t have time, who couldn’t offer anything more. 

Because what if he couldn’t give you what you wanted? What you deserved?

And it scared him when you two kissed for the first time. Because it felt like whatever you two had, could be something more.

But he wasn’t ready for more.

Not when his life was already hanging on a balance with the endless responsibilities, pressure, expectations—he couldn’t bring you into this.

He was hunched into the desk when Suguru placed a paper bag in front of him. He looked at him and frowned. “What is this?”

“Nurses said someone dropped it off. It’s yours.”

Satoru sighed then reached for the bag. 

And his heart stopped.

It was his hoodie. 

The one that he gave you so that you could have something of his, that you could return—so you could—he could see you again. 

He knew what this meant. He knew why you gave it back.

Because he wasn’t going to see you again.

He just stared at it, barely moved, afraid that if he touched it, it would explode. It didn’t smell like him anymore—it smelled like you.

“You know, it’s the first time that I saw you like this.” he looked at Suguru who was leaning on the wall, staring right at him as if watching him come to his senses.

But he didn’t speak, he just looked away as if scared that the truth would hurt him. And it did. 

It does.

“She was really good for you,” Suguru added, “I mean, granted that you ditch us for her like an asshole but still, she made you breathe just for a bit.”

Suguru didn’t say this just to be cruel. He was just telling the truth. Because that’s what he saw. 

Satoru’s fists clenched, “I didn’t mean for it to get this far.”

“It’s too late for that, you know that, right?”

“And I told you before,” Satoru muttered, “I can’t do this. I don’t have enough time, space—”

“And yet you did.” Suguru pressed, “You made time. You brought her into your space. You let her in, man. She even met all of us. And I know you, you don’t do that.”

Satoru’s breath caught into his throat. 

“And it was a mistake.” he says quietly, like he was trying to convince himself. But he’s too smart for that.

They both know it wasn’t. He never regretted it once. He’s just too terrified.

Because you weren’t supposed to matter. But then you started showing up in places where he was. Everywhere he went you were there. Everywhere he looks, he sees you.

Even in his thoughts—you were there.

You were in every goddamn thing that he touches. 

And now all of it is just… just. 

There’s no more lunch breaks where you kick his leg slightly under the table, no more yellow highlighters flying to his direction just so you could annoy him.

He would never see the crease in your brows again whenever you were muttering mnemonics like the world would end if you didn’t memorize it all.

He would never get irritated now that you’re not here to pester him about practicing something on him—and he’ll say yes anyway.

Now, there’s no more pretending that he wasn’t falling for you. Because he did, he fell hard and he crashed.

There’s no coming back from that.

He really fucked up, huh?

You were about to drift off to sleep when you heard a knock on your door. 

You groaned, clutching the paper that was on your face. You hadn’t slept properly in days and of course—of fucking course, just when you’re about to, someone decides to knock on your stupid door.

Great. Just fucking great.

You  removed every paper that was on you and set it aside.

You drag yourself up pulling the blanket over your shoulder to cover up the fact that you were only wearing your cami top and shorts—meaning, you’re not to be disturbed, god, it’s late.

You walk to the door, barely awake, cracking it open just to see who it is.

And it’s like a cold bucket of water was splashed onto your face. 

Sleep? Gone.

Your heart? Gone. It exploded.

“What are you doing here?”

He was staring at you like you stole all air from him. 

You looked around the hallway before pulling him in—shutting the door behind you. You don’t even know how he got in your dorm building—but here he is, interrupting your sleep, your life.

You turned to him, clutching the blanket around you, waiting for him to speak.

“The hoodie,” he whispered, breathing heavily, “You gave it back.”

“That’s what you came here to say? That I gave you your hoodie back?”

He parted his mouth like he wanted to say something. But he didn’t. He just stood there, staring at you like he’s afraid that you were going to slip away.

So you did, “I gave it back because it’s pointless. I gave it back because I know you weren’t going to talk to me anymore. I didn’t want to hold on to something that… that you clearly don't want.”

His heart dropped when your voice cracked.

“YN—”

“What?” your tone was sharp, like you were protecting yourself. “What do you want, Satoru? Are you going to show up again, act like I fucking matter to you and the next few days, ignore me?”

You laughed bitterly, tears cascading down the side of your eyes. You said you weren’t going to cry. 

You didn’t cry in the past two weeks that he didn’t talk to you.

But seeing him here, in front of you, it’s like a dam broke inside of you.

“It’s not that—It’s not that I didn’t want to talk to you,” he muttered, trying to step closer but his feet wouldn’t move. “I fucked up.”

“You did!” you snapped, wiping your tears hastily, “So what was it? You were busy? You forgot I existed?”

“No.” he paused, “Because you weren’t part of the plan. You weren’t supposed to happen—I don’t fucking do this, YN. I don’t stay up late with someone, I don’t just eat lunch with someone because I want to—I… fuck.”

“So you just pushed me away? Because life didn’t go the fucking way you want it to?”

He just looked at you, every word that you were saying sits heavy on his chest.

“Because, God forbid, you feel something real?” your voice shatters, “You made me think, I mattered. Then you just up… and leave. You didn’t even say goodbye.”

And that’s what hurt the most. How easily he walked away like none of it meant anything to him.

You buried your face in your palms, sobbing—the blanket that was hugging you pooling on the floor. 

“YN.” he stepped forward, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I fucked up. I’m sorry I was such a fucking jerk—”

“You are!” your voice was muffled, your shoulders shaking as you cried. Then you feel him—his arms circling around you to pull you close, the side of your head resting on his chest.

“I didn’t know what to do.” he almost choked, resting his cheek on your head. “I didn’t know how to deal with something like this. You weren’t just a distraction, you weren’t just a girl who flirted with me at a party—you were, you.”

You could feel his hand tremble by the way he held you, but you let him speak. “You were there almost every day. God, you were the first person I think about whenever I hear something funny or someone irritated the fuck out of me.”

“Then I got scared when I saw how easy it was for you to slip into my space, into the people I care about.”

You pull away from him, your hands wiping your tears. Your gaze finds each other.

“When I was watching you laugh with them… I realized that I care so much about you. And that scared me because I don’t want to lose you—I didn’t want that moment to end, and if I said the wrong thing or did something stupid then I would lose you for good? I could not let myself do that.”

“What changed?” you paused, “So, what? You’re not scared now?”

“No. God, I’m scared.” his eyes didn’t leave yours, “But I’m scared of not being with you at all—of walking away, then spending the rest of my life wondering what we could’ve been.”

You didn’t know what else to say.

Or if there is something else to say.

You were just standing there, his hands trembling on your hips—his lips flutter every time he took a breath. 

“Kiss me.” 

You say but you didn’t even let him react when you tugged on his shirt, pulling him close to press his lips against yours—your teeth grazing his lower lip to let you in.

And he did, he let you in.

“Fuck,” he muttered, breathing heavily before letting you jump into his arms, he carried you to your bed—pushing everything on the floor, the sheets under you rustles as he set you down along with the sound of the papers scattering on the floor.

And just like that, he was all over you again—on top of your body, pressing himself against you.

“I missed you,” you let it slip in between the kisses, in between the whimper into his mouth. “I miss you, Satoru.”

His fingers trail inside your shirt, skimming your waist up to your ribs until he reaches the underside of your breast. 

He groaned into your mouth before pulling away, his kisses trail down to the skin of your neck, peppering you with desperate—hungry kisses, “You have no idea how hard it was to stay away.” 

“Then don’t.” you gasp as he bites the skin just above your collarbone, “Just stay… with me.”

God, you’re driving him insane. 

Then he was back on your lips again. His kisses getting frantic—desperate, he pushed his tongue past your lips—hot and heavy, swirling his tongue inside your mouth like he needed to taste every inch of you.

Because he does. Satoru needed you, he craved you.

You moan against his mouth, his fingers tracing the strap of your camisole before pulling it down—the strap falling flawlessly from your shoulders. 

His hand gripped your shoulder—like he was making sure you were okay with his hands all over you, but you reached for his wrist almost immediately and placed it on top of  your breast yourself.

Then he froze for a bit, both your eyes opened—until a startled laugh broke out of him—and next, you. 

“I thought you were getting shy or something,” you say breathlessly, laughing softly. 

“I was being respectful,” he brushed the tip of his nose against yours and yet his hand was still on your breast. 

“Don’t you think that went out the window when you stuck your tongue down my throat?”

“Point taken.” he says before his mouth crashes on you again, licking your lips as he starts to knead your chest—he presses soft kisses against your jaw until he is down to your chest, pulling your cami top down with his teeth.

Fuck, he’s so hot.

You catch your breath as he takes your breast into his mouth, his tongue swirling on your nipple while the pad of his thumb brushes over the other. 

Your fingers find their way to his hair—gripping it desperately, like you were aching for more, more touch, more of him.

He lets go of your breast with a pop, his eyes staring at you like he was burning your skin. 

“Satoru,” you look up at him, your fingers tightened on his hair, “Fuck, please…”

“I know.” his breath stutters when he sees you part your swollen lips, “I got you, baby.”

His lips were back onto yours—greedy, breathless as his hands roam everywhere, he grips on your hips like he’s melding his hand onto your skin. His fingers trace the waistband of your shorts before pulling it down in a swift motion, throwing it on the floor. 

His fingers dug into your thighs, coaxing them apart before moving his hands up, his fingers drawing the fabric of your underwear to the side.

You whine against his lips when he slid his finger up and down your folds, his fingers slick with your juices before sliding one finger in, “Mhm—fuck.”

“You like that?” he murmured, his voice was almost reverent—but the smirk tugging on his lip betrays him, your lips part—breathless moan leaches out of your mouth when he adds a finger. 

Then he moves his fingers in then out—hooking it just enough to make you tremble and grip his wrist when he moves it fast. 

His fingers coated with your wetness creates a hungering sound, he watches as you arch into his hand—and it makes his stomach curl in an animalistic way. He couldn’t even think straight, he was just watching your every gasp and shiver like he was memorizing it.

“Sa—toru! Mhm, fuck, more—please.” you moaned, tugging him close to pull him close just so you could feel him more, it wasn’t enough that his fingers were inside you—you needed more. “I want you. Please.”

“Ah.” he half laughs, breathlessly—almost moaning, his fingers still pumping in and out of your cunt, “You’re driving me crazy.”

“I know.” you lift your head a bit to reach his lower lip, you graze your teeth into the wet skin of his mouth, “Let me—ngh—drive you even crazier.”

“Yeah?” he groans, and you nod, your fingers reaching out for the waistband of his pants, until you reach the button of his pants—your hands reach inside cupping his hard dick with your palm, moving your hands agonizingly—slowly.

“Ah—fuck—” you whimpered when he stopped pumping his fingers—you didn’t even know how he rid himself of his clothes that fast, then he was on top of you again.

Maybe he was just that desperate—and fuck,  you know you were too.

His body was hoisted slightly as he stroked his cock above you while pressing sloppy kisses on your mouth.

Then you pulled away, you watched with heavy-lidded eyes as he tilted his head back slightly—your fingers tracing the line of his abs—guttural moans came out of him like he came straight out of porn, his hand still pumping his cock.

You loop your legs on his waist, pulling him close—you both gasp as the tip of his dick almost dips in your cunt. “Impatient, are you?”

“Mhm.” you pull him more—his jaw clenches, eyes darkening at how maddeningly desperate you are. 

“Fuuuck. You’re killing me.” he slides his tip up and down, just to tease you—and it loses his mind how you're faltering with even a small touch. He’s ruined.

You ruined him.

“Please—Satoruuu—OH.” 

You both gasp when he suddenly pushes in, slowly—deliberately, like he wanted to relish in the way that you clench around him, walls hugging his dick so tight he might’ve come right there and then.

“Shit,” he groans, voice cracking while pushing in deep—until you take all of him, “You’re so—tight, ah, fuck. So good.”

You dip your fingernails into his shoulder, lips apart—your head tilted back slightly. Your eyes flutter shut as you take the abrupt stretch—the pleasure.

“Satoru—mhm, please. Need you to move, baby.” 

He groans into your neck—the pet name added to the things cutting into his restraint, he gripped your hips trying to keep you still—god, he couldn’t move. He was getting overwhelmed with the way you feel soft and tight around him. 

There was a hitch in your voice when he started moving, slowly—then deeper, faster—harder. 

The shaky, uneven—heavy breathing  fills the air. The sheets rustle just below you as the bed starts creaking but all you could focus on was how delicious his hips slaps into you—wet, sloppy thrusts fills your ear, making your body ache in ways you didn’t even know.

Your moans grew louder, air catches on your breath with every thrust that he makes. 

“Satoru—ah. Fuck!” you close your eyes from the hundreds of pleasure coursing through your body. 

He pulls back just a bit, to see your face. 

“Look at me,” he breathes, and when your eyes meet his—he loses it. He was all over you—on your mouth, on your face, neck—pressing wet kisses while he rams you into oblivion. 

And fuck, how it drove you insane when he gripped your hair and tilted your head just so he could lick your collarbone up to your jaw—then it suddenly hit you like a wave, his name left your mouth broken.

The muscles on your abdomen contract, toes curling into the sheets.

Your grip on him tightens as your thighs quivered, hips arching into him. “Sat—nggh—toru! Feels so good,”

“Fuck, you came?” he groans, his grip on your hips tightens as he fucked you into overstimulation.

You make him crazy. So crazy—he’s losing his mind—you’re going to make him lose his mind until there’s just a scintilla of sanity left on him. 

Satoru cursed under his breath—hips curving slightly as he pushed in deep. Your name leaves his lips, strained—low. His hips stutter a bit before he collapses on top of you.

You could feel his chest rise and fall against yours, your breathing in sync. 

“You’re heavy.” you muttered, and he just hums—sinking himself deeper against your body.

“I think I just went to heaven.” 

You laughed, swatting his back lightly. “You’re so dramatic, you know that?”

“Well, I’m sorry—but you ruined me.” he groans—you let out a whimper when he shifts slightly, aware that he’s still inside you. You both winced when he pulled out, but still not getting off of you.

“I ruined you?” you arch your brow, he places his head on your chest—listening to your heartbeat like it was the only thing  grounding him. 

“Hmm. Completely ruined—like my coat was.”

You groaned, your fingers absentmindedly playing with his hair. “Are you ever going to let that go?”

He lifts his head and greets you with a smug grin, “No. I’d be annoying you with that forever.”

Forever, huh?

[strangerexee]

Okay so I was thinking about Bo Chow like usual but like just imagine if you’ve been trying to find husband for years now and nothing has changed, being dumped left and right and ultimately abandoned, because you grew up with the twins and so the few eligible men, don’t want much to do with you, but Bo does and he’s been pursing your forever, always making promises to marry you, but what if you take him serious one day?

ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀʀʀʏ ʏᴏᴜ | ʙᴏ ᴄʜᴏᴡ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝚂𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚒, 1932 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝙱𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚠 (𝙴𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 | 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 | 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 | 𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚛𝚎 | 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚢 | 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗 | 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗)

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ : ᴀɴᴏɴ…ꜱᴘᴇᴀᴋ ᴜᴘ ɴᴏᴡ!

ᴡᴄ : 1.6ᴋ

You’d been trying to find a husband for years now. It was embarrassing, honestly…

And not just trying. Not flirting here and there or batting your lashes at the Sunday socials. You’d prayed. You’d fasted. You’d begged God, begged the moon, begged your own reflection for someone who’d take you seriously. For someone who’d take you home.

But all you’d gotten was abandonment.

Not once. Not twice. But over and over.

Same story every time — they’d look at you, smile at first, then freeze when they remembered. Remembered that you were the girl who ran wild with The Moore twins. Smoke and Stack. The trouble boys with blood on their boots and hearts that didn’t work right. They’d say your name like it had something dirty attached to it. Like it was too close to theirs.

You didn’t sleep with both of them.

Not at the same time, not even back-to-back.

But what folks thought…was enough.

And so every man who took you out once, never came back for seconds.

Except Bo Chow.

Bo owned the only real grocer in town.

Right off Main, past the post office, across from Grace’s white grocer shop. His store was never quiet — he ran it like clockwork. He knew how much flour was on the shelf before he turned the key in the front door. He had a head for numbers, a body made for lifting sacks of rice and crates of apples, and a voice that made you forget what time it was.

He’d been in town almost his whole life now.

Long enough to earn a grudging respect from the older men and more than a few stares from women who never bought groceries until he was behind the counter. Long enough for everyone to know that when he said he was gonna do something — he did it.

Which made it all the more confusing that for years, Bo Chow had been telling people he was gonna marry you.

“Y’all hear Bo Chow said he gon’ wife that girl?”

“The one that was always at that Moore house?”

“Lord have mercy, he must be lonely.”

It started out as gossip.

Then a punchline.

Then a…rumor with weight.

He’d say it like it was nothing. Casually, while weighing out pecans. While handing you exact change. While handing you your groceries and brushing his thumb over your wrist longer than he needed to.

“Don’t let nobody waste your time,” he’d say with those dark eyes low on you. “Told you I’d marry you, didn’t I?” He’d brush his thumb over your bottom lip.

You’d roll your eyes. Smile like it was a joke.

But it never sounded like one.

One morning, after another man — a preacher’s son — dropped you with no warning, saying his mother “had concerns,” you found yourself standing outside Bo’s store, holding nothing but a paper list and the weight of your own shame.

You’d stayed up all night crying into a pillow you didn’t own. Borrowed sheets. Borrowed hope.

But there you were.

Again.

And when Bo saw you through the storefront window, he came out front like he always did — wiping his hands on his apron, already reaching for the list in your hand.

“Let me guess. Flour. Sugar. You want the good honey or the regular one?”

You just blinked at him.

He didn’t ask why your eyes were red.

Didn’t ask why you were trembling when he brushed your arm with his hand, careful, always careful.

He just took the list and nodded.

“I’ll bag it myself. Come inside, stay cool. Got fresh peaches today.”

You walked in like a ghost.

And then sat behind the counter. And watched him work.

And for some reason, that day…you saw him clearer than you ever had.

His rolled-up sleeves, arms veined and golden from sun.

The subtle way he smiled when an old man thanked him.

The careful way he handled a child’s nickel — didn’t take more than what he had to.

The way he moved. Steady. Strong. Full of intent.

You watched Bo Chow lean down to grab a jar from the bottom shelf, and it hit you mid-breath — he wasn’t playing with you.

He meant every word.

Every promise.

Every time he said you deserve better.

Maybe he’d been waiting.

Maybe you were the one who hadn’t believed him.

Later that afternoon, you didn’t say much when he drove you home with a brown bag on your lap, filled with peaches, ribbon candy, and flour you hadn’t paid for.

When he parked in front of your steps, you didn’t get out right away.

He didn’t rush you.

Bo just rested his arm over the steering wheel, turned to look at you, and said — soft, not shy —

“You ever gon’ take me serious?” He didn’t sound like he was tired of you.

So you didn’t answer right away.

Your heart was thudding like it was afraid to get the words out. Like it was remembering all the other men who’d walked away. All the times you’d been left holding hope with both hands, just for it to slip.

But when you looked at him — really looked —

You didn’t see someone waiting for you to be perfect.

You didn’t see someone measuring your past.

You saw a man who meant to stay.

And right there, in the heat of that car, hands trembling in your lap, you said:

“I might.”

His lips twitched. His hand found yours.

“That’s good enough for me.”

He didn’t press you after that.

Didn’t grin like he’d won. Didn’t lean over and steal a kiss like a man who knew the answer before you gave it. Bo Chow just squeezed your hand — once — and let it fall back into your lap like it was sacred. Like it had done enough.

“You sure you wanna go inside?” he asked, voice low.

You looked at your porch. Looked back at him.

And suddenly, the house you’d been trying to make into a home felt hollow. Not because of its emptiness — but because it wasn’t his.

“Not really.”

Bo reached for the key in the ignition, but didn’t turn it just yet.

He looked at you again — and there was something in his eyes you hadn’t let yourself see before. Not fully. Something slow and rich and full of patience. The kind of look a man gives when he’s already made up his mind about you, and he’s just waiting for you to catch up.

His house wasn’t far. Not that far from your place. Not that far from the store. Tidy. Warm.

The kind of place that had rice in every cabinet and a garden out back that didn’t need much tending. The bed was made. The floor swept. There was a jacket hung over the back of the only armchair. The scent of wood and salt and faint cigarette smoke clung to the walls like it belonged there.

He didn’t lead you in. He just unlocked the door and stepped aside.

“Ain’t fancy,” he muttered. “But you’re always welcome.”

You stepped over the threshold like you’d been there in a dream before.

The inside of Bo Chow’s home looked exactly how you thought it might. Like him. Like someone who doesn’t waste words. Someone who buys quality, not quantity. Someone who meant every damn thing he said when he looked you in the eye and promised you something better than what you’d been given.

And that night — without a single word — you helped him take off his shirt and folded it.

You brushed your hand down his chest like you had every right to.

And when he kissed you — cradling your face ever so gently, like you were fragile and made of glass — it didn’t feel like a beginning.

It felt like you’d arrived.

It wasn’t sex. Not really.

You didn’t even get that far. Just your lips and his hands and the heat of his breath on your neck when he pulled you into his lap like something breakable and precious and his mouth brushed against the hollow behind your ear like a confession.

You didn’t ask what it meant.

Didn’t have to.

It was in the way he held the back of your head when you shifted on top of him.

In the way he looked at your mouth like a holy thing.

In the way he kissed you between the eyes before he whispered—

“I told you I’d take care of you.”

And God help you, you believed him.

You woke up to the sound of him boiling water the next morning.

He was already dressed — a clean shirt, sleeves rolled up, collar slightly askew. He had a lighter in his hand and his back to you, standing in the kitchen with a cigarette on the sill and steam curling through the sunlight. His body filled the doorway.

And in that moment, something in you settled.

Like the ache that had been in your chest for years just quieted.

Because this — he — was not something you’d stumbled into. He had been there.

He had been choosing you longer than you’d been brave enough to notice.

You padded barefoot into the kitchen, pulled your arms around his waist, and pressed your cheek against the middle of his back.

Bo didn’t startle.

He just turned the stove down and reached for your hands.

“Been waiting so long for this,” he said. “Told you I was gon’ marry you.”

You buried your face into his shoulder and whispered—

“I know.” You said. “Sorry for making you wait so long…”

The man only shook his head.

But the way he smiled?

That was the moment you figured it out.

You didn’t need to find a husband.

You just needed to stop running from the man who’d already been one all along.

Mannnnnnn I wouldn’t had that man waiting for YEARS….thats crazy work — imagine making BO CHOW WAIT…nahhhh I would’ve said yes the first time he asked.

[brainddeadd]

Thinking about being quinns best friend and the wags just having you in their lil gang but the newest wag assumes you're dating him

You were technically just Quinn’s best friend.

The WAGs had taken you in without hesitation—group chats, spa days, dinner reservations where the words “girls only” were thrown around like confetti. You’d been around longer than some of the players’ actual girlfriends, and everyone knew you and Quinn were practically inseparable.

So when the newest WAG leaned over during brunch and whispered, “How long have you and Quinn been dating?” like it was the juiciest secret, you nearly choked on your mimosa.

“We’re not,” you said quickly, trying to laugh it off.

Her confused expression said it all. “Oh. I just assumed... the way he looks at you.”

And you brushed it off. But her words stayed.

Because later that night, when you and Quinn were curled up on his couch watching some dumb reality show and laughing too hard at the drama, he looked at you—really looked at you—and said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like if we were actually together?”

You froze, heart hammering.

And then, quietly: “Yeah. I do.”

He leaned closer, eyes soft. “Good. Because I think I’m in love with you.”

You blinked, your heart skipping like it was on ice skates.

“Quinn,” you whispered, unsure if you’d actually heard him or if your brain had finally caved under years of silent pining and decided to hallucinate.

But he was still looking at you—earnest, vulnerable, and more serious than you’d ever seen him off the ice. “I mean it,” he said. “I know it’s not exactly romantic to admit I didn’t even realize until someone else pointed it out, but… I’ve been treating you like mine for a long time.”

Your breath caught. “You have.”

“I just didn’t want to mess anything up. You’re my best friend. I didn’t want to risk losing you.”

You swallowed hard, fingers twisting in the hem of your hoodie—his hoodie. “So what changed?”

He gave a soft laugh, like he couldn’t believe it took him this long. “Someone asked if we were dating, and my first thought wasn’t *‘no’.* It was *‘why aren’t we?’*” He shifted closer, knee brushing yours. “I love you. Not just like a friend. I think I’ve been in love with you for a while.”

You could’ve cried—out of shock, relief, joy. All those years of late-night FaceTimes, shared road trip playlists, the way he’d always slide his arm around your waist in crowded rooms. The way he never looked at anyone else the way he looked at you.

“I love you too, Quinn,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “I think I always have.”

He smiled—slow and real, like the sun breaking through clouds. “So… can I kiss you?”

You nodded, already leaning in. “It’s about damn time.”

[springismss]

ᱬ⛧ baby mine 2.0 ~ s. todoroki

sum: how would shoto feel about becoming a father? here's a little month-by-month on how things would feel/go.

pairing: husband! shoto todoroki x wife! reader

content: sfw - established relationship, pregnancy, just an overview. fluffy and sweet. epilogue spoilers of shoto’s hero position for anime only watchers/those not caught up on the manga/new fans.

a/n: oh hey, i'm finally back after my first week of training at my new job with a work i've been doing when i come home. this is just a little rewrite of baby mine which i posted a good few years ago, but i feel like this is a good follow-up to perfect as well (both of which will be linked below). as always, likes, comments and re-blogs are deeply appreciated.

word count: 2,114

links: bnha/mha masterlist | baby mine | perfect | masterlist

The air felt thick as you paced back and forth, chewing on your fingernail as you looked at the object on the bathroom countertop. You should be used to this feeling, but you still felt the same antagonising dread at what you would see. And much like every other time, you prayed that this one would be different.

The sound of the timer going off brought you out of your little ritual, feet bringing you to a stop in front of the object. Maybe you should leave it, pretend this wasn't happening once again and throw the stupid thing away. You knew what you were about to see, a sight all too familiar these past few years.

Taking a shaky breath, you reached forward and grabbed hold of the object, hand shaking slightly as you stalled for a moment. This was like every other time, so why were you feeling more anxious this time? Deciding it was best to get it over and done with, you quickly turned the object over, only to be met with the words you never thought would appear for you.

‘Pregnant 3+’

Holding back a sob, you gripped the counter to ground yourself. This had to be a joke, right? A faulty test. Something just to get your hopes up before it was cruelly ripped away from you again. You didn't think you had it in you to go through that again.

A sudden knocking on the door brought you to your senses as you quickly wiped your eyes, hoping to catch any stray tears that had begun to fall. "(y/n)? Are you okay? You've been there a while this time". Of course, they were worried; you could tell by how they sounded.

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you turned and walked towards the door, placing your hand on the handle and opening it with a small click. You looked up, taking in the person in front of you, the person who was just as worried as you were.

Shoto Todoroki - your husband and the current number two pro hero.

"Sorry my love, it took a little longer than I thought. I couldn’t find the towels…”. The look on his face told you that he knew exactly what you had been doing. Your ever attentive husband always knew when you were up to something, especially when it come to something like this.

It was no secret, that despite his past, both you and Shoto wanted to expand your family with a child of your own. A child that would no doubt be showered with love and given a childhood the pro never had a chance to have.

"So, tell me...". More tears slipped down your cheeks as you tried to hold back another sob, unable to find the right words to say. Shoto, used to the heartbreak as well, sighed out, crushed that yet another attempt, to him, had been unsuccessful. "It's okay, there's always next time".

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him as he ran his hand through your hair. Trying to soothe you in one of the best ways he could. He knew it wasn't much but it was the best he could do. Feeling powerful, even as your husband was a gut wrenching feeling

"Sho, I'm pregnant". He looked at your teary eyes in shock as your words slowly began to sink in, looking down at your outstretched hand that held the test. A big smile tugging at his lips as he cupped your face, kissing you softly.

♡ Month 2 ♡

The feeling of being on cloud nine never left for you both, although Shoto was slightly wary. Sure his relationship with his father was slowly getting better but due to his childhood and upbringing, he was always left second-guessing himself.

What if he fucked up? What if he didn't fall into the role of being a father? Those questions stayed at the back of his mind, regardless of how much he pushed them aside. "Shoto, I still can't believe we're going to be parents".

Looking down at your belly, you smiled and rubbed your hand over your still soft stomach. As the days passed, it felt more like a dream. Sure, you'd suffered with the morning sickness, the bouts of fatigue, but you knew it would be worth it in the end. "We can't wait to see you, little one!".

The dual-haired male looked at you and smiled. He knew you'd support him in this journey, his past couldn't define how he was as a dad. Only he could, and with you by his side, he knew you would always cheer him on.

♡ Month 3 ♡

A blank screen greeted the two of you as you both entered a room, exchanging greetings with the sonographer.

Today was the day the two of you would get to see your child for the first time. Various 'what ifs' ran through your mind as you gripped Shoto's hand. His eyes looking into yours in a silent promise everything would be okay. He knew you wouldn’t be able to handle another heartbreak.

Laying yourself down, you got comfortable and closed your eyes as you waited for a sign that everything was fine. That the life growing inside you was still there and stronger than ever. The lump in your throat growing dangerously until you heard it.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

That small sound made you open your eyes, tears lining your waterline as you saw the tiny life on the screen. A slight squeeze of your hand drew your attention to Shoto, his eyes shining as he looked at your child.

"A perfectly happy and healthy baby. Such a strong heartbeat already".

Both of you smiled at each other, the tears finally slipping down the sides of your face as you took in the image. The lump that had been there moments ago was slowly disappearing as you gazed at the screen.

♡ Month 4 ♡

A small bump had begun to appear on you, your body finally starting to show the presence of the small life you were carrying. Your hand never left your bump whenever you had the time to touch it. "I guess I look kind of pregnant now".

Looking down, you smiled and wrapped your arms around your husband, your eyes meeting his before you closed yours slightly, falling into a much-needed sleep.

Glares over you, then down to where you were starting to swell. Shoto’s eyes flashed in slight worry before returning to normal, gently placing a hand on yours, careful not to wake your sleeping form.

He wasn't going to lie, he was scared. Scared of what was to come and the type of father he'd be. No one could blame him, not even you, but you'd support him no matter what.

♡ Month 5 ♡

Facing the ultrasound screen again, the pair of you chatted amongst yourselves, having the odd argument about the gender of your child. Of course, you didn't mind what you were having, but it was nice to have a little friendly bet on who would be right.

The small image of your child appeared on the screen again as your hearts began thumping in disbelief, the high you felt gazing on the small life never leaving. Everything was perfect and normal, even seeing what looked like a small wave or two.

"Now, would you like to know the gender?". You both looked at each other, nodding with a smile. It might have seemed like a stupid question, one that others would most likely say no to, but to you and Shoto, it would mean you would get to prepare for what was to come.

"Well, I can tell you both, you're having a perfectly healthy baby-".

♡ Month 6 ♡

Clothes. Toys. Essentials.

You name it, it began to pile up as you started to finally prepare properly for the arrival of your child. Emotions had began to run high, and if it wasn't floods of tears, it was hot tempers. Your hormones weren't helping you whatsoever, as the slightest thing would set you off.

Shoto walked into the bedroom to find you curled up on the bed, a small baby grow hugged to your chest as you sobbed. In an obvious panic, he ran over and held you close to him after he sat down. "Hey, baby, what's wrong?".

That sentence, despite coming from a good place, made you cry harder, muffled sobbing sounding against his chest.

Turns out you were emotional over the fact that a small baby could fit into that piece of clothing.

♡ Month 7 ♡

Shoto's family gushed over you continually, making sure you were safe and comfortable whenever you visited them with Shoto.

Fuyumi and Rei would excitedly touch your bump, asking a variety of questions. Gossiping and sharing stories of how Shoto was as a baby, some making you laugh at your husband’s embarrassment.

Natsuo would spend time with Shoto, casually talking about life with his younger brother. Especially how he was feeling regarding the upcoming arrival and, despite not being a father himself, encouraging him to enjoy the years ahead.

Enji, on the other hand, would sit back and watch on. Taking in the buzz around him with a somewhat contented smile on his face. He still has a bit of a way to go before he could be a part of the family unit.

♡ Month 8 ♡

Things became more painful and tiring for you as your body ached. You wanted nothing more than for the heavy feeling to go and have your baby in your arms. Showering them with all the cuddles and kisses you could manage. "(y/n), it won't be long now, I promise".

You looked up a little and smiled, the overwhelming tiredness visible on your face. He hated not being able to help you, take away the pain you felt, the uneasiness, but most of all the worry. The worry that something was going to go wrong, regardless of you both making it this far.

Resting a hand on your swollen belly, you felt the strong movements as you hummed out. Taking hold of your husband's hand, you rested it on the place you had your hand moments ago, just in time to feel a kick.

"I hope so, Shoto. I just want to meet our little one".

♡ Month 9 ♡

A new cry pierced the silence of the room, ringing loud and clear as you gripped onto Shoto. The two of you smiled as tears slipped down your faces. The emotions you felt finally crashed through you at once. "You did it (y/n)! I'm so proud of you".

Shoto placed soft kisses on your dazed face as a small bundle was placed into your arms. The baby moved around slightly, settling down on the softness of its mother's skin, beginning its first feed. Eyes opening slightly before shutting, suckling away.

"White hair with red tips, gorgeous blue eyes. She's definitely a Todoroki".

You looked up as Shoto sat down beside you, giving a tired smile as you nodded your head. The past months had been a whirlwind. Despite the tiring time you’d just been through and the way your body ached, this moment made it worth every single second.

♡ The first year ♡

The tiring nights. The endless amount of changes and feeds.

Shoto couldn't deny it; it was hard. Really hard. He constantly second-guessed himself, and he didn't feel like he was good enough. Even during those doubtful times, you encouraged him as his biggest supporter, be that through words or actions, you always made sure he was okay.

Things became slightly easier, and cuddles and kisses became more frequent as your daughter grew. New milestones and wonders greeted you all. Even Shoto's family adored their niece and granddaughter. Especially Enji, who took his time, taking great care not to mess up this time around.

Then came the words.

The day she said "Dada".

Shoto sat crying. Normally, he wasn't one for showing emotion, but the moment she said that, he couldn't hold back. From the moment he found out you were finally pregnant to the first time holding his beautiful daughter, he couldn't believe he could be a dad, yet he was such a perfect dad to this little girl who couldn't help but adore the very ground he walked on.

Picking her up, he gently rocked the small girl as her eyes slowly closed, drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

"I've got you, princess. Daddy will keep you safe. I'll always be your number one hero, no matter what happens".

permanent tags; @ani-net

© springismss - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

[writingwisterias]

A comfort drabble to make me feel better after a shit day lmao, I hope you enjoy it as well 😘💕

Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Fem! reader

Taglist: @shymoob @gut1ess @074calicocat @senawashere @danigirls-missions

You didn't even have to say anything, he already knew something was up as you walked through the door. Your eyes red rimmed, a slight tremble to your lips as you placed you coat on the hanger and took off your shoes. Leon observed you from his position on the couch, he body spread along the length of it like a perfect landing pad for you.

You felt his muscles squeeze you slightly as you slumped on top of him. His lips pressing soft kisses against the top of your head. The smell of him hit you in a wave of comfort, a reminder that the problem that's got you so down means nothing against this moment. Leon felt the dears dampen his shirt, the fabric darkening as they landed. His heartbeat a steady constant for you to focus on — to numb the thoughts as he held you.

His heart ached slightly as you looked up at him, his eyes reflecting your sadness in frustration he couldn't do more to take it away. Instead he held you tighter, rubbed soft circles on your back as you watched the crappy show he had put on.

"Can you hire me to be your assistant?" You mumbled, your voice muffled as you hid in his neck. Leon chuckled, the sound vibrating between you in a low rumble. Another kiss to the temple this time with enough pressure to each the ache slightly from your throbbing head. A medicine you didn't realize you needed. "I fear I may be more annoying at work than at home" he replied, his hands now running through your hair.

He was hitting every comfort marker, every thing he did relaxing your body, freeing your mind from the tangled thorns that currently entraped it. You felt useless out there, unwanted, used but here with Leon you felt like everything. The weight of you on top of him not affecting him or burdening him

Your smile and presence meaning more to him than any customer you speak to at work. He needed you, needed your more than anything. This job was more important than the one that actually gave you money.

"Maybe just a stay at home wife then?" You asked again, glancing back at him with blood shot eyes and small sniffles. Leon smiled another chuckled vibrating through the two of you. You watched as he leant against the arm of the couch, his neck at an awkward angle to give you a soft smile. "I offered to do that before, little miss independent wanted to chase her dreams. Which I admire more"

"it feels like they are too far to reach"

He was unsure on how to respond, his own distant dream forgotten about. Rising in the ranks with a LT on his badge, being able to tease his own rookie that would follow him. An example police officer, one that was doing the right thing. Leon couldn't have that anymore, not in this life. However, he knew that his path had changed, his values no longer lying in the job he possessed but the people he surrounded himself you.

With you.

"Maybe they aren't getting further away but changing as you change. Maybe you just need a smaller dream before you get to the final" he spoke against your hair, the pressure of yet another kiss following his words. You didn't reply, instead watched as his eyes sparkled with his love, his white teeth exposed slightly and he grinned at you. "But if being my assistant would make you happy I can pull some strings"

"being with you makes me happy" you mumbled again, watching as smiled brighter. "Then maybe that's all you need"

[save-the-villainous-cat]

"You're doing better," the villain said.

"You think so?" the hero choked out. They jumped off the treadmill and took in breath after breath greedily. The villain shot them a look, scanning the hero.

Two months ago, the hero had shown up at their doorstep, bleeding, crying. It was like the villain had found a bird with a broken wing. They had spent the last weeks nursing that bird back to health. And although they tried to keep their distance, they had always favoured the hero from the very beginning - they couldn't exactly deny that.

The hero was still taking in deep breaths and eventually, their soft eyes found the villain's. The villain was tempted to look away, but they couldn't deprive themselves of beauty any longer. Especially when it was right in front of them. The hero wasn't theirs in the first place and the villain knew they would go seperate ways again, now that the hero had recovered.

So, did it even matter if the villain looked at them for a little too long?

In a few weeks, they would be on opposite sides anew, trying to stop each other. The villain took their time to admire every little detail, took in the sight of them famishedly, as if it was the last moment they would ever share.

"Are you okay?" the hero asked. Their breathing returned to normal and they stared back at the villain curiously. Sweat ran down their temples. There were still a couple of bruises that hadn't healed entirely. And the villain themselves felt like they had worked out for two entire hours alongside with them.

"Of course," the villain said. "You have improved significantly."

The hero smiled, almost as if they were shy - which was definitely not true - and tilted their head a little.

"Thanks to you."

"You're doing the running, not me," the villain said.

"Without you I would still be limping." There was nothing to reply. The villain's vocabulary was scarily empty. They had always been rather bad when it came to receiving anything close enough to gratitude that was being tossed towards them, they had always tried to look at the world objectively. No opinion, no emotions, just facts and figures.

But whenever the hero was around, the foundations of their worldview crumbled a little. It was annoyingly challenging.

The hero caught that.

For some reason, they always detected the villain's emotions accurately.

Which was in itself also annoyingly challenging.

"Either way, I still got a lot to work on." The villain said nothing, they simply watched the hero and saw the hero the people longed for, the hero the people mourned at the moment.

Most thought the hero had died. Some speculated they had survived. No one had answers.

And for better or for worse, the villain's heart tightened when they got reminded that, in fact, they were the only one who knew about the hero's whereabouts.

The hero was right here. Right here in front of them. Right in their hand. Using their towels, their dishes. Eating their food and sleeping on their pillows. The hero was here, they were right here. And yet, they knew it was foolish to think that they belonged to one another, wasn't it?

"You'll be back to work soon, right?" the villain asked. Their voice was quieter than they had wanted it to be.

"...I guess so. I was planning my grand return in a month or so. Can you imagine how the city will react?" They let out one of their little giggles and the villain's heart started to rip open gradually. "I hope no one will get mad at me. Licking my open wounds in peace should be allowed, shouldn't it?"

"Of course," the villain said. Letting go wasn't the villain's strong suit. They couldn't bear the thought of an empty apartment. Not to find the hero napping on the couch in the afternoon. To stand alone at the stove, cooking a meal for one. They couldn't imagine themselves staying up past 12 again because there was no hero to scold them.

They couldn't imagine being so far away, so out of reach that they had to wonder if the hero was even looking back at them. Those past two months meant the world to the villain. And if the hero wanted to leave in four weeks again?

Three months are an entire season.

A season of their hero.

"You're so quiet today, are you getting sick?" The hero pressed the back of their hand against the villain's forehead.

"Just tired," the villain said. "I'll lay down for a bit if that's okay with you."

"Don't sleep through dinner, though." The hero gave one of their crooked smirks.

"Wouldn't dream of it," the villain said and they meant every word of it.

[thestarsaboveme]

this was a request from a kind anon.

summary: angst with comfort, reader and lads men having a misunderstanding because reader is overthinking that they’re cheating on her with the mc since they always spend time with the mc and spending less time with the reader.

sylus x reader | angst/comfort

You were used to Sylus being quiet.

Not cold. Just…quiet.

So when his messages started getting shorter, when his gaze didn't linger as long on yours, when his kissed turned into brushes of habit more than affection, you didn't notice right away.

Until it started to hurt.

-

You saw them again.

Sylus and MC in the lab.

Her laughter reached you before their voices did. Sylus stood beside her, arms crossed, watching her monitor as she demonstrated something. He wasn't smiling. But he also wasn't pulling away like he did with most people. He was listening. Engaged.

You waited for him to notice you.

He didn't.

After ten minutes of watching from the hallway, you left.

-

Are you free tonight?

You messaged him later.

We haven't spent time together in a while.

He didn't reply for two hours.

Can't. Late testing with MC. Tomorrow?

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow. It was always tomorrow.

-

You told yourself you were being irrational. That he'd always been closer to MC, given their compatibility, their shared background, their synced missions. This his loyalty ran deeper than words, and if he was cheating, you'd know, right?

But your gut twisted every time you saw them together. Every time he mentioned her like she was another heartbeat.

And tonight, as you sat alone in your room again, you couldn't hold it in anymore.

You called him.

He answered on the second ring, voice calm. ''Hey. Everything okay?''

''No,'' you said, and your voice cracked more than you meant it to. ''Can you come over?''

A pause. ''Now?''

''I need to talk to you, Sylus. Please.''

A longer pause. Then: ''I'm on my way.''

-

When he arrived twenty minutes later, he looked tired. Dark circles under his eyes. His hair slightly disheveled from running his fingers through it too many times. He took one look at your expression and stepped in without a word.

You stood by the couch, arms folded across your chest.

He said nothing at first, just watched you. Waiting. Patient.

That made it harder.

''Are you cheating on me with MC?''

The words came out like broken glass.

Sylus blinked. No dramatic reaction. No flinch. Just stilness.

Then a slow, quiet, ''No.''

You let out a shaky breath. ''Then why does it feel like you're never here anymore? Why does it feel like you replaced me with her?''

Still calm, he asked, ''Is that what you think I've done?''

''I don't know what to think, Sylus!'' you snapped, voice rising. ''You've been with her constantly. You talk about her like she's in your head all the time.'' You make time for her, not me. And I sit here, waiting like I'm some background character you forgot about.''

He stepped forward slowly. ''You're not.''

''Then explain it to me,'' you whispered. ''Because I'm tired of guessing where I stand with you.''

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Quietly, heavily.

''There's nothing going on between me and MC,'' he said. ''But I haven't made that clear. That's on me.''

You swallowed hard. ''Then why have you been so distant?''

He hesitated, then moved to sit on the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees. Not his usual posture. He looked vulnerable. Smaller, somehow.

''I've been working with MC on some dangerous tech,'' he said slowly. ''There were…anomalies in her readings. We thought they were unstable. I needed to make sure she was okay.''

You frowned. ''So you were protecting her?''

''I was doing my job. I was trying to prevent another incident. Something like what happened to me.'' He looked up then, eyes locking onto yours. ''And I didn't want you anywhere near it.''

You hesitated. ''Why not tell me that?''

He looked away again. ''Because if you knew, you'd want to help. You'd want to be involved. And I couldn't handle the thought of something happening to you.''

Silence fell between you.

You sat beside him on the couch, not touching.

''You think keeping me in the dark is protecting me?''

''I thought I could carry it all without hurting you,'' he said. ''But I was wrong.''

You exhaled. ''You made me feel like you were slipping away. Like I was being replaced by someone who understands you better.''

His jaw tightened. ''No one understands me like you do.''

You met his eyes again. ''Then why couldn't you just say that?''

He stared at you for a long time.

And finally, he said, ''Because you're the only person who makes me feel like I'm still human. Like I'm more than what I was built to do. And that scares me more than anything.''

Your heart clenched.

''Sylus…''

''I'm not used to needing someone,'' he admitted. ''But I need you. And I didn't know how to say that without feeling like I was putting you in danger.''

''You're not,'' you whispered. ''You're just hurting both of us instead.''

He nodded, slowly. ''I know. I'm sorry.''

You reached out, brushing your fingers against his hand. He didn't move away.

''I don't want to be protected from your truth, Sylus,'' you said. '' I want to stand beside you, not behind you.''

he finally turned his hand over, letting your fingers intertwine.

''I can try,'' he said softly. ''If you'll let me fix this.''

You leaned into his shoulder, the silence between you no longer cold. But healing.

''I want to,'' you said. ''But next time…talk to me.''

''I will,'' he promised.

And somehow, in that quiet, broken space between heartache and hope, you began to believe him.

[maxinesgun]

it's the whiskey talking ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

abby anderson x fem!reader

drunk!reader, established relationship, abby has the patience of a saint (for you and only you), abby taking care of r, pet names, pure fluff. wc 1.5k ᡣ𐭩

“Abby. Abby. Abby.”

Your girlfriend wasn’t answering the door. So, really, it wasn’t your fault that you were here, knocking and calling out to her rather obnoxiously at what was likely an ungodly hour to be doing so. Frankly, you had no clue what time it was, and you didn’t really care. 

“Abbyyy,” you repeated, drawing out her name as if savouring it. Every word you spoke felt heavy and stretchy, like taffy in your mouth. “C’mon, I know you’re in there. You sleeping?” You yanked on the handle again, as if this time it would magically spring open, and stumbled a bit, catching yourself on the wall and cursing under your breath.

Okay, so you were drunk. Perhaps more than you’d initially thought.

You’d had a bonfire with a small group of friends tonight. It had been one of the rare occasions where none of you were held up with any assignments or patrols, and it allowed for a well-deserved and long-overdue break to loosen up and have a good time. With food, card games, and a bottle of whiskey Manny had snagged from God-knew-where, the night had passed by quickly. Abby had been absent in lieu of patrol duty that evening, and had urged you to go without her, assuring you that she’d be back before morning.

Sober you probably would have just gone back to your own dorm, assuming she’d gotten into bed and crashed after arriving back so late, but drunk you had decided that you needed to see her, to be wrapped in her arms, as desperately as you needed air.

You leaned your head against the door, sniffing dejectedly. “Okay, fine. I’m just going to sit right here, outside your door,” you called, a pout on your lips. “On the cold, hard floor. All by myself. Alone. And… lonely.”

“Hey, don’t stop now. I think there are some people on the ground floor who couldn’t hear you.”

The voice came from directly behind you, and it took you a few seconds longer than what was normal to register it before you spun around. You looked at Abby, standing before you with her gym bag slung over her shoulder, and felt your mouth drop open a little in surprise. “Oh.” You turned fully, leaning back against the door and allowing yourself a better view of her. The muscle tank she wore was certainly doing its job. “Hi,” you said innocently, a giggle bubbling out of you at your own foolishness.

“Hello to you, too.” Her eyes lingered over you with a curious expression you couldn’t quite name, sweeping down the length of your body before returning to your face. A faint smile was playing at her lips as she closed the distance between you. “I was just doing some training. Got back about an hour ago, but I was too amped up to go to sleep. I figured you’d already be in bed.”

She was right in front of you now, and you leaned forward to wrap your arms around her neck. “Mhm,” you hummed, not hearing a word of what she’d said. You were too busy staring at her adoringly, admiring the way her lips moved when she talked. They were the perfect shape, and so, so kissable. You reached to trace over her cupid’s bow lightly with a fingertip, which made her grin widen a bit beneath your touch. “You have pretty lips,” you told her, because it was important that she knew.

“Wow,” she said, her brows raising a bit in amusement. Her big hands came up to grip your waist firmly. “You are…”

“Beautiful? Hot? Gorgeous? Stunning?” you offered, grinning widely.

“I was going to say hammered,” she finished. “But all those other things, too.” At this, another giggle burst out of you, and those pretty lips of hers stretched into a wider grin. “You had fun, huh?”

“So much fun.” You leaned your head against her chest for a moment, closing your eyes. She smelled like the pine soap she religiously used. “Manny brought whiskey,” you added in a false-whisper.

You felt her huff a laugh, and imagined her rolling her eyes. “Oh, so I have him to thank for this, do I?” When you didn’t move after a solid few seconds and remained like that, head pressed to her chest contentedly, she patted the small of your back encouragingly, like one would a stubborn child. “‘Kay, let’s get you to bed, hm?”

You let out an exaggerated groan, your grip on her tightening possessively. “But I came here to see you.” You craned your head back a little to look at her, giving her a little pout. “You don’t wanna see me?”

“I always want to see you,” Abby said in a placating tone. She leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead before subtly maneuvering you over to the door and fumbling with the lock, one-handed. “You can crash here for the night. That way you can wake me up if you start puking your guts out or something.”

When she got the door open you finally relinquished your hold on her, bracing a hand against the frame a little unsteadily. “Can you walk?” she asked, her hand remaining lightly on the small of your back until you assured her you could.

The room was dark, and in your already-inhibited state, your sense of balance was more than a little off-kilter. You half-leaned against the wall, kicking lazily at the shoe rack in a poor attempt to get your boots off as Abby locked the door and began shrugging her bag and shoes off behind you. Your efforts were hopeless; with a sigh of frustration, you bent over to reach your laces. As you did, you promptly felt the ground tilt beneath you—the next moment, you were on the floor. You had hardly registered that you'd fallen until Abby was looming over you.

“Shit. You okay?”

“Fuck—yeah, m'fine. Are you laughing at me?” You had rolled onto your back, and could now make out the clear amusement on her face as she held a hand out to help you up. Her lips were fighting to control her obvious grin, and her shoulders were shaking slightly. “Shut up!”

“I’m not laughing at you, babe.”

“Yes you are!” you said indignantly, ignoring her offered hand and aiming a playful kick at her legs.

“No, no. I promise. There’s nothing remotely funny about you falling on your ass.”

Abby had momentarily given up on helping you up and had instead crouched by your feet, beginning to undo your boots for you as you lay sprawled on the ground. Your arms were stretched above your head, and you stared blearily up at the dark ceiling, thinking to yourself that the floor was actually pretty comfortable.

“I could have hit my head and died. Then you wouldn’t be laughing.”

“A trained soldier who fights infected, dying of a fall while piss drunk. What a way to go," Abby mused, tugging off your second boot and tossing it aside. Then she sat back on her heels, watching you with a look of mingled amusement and affection.

“And as my dying wish, I’d ask that my girlfriend would stop making fun of me in my last moments."

"Uh-huh," Abby agreed, humouring your drunken rambling. She patted your leg, then rose up to lean over you, reaching for your arm again. “Okay, come on. Up you go.”

Too out of it to protest, you obediently gave her your arm and let her tug you to your feet. Your limbs felt heavy and floaty with both the alcohol and sleepiness, and so you allowed her to lead you to the bed and press a cup of water to your lips; you took a few swallows before flopping back against the mattress unceremoniously.

Soon Abby was tucked in behind you beneath the covers, her arm draped over your torso and holding you against her. You could feel her warm breaths against your neck, slowed and deep. Oncoming sleep pulled at your heavy limbs as you snuggled closer into her embrace.

"Abby?" you murmured quietly, wondering if she was still awake.

"Hm?"

"Are you sleeping?"

"About to be." Her voice was a low mumble in your ear.

There was a short pause in which you listened to her breathing, felt the rise and fall of her chest against you. Then, "Abby?"

"Mm."

"You smell good."

"Do I?" she breathed a quiet chuckle. You could tell by the softness of her voice that she was just barely awake. "You been smelling me?"

"Yeah, but not on purpose." You yawned. Considered for a second. "Well... sometimes on purpose."

"Weirdo."

"'s not weird. I can't help it." Another pause. This time, a full few minutes passed. "Abs."

"Mhm."

"Do I smell good?"

"Do you smell good?" You let out a short hum. "Yeah, you do. You smell like strawberries."

"See? You smell me too," you pointed out triumphantly. Or as triumphant as you could manage to sound for being half-asleep. "Weeirdo."

You felt the breathless laugh against your neck, felt her lips curl into a soft smile. She gave you a small, tight squeeze. "Sleep."

[midnight-mourning]

A Short Nap

🐟🐟Midnight's DCA MerMay Day 2🐟🐟

I decided that since many of the requests are cute and fluffy and silly that the little drabbles i'm doing shall get to be evil as a treat :)c

very brief but hope you enjoy!

DCFPU prompt used: Nap

Word Count: 843

Story will be posted to ao3 soon!

CW: blood, injury, and slight depictions of gore if you squint

🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊

You blink, in and out of the edge of consciousness. It's difficult to stay awake, much less stay aware. Your chest heaves as you breathe in, and out. 

In, and out. 

In...

and out.

It's a bit ragged, and internally you still have it in you to wince. 

The sound of waves crashing in the distance is a bit muffled, though you think it's because of how you're partially submerged in the water. It may be from blood loss, that's still a plausible option. The water that laps over your sprawled, bleeding body is soothing in how it ripples. Tickling against your skin like a thin blanket on the bed of rock you're on. Enough to lull you to sleep even, and you just might—

A sudden awareness hits you, shooting a fresh wave of adrenaline into your system. You're much too far from safety to be falling asleep now. You ignore the fact that help for your injuries would be much further off than land. It won't do you much good to think of such. 

A cough racks through you, digging your back into the jagged rock beneath. Discomfort rolls through you, both from your position and the deep gashes trailing from your stomach down your thigh. The stinging has become a background feeling to the deep soreness that resides in your flesh underneath the skin. Muscle aching and burning at even the slightest sign of tension. You almost wonder if you have nerve damage with how little you seem to be able to feel. You genuinely believe this should be more painful than it is. 

Another wave glides over you, and a particularly deep part is filled with salt water for a moment, and the stinging becomes knife-like. Okay, yeah. That's about more what you would expect. 

Tears prick your eyes, both from pain and from reality setting in. The denial you'd been subconsciously fueling has started to slip away, and now you can no longer ignore the fact that lying here like this was utterly and entirely your own fault. 

Too trusting. Too much of your caution long ago melted away. Awareness that you should have had only came to you after the fact. And if not for the swiftest of your own actions, you'd likely never have realized. Maybe that would have been better, dying without knowing. 

Because then you would have just thought it'd been an accident. 

That's how it had seemed, initially. You know how shiny things—especially anything with a glare—would seem to trigger something in him. White pupils becoming slits in red irises, focus changing to a state of mind that was both alert and yet not. Smile falling to a frown and then an outright sneer in a matter of seconds. 

You couldn't feel it initially, too shocked and busy with trying to move back and away to avoid being hurt further. But in doing so, you were able to catch it. The look in his eyes. 

The way total awareness came creeping back, the way the surprise sunk into glee. His snarl turned upward into a sharp grin, and he said something you couldn't quite make out. But if the snicker that followed was any indication of his true intent revealed—well, you took it as such. 

All this time, all the opportunities to kill you, the long afternoons in the water, the conversations, the shared moments of laughter, the soft kisses and murmured nothings. 

And he'd just been biding his time for the right moment. 

Considering the aggressiveness of the injury, you were still able to act quickly, throwing the offending object out into the depths. He dives after it, driven by instinct once again, deep blue tail disappearing into the murky water below. You use the chance to get somewhere he can't reach you. 

Though, if you're being honest it's not as if he couldn't get to you here. You're surprised he hasn't yet, if anything. This rock is at water level even at low tide. The waters around you are oddly empty, not even a shark lurking about with the amount of blood you're freely seeping into the ocean. 

You hardly think it matters at this point. Getting to land is a hopeless and rather pointless endeavor now. You think the best thing you can do now is come to terms with it all. The betrayal, the pain, dying. 

It falls over you like a soft sheet, not smothering, not suffocating. You feel strangely calm, anxiety and fear having left you sometime ago. Who would've thought it would be so... underwhelming. 

The sky is mostly clear up above you, the clouds roll by lazily. The water still laps around and over you. You feel your eyes start to slip shut. 

You try once, twice to open them, then let them fall closed. Sleepiness has begun to take over, dragging you down with it. 

You'll just take a short nap, is all. 

Just a short one. 

You'll wake up again in a little while, and everything will be fine. 

Perfectly... fine.

🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊🎣🌊

I loveeeee being evil with cute prompts, i LOVEEEEEEEEEEEE it, will be trying to catch up now that things are a bit less chaotic in my life, thanks for reading!

Tag list (if you would like added, simply say so!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist @rosescarletful @buzzy-bee @hazelthebat @nightriverart @mr-munchies

[stuckyslut8]

I'm so very tamed now. III

Summary : just part 3 of the series.

Part 1. Part 2.

Warning : smut, angst. Degradation kink. Bucky bring a brat . Minors dni .18+poly stucky of course.

You were currently struggling to find stay up without collapsing, with the blonde super soldier fucking you from behind, your poor over stimulated pussy didn't know what to do .

You looked upto Bucky ,who was currently lost in his own pleasure, hands pumping his cock at the sight of you, on all fours taking his boyfriend so good, he was about to cum "fuck fuck Stevie I'm gonna cum". He whimpered pathetically.

Steve stopped what he was doing , pulled his long cock out of you for a moment,looked at Bucky sternly. "It's daddy for you , you pathetic little slut. Call me Stevie one more time you're gonna get the same treatment as this whore ." He gave your ass a loud smack as he said that, and pushed back into you, making you moan in pleasure.

"sorry daddy " Bucky corrected himself. But maybe that punishment isn't so bad . Bucky thought to himself. Oh he was gonna do it.

Steve was on the edge too, he was controlling himself, just as he was about to cum, Bucky did the one thing steve told him not to ..

"uhhh gonna cum Stevie" he said in a needy voice that was gonna drive steve insane.

"that's it " steve pulled out of you I'm one swift motion. ",you're so done today barnes" he pushed Bucky to his knees. "Open up you little slut, you're gonna take daddy's cock until you can't, and then thank me for it." Bucky obliged, this is exactly what he wanted after all, he was needy for attention all the time.

While you were relieved steve wasn't edging you for the 5th time since you woke up in the safe house, the sight before you was breathtaking, it felt...normal , like everything was back in place, like the whole week just didn't happened and you were back with your loving boyfriends again.

"fuck just like that, suck on my balls you little whore, and then daddy will decide whether you deserve my cum or not " steve's fingers tangled in the brunette soldier's hair, he was so close , so close but he was holding back a little longer to tease bucky.

Bucky finally took all of it in his throat, cheeks hollowed sucking him like he had done it a million times ,which he had . That was it, steve came all over the brunettes face, his chest and collarbone coated in hot spurts of cum.

"thank you thank you daddy " bcuky said trying to lick off whatever fun was left on Steve's tip .

Steve smiled at the sight, ",such a good little whore i got here huh? Know just how to take daddy ." He patted Bucky's head lovingly.

Then he turned to you, "come here you slut" , these words were harsher than when he spoke to Bucky, you can feel it.

You move towards them slowly . "You think you're gonna get out of this so easily? " Steve said in his business voice, which he hardly ever used with you.

You shake your head in response "no Stevie, i-"

He grabbed your throat in one swift motion, "no you don't get to call me that after everything you've done, call me sir" he had you pressed up against the wall, even bcuky knew it was ineffective to interfere now, so he just watched.

"sir I'm sorry, I didn't mean for any of this to happen,i -" you were trying to keep it together.

"no I don't wanna hear your lies, just telle the truth" steve said firmly.

You looked at him , before you could speak there was a knock at the door. Steve sighed , relasing his grip on your throat. "Come in" he said nonchalantly, throwing you one of his shirts to cover yourself up.

You were in a lace babydoll, that steve loved so much, it barely reached your ass barely covered anything,it was bucky's idea , "it's gonna work doll, once he sees you in this piece he can't resist you" and it did work, but somewhere in the middle of fucking you, he turned stoic again, went back to being the shell of a guy , the fierce mobster that he had never let you see before.

It was natasha at the door, she sensed the tension in the room as she entered. "Steve , stark is here to meet you again-" she was cut off by steve.

"again? I told him that was the last time he stepped foot in Brooklyn, what is he doing here again?" Steve shooter daggers at the redhead .

"i don't know sir, he uh he said he had a peace offering for you, he told you to bring the girl too" natasha said struggling to find the right words, even she was afraid of the mobsters wrath.

"the girl? You mean y/n ? " Bucky intervend.

Natasha nodded. Bucky looked at steve as if saying this was a bad idea, but steve didn't respond to that ." Tell him we'll be there in 10".

"yes sir". Natasha left the room as fast as she could.

"bucky, i don't wanna hear anything, ...you" he looked at me, "put on something decent" .

Ten minutes later you were standing in front of stark, in Steve's meeting room, it was smaller than the one in new york, but intimidating regardless. Steve and Bucky we're seated opposite to Tony.

"what is it stark? It better be worth my time." Steve was in no mood for this conversation it was obvious.

"oh just a little peace offering, you can have rhe manhatten trade" Tony said in his ever charming business tone.

"what's the catch? " Bucky asked , he knew stark more than anyone.

"oh that , my friend over here will explain you" he pointed to the man to his right, Alexander pierce.

"you said this was a peace offering, and now you have a deal? " Steve said skeptically .

"oh no that's where you're wrong son" pierce said. "We're doing you a favour really "

Steve rolled his eyes.

"give us the girl back, take manhatten, and we're bakc to being good friends" pierce said .

Bucky was trying to control his anger, he knew he shouldn't do anything that could lead to another war, he waited for Steve's lead.

"why do you want her? " Steve asked remaining calm as ever.

"cuz she's ours" pierce said. That made Bucky's blood boil, it was very visible he was trying not to kill the man on spot.

"don't get me wrong barnes, ...she's like..my daughter, I've known her since she started her training as a spy" pierce said trying to calm Bucky.

"yeah you send your daughter as honey pot to two deadly mobsters?" Bucky spitted out .

Steve placed a hand on his thigh, cue for telling him to stop talking.

"look , she's of no use to you now, or us, but she knows way too many secrets about all of us...so the sane thing to do is get rid of her, and we'll do the job perfectly, no blood on your hands" pierce said.

"noo ...you don't get to do that to me" you finally spoke., the bodyguards we're trying to hold you down but the failed, " I've done everything you said my whole life, I've lived by your rules."

"and look what happened, you failed your biggest task, putting all of us in a jam" pierce laughed at his own words as if he said something funny.

The guards successfully tied up your mouth at that point, stopping you from speaking further. Your eyes met steve pleadingly, would he do this? Give you up so easily, it was for the best after all but-.

"come on rogers " Tony finally spoke up " that bitch betrayed you , don't you think she deserves to be strangled to death? "

Steve remained stoic , as if he was looking at his options, Bucky next to him though looked like he was gonna beat up every one in the room, especially the guards holding you down, they were gonna have a very painful death.

" don't fall for her charms rogers, she's a whore , she'll sleep with any man if i told her to, you're not special" pierce said , words laved with venomm

Tears streamed down your eyes , not just because of those words but everything, the weight of everything finally sinking in., this is it ,this was your end .

Your legs were giving out , if it weren't for the guards holding you down, but suddenly you hear the sound of three continuous gun shots, you, were sure it was for you, this was your end. This is how it ends. .

But to your surprise , the bodies holding you in palce fell limp, you turned your head up to see steve holding his pistol. He grabbed you in one swift motion placing you behind him.

"she's ours , you can leave " it left no room for debate, making the other two men understand, the weather is steve rogers was something to be feared.

The door closed with a thud, turning bucky and Steve's attention on you.

"steve ...what pierce said is not true, I'm not a whore ,i really loved you both, I've never- " he shut you up with his hands on your lips, tears still trickled down your cheeks.

" I know, I know what you are sweetheart,we both know, you don't have to justify yourself to us" at that statement, you broke down in his arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm so sorry stevie" steve shushed you, you felt another pair of arms wrapping around you, comforting you, keeping you from blaming yourself for everything.

"shh...babydoll, we know, we know you're sorry , it's alright, everybody makes mistakes, we know you didn't have a choice" Bucky said kissing the back of your neck.

[hakxs]

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ⎯‎⎯‎ㅤ ㅤ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ HIGHER ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ TIMES.͏ ㅤ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ \

ཻ ﹑ ♥︎ ⌉ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ 2 instances where nat let her guard down around you, in the form of a cigarette and a few lingering touches.

ཻ ﹑ 📝 ⌉ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏dusted off this draft in my notes and got to work :—) as always, mistakes might be here cause I didn’t double check the writing ( whoops! )

you and nat always had this weird tension towards eachother, it was hard to name. not sure if it was easier to ignore it or let the feeling die.

it all started when you took a drag of her cigarette at one of lotties celebration parties after the yellowjackets won a game.

a few minutes ago, nat had spotted you inside in the kitchen. you looked a little uncomfortable because you were just sulking in the corner without a cup watching a bunch of people drink. so, nat grabbed you by the arm and dragged you out here without saying much of anything.

you had been sitting there with her on the poach stairs for a minute and the situation was awkward. not sure if you wanted to thank her for saving your ass, or, if you wanted to go back inside to get away from this situation.

she suddenly shuffled beside you. and pulled a cigarette from the pack tucked into her jacket and lit it with ease. you must’ve been staring at her too hard because she raised an eyebrow and held it out to you. “ do you wanna try? “

nodding, nat gives you the cigarette. watching you take your first blow. it obviously wasn’t perfect, she giggled at how you inhaled the smoke and choked on it, coughing up a storm.

“ don’t inhale it, idiot. breathe out. “ she snaps, her thumb brushing against your bottom lip in a quick motion as she snatches the cigarette from your mouth and wears a big grin, “ watch after me. “ nat says as she takes a puff, blowing it off to the side and handing it back to you.

if you weren’t already embarrassed, you definitely are now. but you swallow your pride, holding the cigarette in your hand.“ alright, watch this. “ you say, determined to not choke on your own smoke.

once you got the hang of it you two were sharing the cigarette and tossing it back and forth to eachother — smiling ear to ear as you both talk about nothing and everything, you and nat were already close because you shared classes together and played on the same team, so the both of you were just catching up. after awhile the topic eventually lands on the current and how you both felt about the party.

“ i dunno. ” you said, exhaling a trail of smoke, “ I don’t exactly love these parties. they’re always loud, full of weird people, sweaty .. kind of... exhausting? too? “ your voice cracks, nose scrunching a little.

for a moment, your focus shifts. the music thumps in the background, too loud. you think. but your little bubble that consists of just you and nat on the steps was just right. nat’s coughing cuts through your thoughts and brings you back to the moment.

“ okay so, “ nat fiddles with the cigarette inbetween her pointer and middle finger, “ you seriously came to a party you didn’t want to go to in the first place? ” she asks, wheezing a little as she begins to laugh at you.

you grin, leaning back as you examine her face. “ I didn’t want to be mean to lottie and turn the invitation down, I know parties mean the world to her after big games. “ you pause, “ even laura lee comes to them sometimes! I’d feel like a loser if I didn’t go. “

“ right, like you aren’t already one. ” nat hands the cigarette back to you after she rolls her eyes, making you smile alot harder than you were — nat’s fingers brush against yours a little longer than necessary. or maybe you imagined it? hard to tell with the way your thoughts are starting to drift.

unfortunately, your thoughts were cut short when the front door behind you suddenly flew open, the loud creak making you flinch.

“ hey, nat! we’re playing beer pong inside, get in on this. “ some guy shouts from the doorway. nat looked over at you, getting up from her position as the guy wanders back inside, leaving the door open.

she looks down at you now, leaning on the railing of the stairs. “ come with me? I promise I’ll be with you the whole time. “ nat starts, crossing her arms loosely over her chest. “ it’ll be a bunch of fun, even if you just watch. “ muttering out, nat gives you a reassuring smile.

you could hear the faint sound of music drifting out from the house, rolling your eyes at how enthusiastic everyone inside was, but the way she looked at you made it harder to say no.

“ no, yeah– I’ll go with you! “ you speak up, cutting off her nervous rambling, you flick the cigarette off to the side and nat reached out a hand to help you up from the stairs and you took it. her grip on you was stronger than you expected as she wrapped an arm around your shoulders and the two of you headed inside.

after this night, nat was alot more talkative towards you — definitely not full conversations, but brief greetings if she saw you around school.

the second time you talked to her, this building feeling felt unbearable .

you were at practice this time, it felt like it was going on forever. however, much to your relief coach ben called a quick intermission to talk through a few future game plans with jackie, the team was free for a moment.

you wondered off and looked for nat like it was second instinct, spotting her across the field, you walked towards her.

she was sitting on the ground by herself, absentmindedly picking at the grass around her as you squat down next to her and sat down, she was sitting with her legs extended out.

abruptly, nat breaks through the silence; “ you ever think about quitting? “ nat asked, you couldn’t tell if she was serious or completely honest.

“ hummmm.. “ you start, dragging your humming out for a second, “ quitting the team? “

there was a quiet moment that passed by, she only looked up at the sky before she spoke up again. “ partially. “ she finally said after a long pause, “ quitting the team, leaving wiskayok, do you ever think there’s something better we could be doing right now? “

you glanced over at her, watching the way the sunlight lingered on her face, perfectly hitting the curve of her jaw. “ uh, sometimes I think about leaving the state, does that count? “ you admitted. “ but then I’d miss this. ”

you definitely didn’t mean to admit that to her, but nat immediately caught on and turned her head to the side to look at you, like, really look at you. “ .. this? “ nat questioned.

“ yeah,” you said, pausing to think about how you could save yourself. “ i like practice. seeing everyone happy, playing around, it’s nice. “

she gave a lazy nod, not responding for a moment. the silence wasn’t uncomfortable at all; it just felt heavy in a weird way. nat started to fidget with the grass again, looking down at the ground.

“ you remember that party? ” she asked after a while, not looking at you, moving her legs to hug them. laying her head on her knees.

“ lotties last party? ” you ask, laced with confusion. how could you forget it? you went home that night and thought about her the whole time, you've been thinking about her smoking with you again in the back of your mind during your classes every so often.

“ mmh. “ she hums in response.

you smiled. “ it was hard to forget. you made my night uhh.. “ you trail off, “ bearable. “ settling on that, your sentence sounding unfinished. you really wanted to say she made your entire night and leave it at that, but you fought the urge.

“ okay well.. you looked so sad just standing inside in the corner! I had to save you. ” nat explained, then she spoke up once again. “ it was fun. being out there with you.” she whispered, the mood suddenly changing — or maybe it was just you again? imagining it like before? just like how she brushed your fingers at the party? but nat kept talking.

“ and you fuckin’ suck at beer pong, had to save your ass a billion times. “ you both laugh, but she cuts it short and starts to murmur again, “ I don’t usually have that much fun at parties, so thanks. “

you stared down at your shoes, unsure what to say for a moment. “ I had alot of fun too, even though I didn’t want to be there. “ you comment, lightening the mood a bit.

nat chuckled, but the moment was cut short after a whistle was blown from across the field, coach ben calling everyone back to the center.

nat stood up quickly, brushing grass off her shorts. then, without hesitation, she offered her hand to you. you took it.

“ alright loser, let’s get our head in the game. “ her fingers intertwined with yours for a second — not by accident. you were sure of it this time. she held your gaze just a little too long before letting go, smiling in that subtle way of hers.

and this time, you knew you weren’t imagining things.

[rogue-durin-16]

HEAD-TO-HEAD (drabble)

Summary: Joe thought she was pretty. Had he just said that, things might have been different for them. Maybe they wouldn't have gone head-to-head at each other for three years like it was a contest.

Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x Reader

Genre: angst splattered with fluff/rivals to lovers

Tags:

Head-to-head: @derersketnoget @ladystardustfromarss @lanadelray1989 @chanshugsaretherapy @hoddystark @sxalbatf @jetjuliette @luvrottt @fromjupitertocentauri @ecompstolemysoul @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bitter-post-millennial @gotxpenny @knight-of-thesun @scottstr3et

Band Of Brothers: @fernando-jpg @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world @clumsy-wonderland @lordndsaviorwinters @lanadelray1989 @chanshugsaretherapy @hoddystark @gotxpenny

Permanent taglist: @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, smoking, brief PTSD, super light allusions to suicidal thoughts if you wanna read it like that

A/N: this is too damn long for a drabble but look away. LOOK AWAY. NOW. ENJOY<3

Head-to-head masterlist

Band of Brothers masterlist

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The sky hadn't changed in days. Same murky stretch of clouds occasionally allowing the stars to peek through, same biting wind. At least it all felt a bit warmer now, either because of the nights spent indoors or due to the slightest temperature rise that the first days of March brought to Mourmelon. I leaned on the outer wall of the barracks, hands in my pockets, cigarette burning too low to draw from. I didn't bother lighting another.

The barrack door creaked behind me. The sound attracted my gone gaze, and I met hers for an instant. I couldn't tell who looked away faster.

"You're gonna freeze out here."

"Ain't that bad." I tossed the stub to the ground, grinding it with my foot. "You lost?"

"Looking for you."

I spared her another look, longer. Her arms, until now crossed, unfolded to fish out a pack of smokes.

"Okay," She lit a cigarette, the flame catching her visage just enough for me to see the dark circles under her eyes. "Let's talk." Plain, simple, with her foot half-turned like she was ready to bolt if it went sideways.

"Oh, now you wanna talk?" I asked, mouth curling bitter at the edges.

She took a long drag, held it, then breathed out slow. "Well, now that I don't wanna blow my brains out, yes."

I scoffed, searching for something in the distance that would distract me from the tightening of my chest and the ghost of the deafening shot ringing in my ears. "You forgot how to be funny or what?"

"I dunno, Joe," she accompanied her quiet response with a shrug. "I forgot a lot of things."

We stood in silence for a beat, the wind rustling through the barracks' roof above us. Inside, someone laughed too loud. It felt like a different world.

"So?" She prompted, shifting from one foot to another. "Do you wanna talk or not?"

I found myself at loss of words, not even knowing where to start. Every sentence I rehearsed came out wrong in my head, and if it came out wrong in my head, it'd sound fatal out loud. So I settled for the thing that felt most true.

"I don't know how to do this." Not without it ending up badly, I wanted to add. I didn't.

She exhaled a defeated sigh. "Makes the two of us."

Another silence followed, heavier than the last but not as sharp. The wind cut sharper, clearing up the night sky ever so subtly.

She looked down at her cigarette like it would give her answers, took another drag and held it out to me, like the gesture alone was a truce.

I took up the offering without a 'thank you', and we stood still, shoulder to shoulder, sharing the same smoke like it might fill the cracks we couldn't name.

She inhaled a sharp breath before breaking the quiet. Didn't look at me while doing so. "You think we're friends?" The question hit soft but landed hard. She didn't mean for it to matter as much as it did. An afterthought in delivery. A loaded gun in disguise.

For a change, I took my time to answer —which in retrospective, might have made it all heavier.

"It's something I've been thinking about lately." She filled my reticence with another sentence, another absentmindedly voiced thought. Perhaps to give me time without being too obvious about it, or maybe to cover up the fact that she had made the air between us ache.

I twirled the cigarette between my digits. The paper was torn from her teeth, still damp at the end.

"No." I said, taking a drag, the taste of her mixing up with the burning sensation. "No," I repeated, blowing the smoke away. "we're not friends."

There was no accusation in her expression, only a quiet kind of acknowledgment. She had known the answer before asking, and wanted to hear it from me anyway. Tactless and unceremonious, but sincere nonetheless, as sad as it was.

"Friends don't..." I cleared my throat, kicking a pebble away from me. "They don't treat each other like we do. You know that."

"I know." Her hands buried deep into her jacket, seemingly to preserve the cherished heat we had been missing for months. "I'm just tryin' to place you somewhere."

I spun my head to check on her, only to find her eyes as lost as mine in the horizon of the camp, slightly squinted, as if she was trying to put something together.

"Do you even like me?" Her question wasn't sad, nor angry. It was curious, the way you ask about the the drills scheduled, or whether the mess is still serving coffee.

"You don't gotta place me anywhere." My words had no malice, and I prayed for her not to hear a fight in them.

It should've been easy to say yes. But it never was, not with her. Not when I didn't even know if she fell into that category. Like. Seemed like an understatement. Sounded off. No, I didn't like her, and I wasn't about to lie to her, but the truth was tangled up into anger and denial, and I didn't have it in me to unravel it.

I rubbed a hand over my jaw, trying to crack a response that would convey the overwhelming mess I felt for her without digging my own grave.

"You drive me crazy."

Her brow pinched slightly. She hadn't expected that, but it was something manageable, a confession already known among us. She could work with that. She just needed to find her own way to do so, so she asked, "'S that good or bad?"

"Ain't a compliment."

I was fast—faster than what had become usual. It left her stunned for two seconds, having lost practice when it came to giving it back as good as she was handed. With the corner of her lips twitching, she let out a small huff. "Alright, Liebgott."

There wasn't a smile on her face, but some of the tightness had eased out of her shoulders. The cigarette hung forgotten between my fingers, smoke curling between us in slow, lazy spirals. I handed it back, my fingers brushing hers too deliberately to pass as casual.

"Just a kiss, huh?"

I didn't miss the way her jaw tightened. She would have rather chewed glass than have to go there again. But because she humored me just long enough to keep me hooked, she asked, "You're still thinking about it?" Her eyes met mine, guarded, expectant. A bit eager for an answer, a bit confused by where I wanted this to go.

"That what you asked Grant after fucking him?"

"Oh, fuck off." She dismissed me, mentally taking a step back. I was trying to make her jump. She saw it clear as day, and chose not to give me the satisfaction. "Just answer the question." She urged, her lips wrapping about the cigarette immediately afterwards.

I looked straight ahead, jaw locked. If I wanted this to go anywhere at all, it was my turn to relent. "Yeah. I'm still thinking about it."

Stillness on her part. Not a single reaction to my admission, not even a quick glance out of pity. Then—

"It felt good." It could've passed as a slipup, but she was determined. "The kiss."

"Yeah. Fuck." My mouth went a little dry, but I pushed through, just like she had. "It felt good."

She nodded once, almost to herself. "We shouldn't do that again, though." It functioned as a full stop on the topic, but she tried to go further, "You and I... We're-"

"I know."

I cut her off, unwilling to hear what came next. We remained suspended in the moment for a while; two ghosts trying to play house with her burning Lucky Strike and the ruins of a conversation.

"Rumor has it they'll have us jump into Berlin." she tried, flicking the ash to the side, too casual to be genuine.

I latched onto the chitchat like a man drowning. "I heard the drop won't be ours."

"Doesn't matter." She paused, staring back past the shadows casted by the barracks. "One way or another, we're entering Germany."

I hummed affirmatively, disinterested in the superficiality of the exchange, yet not wanting to give up on recovering whatever normalcy we seemed to be regaining.

"How d'you say Nazi pig in Yiddish?"

I couldn't help but snort at the levity of her tone. "What?"

"Come on," she insisted, glancing at me for the first time in minutes. The glimpse of her old self peeking under her shell mimicked the starlight seeping through the clouds. "Teach me a bad word, I'll make good use of it."

"Fuck. Okay, try uh..." I cursed under my breath, rummaging through the memories. "Alright, try schweinehund."

It was her turn to laugh like she used to when I talked nonsense just to get a rise out of her. "Sch-wine-what?"

"Jesus, that's awful." I winced. "Schweinehund."

"Schveinyhoond?" she tried again, lacking knowledge but not determination.

"You're butchering it." I scrunched my nose at her, not bothering to hide my annoyance. Not that she minded it anyway. "You want the Krauts to shoot you twice?"

She huffed, putting out the cigarette against the barracks' wall behind us. "Just say it again."

"Schweinehund." I complied, slower this time.

"Schweinehund?"

"Close enough. They'll know what you mean."

"You sure that's not a compliment?" She attempted a joke that somehow landed.

"Yes, Y/n," I retorted, putting emphasis on her name. "I'm pretty fuckin' sure it's not a compliment."

"Just making sure." She gave me a distracted shrug, sneaking one last tentative glance at me before stepping back, her hand reaching for the door's handle. "Let's go in, yeah? I don't miss freezing my ass off."

Let's go in.

Not I'm going in. Not Wanna go in.

Let's go in, she commanded, so I followed.

[regretismyconstantcompanion]

Aberforth stood alone behind the bar after Harry left, the boy’s words hanging in the stale air like smoke that wouldn’t clear. He didn’t move for a long time, just stared at the door, his jaw tight, eyes stormy.

“Bloody fool,” he muttered, not quite sure if he meant Harry… or his brother. Aberforth moved behind the bar again, poured himself a measure of something sharp, and knocked it back in one go.

A time traveller. Who knew everything—everything—about their family, about Ariana, about Albus and Grindelwald… and still wanted to help. His face twisted. Fool boy. He had same damn fire in him. Same bloody stubbornness too. He snorted to himself, shaking his head. “You’re always drawing them in, Albus. Even when you’re not trying. Even from across time.” There was no one to hear him. No one to answer. But the bitterness was old, and it still burned. *********** The morning was still damp from the nights mist, the grass soft underfoot as Albus moved through the narrow vegetable patch beside the cottage. His long sleeves were rolled up, wand tucked behind his ear as he carefully weeded between rows of sprouting leeks and cabbage. His hands were soil-stained, his back slightly hunched—not with age, but with weariness.

Behind him, a few hens pecked lazily at the ground, and a goat bleated irritably from a small, rickety enclosure nearby. Albus straightened with a soft grunt, walked over, and gently scattered a scoop of grain into a worn trough.

“Patience, Ivy,” he murmured, scratching the goat between the ears. “No need to act as if I forget you.”

Fawkes sat perched on the crooked fence post, watching. Silent. Still judging.

Albus glanced up at him, squinting against the grey morning light. “You needn’t look so disapproving,” he said mildly. “There’s no shame in caring for the living things that still depend on me.”

He turned back toward the garden, brushing off his hands, but paused.

There was a shift in the air. Subtle. Familiar. His fingers itched to reach for his wand, almost expecting an attack for a moment. No one ever came uninvited and he invited no one.

The trowel slipped from his fingers and landed with a soft thud in the earth, forgotten.

For a moment, Albus remained utterly still, eyes fixed on the edge of the trees where the shimmer of magic had stirred the air—and then revealed him. Not a specter or illusion. Not a memory conjured by grief.

Harry.

Albus swallowed, his throat tight and dry despite the morning dew. He hadn’t expected him to return so soon. Perhaps not at all. He had half-convinced himself the boy had given up, or better still, come to his senses and returned to the future where he belonged. But here he was. Back. Again.

And walking toward him with that same relentless determination. That same impossible hope.

Why do they always come back? Albus thought bitterly. Not out of pity. Never that. But out of belief. A belief he no longer deserved. He could see it in Harrys eyes, even from a distance, that unwavering need to fix what could not be fixed.

And yet…

Albus found himself brushing the dirt from his robes. Straightening. Looking presentable, as though some part of him wanted to be seen. As though the sight of that young man standing at the edge of his silence had stirred something deeper than his guilt—something older.

Responsibility. Affection. Fear.

Fawkes gave a low, chiding trill from the fencepost. Albus didn’t meet his gaze.

Instead, he lifted his chin and took a few steps forward, boots soft in the grass.

“Harry,” he said at last, his voice quiet—measured, but no longer cold. “You’ve returned.”

Albus Dumbledore was sitting on the couch, staring into the fireplace that was across from him. The crackling of the flames was the only sound breaking the silence in the cottage that was nestled in the Scottish Highlands. It was isolated, miles away from even the nearest village. He had chosen it for that very reason, desperate for solitude even if it wasn't something that had been forced upon him. He had lost the duel against Grindelwald. He had known that had always been a possibility. There were equals after all and had known each other painfully well. They had spent that summer duelling, friendly but pushing each others boundaries. They had grown and changed and become more powerful but their tendencies had lingered. The fight had lasted well over an hour but in the end, Gellert had just gotten the better of him and managed to disarm him and send him flying backwards. His only minor consolation was the fight had left them both panting and injured. But it had been clear who the winner was. There was no backing out of the agreement they had made. His time in Nurmengard had been brief. A chance to recover from the duel before Gellert gave him an ultimatum. He could remain free if he agreed to leave Hogwarts and retreat from the Wizarding World. Albus had already known he would leave the school, for certainly he had lost that right when he had failed his students and the Wizarding World as a whole. He had agreed, knowing Gellert wasn't giving him a choice and not agreeing would result in either his death or being imprisoned in Nurmengard forever or the deaths of those he cared about. And so here he was, over a year after the duel. Staring into the fire, sitting beside a cup of tea that had long gone cold. Books had been removed from the overflowing bookshelves, scattered around the room. Some had been read, some he hadn't even yet opened. Plain parchment piled up on the desk. Few knew where he was and so letters came rarely. He had picked some of the fruit and vegetables he grew in a small garden he tended to. Perhaps he would make some jams and chutneys if he could find the strength and motivation. It came sometimes, mixed in with the heavy weight of despair that seemed to fill his waking hours. He had failed. He had let down the wizarding world and now he banished just beyond the world he loved so much. He knew what was happening there, of course. He did his best to learn of Gellerts ongoing plans and rise to power. Without him there, there was nothing to stop him. He knew the few Ministries that still existed moved against him but it wouldn't take much for them to fall. Everything would be lost then and Albus knew he was powerless to stop it. @johamfated

[nayeoniiz]

U REMIND ME. 2

chapter 1 → @cinnawonbabe | masterlist

pairings ❀ jake x fem!reader

warnings ❀ drinking, public intoxication, jake is lowkey a dick

overview ❀ jake went through a toxic relationship with winter that ultimately resulted with him having a fear of ever loving again. one day, he encounters y/n, mistaking her for his ex girlfriend winter only to find out that it wasn’t. by curiosity, he’s made it a mission to find out who this mystery woman is. will this be the girl of his dreams or will it end up as another failure?

authors note: i’m so excited to announce that i am collaborating with my good friend isla @cinnawonbabe on this story! make sure to check out chapter one before you read this. chapter one of infatuated (jungwon’s story) is also posted so go check it out! the tag lists are open for both stories, so comment if you want to stay ahead of the crowd! enjoy :)

NOT PROOFREAD!!

“yo.” in the midst of the darkness that was jake’s slumber, he felt a cold hand wrapping around his forearm before shaking him gently. he remained unmoving. instead, he opted to squeeze his eyes shut, the desire to stay asleep for just a little bit longer seeming more rewarding than whatever sunghoon was trying to do. and he knew what the objective was, how could he forget? even his dreams wouldn’t let him escape the possibility. “wake the fuck up,” sunghoon’s voice sliced through whatever slumber jake had left to hold onto as his roommate began to shake his body more aggressively. jake let out a grumble, swatting the boy’s hand away, but he wasn’t letting up.

“do you want to get up on your own, or do i have to force you?” the question alone felt rhetorical as not even a second later, whirls of icy winds invaded his skin. sunghoon held the blanket that was once stationed so comfortably on jake’s body in one hand, while he yanked him to a sitting position with the other. “it’s time, my boy.”

“what kind of ominous shit is that?” jake questioned as he rubbed his eyes, the bright sunlight peeking through the curtains blinding him before he could fully adjust to it. sunghoon didn’t speak, just held a grin as he waited for the boy to look back at him.

“it’s time,” he repeated once again, his expression doing anything but faltering as he stared at the boy. he was sure he was starting to look like a madman, but he didn’t mind. there was one thing on his mind, and he had to make sure he saw it through.

“okay, okay. stop looking at me like that,” jake grimaced as he grabbed onto the hand that sunghoon held out to him. this was the first step to a new chapter. though he wasn’t sure how ready he was, he owed it to his friend to try. that was the least he could do.

“ight, i’ll leave you to it,” sunghoon said before making his way to the door for a swift exit. “i’ll be in the living room. and you better put that shit on.”

after mumbling a quick response, jake made his way to their shared closet to see what outfit he could throw together. it was already proving to be a struggle as he shifted through all the clothing options he had. he had a whole wardrobe to pick from, but it had been forever since he’d gotten dressed up. since the breakup, he’d been shuffling through the same variety of sweats and sweatshirts; his sense of style was faltering. he poked his bottom lip out, scanning and reshuffling through the hangers as he thought of what to do. “you can never go wrong with black…” he mumbled, grabbing a black collared polo shirt. he moved over to the pants section on his shelves, grabbing the first pair of black oversized jeans in his field of vision and threw it over his shoulder with the shirt as he grabbed a random pair of socks to shove into the pockets of his pajama pants. deciding on the shoes was the easiest part, you could never really go wrong with black air forces.

when he threw on the fit, he paired it with a silver cuban chain, and a variety of silver rings to spread throughout his fingers. he took some hair shaping gel and styled his neck length hair as a wet style, sprayed some axe body spray all over, before finally making his way to the living room to inform sunghoon that he was ready to go.

there, sunghoon was waiting. his feet rested on the ottoman while he scrolled mindless on tiktok, new audios playing every few seconds as he skipped through most of what he was watching. jake cleared his throat, causing sunghoon’s eyes to meet his. the boy pursed his lips, giving a small nod of approval. just a little dressing up, and it was already starting to look like jake was back in his element. “okay, ken carson i see you.”

“yeah just sum slight,” jake chuckled, grabbing his chain to display the jewelry. they both shared a small laugh and made their way to the door. with each step they took toward the door, jake couldn’t help but to feel less and less responsive of his movements. his heart felt heavy and the door only seemed to pan out, getting further away from him despite being less than twenty feet away now. he stopped the second they were almost out the door, averting his eyes the second he realized sunghoon had noticed his lack of movement. “you good?” sunghoon raised an eyebrow, dipping his head to meet jake’s eyes. he didn’t say anything back, just took a few steps backward and shook his head.

“aw come on man, we’re literally almost out of here. don’t pussy out now,” sunghoon groaned as he shut the door. he bit the inside of his lip, squinting his eyes as he looked off into the distance in thought.

“it’s five o’clock somewhere,” he bargained as he swiftly disappeared into the kitchen, coming back with a half drunk bottle of hennessy, and a shot glass that was definitely used the night before. jake scrunched his eyebrows as sunghoon handed the glass to him, pouring the liquid into it before jake downed it without a word. the hotness of the hennessy traveled down his throat and made an unwelcomed appearance inside his stomach. he let out a few breaths trying to calm down the heat that spread throughout his body. “fuck,” his face contorted as sunghoon stared in awe.

“no chaser? you’re crazy.”

“you didn’t bring me one,” jake retorted, head already spinning as he held the glass out, urging for sunghoon to pour him up again to which he complied with no question.

“you’re a big boy, you got it.”

one again, jake took the shot straight to the head and this time he shook his head as he breathed out. “fuck!” the more the alcohol settled, the more he felt like maybe this was doable. maybe this was okay. “i think i’ll be good after this next one.” he held the glass out again and sunghoon barely got to turn the bottle up once he finished pouring before jake snatched the glass away to down it once again.

“you ready?” sunghoon asked while jake kept his eyes shut, responding with a nod. “let’s go.” and just like that, they made their way to sunghoon’s supra. as they’re driving to the mall sunghoon decided to further set the mood by playing throwaway by future. jake’s ears perked up as the familiar beat invaded his ears, the bass of the car adding onto the vibe as he began singing the lyrics with his whole heart.

“fuck that bitch,” jake mumbled over the volume of the music, which sunghoon almost didn’t catch. but he did, and he was proud.

“say it with your chest!” sunghoon exclaimed, giving him two encouraging taps on his shoulder as if putting a battery in his back.

“fuck that bitch!”

“hell yeah, my boy!” they nodded their heads to the song as it continued playing until the point where the beat switch came into play. that’s when sunghoon switched it to a song of the same nature, excluding the tenderness. by the time they got to the mall, jake was hype. he was already imagining all the girls he could possibly speak to. upon getting out of the car, jake had somehow lost footing on the flat pavement, nearly stumbling to the floor had sunghoon not been quick enough to grab him by his collar.

“can you act normal?” sunghoon rolled his eyes while jake steadied himself, regretting his decision to give the boy “courage” shots to begin with. in his defense, he didn’t anticipate how much of a lightweight his friend was.

“i’m sorry. you know i didn’t eat anything yet, right?” jake nearly slurred as they continued walking into the building. the cold air nearly punched them as soon as they stepped foot inside, the cool toned artificial lights adding onto the chill as they moved forward.

“now, listen,” sunghoon turned to jake whose ears immediately perked. “the whole ordeal is to look inviting but not desperate. keep your head on a swivel and any eye contact you make with a girl, just smile and nod for them to come over.”

“what?”

“like this,” sunghoon’s eyes searched the seemingly endless crowds of people before they found their stationary spot that jake couldn’t quite find himself as sunghoon demonstrated perfectly what he had just said before he leaned down to whisper in his ear. “and just like that, bitches come flocking.”

the crowd remained a blur as the girls approached, jake didn’t see them until they were directly in front of them. it was two girls, their style was alternativeㅡ ripped stockings under their shorts, big boots, off the shoulders cropped band tees, elaborate eyeliner, black contacts, it was very put together. they were gorgeous and all, but jake just wasn’t… moved.

“hey, sorry this is so random, but we just had to say you two are really cute,” the first girl stated, her toneㅡ at least in jake’s opinion, overly light and feminine as if to reel the boys in. he didn’t care all that much. their eyes remained focused on sunghoon, but the quieter friend’s eyes seemed to sneak glances at him.

“yeah, like… mall trip made,” the previously quiet friend chimed in.

“thank you, ladies.” sunghoon failed to hide his grin of satisfaction, his canines displaying themselves almost immediately. it never failed to shock him how easily he could attract women, he was happy to be able to quickly bring an attractive pair to his friend despite the fact that they had only walked in less than ten minutes prior. he didn’t even have to try. “this is perfect, actually. me and my boy, jake, here just moved to this area. figured what better way to get familiar than a good old fashioned mall trip.”

“oh really?” the girl’s eyebrows lifted as she pursed her lips into a surprised looking pout. “that’s cool, how are you finding it so far?”

sunghoon slightly grimaced as he looked off to the side, sucking in a breath. “honestly? it’s been… kind of overwhelming. we could really use a tour guide…or two?”

“well i can be one,” the girl, who was primarily looking at sunghoon, chirped.

“and i can be two!”

sunghoon turned towards jake, whose face remained neutral. he could only offer a shrug, not wanting to express his reluctance to stick around these girls. he wasn’t sure what switched inside of him, but now all he wanted to do was go home. and it was clear on his face, but sunghoon couldn’t quite pick up on that.

“sounds like a plan!” sunghoon clapped his hands together and the quad started moving further into the mall. “i forgot to ask, can we get a name to associate with your pretty faces.”

“oh- yeah! i’m eleanor. nice to meet you,” sunghoon’s admirer smiled, extending her hand out to both of the boys who shook them upon the offer. “and this is maya. you guys are of age right?”

“yes we’re college students.”

“perfect!”

as the group continued walking, sunghoon and eleanor’s conversation flowed easily. their distance between the quad became larger the more they conversed, leaving jake and maya a few feet behind. every time he felt as though they were too far, he quickened his pace forcing maya to follow suit if she wanted to catch up, but the bounce in her step could only display her eagerness to engage with him.

a soft smile played on her lips as she tilted her head toward him. “so… do you have a major yet? or are you still figuring it out?”

keeping it short after an inaudible sigh slipped, he replied. “business.” he didn’t spare her a glance. his jaw was tight as his gaze remained locked straight ahead, each step just a touch wider than necessary—as if silently daring her to keep up. and keep up she would. for every one step he took, she compensated with several steps of her own. she rarely remained inches behind him for more than a second.

“oh cool! are you, like, into finance stuff?”

“not really.”

“okay… um, what do you like then?”

for the first time since they started walking, jake’s movements paused, prompting maya’s to do the same. his posture stayed stiff, hands still stuffed in his pockets as he turned his head toward her, offering the briefest eye contact before looking away again.

“quiet.”

the air between them chilled. “right. well, you definitely picked the wrong group for that,” she laughed once, lightly, almost to herself. when she leaned slightly closer to the boy, he subtly leaned the opposite way.

“seems like it,” he deadpanned and they resumed walking to catch up to sunghoon and eleanor. and though she stayed by his side, every second made it obvious—he was walking with her, not with her.

maya didn’t bother saying anything else, just pressed her lips together, nodded to herself, and picked up her pace. she didn’t look back to see if jake would catch up this time.

when she reached eleanor with sunghoon who was still only a few steps ahead, she walked straight up to them, brushing past the pair’s chatter as she spoke.

“i think i’m gonna go shopping on my own,” she said, not cold, but not exactly warm either. and she didn’t wait for a response as she turned toward the nearest store window and kept walking, her footsteps steadier now that she wasn’t chasing conversation.

“ahh,” eleanor’s eyes followed behind her friend, watching before subtly shifting her eyes to the side where sunghoon now stood still. biting the inside of her cheek, she shook her head. “i should probably go too, then,” she finally said. although sunghoon knew her friend’s departure would’ve been the end of his fun, too, it didn’t soften the blow. his lips subconsciously formed a thin line as he shook his head before he replaced it with a small, forced grin.

“aw, okay. well, it was nice meeting you.” before the words fully left his lips, she was already on her way, hair flipping when she briefly turned around to offer him a smile of her own. a genuine one.

“it was nice meeting you too, text me!”

“for sure, for sure.” his voice was low now as he rubbed his temples, anger brewing in his veins the second he sensed jake’s presence creeping next to him. he didn’t even have to open his eyes before he rolled them. “what the fuck is your problem?”

jake, surprisingly taken aback by his friend’s hostility, slightly flinched as he scrunched his nose and eyebrows. “i don’t know. she’s just not my type.” what a sorry excuse, sunghoon thought. but jake wasn’t sober, so maybe he just didn’t realize how shitty he’d just been.

“well no need to be a dick,” he retorted. “if that was the case, you should’ve said something!”

“i didn’t have much of a choice?” jake couldn’t understand where this pushback was coming from. they’d only been in the mall for a few minutes before being approached, there wasn't enough reaction time for him to object, and even if there was, who was he to decide? “they were literally in front of us, i’m not that rude.”

“whatever man.” sunghoon shook his head as he started walking again. “let’s go to the food court real quick, i gotta go piss.”

“okay, let’s get something to eat too,” jake nodded as they made their way to the overpopulated eating area. chatter filled the open space from wall to wall. jake got a glimpse into each group’s lives as they passed, hearing bits of conversations he wasn’t apart of. “what are we gonna eat anyway?”

“you figure it out,” sunghoon’s eyes wandered around the area until he found the restroom sign in the far right corner. “i’ll be right back,” he said, walking off before the boy could even respond back. though the mall’s volume didn’t change, silence took over him as he scanned each franchise’s sign, unsure of what he could even be hungry for while the bodies of other mall goers moved around his still standing one. nothing stood out to him, but a scent caught him off guard as a trio of women around his age walked in front of him. he blinked, each one lasting what felt like hours as his eyes stayed fixated on the back of one particular girl’s head. a cool toned, burgundy brown hair flowing down her back that sent shivers down his spine while his heart simultaneously dropped into the deep pit of his stomach. there was just no way. she couldn’t be here, right? why here? why now?

his body had a mind of his own, each step he made wasn’t his to take as he felt himself keep walking behind the girl’s until he was right behind them in line at the korean corn dog franchise. he felt like he was on fire. the heat spread from his toes to his fingertips, sweat pooling in the palm of his clenched hands. he searched for nicholas’s face. if it was truly winter in front of him, his old friend wouldn’t be that farㅡ anywhere winter was, nicholas was always in close range. but his face just never seems to appear. the tension in his body eased. his shoulders relaxed as he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. maybe he was just imagining things. the alcohol would be an easy blame, he wasn’t in his right mind to be here alone in such a crowded space, maybe he was seeing what he subconsciously wanted to. it was okay, for now. he was okay.

maybe not. there was no way he was imagining this vividly now. he heard her laughㅡ that damn laugh. the same one he used to elicit after goofing around, trying to ease the attitude she’d caught with him over something minimal that she had waited too long to speak up about. the same laugh that he’d get after one of his unfunny jokes finally landed in a conversation. the same giggle she’d squeal out when he’d just hold her in his arms, showering her with kisses after a long day at practiceㅡ when he’d miss her the most. he just heard it, she was really here. all the pain, all of his buried emotions hit him at once. all he knew now was that he wanted- no he needed to go home.

“y/n, stop!” a voice yelped before giggling. “there’s no way you actually said that to her.”

jake’s eyebrows furrowed as he chimed out the audio of the world around him, his focus zooming

in on the girls in front of him. they turned to winter as she laughed. but, if that was winter then why would they call her y/n? who the fuck is y/n??

“i have to get out of here,” he mumbled to no one other than himself, swiftly making his way to the area he saw sunghoon walk to before he stopped paying attention. it was quiet around him, his heartbeat boomed in his ears and he felt it through his body. breathing jagged, head spinning, and sunghoon was still nowhere to be found. tears began to well in his eyes, but who was he to cry? was that even winter? he sat down at the first empty table he found, resting his head in his folded arms at he sniffled, trying to swallow the remaining pain that was still brewing. lifting his head, he breathed out and rose again making his way back into the line where he previously stood. it was shorter than when he left it, but the group was nowhere to be found. he wasn’t watching where he was going until it was too late, he bumped into the very woman he was looking for, the collide crushing the drink she was holding loosely onto as the cold fizzy soda exploded onto both of their shirts.

“shit!” the girl exclaimed, her eyes darting down to the brown mess on her previously white blouse. “yo! watch where the fuck you’re….” as her eyes trailed back up, they met with his and the world felt like it had stood still for just a moment. “going?”

god, he sure was a looker. the anger she felt had dissipated and any of the crude words she wanted to spill were long gone. “um, sorry about that. are you okay?”

her behavior caught off guard, it was almost as if they were strangers. he blinked. “uh… yeah. i’m sorry about that. i should’ve… i should’ve watched where i was going,” his voice cracked, it was too many octaves too light and you could hear the tremble despite the volume of the room barely making his words audible. the distress was written on his face and it concerned the girl. he was like a lost child searching for his mommy.

“are you okay? do you need to sit down or something? you look like you’re going to pass out.”

“uh-“ his eyes flickered to her two friends, and it only left him feeling more deranged. it wasn’t ningning and karina, winter’s best friends. he didn’t recognize these two at all. “c'mon you can sit with us, hun. it’s okay. do you want anything to drink? water?”

“no, i’m good,” he followed them to sit down, still weary of winter’s possible tricks. he tried to search her eyes for some sort of malice intent, but all he could see was concern. genuine worry for him. he tried to sit as far away from them as he possibly could without it being noticeable. nobody said anything, almost as if they were waiting for him to break the silence first. he refused.

“well, uh- hi, nice to meet you, i’m y/n,” the girl finally spoke. y/n? the name he heard earlier? but how? she looked exactly like the girl he loved before, but somehow she was her own person. the more he looked at her, the more he couldn’t believe it. she was a spitting image. but she wasn’t her?

“i’m jake,” his words came out slowly. “i’m sorry, i should go. my friend is probably waiting for me,” he didn’t bother waiting for a response as he jumped up quickly making his way towards somewhere- anywhere else. he couldn’t stand to be around her any longer, afraid of projecting his anger towards a stranger that looked exactly like the woman who broke his heart. he didn’t care how rude his departure was or if it hurt her feelingsㅡ his was already hurt severely.

“jake, you good?” sunghoon’s voice pulled him back into his body as he looked at him. “you good?” the boy repeated walking closer to him.

“no i’m not fucking good! where the fuck were you?!”

“yo, chill,” sunghoon threw his hands up in defense as if that could diffuse the turmoil spinning in jake’s head and heart. nothing could make him feel better right now.

“NO, i just fucking saw her! orㅡ not her.. she looked just like her, but her name was different. i don’t know what the fu- i don’t know what’s happening! i wanna go home.” he stumbled on his words, still unable to make any sense of the events that just went down. none of it seemed logical. there was just no way.

sunghoon’s eyes widened. “calm down, you’re making people stare,” he whisper-yelled as he threw his arm around his shoulder, trying to guide him back to the main area of the mall.

“i wanna go home, hoon. i don’t feel good at all.”

“i hear you, buddy,” sunghoon tried to comfort him, but he couldn’t help but to stop in his tracks because he just saw her too. “what the fuck?”

jake’s eyes immediately landed on her figure, still sitting down directly in his vision and he swore he could see her looking at him too from the distance though it was all starting to blur now. “what the fuck? is that not winter?”

“don’t fucking say her name, and apparently not. those aren’t even her friends. i don’t know who any of them are.”

“okay, wait here. i’ll handle it,” sunghoon nodded as he jogged over to the area, leaving jake standing as he watched the pair interact. after a few minutes, he walked over waving his phone like a white flag in surrender but he looked anything but defeated. “count your blessings, my boy. i just put. you. onnn,” he smoldered as he handed the phone over. “put it in your phone and text her. she said you’re a little weird and off putting, but you’re cute enough to let it slide.”

“what?”

“this might be better than what i originally planned for you! damn i really outdid myself this time,” sunghoon boasted as he reached for jake’s phone to input the number himself. “same face, different person, endless outcomes. maybe you didn’t need to replace her, but you needed to replace her.”

what did he just get jake into?

[koolades-world]

I COMPLETELY THOUGHT MY ASK SENT I'M SO SORRY- you can ignore me if you want don't worry :)

But, here is my idea!

How about a little secret hang-out with Solomon after they come back from the past to the present-? I imagine they might not spend as much time together because of the brothers and all, so maybe a little secret date between them :)) like maybe trying to make some kind of dish or sweet (and making sure Solomon doesn't add something weird) or something similar

I'm okay with any scenario honestly,I just think it's funny and cute how they might have to do it secretly haha

That's all, hope you have a great day/afternoon/night!

this is soooo cute omg. Came out longer than i originally imagined but I’m happy with it!

also very happy to hear from you <3

"MC. Where are you headed at this hour?" You froze at the sound of Lucifer's voice, despite behing halfway out of the door of the House of Lamentation.

“Lucifer!” You spun around, hiding your small bag of your things behind your back. “Crazy seeing you here. I didn’t know you hung out here.” You mentally face palmed.

“You’ve spent far too much time with Mammon. He’s rubbing off on you.” He shook his head, a knowing smile on his face. “You should get going before one of my brothers discovers us.” Lucifer quickly closed the distance between the two of you, holding the door open for you.

“You’re not going to stop me?” You narrowed your eyes.

“I can tell you miss him.” His tone was wistful, but his smile was knowing. “Be home tomorrow before breakfast so they don’t tear the realm apart searching for you.” He let out a sound of surprise you’d never heard from him when you threw your arms around him. “Honestly, its quite the feat that you’ve managed to make it this far.” He chuckled, hugging you back.

“I told them I needed a mental health evening. I’m surprised too.” You shrugged, not wanting to dig deeper into that.

“I’ll buy you as much time as I can. Be safe.” Lucifer reluctantly let you go.

“I promise.” He watched as you made your way down the path leading to the edge of the property. You waved to him when you noticed him lingering in the doorway. You heard Mammon whine somewhere from behind him, so after one final glance, he shut the door. Once finally over the property line, you teleported using the spell the man of the hour himself had taught you.

Once you appeared in front of the house you’d intended, you gleefully skipped to the front door. Solomon flung it open before you could knock.

“You don’t know how happy I am to see you!” He dragged you into the house. Simeon, Luke, and Raphael had retired to bed hours before you’d arrived, so as long as the two of you were quiet, it could stay that way. “This is the most I’ve seen of you for weeks!” He snatched you into his arms and spun you around in circles, peppering your face with kisses.

“I haven’t seen you this excited since the end of that two month potion mishap.” You braced yourself against his arms, but made no attempt to stop him, giggling like an idiot the entire time. He eventually set you back down, but still refused to let you go.

“Can you blame me?” Solomon sighed into your hair. You lingered in each other’s arms, enjoying the silence. After having spent so much time together, it felt wrong to spend so long apart.

“I ran into Lucifer on the way out, but he let me go. He said I should be back before breakfast.” You squealed with joy, before clapping a hand over your mouth.

“I’ll have to thank him. Otherwise, my hard work would go to waste.” He took you by your hands to the back garden of Purgatory Hall, where there was a simple, but cute stargazing set up. A blanket was spread across the grass. Various pillows were strewn randomly, and to the side were a couple of your favorite snacks. “After you, dear.” He allowed himself to be dragged down to eye level with you so you could press a kiss to his forehead.

“I missed you.”