#writing and reading slumps suck and i’ve been so busy

[celestialwrites]

saying ‘i love you’ without saying ‘i love you’ dialogue prompts

@celestialwrites for more!

♡ “to me, you are perfect.”

♡ "don't you realise? you are my world."

♡ "you brought me back to life."

♡ "the only way i know how to describe what i feel around you is home. i feel at home."

♡ "it's as if my entire life i have been sinking in a storm and you came and pulled me out."

♡ "you know i stayed for you, and frankly, i don't regret it one bit."

♡ "with the whole of my heart, i believe that together we are infinite."

♡ "i never intend on leaving you. you hear me? never."

♡ "thank you for being the shoulder i always needed, even when you hated me."

♡ "i can't live without you!"

♡ "never leave me, my heart couldn't bear it."

♡ "i've spent my whole life waiting for you."

♡ "consumed in darkness, you darling, were my light."

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL WRITERS!!<3

[raspberry-astarion]

The Take Over, The Break's Over - 5

Ascended Astarion x Marin (Tav/OC, cis woman)

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Words: 400 (chapter 5 of 17)

Setting: A!Astarion's palace

Content: Astarion's POV, forbidden relationship, Marin sends a letter, her husband fucking sucks, they are so in love and miss each other an excessive amount

I went too far for the bit on these letters and made visuals but I included a text-only version below it for accessibility~

Warnings: descriptions of emotional ab*se

This is not the place for anti-A!A discourse. I love both versions of Astarion, and it's okay to have issues with the Ascendant route, but I will block you if you clown on these posts~

First chapter

Previous chapter

Next chapter

Several days later

“My lord,” came Evi’s muffled voice from beyond his study door. “The evening post has arrived.”

Astarion rose from his desk immediately. There wasn't much point in hoping, but he did, every time. He opened the door and took the envelopes from her hands.

“Thank you,” he muttered absent-mindedly, thumbing through them right in front of her. Is that-

“You're welcome,” Evi responded with a knowing smile, excusing herself. One was addressed in Marin’s handwriting, Ld. Astarion Ancunín, with a return address reading only M. He took it to his desk and cut it open immediately, his heart racing, careful not to slice through her handwriting on the envelope.

Dearest Astarion,

The days have been so dull since we parted. Del has been watching me more carefully than usual since his return, and I’ve been busy with my housework. I don't think he suspects me of our visit, but I have been more absentminded than usual, which may have set him on edge. I've been trying to keep up with my duties around the house, so as not to alert him to any changes. However, I think of our time together ceaselessly.

I long to join you again. Even returning to the bustle of Baldur's Gate felt magical compared to this town, and reminded me of our adventuring days. Del won't tell me the next time he goes out of town until a few days in advance, so I'm unsure how long it will be until I can get away again. I wish we could be together already, but we will have to wait for the next opportunity, my silver star.

My garden is thriving as the weather warms, which is cheering me up. I planted a few beets early this spring, and I think of you when tending to the sprouts. (because of the red juice)

I will write again as soon as I can. I have to be careful with this letter and will place it in the public postbox myself. In the meantime, I hope you are thinking of me the way I think of you. Our night together was far more special to me than a merely physical affair.

All my love,

Marin

Below the writing, there was a tiny doodle of a vampire (is it me?) looking at a beet.

Astarion leaned back as he finished reading, slumping down in his seat, his chest aching. She is so sweet. He almost felt guilty for being aroused at the conjured memories of her in his bed, but he knew it wasn’t a reflection of his heart. She is so much more to me.

[bubblyhoney]

sarah i have thought of another fic request or like a cute idea i guess! i didn’t have anyone in mind when i thought of it so you can write it for whoever you want honestly :)

okay so the reader is a streamer but streams games like animal crossing, standew valley, etc. then (insert who you’re writing for) says they don’t like that game, but later ends up buying it and the reader is like “i thought you said you didn’t like this game” and they’re like “well i like you” and they confuses their feelings and they end up playing the game together and reader gives them a tour of their island or farm

i feel like this request isn’t good, but the scenario seemed cute and i wanted to share it. sorry if this is confusing or just too specific cuz i know it can be hard to write requests like that! but yeah i hope it gives you inspiration and you like the request <3

new horizons

warnings: language, a Marvel reference (hint: natasha said it about tony), stupid idiots who don’t realize they like each other, use of pet names, Uno rage, Hasan Piker's presence

words: 1473

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

A/N: i’ve been trying to catch up a little on my requests (i’ve only got a couple so i’m not super overwhelmed) but school and outside life has been taking up most of my time so this one took me a while to make! tbh— ive never played animal crossing so i did google some of the game mechanics and i apologize if anything is inaccurate about the game…. but i liked relaxing and writing this cute one so thank you for requesting hails :3

requests/inbox status: open

-

“This game is trash.”

Your head quirks, fingers stopped on the screen. You’re in the process of giving your character a cute new nickname; it’s kind of hard to decide between “awkward dude” and “elderly skater”.

“Excuse me?” Your chat comes alive with emotes and ‘KEKW’s, obviously entertained by you and your almost-more-than-friends-friend.

There’s a story for that later.

Sapnap’s rough laugh comes through your headset and he audibly swallows, the sound of a water bottle dropping onto his desk echoing.

“I’m just saying—it’s boring. It’s like Minecraft but you don’t like… do anything.” The grainy image of his bearded face shifts and you see him pull out his phone.

“It’s— you can’t even compare it to Minecraft! It’s a completely different game system—you actually interact with other people live in the game.” You huff out a dramatic sigh, slumping in your chair with a pout. “Just because you go into this lucid state where all you know is ‘touch block, hit George’ doesn’t mean this game isn’t fun.” (He scoffs at your awful impression of his voice. Your viewers love it.)

“Jeez,” he mumbles, fumbling with the cap of his water bottle. “Touched a nerve there, bud.”

You roll your eyes, getting back to the village in the game.

“Don't ‘bud’ me.”

The call falls comfortably quiet, the sounds of him tapping obsessively on his phone and you clicking away filling the silence. A gentle bedroom-pop YouTube playlist remains in the background, prompting you to hum along and glance at the chat to see a flood of “check twitter” and “Y/N TWITTER!!”.

“What happened on Twitter?” You mumble, confused, and pull the website up on another monitor. Sapnap just makes a curious noise, swinging back and forth in a circle. “Oh my God,” you say to yourself, fingertips brushing your parted lips.

“What?”

“Hasan Piker just followed me and retweeted one of my not even remotely political old tweets. Like from a year ago.”

“That’s— wow. Congrats?” Sapnap’s voice cracks, and his ears flush pink the tiniest bit when you glance at his face on Discord.

“I’m gonna go on record and say that he could get it.” You shake your head in disbelief.

Sapnap falls uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal, so you look past the frenzied chat and to his screen— wait. He muted and turned his camera off.

“Um,” you start, furiously typing question marks in your private chat. “Where’d you go?” You mute and turn screen share off for your stream, concerned that he might’ve fallen off his chair and broken his neck and needs you to call the ambulance.

The characteristic ding of a twitter notification sounds through your bedroom, and you look at your phone quickly.

“That’s where I went.”

Sapnap Tweeted: “all Y/U stans can choke on my dick”.

“Jesus, Sapnap,” you say, and rapidly refresh to read the replies. This tweet was deleted. “That’s so— that barely makes sense, bro. Why— literally what?”

His snicker floods your ears and you relax in your chair. Crisis: averted. “Don’t fucking— what’s wrong with you?”

“I thought it would be funny,” he offers, shrugging, and fiddles with the straw in his water bottle, smile fading. “And also Hasan pisses me off.”

“Why, ‘cause he wants a piece of this? Jealous?” You think back to your viewers, knowing they’re probably spamming question marks and coming to ludacris conclusions about both of your absences. No offense to them. You remember your stan days very vividly.

“I mean, kinda.” He rubs once at his nose, glancing at the camera (and what feels like you) before taking a sip from his water bottle.

“Wow.” You watch one strand of his hair fall from beneath his hat and brush against his full eyebrows. “I’m uh—I’ll get back to my stream. You coming? Or is it time for a Sapnap-snack?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He snorts and leans his chin onto the balance of his arm.

“That means you like to take a little snack break mid-stream and come back approximately nine hours later and you didn’t even eat.”

“You know what— fuck you.” He flicks the camera as you laugh at the look on his face.

The teasing mood is easily kept as you switch games from Animal Crossing to Uno, all the while slamming Sapnap with +4’s and skipping the newly-arrived BadBoyHalo at any chance you can get. It unironically pisses him off and he has to take a Sapnap-snack break midway through (only a fifteen minute break this time, during which you and Bad take a “What Kind of Bread Are You?” quiz). The rest of the night is filled with devious cackles (you), loud and sudden bangs that sound suspiciously like someone hitting their desk in anger (Sap) and the stupid barking of Rat, AKA Lucy (Bad). She’s cute but a menace to the sound quality of Bad’s microphone. You sign off stream around 2 a.m. with various forms of thanks and kisses blown to the camera. It’s been a refreshing night, actually; you’ve been busy organizing a partnership stream all week and all your friends have been busy filming or editing or what-not. Quackity had time for a little Roblox every couple of days, though. He’s got your back.

The next time you see Sapnap is after a two hour stream of him try-harding in Valorant and you finishing responding to an email from your partnership in the VC.

“Okay, I’m back.” You hear him shift in his chair and click a couple more times on his keyboard. You perk up in your chair, closing the email browser you’d been looking at.

“Do you want to play anything else? I’m down for anything.”

“Absolutely not Uno. You can go to hell for giving me 6 cards that one time,” he jabs. You scoff, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“Okay, the +4 was on me but it’s Bad who gave you the last two. That’s not my fault, sweetie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, trailing off as the clicking of his keyboard stops. “Hey, um—Guess what?”

Your heart beats loud in your ears at the tone of his voice. He sounds nervous; that’s never good.

“I’m scared to guess,” you try, playing with a little Minecraft dog figurine you have on your desk with fidgety fingers. “What?”

“I bought Animal Crossing.”

Silence. You stare at his discord icon blankly, trying to reroute the wires of your brain.

“Tell me you love it.”

“Well… I haven’t actually played it— but you said you liked it, so.”

“So,” you repeat him, ears warming but continuing on. “Is that what you tell all your friends when you buy something they like? That it's because of them?”

He seems to choose his next words carefully, pausing a beat to consider your questions.

“Well, I don’t have a crush on all of my friends.”

“You—what?” You stutter, caught off guard and stumbling. What did he just say? “Don’t tell me you mean you have a crush on me.”

“I’m almost positive I just did.” His discord icon stares right back at you, taunting.

“You know, you’re very casual for someone who just admitted they like-like me.” Your cheeks flush pink and you have to press a hand to your chest to keep your breathing sounding stable.

“Yeah, I’m kind of cool like that,” he offers, a huff of a laugh punctuating his statement. The conversation moves into a lull that you can’t help but know is because of you. He must expect you to say something about it, right?

“You are very cool, Sapnap.” You tilt back in your chair, sucking in a breath to prepare yourself for your next words. “And—Isortakindofhaveacrushonyoutoo.”

He must understand you, for you can hear the grin in his voice when he asks “Really?”

“Y-yeah.” You feel like a preteen again, all shaky and giddy in front of the boy you just asked to a middle school dance.

“Um, alright. What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you answer genuinely and swing in a happy little circle in your chair. “We could play Animal Crossing.”

“I’m down.”

You swear you’ve never heard more beautiful words.

He keeps his camera off for most of the time you two play, too focused on creating his island and asking you questions about how to fish to turn it on. He silently flips it on when you help him decorate his lawn, needing to show you in real-time the decorations he has bought and where you think he should put them. He looks cute. I mean, of course he does. He always does.

You tell him goodbye late in the night, eyes saying a little more than just “see you tomorrow”.

You like him. He likes you.

It’s even better when you two have matching gardens.

-

A/N: anybody and everybody (especially my precious hailey) let me know what you think!! :]

[superphantom]

Enthralled with the idea of Danny from Danny legit dies and has a physical corpse but can still kinda be human au and the Winchesters from just regular canon bumping into each other while... hiding bodies.

Three teens carrying a fourth by his arms and legs into the woods. Would they even be able to tell that it’s Danny’s corpse? It’s gotta be pretty much cooked through at that point. Hold on, I’m going to write something rq, apologies for any mistakes/bad writing but the concept is just too fun. If you think so too, go ahead and try your hand at it, this has so many excellent interpretations.

Edit but not really cuz I haven’t actually posted anything yet: I’ve only read back through this once but I’m pretty happy with how it’s turned out, just wanted to add a quick warning for horrific death and descriptions of a corpse and all that. 

--

Digging graves always sucked, naturally. It’s hard to plow through a good six feet of rocks and dirt and bones and whatever other crap might be waiting below the surface (one time, in some backwoods in Ohio they’d hit a bathtub around three feet down. Never got an explanation for that one). But, of course, the muggy pits of July made things much worse.

Sam had shed his top layer in the car, and was now down to a single shirt. He probably would’ve taken that off too, had it not been glued onto his back from sweat. Dean, who’d made a dig at Sam earlier that night for not being able to “take the heat like a man” still wore his flannel over his shirt, though it was beginning to soak through.

Laborious elements aside, what really made grave digging so tedious was the inability to fill it with anything else. It wasn’t like they could play music or anything, when they were in graveyards they had to keep a low profile, and all the other smart places to go hiding a corpse don’t get radio reception. And talking? With the amount of dust and dirt they kicked up, not to mention the work itself, it was more like trying to reason with a bully as they threw sand in your face. Gritty, painful, and overall, not worth it. So the brothers dug side by side with only light from a half-dead camping lantern and the singing of insects to keep them company.

Sam hit a rock with the tip of his shovel to knock it loose from the wall, the scooped it up and heaved it over the side of the grave. It was still only about knee height, meaning they’d have to put in another two hours minimum if they wanted to get the man hidden.

He’d been working with a witch to dodge death as he cheated his way through some shady business dealings. Actually, he’d been fairly easy to subdue- probably why he needed the witch in the first place- but once Dean had yanked the hexbag from where it hung around his stick-figure neck he’d begun to convulse and when he stopped, well, he wasn’t going to start convulsing again. That, however, was a problem for tomorrow.

Sam knocked a few rocks loose this time, letting them pile around his feet then launching them all over his shoulder at once. With the sound of metal clacking against rock gone, he realized Dean had stopped digging and was leaning against the handle of his shovel cautiously looking out into the woods. Sam moved in next to him and tried to figure out where he was looking.

“What are y-“ he asked. Dean shushed him before he could finish, then signaled for him to listen and pointed just past a thick bramble, to a gap between two trees. It would’ve been impossible to spot without years of hunting experience, out about 100 yards away were little moving. They weren’t even shadows, it was simply just movement in the dark. “Dude-“

Dean shushed him again, and shot him a dirty look before pointing more forcefully in the direction of the movement and focusing back in place. He gestured once again for Sam to listen. For a few moments they stood in silence, barely breathing. It was faint, but Sam began to make out what was unmistakably English. a dull beam of light swung around towards them then went back to facing the other direction, effectively re-blacking out the figures. Sam reached back, not taking his eyes off the movement, and now occasional glimpses of light, and snapped off the lantern.

It took a few seconds for their eyes to adjust to the dark. Once they could see each other again, Dean tilted his head to the left, pointed a few times with two fingers in a two directions then held one finger against his mouth. Sam nodded and they both began creeping in opposite directions with the intention of surrounding who or what was having a chat out in the woods at night.

Sam moved as if he were gliding above the forest floor. He could vaguely make out Dean doing the same, though he was now could see Dean about as well as he’d been able to see the... three? He hovered further. Definitely three people (or, by his guess witches), earlier. Now that he was getting closer, though, he began to take note of a few things.

There were three short witches(?) standing fanned out around something slumped on the forest floor, their dying halogen flashlight held limp in one of their hands, flickering sadly. The witch farthest from flashlight-witch and closest to Sam held a shovel, though didn’t make any moves to use it. None of them moved, they all just stood there and stared at whatever was at their feet.

He signaled to Dean that he was going to go in from the front. He was pretty sure he saw the shadows nod to him, so he took that as an okay. Like a mouse on cotton, he positioned himself just far enough into the forest that they couldn’t quite see, Dean doing the same but behind them.

“I- What do we do?” the one holding the flashlight muttered. His nose was awfully clogged, it sounded like he’d been crying.

“I don’t know, Tuck.” The one holding the shovel answered. She also sounded upset, but more like she was doing everything she could to push back tears, a tone that Sam knew very well. “Danny, are you sure you wanna do this?”

The one in the middle, Danny, shook his head. Each of his arms reached across his middle, like he was trying to hug himself, or maybe more like he was trying to make himself look small, trying to hide. “I-“ his voice cracked and he let out a few sobs. The leaves and sticks made a simultaneous crack as he fell down onto his knees, folding over himself and shaking with pure, cutting sorrow.

Flashlight, or Tuck apparently, and Shovel got down beside him, hugging him from either side. They held one another and sobbed, one of them, Shovel, creaking out some pained “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”’s between wordless wails. From the looks of them, they couldn’t be more than 12 years old. Or maybe they could, Sam wasn’t a pediatrician. They were undoubtedly much too young to be in the middle of nowhere, all alone in a fragile mental state doing who-knows-what.

Sam looked to Dean then gestured with his head to let him know he was going to talk to the kids. Dean shook his head and violently gestured with his gun at the kids. Wait. Not /at/ the kids, beyond them. He’d neglected studying the white-wrapped body in front of them. That explained the tears. He couldn’t help but feel for them, even though for all he knew they’d just murdered someone in cold blood. He looked back to Dean and nodded, then signaled again.

Keeping his gun at the ready, but tucking it behind his back he slowly and deliberately stepped out of the trees, intentionally making noise so they’d see him coming. Tuck looked up with bloodshot eyes and a runny nose. Danny and Shovel tensed but didn’t further acknowledge him.

“Um, hey,” he said, trying his best for nonthreatening and landing at the border of creepy and awkward. “Are you guys good?”

Tuck’s eyes flooded with tears, but he got up on shaky legs, trying to pull Danny and Shovel up with him. They weakly joined him, leaning against one another for support. Despite the warm night, all three were trembling.

“I’m, uh, I’m not here to hurt you,” Sam started, not really sure where he was going with this, “I’m Sam Winchester, what are your names?”

Tuck gave him the same watery stare he’d had the whole time, like Sam was the saddest thing he’d ever seen. Shovel looked up next, she was more angry. Maybe her smeared and ruined makeup should’ve made her look silly, but all it did was add to the aggression she exuded. He could see her squeezing both her friend’s shoulders and tugging them very slightly to the left, wordlessly signaling- or at least trying to- an escape plan. Sam pretended not to notice.

“I just wanna know what happened here,” he inched his way towards the corpse. As he got closer he could smell burnt hair and flesh, another thing he was all too familiar with. He didn’t break eye contact as he squatted down and gently pulled the sheet back from a tuft of what he assumed was hair.

He bit the inside of his cheek upon seeing the boy. Fried was the only word that could describe him. His mouth hung open, as did his eyes- or at least, what was left of them. Ooze had dribbled from every orifice and re-solidified in horrible mauve blobs. His hair was barely more than a charred mess, his skin was peeling and bubbled in places, and so discolored Sam could barely make out the dusting of freckles across his nose. This was a death in agony if he’d ever seen one.

He folded the cloth back over the boy’s head and straightened up, pulling the gun from where it had waited behind his back.

“Alright,” he said firmly, “I’m gonna need some answers.”

Danny looked up, letting Sam properly see his face for the first time. His red-rimmed eyes widened at the sight of the gun, lips tightening into a thin line. It was a look of fear and resignation. He ran the back of his hand across his nose. Sam noticed a dusting of freckles on it. He looked to the sheet and then back to Danny, then checked once more.

“What the hell is going on here.” Sympathy gone, Sam allowed himself to posture intimidatingly. Whatever freaks these- these- these... freaks! were, they weren’t about to get away with cooking some kid alive. “Talk.”

The “or I’ll shoot” was silent, but understood. Danny cleared his throat, one hand rubbed nervously on the back of his neck.

“It- I-“ he stuttered, then in a barely audible trembling voice he said, “I, uh, I think I’m dead.”  

[chasingpj]

𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐝-𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝

"Ehm, is this like a seven-minutes-in-heaven thing?”

pairing: percy jackson x child of hecate!reader

words: 5,236

warnings: none? pls let me know if i missed anything

timeline: post sea of monsters

if you want to be tagged every time I update this story click here

a/n: hi hi! i hope you guys like this chapter. i fell in a little bit of a rut about my writing so I've been holding off on posting but I think I'm pretty satisfied with how this came out. i'm so fried after editing this so if i happened to miss any typos, sorry, i tried haha.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

The heat and dimness from the cabin surround you like a warm hug making it challenging to stay awake. Your eyelids droop against your wishes to study, fatigue messing with your vision as it blurs the letters on the page you were trying to read. As you find yourself mindlessly reading words, you decide to give in, and soon you’re settled in an in-between state of consciousness.

Suddenly, you’re standing at the entryway of the kitchen in your home, the first thing you notice is the scent of your favorite meal as it fills your nostrils, and you smile sleepily as your father looks at you. He’s hovering over the stove, right hand stirring something in a saucepan, and he smiles widely at you.

“Stella, you’re home!” He announces as he pushes his round glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Go, sit! Dinner is almost ready.”

You smile at the nickname your father has called you since you were a child. He said that the first time you cried in his arms, your little body illuminated like a supernova, and since then, he’s called you Stella, the Latin word for star. You make your way past the kitchen island on your left, noticing the history channel playing on the small TV in the corner of the counter like always. A sense of nostalgia hits you in your core, and you sigh, feeling safe. As much as you loved the camp, homesickness was unavoidable.

You settle yourself at the black round table in the back of the kitchen, chin resting on your palm as you look outside of the window beside you. The small garden of herbs and flowers you have in the backyard is as you remember. Every summer, your father cultivates herbs and flowers in dedication to your mother. He uses most of the herbs for spells, and at the end of the summer, he would make a bouquet out of the brightest flowers in the garden and rest them on your mother’s alter.

The reminder of your mother made your stomach feel heavy, and you quickly push the thoughts of her away. You weren’t in the mood to deal with them, especially not in a dream like this. The thumping of Atticus’s footsteps coming down the stairs catches your attention, and soon your brother appears in the doorway with his usual wide smile.

“Hey! I thought you were making my favorite tonight.” His shoulders slump, and he playfully narrows his eyes at you. You shrug,

“What can I say? Must suck not being the favorite,” you joke, and Atticus gasps dramatically. The sound of your father’s laughter fills the room as he tilts his head back.

“I love you guys equally! That’s not nice to say,” he says as he points the spatula at you as he squints. You snort as Atticus joins you at the table,

“Yeah, Y/n, that’s not nice,” he repeats, poking his tongue out at you, and you return the action. You and your brother have a short competition of who can stick out their tongue harder as your father puts the food on the table. At the sight of your favorite meal, you let Atticus win, turning to put a portion on your plate.

Amidst your dinner conversation with your father and your brother, the deep growl rumbling in Ambrose’s chest makes its way into your dream. A soft hum leaves your lips, your neck relaxing against your will, and your head jolts forward as your cheek slips off your palm. You blink a few times, groaning since you’ve lost your dream.

“Ambrose, shush.” Your chin returns onto your hand, and you submit to your fatigue once again. The image of a ravenous bunny, cartoonishly stomping its way through a candy cane forest, filled your mind, projected on your eyelids like a movie in a theater. It’s too ridiculous to give much thought, and you were too busy relishing in the soothing feeling of sleep.

All of a sudden, Ambrose bursts into a series of short high pitched barks, jolting you awake. Your eyelids fly open, and you turn in your chair. Ambrose stands up tall, his fur contouring to his muscles as they flex. His ears are perched up; his focus fixed on the back wall. Whatever he was looking at, he didn’t dare to approach.

"What? What is it?"

The bunk beds obstructed your view, but you are sure you are alone. Everyone was out and about doing their normal camp activities; if anyone had entered the cabin, you would have heard them.

You groan in your hands as they rub your face to shake off the remaining fatigue, growing annoyed at Ambrose’s persistent barking that nips harshly at your eardrums.

“Ambros-”

A bitter breeze fills the room, and your breath gets caught in your throat at the feeling. Your arms wrap around your frame, failing to prevent goosebumps from forming on your arms. It was impossible. Today’s weather report called for a hot, humid day like it’s been all summer. As the hair at the back of your neck stands straight, and you have an idea of what’s happening, but you hoped you were wrong.

Ambrose abruptly ends his barking with a distressing whine. His ears sag low on the sides of his head as he retreats, his large body shrinking in fear. With cautious steps, you approach him in the middle of the cabin. The thumping of your pulse is loud in your ears, and for the first time in a while, a familiar pang strikes you in your gut. You’re being watched.

Despite his fear, Ambrose guards you finding the courage to stand tall and confident after cowering a few seconds ago. You let out a shaky breath, and warily, you finally catch sight of what has his attention.

A tall, dark figure stands still at the end of the room. The light that bleeds through the thin curtains behind it wasn’t enough to expose its face but instead illuminates the swirling black vapor that made up this human form.

From your years of experience, you learned how to deal with these kinds of things. Ghosts gravitated towards you like a moth to a lit flame. Most of the time, the spirits are harmless, looking for some company, and were eager to ask for favors you often couldn’t fulfill. Other times, they were more malevolent entities, existing to feed off your fears, and had the reputation of being stubborn guests.

From the way, the room turned impossibly cold in the middle of a sweltering summer afternoon and the heaviness in your gut, the shadow in front of you was definitely the latter.

"Who are you? How did you get here?" Your voice booms through the silence. "Why are you here-"

The cabin door slams open, the shadow dispersing the moment the sunlight bleeds through the room. You jump, gasping as your whole body turns around. The two figures at the doorway are dark, the sudden beams of light blinding you for a moment before you manage to recognize Connor and Travis.

“Why is it so damn dark in here? And cold? Jeez, Y/n, open the curtains at least,” Travis nags with a smirk on his lips.

“I don’t need light to see.” You groan, turning your face away, the sun shining right at you as Travis begins ripping open the curtains. “And I hate when the sun gets in my eyes,” you complain, stepping aside where sunlight doesn’t reach. Though you saw the shadow disperse, you glance at the back of the room, double-checking that what you saw was gone.

"You know... “

Your focus returns to the two boys standing side by side a few feet away from you. Both of them sporting the mischievous smirk that all the Hermes kids had when they’re about to stir up trouble. Connor only uttered two words, but it was clear they were up to something, and you were about to be involved.

"You've been locked up in here, in the dark, alone, for a while now. It's been like a week and a half since the incident, and we know you’re still a little down,” he trails off, swaying on his feet.

"... yeah?"

"And we think we have the perfect way to cheer you up!" Connor gives you a toothy grin, and as confident as he looked, you don’t quite believe him.

"And that is?"

"I think it's time we execute our bunny prank on the Ares cabin!"

You press your lips together in a thin line; head cocked to the side. "That's supposed to cheer me up?"

"Yeah!"

"How is putting my life in danger going to cheer me up?" Your gaze switches between the two as they exchange looks with each other.

“Um…” Connor says, lost for words.

"It'll be fun. We promise!" Travis insists, waving your comment off. He moves to sit in your chair, leaning back as he props his legs on your desk. "So, have you thought about how we're going to do this?"

You sigh softly, not bothering to protest. If you denied participating, Connor would be quick to remind you what’s at stake.

"I have," you admit. After your last interaction with Clarisse, the prank did come to mind.

The Stoll brother’s faces grew almost as bright as the sun outside. Connor takes a seat on the bed closest to you, leaned in with his elbows on his knees, "Tell us the details then,” he urges.

"Okay, so I found a shape-shifting potion in my spellbook. It's pretty simple. I have all the ingredients except for one. The only thing I need is the hair of a rabbit. Get that for me, and I'll make it." Connor and Travis nod eagerly, and you can already see the gears turning in their heads as they formulate a plan to catch a bunny.

"If you can get it to me in a few hours, we can sneak into their cabin while they're practicing in the arena. Then I can pour a few drops of the potion into their water cooler. The potion is potent; you only need a few drops for it to work."

"Sounds like a solid plan. They'll be thirsty after practicing, and boom, they’re all cute little bunnies,” Travis says, legs unmounting from your desk, and he hops onto his feet.

"So hurry and get me rabbit hair!”

A small, almost manic laugh comes from Connor’s lips, "This is gonna be epic!"

"Should we ask the nymphs for help?" Travis ponders out loud as he makes his way out of the dorm.

"Wait! We should get scissors! Do you have scissors?” Connor asks you, and you giggle. You grab a pair of scissors from your desk drawer, and Connor quickly swipes them from your hands the moment you present them to him.

"Thanks, Y/n!” Swiftly, he turns on his heels, trailing behind Travis.

"Be careful, please! Don't hurt the bunny!"

"We won't! The worse we'll do is give it a bald spot; they’ll be fine!" Travis shouts.

After the slamming of the front door and the ragged footsteps of Connor and Travis’s departure, your smile falters as the silence regresses. The figure you had seen comes to mind, and you frown, Ambrose whining as he sits close to your legs.

"That was weird, wasn't it?" You lean down, affectionately scratching the backs of his ears as Ambrose licks your wrists. The sight of his drooping eyes told you enough to know that this wasn’t the last time you’ll be seeing whatever that was.

"C'mon, let's not worry about that now. We have to make that potion." An uneasy grumble comes from Ambrose's chest as he nuzzles his snout in your hand.

"I know, I know," you whisper before standing up.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

"Shh, they’re coming,” Travis announces in a whisper, silencing you and Connor’s conversation. The distanced chattering and footsteps of the Ares campers become louder as Clarisse pushes open the front door. The three of you duck lower in your place as they scatter to their beds, beginning to take off their armor. Travis slowly rises from his crouching position, peaking enough to see the inside. He gives you and Connor a nod, a silent okay to peek yourselves. Cautiously, you come up, watching the group now crowding around the water dispenser, playfully telling each other to hurry up.

Connor lightly pats your shoulder with excitement, and you scrunch your face, anticipation swirling in your stomach as one by one, they begin taking sips from their water bottles. Your jaw drops as Mark forms a snout, his hands flying up to his face.

"W-what?" He sputters, moving closer to his reflection in the mirror. "What is-"

The rest of his words became soft squeals, his whole body shrinking and shifting into a stark white bunny in the blink of an eye.

“Um? Did that just-?”

“How did-”

“You have bunny ears!” Ellis shouts, pointing at Clarisse while she formed a pair of her own. Clarisse didn’t have time to comment as Ellis joins her half-brother. One by one, they began shrinking, and small shrieks fill the room.

"What are you guys doing?" The three of you practically jump out of your skin, heads snapping in the direction of the voice.

Percy’s eyes are wide and curious, furrowing his eyebrows at the chaos breaking out in the Ares cabin. You open your mouth to say something but stop yourself, not wanting to blow your cover.

“It must have been the water!”

“When I see the Stoll Brother’s I’m going to-” Squeal.

Travis’s face was a tint of pink from holding in his laughter. He doesn’t respond, simply waving at Percy to come and see for himself. You and Percy exchange a smile before turning back to the window.

His chance at seeing the pool of white bunnies went down the drain; the four of you met with an angry Clarisse instead. To your dismay, she didn't completely transform. Her normally brown eyes are now crimson and her mouth transformed into a whiskered snout. White bunny ears peek through her brown hair, making it look like she was wearing one of those bunny ear headbands they sell at the pharmacy around Easter time. You’d be laughing as much as the Stoll Brothers if Clarisse’s stare wasn’t fixed on you and only you. You give her a nervous smile as you step away carefully, and the moment Clarisse moves to jump out the window, the four of you bolted.

“She’s gonna kill us!” You exclaim; Travis and Connor burst into laughter, hands over their stomach as they run beside you.

“Split up! She can’t kill all of us!” Travis suggests, already making a beeline into the forest with Connor.

“Yeah, cause she’s gonna go after me!”

“We’ll weave you a nice shroud!”

“WOW, THANKS!”

The cackles of the two made you roll your eyes, and you make a mental note never to help them with a prank ever again. You grunt as Percy grabs onto your wrist, and you stumble for a second until you catch up to his pace.

“You can’t run from me forever!” Clarisse shouts, running close behind. She was right, you couldn’t avoid her forever, but you just needed her to calm down. "When I catch you, I'm tying your necks like shoelaces!"

You cringe at the threat as you and Percy burst through the swinging doors of the Arts and Craft center, weaving your way through the campers.

“Sorry!” You shout over their groans as you’re pulled into one of the hallways. Seeing the closets along the walls of the hallway gave you an idea. You bite your lip, focusing on the door leading to the outside. Reaching your hand out, you flick your fingers forward, causing the door to burst open fast enough for it to lock in place.

The moment you approach the last door in the hallway, you grab the knob. A grunt leaves Percy’s lips as you drag him in the closet with you. He loses his footing from the change of direction, spinning hastily toward you, and the both of you stagger into the closet. You yelp, the weight of Percy’s body sending your back right against the wall, and the knob comes out of grip right as it slams closed.

Percy grunts, his hands push against the wall beside your frame, promptly lifting himself away from you.“Sor-”

“Shh.” Your index finger rests your lips as you look at the door. Your shoulders tense up, afraid that Clarisse had heard the slam. Soon, Clarrise’s pounding footsteps rise like a crescendo and, to your relief, gradually fades as she runs right out of the building. A shaky sigh leaves your lips before glancing at Percy, who’s directly in front of you. You smile sheepishly, foot moving to step back only to be met with the wall.

Percy’s heart beats loud in his chest, and he was hoping that you couldn’t hear it. He tried to step back as well, but Percy’s foot was met with the shelves behind him to his dismay. He scans your face in the dim lighting for a few seconds. Suddenly, he’s reminded of how he stumbled on top of you, making him too embarrassed to look at you any longer. His focus falters to the shelves beside him, forcing himself to find interest in the tubs of paint stacked on them.

“It’s your fault,” you accuse after some silence. Shock flashes across Percy’s face,

“Huh?”

“Because you were so nosey, you blew our cover.” You reach over, and you poke his shoulder. Percy’s peers down at where you poked him as if he was offended.

“At least I ran with you. Travis and Connor left you for dead!”

“Great friends, they are, huh?” You ask, your voice laced with playful sarcasm.

Percy laughs, "I think you've taken the trophy of being the most hated by Clarisse," he jokes.

"I don't think I can one-up you. You literally fought her dad and won," you point out. "I think if we split up, she'd definitely come after me. Imagine the last thing you see when you die is Clarisse looking like… that. "

Percy laughs and you laugh, too, feeling comfortable with making light of the situation now that you were out of harm's way.

"How did that even happen!?”

"I don't know!” You sigh, bummed that Clarisse had managed to be the only person who stayed human. “Maybe she didn’t drink enough water?”

“Wow, the only person you needed to transform into a bunny just didn’t,” Percy says as he crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the shelves.

“Pretty much.”

“You have amazing luck, Y/n,” he says sarcastically.

“Whatever,” you mumble, eye faltering to the shelves beside you. Percy’s laughter fills the small space, making it hard to prevent the smile from creeping on your lips. The sound of footsteps interrupts you as you open your mouth to say something else and it brings Percy’s laughter to an end. Your shoulders are practically up to your ears as you look into Percy’s wide eyes before he mouths, “we’re dead.” If it is Clarisse, you guys are cornered, and you prepare to shadow travel even if it meant you might pass out, especially if you bring him with you.

You furrow your eyebrows as you hear two familiar voices, and soon the door opens, revealing you both to Beckendorf and Silena. There is a moment of silence, Silena blinking at the both of you, her head tilted slightly to the side as she observes the tension. Beckendorf’s right eyebrow raises, glancing between you and Percy’s face.

"Ehm, is this like a seven-minutes-in-heaven thing?" Your face gets hot, and you exchange a look with Percy, noticing the tips of his ears are bright red.

"No, we were hiding from Clarisse,” he stutters out, gaze snapping to the two, and you nod quickly,

"Because I turned her into a bunny and-"

"She didn't transform all the way-"

"It's okay. Charles and I would sneak around at first, too," Silena interrupts, her lips curled up in a satisfied smile.

"We were just talking!" You and Percy say in unison. The more defensive you got, the more suspicious you both came off. From the way Beckendorf and Silena smiled at each other, you knew they weren’t buying it.

Beckendorf shrugs, and he steps forward, reaching between the two of you to grab the box of beads from the shelf. He hums, “It’s clear we interrupted something. I just needed this. You guys can carry on,” he teases, amused at how embarrassed the both of you are.

“But- we-” you stutter, unable to finish your sentence, Beckendorf shutting the door, and Silena makes a sound between a giggle and a squeal as they walk away.

Percy clears his throat, interrupting the short silence that fell between the two of you, “Um, should we…?” His voice falters, not finishing his sentence, but you already knew what he was going to ask.

“Yeah,” you agree awkwardly, opening the closet. “Let’s go,” you mumble, stepping out with Percy close behind you.

"Where should we go now?" Percy asks, opening the door to the outside for you, and you smile, finding it sweet. You thank him shortly, and you shrug,

"I'm not sure, but I don't think Clarisse has calmed down yet…" you trail off, catching sight of a fuming Clarisse standing beside Chiron a few meters away. “Dammit.”

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

You shift on your feet, standing in Chiron’s office alongside Travis, Connor, and Percy. Clarisse’s crimson eyes are still narrowed at you as Chiron sighs, backing into his wheelchair before his backside disappears, allowing him to sit fully into it.

"I understand you guys are just having fun. However, I believe the Ares Cabin deserves a little break from the pranks, don't you think?" He asks as he looks at Connor and Travis.

You fiddle with your fingers, your shoulders slumped along with Connor and Travis’s shoulders. Travis nods, and he hums as if he considers it for a moment.

“We could prank the Apollo Cabin instead?" Connor suggests, and Chiron opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. You press your lips together in an attempt to refrain from smiling, discovering that Percy was doing the same. You became more amused at his face turning a little pink as he holds in his laughter, and you quickly look at your hands to recollect yourself.

“I’d prefer you tone down the pranking altogether,” Chiron clarifies. Connor frowns, and he nods slowly,

“Oh. Yeah, we could do that, I guess,” he mumbles, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Chiron nods, shifting his gaze to you,

“Y/n, what did you used to transform them into rabbits?” You hum softly,

“It’s a shape-shifting potion from my spellbook,” you explain.

“How long will it take for them to transform back?” You look up for a second, trying to remember your notes. While recalling the day you went through Ernest’s potions book to jot the recipe in your Book of Shadows, you realize how many forms of the potion there were depending on the transformation length. Ernest had mentioned in passing something about reading his notes carefully. It wasn’t until now did you realize that the potion you had made was not the short-term one.

“About … 24 hours,” you admit, and Connor snorts beside you.

“What!?” Clarisse snaps, her fists clenching on her side. “You mean, they’re going to be like that until tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yes, that’s what 24 hours means,” you snap back; her presence was enough to annoy you. Clarisse’s glare burns into your face, and she moves to take a step, about to charge at you.

“Clarisse, please! They will be punished accordingly,” Chiron reassures her, making her halt in her place, and she groans, her arms crossing over her chest as she waits for Chiron’s verdict.

"Well, I was going to assign you four to clean the Pegasus stables, but now that it has come to my attention that the potion lasts 24 hours, your punishment is to feed and clean up after them while they’re under the spell."

“Ew, I’d rather clean the stables,” Connor mutters, and you furrow your eyebrows,

“But wouldn’t the pegasus stables be more work?” You ask, hoping to get him to change your punishment. The last thing you wanted to do was be surrounded by a bunch of angry bunnies. Sure they were small, but you did not doubt in your mind that you were going to be attacked by them.

“They are a big group; I think it is fair that Clarisse gets assistance in taking care of them,” He says calmly, his fingers intertwined as they rest on the desk in front of him. “Feed them before you go off to dinner, accommodate their sleeping arrangements and clean up after them before morning check-ins,” he decides. You sigh softly. At this point, as long as Clarisse wasn’t on the hunt to kill you, you were okay with it.

As Chiron dismisses you, you catch the satisfied smile Clarisse was sporting, and you felt your anger swirling in your chest. You grunt as you turn on your heels, Travis and Connor behind you as Percy walks by your side. You sigh, lazily trotting off the steps of the big house,

“This...”

“Sucks,” Percy finishes your sentence, and you nod, the both of you frowning.

☆’.･.･:★:･.･.’☆

“Stop biting me!” You complain, nudging off the crowd of bunnies from your arm. Percy laughs, seated on the floor beside you as he helps you make a nest of blankets big enough for the bunnies.

“They hate you,” he comments, amused. His smirk falls flat, and he hisses as one of them gets a good bite on his finger. “Ow!” He squints at the bunny before picking it up. It was your turn to laugh, and you watch curiously as he walks to one of the dressers and plopping it on top. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re in time-out,” he grumbles.

“Wait, that’s actually really smart!” You look down at the bunnies around you. “They can’t jump from that high!” As you reach for the closest bunny, they run out of your reach, squealing, and soon they were huddled under a bed.

Percy smiles as they disperse, “well, now they’ll leave us alone,” he says as he sits beside you to continue piling the extra blankets you found. “You should have let me play that rock-paper-scissors game with them,” Percy mentions.

The two of you were stuck making a makeshift bed for the Ares campers since Travis and Connor had to round up their cabin for curfew. Well, one of them could have done it, but they insisted that it was a two-person job. You said it was unfair if they skipped out and they offered to settle who will go with an intense rock-paper-scissors game; best of three. You had accepted the challenge and lost miserably.

"I should have known there was no point in trying with their luck."

"Yeah, you walked right into that."

You side-eye him, "anyways, you would have lost.”

“How are you so sure?”

"Because, you just would have," you say shortly, and you smile as he turns to you.

“Well, considering how lucky you've been all day," he says sarcastically, and you squint at him. "I would have had a better chance,” he gloats.

“You’ve been real sassy today,” you mumble, and he laughs. “It’s fine. There’s not that much to do anyway.” Carefully, you roll the sides of the blankets into a nest shape after Percy finishes piling them. You rise on your feet, “It’d sleep there if I were a bunny. What do you think?”

“I would too. It seems comfortable,” Percy smiles as he stands up.

"Are you losers done?" Clarisse walks into the cabin with bowls of water for her siblings, and you roll your eyes as she puts them on the ground.

"Yeah, is it to their liking?" You ask with fake politeness, straining a smile. Clarisse observes the bundle of blankets as her siblings get in to try it out. She furrows her eyebrows, listening attentively to the various squeals. She had inherited most of the bunny traits, and though she didn’t transform completely, she could understand what they were saying.

“Eh, it’s good enough,” she concludes after hearing all the complaints of her siblings. “I’m sick of seeing your faces; get out.” She didn’t have to tell you twice, and you don’t waste any time as you turn on your heels. You were sick of seeing her face too.

Walking down the steps of the Ares Cabin, Percy follows beside you. A slight hum comes from his lips, and you look over,

“I was wondering when you’d come back to sword fighting,” he mentions, and you nod, recalling that you had agreed to attend classes after sparing with him a couple of weeks ago. “Your brother has been coming more often; he’s gotten a lot better.”

“That’s why my body has been aching so much,” you mutter more to yourself. For the past week, you thought you were staining your body in your sleep.

“Huh?”

“Long story,” you wave your hand, and you think about his question.

If you were completely honest, you weren’t as depressed about what had happened anymore. After you talked with Percy, you had finally come to terms with many of the thoughts that were tormenting you. However, you still stayed locked up in the Hermes Cabin because in the past week or so, you’ve gotten so much studying done. You wanted to stay in and read, and you were planning on milking your excused absences for as long as you could. But now, you considered that maybe you should return to your normal activities. Connor and Travis were becoming more worried, so were Atticus and Lou Ellen.

“I could join tomorrow,” you say hesitantly, your heart fluttering as Percy’s face brightens up. “Are you that excited to beat me up?” You joke, and Percy laughs, shaking his head.

“No! It’s just… it’s weird not seeing you around.” He admits shyly as he looks away. The cool summer breeze blows on your warm cheeks, and you swallow,

“I’ll go tomorrow,” you confirm, sounding more sure of yourself this time. Once you approach the steps of the Hermes cabin, you turn to him. “Good night, Perce.”

The sides of Percy’s eyes crinkle as he nods, “Good night,” he says as he slowly backs away. “And try to wake up on time, yeah? I’m not feeding the Ares cabin alone tomorrow,” he teases. You did have a habit of being the last person to arrive at breakfast. He must have noticed.

“Yeah, yeah. Worry about yourself, waterboy.” You smile, hearing him scoff. Opening the door to the Hermes cabin, you look back at him one more time. You take in the wide grin on his face, and he nods,

“Got it. I’ll remember that when you’re being chased by Clarisse again.” Your mouth drops open, eyes glinting at his banter.

“You better go before the harpies eat you!” You shoo him away as he laughs, then with a short salute of his two fingers, he walks off to his cabin.

masterlist taglist: @xxyrr @nct127bee @mochabreezeee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @-thatgirloverthere- @sanovr @passionswift @nanskidoodle @Slytherclaw-kitten @zhethugisa

[peachsayshi]

Chapter 11 - Friends

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Angst, Fluff

Summary: You convince Gojo to make up with your best friend and memories from the past come up. 

A/N: A wild ex-boyfriend appears! I am finally introducing the character and getting into some backstory. I got some smutty chapters coming up, which I am excited to share because I do love writing sexy Gojo X comments are always appreciated! 

- - - 

( Three Years Ago)

You cleared the plates in front of you as you made your way back to your kitchen. You packed the meal that you had taken the time to meticulously prepare, including the expensive steaks you bought this morning and the vegetables that you hand picked at the farmer’s market. As you opened the fridge to put away the items, you saw the row of vanilla cupcakes placed neatly on a pan, your shaky handwriting spread across each one that read “ Five Years ” with red hearts decorated on the extras. Suddenly, it all seemed silly how you took the time to prepare a surprise anniversary dinner for your boyfriend. You’ve both been together for so long but you still insisted on making every occasion special.

After you tidied up your dining table, you picked up the wine glass you have been nursing for the last hour and made your way over to your bedroom, where you sat on the chair next to your vanity. You removed the earrings that your boyfriend had bought you for your birthday, your favorite pair because they matched beautifully against your skin, and safely tucked them away in your jewelry box. You were disappointed that you made such a big deal out of tonight, feeling like a sentimental fool as you took a sip of your drink. Haru has been so preoccupied with work lately and the pressure of being in a highly competitive field was getting to him. Of course with the way things have been he wouldn’t remember that tonight was your anniversary dinner. You were trying to be mature about it but you couldn’t ignore that you were hurt. You glanced at your phone, reading 10:45 on the clock before finally giving up on the hope that he would show up.

You removed the dress you were wearing, a bold shade of orange that accentuated your body in all the right places - a dress that he bought you while you both went on a summer trip to Okinawa a few years ago. You changed into something a little more comfortable, throwing on a tank top and some loose lounge pants instead.

You heard your phone ping, a message popping up on the screen from Gojo.

Gojo : How did the dinner go?

You sighed to yourself, before plopping down onto your mattress. You tapped away at the keyboard, erasing each message a few times as you were unsure whether you wanted to vent or give him a brief explanation.

You : It didn’t…I think he’s still at work :(

Gojo : That sucks :\ Well, if you have any leftover cupcakes, I will gladly take them off your hands.

You: Nice try, idiot.

Gojo: I didn’t hear you say I couldn’t have any :)

When you didn’t respond to his message, Gojo followed up with another text that read:

Gojo: You okay?

You: I’m fine, I was just looking forward to tonight. I’ll get over myself. Tell me about your night, you can keep me preoccupied from my disappointment lol

Gojo merely responded with some eye emojis, a cheeky indication as to what he has been up to this evening.

You: At least one of us got some action...what’s her name?

Gojo: No idea, I was too distracted by her legs to care.  

You merely rolled your eyes at his comment.

You: It doesn’t take much to get you going, does it?

Gojo: I’m a simple guy, really…

You: …

Gojo: …

You: In WHAT universe?!

Gojo : Pshh, so mean to me all the time :(

You: With reason :)

You smiled when you sent that last text, grateful that Gojo came in at the right time with a distraction. You tried your best not to dwell on the dismal way your evening ended and instead continued to list off the many reasons why the word “simple” and “Gojo Satoru” did not go hand and hand with each other. Your conversation made time fly but that was usually the case whenever you spoke with your friend.

You were so lost in the playfully heated debate you were having, you barely heard the knock coming from your front door.

You abandoned your conversation to see who it was, surprised to find a massive bouquet of flowers greeting you on the other side.

“What…”

Haru peaked from behind the flowers, his sweet smile spreading as he looked at you with sad eyes.

“Happy anniversary!” he chirped, but you could hear the anxiousness in his tone. “ I know I’m late, I know I missed dinner…”

A deep sigh escaped him, as he slightly slumped his shoulders, extending both his hands out to you to pass the bouquet.

“I know this is a meaningless gift in comparison to whatever amazing thing you prepared, I know my efforts don’t even come close to yours, you always put so much care into everything you do. By the time I knew I was late, I was running around the city like a mad man hoping that someone, anyone, would be kind enough to open their shop for me so I would at least not come back empty handed…”

“Haru, take a breath…” you replied, hearing how quickly he was blurting out his words, something he usually did when he was nervous.

You took the bouquet from his hands, admiring the selected assortment of your favorite florals, all picked out by your boyfriend. You traced your fingers along each petal, some a little bruised and you could tell that these flowers were from  the leftovers of the day.

Haru approached you, cupping your face in his hands as he leaned down and planted a kiss on your lips.

“I’m so sorry . None of my excuses justify missing dinner tonight. I swear I am going to make it up to you…”

You tried to calm him down, running your fingers through his light brown hair and taking in every word he said as you remained focused on his hazel eyes. Your heart flutters thinking of him galavanting around the city in his disheveled work suit trying to knock on every florists’ door, a funny anecdote you will surely use against him in the future.  

“How do you plan on making it up to me?” You teased, noticing the way his brow raised at your question.

He pulled you closer into him, planting kisses along your neck before he brushed his lips against your ear to say, “I’m taking the weekend off, how does a nice trip to Hakone sound?”

“ Mmm, ideal… ” you replied, clutching the bouquet of flowers as he hugged you, “but if you keep holding me close, you’re going to ruin this lovely gift you bought me…”

“Then I’ll buy you another, and another, and another ...until I’ve given you enough flowers so that you can plant an entire garden,” he kissed you again, his fingers stroking the back of your neck as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“I’m so sorry, baby…” he repeated, his voice wavering slightly from his second apology.

“It’s okay, work comes first. I know you have been busy and probably should have planned our evening with you instead of surprising you. But you’re here now and that's what matters.”

He nodded his head, finally untangling himself from your arms, relieved that you seemed to have forgiven him.

“ I love you so much.”

“ I love you too, Haru .”

You gave him a small smile, tilting your head towards the direction of your kitchen, “It might be too late for dinner but I baked you some cupcakes if you’re up for a little snack…”

Haru removed his blazer, carefully hanging it over his elbow before undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. He held your hand, following your footsteps as you led him into the direction of your kitchen.

“ I can’t wait to try them. ”

( Present)

“ You brought me here under false pretences …” Gojo grumbled, holding himself back as you tugged on his jacket.

It’s been four months since the two of you started hooking up and weeks since he and Rina have even spoken to one another.

After Gojo confessed that she knew about your relationship, you managed to find the time to sit down with your best friend for a heart to heart. The two of you had a ritual which included locking yourselves up in a room with snacks  and drinks until you came to resolve whatever conflict you were dealing with.

“I just don’t understand why you kept this from me,” Rina explained, before taking a sip of the mixed cocktail you both made.

“ You’ve been so overprotective ever since Haru and I broke up…it’s hard for me to talk to you because you start analyzing every little thing I do. Like when I told you I wanted to stop dating for a while, you kept insisting that I was making a mistake because I was running scared…”

“I also know you’re a hopeless romantic, and a few bad dates weren’t fitting this idealised version you have of love…” Rina pressed, “You got lucky with Haru, but diving back into the game takes time and work…”

“I know I was lucky. I know it’s not usual for the first guy you meet to be so… good ,” you replied, that word tasting bitter in your mouth, “But you keep pressuring me into something I am not ready for…”

“That’s not true!”

“Rina, you would take me out on “surprise” double dates when the two of us were just supposed to just be hanging out together. Whenever I talk about Haru, you shut down and change the subject immediately. I can’t even have a night out together without you herding every single eligible male and asking me my opinion…”

Rina sighed, “it sounds way worse when you say it out loud...”

“It’s like you can’t stand that I’m just… a little broken . I let Haru become a part of who I am for five years and losing him feels like I lost a part of me, and I am struggling trying to get that person back. You want me to be okay so badly it’s stopping me from opening up to you…”

Rina inched her way closer as the two of you sat side by side. A sigh escaped her before she spoke, “I’m not good at this…I’m sorry for making you feel that way. I just can’t stand seeing you so hurt. I know that he took a piece of your happiness and I am so angry that he did. I hate that he betrayed your trust, but more so that you haven’t been able to be yourself without him…”

She squeezed your shoulder before giving you a gentle reminder, “but he never defined you. You’re attaching yourself to the love you had for him. And you will find somebody else, somebody better …”

“Maybe but I can’t see myself falling in love again…at least not anytime soon…”

Rina rested her head on your elbow, “I don’t want you to ever think you can’t speak to me…we’ve lasted way longer than all the exes that have walked in and out of our lives…”

You were happy to mend this small fracture, one of the many that has tried to hinder your friendship.

You eventually explained your little arrangement with Gojo, watching Rina’s reaction closely and trying to pull the truth of what she  exactly  said to him.

“I may have thought you were dating, like seriously dating, and told him he wasn’t good enough for you. I am glad to know that you are not. We don’t need to trade one man whore for another…”

You laughed, “Gojo has always made it clear that he has no desire to commit to anyone. I’m not worried. Besides, we can stop our arrangement anytime we are over it.”

“Sooo, when might that be?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “right now, I’m having fun and I think he is too…”

Rina hummed, you could tell she was thinking about something but whatever ran through her mind in that moment she chose to keep to herself.

Even though you and Rina smoothed things over, you realised that neither she or Gojo tried to make an effort to speak to one another. He was avoiding her at all costs while she chose to ignore  the subject entirely. You still had no idea what was said that set those two off but you were over this cold game they were playing.

“Between your inability to handle any confrontation and her stubborn attitude, you two are going to drag this on for way longer than it needs to be…” you lectured.

You paused when you arrived at her store, staring up at Gojo with pleading eyes. “I don’t like being the reason why you two aren’t speaking… please just talk to her…”

Gojo whined, “throw it on my conscience instead, that way you have no reason to feel guilty…”

You furrowed your brows before letting go of him, but a thought passed your mind which gave you an idea, “Remember that thing you brought up the other night? Your little roleplaying idea…”

Gojo arched his brows from underneath his blindfold, surprised that you were even bringing this up. “ Yes… ”

You smirked, stepping closer to him without actually touching him at all. “If you do this for me then I'll happily return the favor…”

His eyes widened, his heart racing slightly as a wave of excitement rushed through him.

You could see he was contemplating your offer, finally scoffing in defeat. “You know saying no to you was a lot easier when you weren’t bribing me with sex…” he grumbled, as he begrudgingly walked passed you.

“You did tell me once that you were a man of simple taste…”

“And I vividly remember you disagreeing with me.”

“Thank you!” You called out watching him reach the handle of the entrance door.

“Just know I am expecting you to hold up your end of the deal,” he replied before making his way inside.

***

Gojo sat at the counter, the awkward silence hung heavy in the air as Rina waited for him to break the tension. When that didn’t happen, she sighed to herself before storming to the backroom of her shop.

Gojo waited for her return, his eyes widening when she finally reappeared with something in her hands.

“ I’m sorry for how I spoke to you,” she said, bowing in his direction and handing him some treats.

“Aww, Rina-chan, how did you know kikufuku was my favorite?” Gojo questioned, his tone softening his sweet words as he held the packet between his fingers.

“I heard it through the grapevine…”

Gojo couldn’t hide his pleasured grin.

You were always so considerate of everyone, going above and beyond to make them happy and paying close attention to the things they liked the most. You must have already spoken to Rina before he came here, playing the role of matchmaker between friends.

Rina definitely noticed his response.

“Thank you,” he replied as he opened up the packet, “I know your anger was coming from a protective place. I don’t fault you for it. Besides, you and I can happily agree on one thing…”

“What’s that?”

Gojo smirked, “she’s too good for me…”

Rina swallowed hard, mainly because of how sincere that statement actually sounded.

“I care about her…”

Gojo hummed to himself, taking a bite of the sweet snack. “And you think I don’t?”

“Can I be honest?”

“ Please. ”

“I am not questioning your care for her, I am questioning what your intentions are. I won’t apologize for not trusting you.  You promised me after she broke up with Haru that you wouldn’t make a move on her but here we are now…”

“I kept my promise.”

“You found a loophole…”

“It’s been three years…she’s allowed to move on.”

“Yes she is…”

“You know, I was surprised by how angry you got at her for keeping us a secret, especially since we both know that there are plenty of things you’re hiding from her right now. Then I started thinking that it wasn’t the secret that was bothering you, you just don’t want her moving on with me…”

Rina averted her gaze, completely surprised by how easily Gojo read her.

“Like I said, I don’t trust you…”

He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the counter, “What did Haru tell you exactly?”

“Why are you asking?”

“I just want to know if you’re still adamant on convincing yourself that I am the bad guy or if you would like to know what actually happened between us…”

*** 

CHAPTER 12 - MUSE

[intimidatingpuffinstudios]

Straasa Commission!

Hello, everyone!

One of your kind fellow fans commissioned me on KoFi for some juicy Straasa smut, and they would like this commission to be shared with all of you!

It features Straasa in a pretty dommy mood, and while the writing is pretty explicit, the MC can be of any gender!

The warnings include: bondage, blindfolds, overstimulation, edging, fingering, penetration, oral, multiple orgasms, biting

Have fun XD

Lulled into a cocoon of warmth, drunk on his voice, his touch, when he started gently pressing kisses against your head, leaning down to lightly nibble on your ears, you thought nothing of it. Just gave into the steady building of arousal he was driving you into, greedy for more of his touch, for more of his attention.

You’d like to say that you know how you ended up here, but it would be a lie. There you were, minding your own business and sitting in your favorite armchair with a book when your sweet lover came to join you. His voice was soft, his touch softer, blue eyes hooded and loving.

He lured you in innocently enough. His hands slowly massaging your shoulders, his deep voice murmuring sweet nothings in your ears—what are you reading, do you need me to get you anything, how has your day been, I’ve missed you so, my heart.

His clever fingers began to roam, caressing over your shoulders, trailing over your chest and teasing the edges of your nipples over the light tunic you were wearing. After pressing soft kisses all over your face—your nose, your closed eyelids, your cheekbones, your chin—his soft lips followed the path of his hands.

Down your neck they went, suckling gently on your skin to leave evidence of his love, his hot breath fanning over the nipples his fingers got pebbled, mouth closing around one momentarily to suck headily. He didn’t linger there, however. His hands slipped under the tunic, teasing and sensitizing you as he knelt before you, his mouth playing over the edge of your pants.

A steady stream of moans was forced from you as he played you like an instrument, heat pooling in your core, your breath coming in pants as his digits plucked at your nipples, mouth teasing with light bites over your clothed thighs, licking over your pubic bone but never straying lower.

In the end, you couldn’t take the teasing anymore and yanked down your pants yourself, his dark chuckle making you throb all the harder as you bared yourself to his hungry gaze and ever hungrier mouth. The cool air created such a contrast of sensations as Straasa’s hot lips descended upon you with ravenous intent.

This is how you find yourself writhing on the armchair, hands buried in his long locs, hips pushing up against his mouth, trying to get him as close to your burning core as possible, his long fingers plucking your nipples expertly. He makes hungry sounds as he feasts on you, the vibrations traveling through every nerve and setting your blood aflame as surely as his tongue does.

Higher and higher the pleasure ratchets, your muscles tightening, your fingers turning into claws on his scalp, until the heat spills over and you helplessly fall over the precipice, a wild climax rolling over you as you release into his mouth. He laps and sucks at you, prolonging the ecstasy until you’re whining from the overstimulation.

He pulls back with a self-satisfied smirk, lips glistening, blue eyes twin pools of black, his hunger not yet sated. He gets up from his knees and slithers up to you, his tall, fit form flexing with the movement and making a new wave of lust surge through you.

He buries his hand in your locks and seals his mouth over yours, letting you taste your own desire on his lips. “I’m not done with you yet, beloved,” he whispers against your skin as he trails his mouth over your jaw and up your ear, giving the tip a little nibble.

Then, without missing a beat, his strong arms wrap around your back and under your knees before he lifts you in the air in a bridal carry, his effortless strength stealing your breath away as he swiftly moves you towards the bedroom. Who knows what delights await you there?

You find out soon enough. Your lover deposits you on the bed ever-so-gently, his hands gliding over your sensitized body. He undressed you fully with reverent hands, his open palm trailing over the curve of your hip and moving to the back to massage one of your cheeks.

Then he flips you over abruptly, cause a gasp to burst from you at the sudden manhandling. He looms over your back, his hands moving to your wrists and slowly, inescapably bringing them to lay across the small of your back. His hot breath fans over your ear as he leans down to murmur to you, his grip on you a vice.

“I’m going to tie your hands behind your back, beloved. Then, I’m going to put a blindfold over your pretty eyes as I lay kisses all over your body. I will have you completely at my mercy, and you’re going to let me, won’t you? My most precious one. You’ll be good for me.”

A broken whimper leaves your lips as you arch your back, trying to rub yourself against him just to have that contact, to feel him against you. Your generous lover obliges, pushing you down with his bulk and letting you feel more of his weight, his hips grinding lightly against your backside, showing you how hard he is for you.

Holding your wrists captive with one hand, he allows you to writhe against him, rubbing yourself over his length as he reaches under the pillows and pulls out a long length of rope. Your mouth goes instantly dry as you realize that he has planned this out, and he meant to have you at his mercy from the get go, drugging you first with pleasure and soft attention to get you mellow and obedient.

All of it leading up to this. To your hands tied behind you, your sight taken away, and your lover running covetous fingers all over you, stoking the flames of your desire to a roaring inferno. Throughout it all, his sinful voice rumbles in your ear, as heady and tangible as a caress.

“Does this feel good, my heart?” he murmurs softly, his loving tone coming in stark contrast to the wicked movements of his hand, toying with you until you’re groaning with abandon, your flesh on fire, aching to feel him inside. He coos at your torture, a low rumble of satisfaction leaving him as you squirm wildly, trying to get his fingers inside you.

He pulls his hand away and focuses on kissing and licking your neck, your ears, his teeth and tongue leaving hot marks over your shoulders, your stomach, your thighs. His touch is everywhere except where you need him most. He tugs on your hair to make you arch your back, suckling headily all over your back.

It almost hurts to have him stroke every last inch of you, the feeling of his firm caresses overwhelming you with sensation. You want more but you don’t, it’s too much but not enough. Your lover flips you on your back, your hands trapped underneath you, your head thrashing as you try to dislodge the blindfold.

“Shhhh, shh, my sweetheart. You’re okay, there’s nothing to fear. I’m here, my beauty,” he soothes you lovingly, leaning down to press heated kisses all over your face, bringing his ear close to your mouth to check whether you need to say something to him.

“Okay?” he asks in a low murmur, and you manage a hum and a broken yes, your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth. Straasa chuckles darkly as he presses a kiss to the edge of your blindfold—then, he grabs one of your ankles in each hand and spreads your legs wide.

The strain of it plays at the edge of too much, but you feel a full body blush bloom over your skin at the embarrassment of being so exposed. Your man makes a hungry noise deep in his throat, however, and you can just imagine him biting his lip, his fingers on you tightening.

“I could just eat you up,” he growls, the need in his voice impossible to miss. “And you’d let me, wouldn’t you? My treasured one. So beautiful. All mine.” The heady words make your breath catch, a fresh wave of arousal overpowering you before Straasa leans down and claims your mouth roughly.

He positions your legs around his waist, and you keep them there as he devours you with lips and tongue, going deep, licking and sucking ravenously. His hands stroke over your flanks, down your hips and across your thighs before he finally—finally­—touches you where you need him most.

He plays with your body, his steely erection pressed tightly against your thigh as he prepares your body to take his fingers deep within, his tongue thrusting into your mouth just the way you like. His crafty digits slip inside you without any difficulty, your body more than ready to accept him.

He uses all his considerable experience to drive you absolutely crazy, the tips of his fingers pressing into that spot that makes you see stars with every stroke inward, spreading them out on the backstroke. Before long, you are sobbing with overwhelmed ecstasy, your body gearing up for yet another orgasm just from his fingering.

As your body starts clenching around his thrusting digits, he picks up the pace, rutting against your thigh, sucking your breath away as your back arches. You are pushed over the edge, contracting spasmodically on the fingers forcing the climax out of you.

On and on the orgasm goes, stronger, sharper than the last one. You wail and thrash against the bedding, and your lover grips you by the hair and pins you to the bed as he kisses you throughout, not allowing you even a moment of reprieve. Once the aftershocks set in, you slump into the bed, exhausted.

Yet Straasa doesn’t pull back, doesn’t pull out his fingers. He keeps working your spent body, slower than before but no less insistently. You whine desperately, the pleasure growing teeth as your body is pushed past its normal limits. Straasa rips his mouth from you, lips latching onto your ear as he pants and reaches down to free himself from his breeches.

Within moments, the silkiness of his hard member pushes against your thigh, oh-so-hot and demanding as he rubs himself over your skin, his cruel fingers once more picking up the pace inside you. He pulls back just enough to start suckling at your nipples, his free hand grabbing your throat.

Every time you try to pull away from his relentless fingers, the grip on your throat tightens, and the vibration of his growling rumbles all over the peaked nipple in his mouth. He shows no mercy as he catapults you to the edge of yet another orgasm, your whole body trembling wildly at the pleasure-pain.

The thought to tell him to stop doesn’t even cross your mind. You’re just about to fly over the precipice of what promises to be another mind-shattering orgasm, your hips thrusting in tandem with his fingers, trying to get him deeper in, more, more, more!

Your body tightens, eyes rolling in their sockets—and the stimulation is abruptly snatched away, leaving you hollow, and empty, and throbbing. You scream at the loss, your climax subverted but your body still on fire with the need to release. You babble his name again and again, a curse, a plea, and your pitiless lover chuckles.

Without a word, he pulls away from you entirely, the sudden loss of his weight, his warmth, distressing you even further. You thrash and snarl, trying to get yourself free, to find him, bite him, claim, make him finish this—! Two muscular arms wrap around your hips before you are unceremoniously hoisted towards him.

With the speed of a striking snake, your lover covers you with his body, his member slipping inside you in one long, hard thrust that sends euphoria zinging through every nerve, his teeth embedding themselves into the meat of your shoulder. You climax. You climax so hard you can’t breathe, all self-awareness fleeing as you become a vessel for pure bliss.

Bliss that doesn’t stop. Straasa cradles you so close it’s impossible to move, his hard body undulating against yours as he hammers into you, giving it to you hard and deep, holding nothing back. You are beyond overstimulated, but you can’t stop your hips from pushing back, coupling like wild animals, trying to all but fuse with one another.

Your mouths search for one another, and soon, you are making love in every way conceivable, his weight on top of you, his arms keeping you prisoner as he ushers you through a never-ending stream of releases, until your body has no more left to give.

Consciousness fades as your body shudders and flails through the last of your delicious torture, Straasa’s seed filling you deep within as your man moans his completion against your mouth. Everything is a blur after that. You float on a cloud of pure euphoria, weightless, existing beyond time and space.

You feel careful hands clean you up, a glass of water pressed to your lips, dried fruit pushed into your mouth. You drink and chew obediently, without thought, until you are once more taken in a tender embrace and Straasa strokes your back, pets your hair, presses soft kiss to the crown of your head as you lie on top of his chest.

You fall asleep to the knowledge you are safe, loved. Oh-so-very satisfied.

Welcome to the rest of your life.

[apocxlypticangel]

sated (bucky barnes)

Prompt: Bucky helps you wind down after a tough day

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Spoilers:None

Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, mentions of unsatisfactory masturbation, hint of degradation, mention of muscle relaxer.(just shameless smut definitely not based off of real life frustrations)

Authors note: First time writing something like this, kinda nervous. Please leave your thoughts and positive feedback/criticism. Thank you, lovelies!

18+ puh-lease! thank you! :)

After about an hour of unsuccessful attempts to ease your stress, the clock now read 4:00am. Throwing your head back, you sighed. Fuck me. “Ha, that would be nice.” you snort, quickly throwing on a t-shirt and panties before leaving your room to find your way to the compound kitchen in the dark. You needed water and a muscle relaxer, anything to ease the tension in your neck and the pain in your head. It had been a stressful day... or week. Or month.

Once you reached the kitchen you flicked the light on, making quick and noisy work of getting your glass and filling it with water. You thought nothing of it, its 4am and the compound is like a damn castle. You looked over the counter into the living room, debating on whether or not to find something on TV to drown out your desperation, but quickly find a pair of sleepy blue eyes staring directly at you from the couch. Of course it was Bucky fucking Barnes. Suddenly you were very aware of your minuscule attire.

“Could you be any louder, doll? I wasn’t quite ready to go to sleep yet.” He grumbled out, raising one eyebrow at you and tracing your body with his eyes. Your surely disheveled hair, dry lips and eye bags probably weren’t helping your situation. “I could be louder actually. Maybe you should sleep in your room, Barnes?” You accidentally snapped and then sighed. “Sorry, ‘m sorry. That was rude of me.” His slightly annoyed expression quickly turned into a frown while he stared at your exhausted form. “What’s wrong, doll? Can I help with anything?” His eyes softened when you slumped down at his questions. Of course you could help. You could come fuck me. Before you realized you had even said it under your breathe Bucky’s eyes narrowed. You slapped your hand over your mouth, mentally cursing yourself for being so stupid.

“So that’s what’s wrong?” He hesitantly inquired. You were now pinching your nose between your pointer finger and thumb. “You know, maybe I’ve had a rough day and maybe all I wanted to do was fucking orgasm, but that’s not really any of your business..” You heard a faint chuckle, shuffling and then feet padding across the floor before they stopped in front of you, “It is when you ask me to fuck you, sweetheart” You could just hear the smugness dripping from his voice, but it dissipated as soon as the pet name came out.

Tiredly, you drug your eyes up to meet Bucky’s and sighed. After today, your brain was fried and you could have been defeated by Groot at this moment. “Do you want me to help you?” he offered quietly, eyes flitting away from yours for a millisecond. You stood there, looking at the boy- no, the man in front of you. It was only now you noticed he was shirtless with a pair of sweats hanging low on his hips. His abs carved perfectly along with the v-shape that disappeared into his pants. This man was built like a fucking Greek God.

“I-... I don’t-“ You stumbled over your words, cheeks flushing. “All you have to do is ask, doll. Tell me what you need from me.” His reply came soft with a warm smile creeping onto his face.

“I-um... yes, uh, please. I need it so bad” Your words came out jumbled as you tugged the hem of your t-shirt.

Bucky took your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, tilting your head to look him in the eyes. He let his lips graze yours for a few seconds before he connected his lips with yours softly. It wasn’t a needy kiss, he was feeling you out and you had nothing left to do but just take what his soft mouth gave you.

He walked you back and pressed you up against the kitchen counter, his hands made their way down your sides to your thighs and he caressed them. He slowly removed his lips from yours to kiss down your chin, around and down your jaw line to your neck where he nipped at the flesh just below your ear, his tongue quickly slipping out and licking over the place he surely left a mark.

You let out a sigh at the feel of his contrasting hands. His right is soft and warm while his left is firm and cold, the feel of his teeth and tongue on your neck adding to the sensitivity of your skin and the heat pooling between your thighs. “Bucky, bedroom please. We can’t do it out here.” He let out a small laugh against your neck and gripped your thighs to pull them up around his waist. Your breath hitched in your throat as you quickly wrapped your arms around his neck. He walked to the elevator to take it up to his floor.

When he reached his room he hurriedly opened the door, moving you into just one of his arms, making your core rub against his covered cock. You let out a quiet moan and circled your hips against him; trying to gain any friction you could. He let out a deep hum and laid you on your back on his bed. He caught your lips in a hungry kiss and grabbed a fist of your hair to pull your head back. He licked up the column of your neck before grabbing the bottom of your shirt and pulling it over and off your body, discarding it to the floor somewhere.

Your cheeks flushed when he pulled his head back to stare at your breasts for a split second before he dipped his head and licked one of your nipples. You let out a sharp breath when he took your sensitive bud into his mouth and brought his cold, metal hand up to toy with your other nipple. He followed his first sharp suck with a light bite to your nipple, causing you to arch your back and let out a soft moan. You tangled your fingers into his dark hair and pulled ever so lightly, forcing a grunt from his mouth.

He flashed his eyes up to your face, a devilish smile dancing on his lips before he began kissing down your torso, down your abdomen to reach just above the top of your panties. He licked from the band of your soaked panties to your bellybutton before placing a wet kiss to your clothed clit. You bucked your hips against his mouth involuntarily. He pulled down your panties and tossed them beside your now exposed form.

You whimpered at the vulnerability of your state. Completely naked and soaked for the super soldier. He tugged your legs apart to take in the sight of your dripping cunt and smiled. “Look at you. Absolutely fucking soaked for me, sweetheart.” He placed small kisses to your inner thighs but never quite made it to where you needed him the most. “Bucky, please. Please just do something, anything.” You pleaded as you locked eyes with him. You could barely see the blue around his dark pupils that were blown with lust.

He brought two fingers up and spread your lips to lick up your slit to your bundle of nerves, drawing a wanton moan from your open mouth. He winked at you and lapped at your wet cunt. He gripped your legs so you couldn’t close them whilst he slid his tongue into your tight hole, thrusting it in and out before coming up to suck your clit into his mouth.

“Fuck, Bucky. Don’t stop” You choked out, gripping his sheets so hard your knuckles turned white. You could feel the coil in your stomach wrapping itself tighter and tighter. You were almost there. “Almost-almost, Bucky, please!” At that he let go of one of your thighs and slipped a finger into your tight core. You let out a breathy moan and ground your hips into his finger, needing more. He caught on and slipped a second finger in, thrusting and curling them until he found your g-spot; hitting it the first time and you couldn’t help but moan rather loudly, which prompted Bucky to find your panties with his other hand and shove them into your mouth.

You bit down on the fabric inside of your mouth as the thrusted his finger one last time and gave your clit a not so soft bite, tearing your orgasm from you. He watched your face intently, how your eyes shut and brows furrowed. He felt you clamp down around his fingers and go stiff in his hold as he finger fucked you right through your perfect, much needed orgasm.

Once he was sure you had ridden your high completely, he removed his fingers and sucked them clean while moving back up your body. You tore your panties from your mouth and grabbed the back of his neck to bring him down for a sloppy kiss, moaning at the taste of yourself. He pulled away and looked at you through hooded eyes, “Think you can cum one more time, princess? Wanna cum on my fat cock, huh?” He cooed and you could only moan out in response, grabbing the top of his sweats and pulling them down, urging Bucky to take them completely off.

He was sat on his knees in front of you when you finally got a look at his cock. It was long and thick and your mouth suddenly went dry at the sight of him. You wanted it in you so bad that you grabbed his shoulders and drug him down onto your body, locking your legs around his waist. He chuckled, “Needy little thing aren’t you? So desperate to take my cock”

You didn’t even have time to think about answering him before he slid his red, leaking tip through your wet folds before pressing into your core inch by inch. You clenched around his length as he slid into you and moaned. He was only a little ways in but he filled you so perfectly. The stretch was perfect, the way it stung and split you open felt amazing.

He pushed himself the rest of the way in, burying himself to the hilt he left out a moan. “Fuck your little pussy takes me so well, sweetheart. So wet and tight just for me.”

You laced your fingers through his hair as he dragged himself out slowly, leaving just his head inside and then pushing himself back in at an agonizing speed. “Buck, please. No teasing. Need to be fucked, please.” You whined out and pressed the heels of your feet into his ass, urging him to move. He buried his face into your neck and complied, beginning to snap his hips up into yours at a vigorous pace.

Moans fell from your mouth as he fucked into you. Your eyes were screwed shut, trying to meet his thrusts with your hips but ultimately failing. He grabbed one of your ankles and slipped your leg up and over his shoulder, angling himself perfectly to hit your sweet spot.

You cried out, his name falling from your lips as you came closer and closer to the edge, the coil from only moments ago wound tighter than before. Bucky was grunting and panting, “Won’t you play with your pretty clit, baby? Gonna cum soon, but can’t until you do again.” You immediately obeyed, sliding your hand between the two of you and rubbing tight and fast circles onto your throbbing clit.

Bucky’s pace became frantic and impossibly harder as your pussy fluttered around him. He thrusted up into you and hit your g-spot roughly, snapping the coil in your belly.

“Shit, Bucky! Oh fuckfuckfuck yes!” He fucked you through your second orgasm, hips stuttering and grunts of your name falling from his lips. One last hard thrust and he was stilling deep inside you, spilling his seed. You moaned at the feeling, clenching and milking him for all he was worth.

Both of you stayed in that position, Bucky’s limp body on top of yours. He picked his head up and placed a kiss to your cheek before pulling out slowly and getting off the bed. You watched him walk into his connected bathroom and heard running water. He returned with a wash cloth and cleaned you up, throwing it back into his bathroom and collapsing beside you.

“Feeling better now that I fucked your brains out, Doll?” He turned his head and smiled at you.

“Didn’t know old men like you knew how to do that kinda stuff to a woman.” You quipped and turned on your side, laying your head on his chest and smoothing your palm against his toned abdomen.

He rolled his eyes playfully and wrapped his arms around you. “Go to sleep, before I put something else in that mouth besides your panties.”

You hummed thoughtfully, but decided you were too tired to argue. “Okay, thank you. Goodnight.”

“Anytime, dollface. Goodnight”

[gandrewheadcannons]

I wanted to share some writing I had done earlier this summer with you all! If you like it let me know if I should continue? It’s meant to be a story focusing around the beginning of their time in Washington and into the podcast. I’ve left it at a really weird stop but that’s all I had so far.

Title: Undetermined

Pairing: Garrett Watts/Andrew Siwicki

Tags: Mention of prescription medicine, mention of Jeffree/Shane/Ryland, unfinished

Evening is dimly creeping through the half-opened windowpane casting a glow across the built-in table connected to the cramped inner wall of Andrew's microscopic kitchenette. His studio apartment in LA sat cramped in-between Hollywood and Calabasas, a mediocre waypoint for his work for the last few years. He clicks the viewfinder and focuses on the bright oranges and yellows that dance teasingly across the glittering tabletop; catching flicks of sliver and reflecting them back to the lens. A mug of dark roast with just an edge of too much cream is left forgotten in the corner of the frame. It feels cinematic and lonely all at once. The cafe style booth he sits in causes his back to ache, the rest of the kitchen a sterile and unforgiving white, but he misses capturing the day to day beauty the world had to offer. He imagines the reel being played back with a layered sound of twinkling windchimes, quiet laughter and a piano reverb with cuts of the morning sunrise on a hike and steam off the top of a ceramic mug. A familiar face with flecks of blonde in the beard, strong jawed and a roguish smile weaving in and out of the frame, turning back to laugh at something the cameraman said.

“-with a mandate like this.” Garrett is brushing his teeth through Facetime. Andrew catches the corner of his bamboo toothbrush flashing in and out of the lens. He must have laid his Iphone flat on the countertop because when Andrew really looks he can see the bottom of the mirror and a bunch of bright light.

“I know. It sucks. Couldn’t get honey the other day, man. Fucking honey. It’s not like the bees are going anywhere.” He laughs but it doesn’t feel funny. The minimal supply he had was dwindling thin. He was beginning to ration his meals and he wasn’t sure how much toilet paper was left under the bathroom sink. It was all very apocalyptic without any of the zombies or scientists swooping in with immediate remedies.

“Ah dude.” Garrett spits and there’s a tapping sound like he’s hitting his toothbrush on the edge of the porcelain sink before he fully pops into frame. He looks relaxed, sandy hair flopped to one side and beard properly scruffy though they’d only been locked down about a week and a half now. “I know. I can’t handle it anymore. I miss people.” Andrew hums at that. He doesn’t really. He misses the occasional gathering, sure, but he hadn’t quite placed his anxiety surrounding the idea of seeing others since they’d released the Jeffree series. "What was it that bothered you most about taking part in this?" His therapist had asked him. "I missed the fun," he’d answered. "What was the fun?" She’d pressed deeper. "Garrett," Andrew had been quick to reply. "And like. Everyone else too." He'd added when she hadn't said anything. "I miss it not feeling work." She had let him talk about that instead.

"Some people." He tacks on to Garrett who hums easily. He doesn’t think he misses many of the people he’d spent most of 2019 with, his life a mixed cocktail of Ambien, Adderall and Lexapro without any feelings of relaxation manifesting. His psychiatrist had discouraged upping his doses anymore and by early January she began urging him to begin seeking new opportunities to “work on his environment”. He hadn’t quite figured out the avenue to take to do just that.

"Well, some people." Garrett agrees and he's already back out on his couch. "I don't know how many more times I can watch Winter Soldier before I freak out." Garrett sighs. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Same as you and every other person." He turns his camera off. He needs the break from the screen.

"I miss you." Garrett is easy like that. He isn't ashamed to tell people how he feels in every moment. It was something to be admired and yet Andrew just felt envy at it. When Garrett had begun to slip away from him, melting like honeydew sweet and sour into a depth of a place where Andrew couldn't quite find him, he'd only managed to grab him back out by Garrett's honesty. Doesn't know if they'd be having this conversation if Garrett hadn't used that honesty like an anchor and letting Andrew catch him last minute with it.

"I can come over." Andrew offers. He hates being confined in these walls anyways. It was hollow and dark. The email from Shane still sat open on his Mac across the room on his bed. Thinking of extending the break, can't really decide. Want to get quarantined together? I have a few video ideas we could maybe mess around with or just film some day to day footage until creativity strikes us it reads. His skin itches for the company but the image of their guest room makes him uneasy. Doesn't know if he could withstand being there with very little to fill his hands with, editing complete and no real ideas on the table for the time being.

"I can come to you." Garrett offers like he was inconveniencing Andrew who had offered anyways.

"If you touch your car right now I am going to freak out Garrett Watts." Andrew admonishes. "The second they open up the garages and mechanics again I'm making you take that thing there, burn it and we get a new one." He's opening a duffle now and throwing in his travel toiletries and a few pairs of underwear.

"Oh come on Andrew it's not so bad." Garrett laughs as if Andrew wasn't still reeling from the aftermath phone call of Garrett nearly wrecking on the 101 barreling top speeds until he reached a secluded patch of grass to slow his Pirus down onto. By the time Andrew heard the story Garrett was okay; Michael had gone to pick him up and Garrett was sending pictures of little Star Wars figurines that Michael kept mounted on his dashboard. His heart didn’t calm until he had managed to get his hands on Garrett in person though, sneaking out for an afternoon to grab some coffee with Garrett before heading back to Shane’s to finish editing. His shins still feel heavy with the weight of Garrett’s calf as he’d pressed their knees together until the table while they’d talked – the weight reminding him of how alive and okay Garrett really was.

"Oh yeah a car that dies out randomly is really great." Andrew throws in a box of protein bars and a Gatorade into his bag. He hesitates before grabbing a stitched bear made from gray yarn, green buttons for eyes luring him in. "I'll be over soon." He doesn't know how well the conversation will hold up over Facetime as he's moving.

"Okay cool Andrew." Garrett's eyes are soft. "See you soon. My dad is actually calling."

"Tell him I said hi. See you soon." He so easily could tack on endearment, babe at the tip of his tongue burning hot. Garrett's ending the call before Andrew even has the chance.

**

The half opened can of frosting is across from, the only lights on are the ones twinkling from some intricate set up Garrett had on a shelf. Garrett’s on the third loop of the home screen on Prime, humming thoughtfully whenever he pauses on a summary to read but then continuing to scroll before picking one. He’s slumped down low, long legs kicked out on the coffee table while Andrew is curled up in a ball against his side. Once, Caleb had pointed out that if people didn’t know them they’d get the impression that they were dating. Garrett and Andrew had awkwardly laughed at that comment, tinged with humiliation at how their relationship was being interpreted. They tried to be better then, not letting themselves fall so in sync when other people were around.

Andrew loved it like this though, when it was just him and Garrett, so he could press his cheek into Garrett’s bicep and not have to question why it felt so right. In his left hand his phone illuminated with another message from Shane. Opening it he read a message about how much they all missed him and wanted him there during this time. Apparently Ryland was looking for someone to help film a video he had planned. He quickly shut the screen off and pulled back from Garrett some, his stomach in a sudden tangle of knots.

“Good?” Garrett asked him looking down. His crew neck was for Spokane and looked a little like the Taco Bell logo from when they were younger. He’d paired it with a pair of sweat shorts for the night as they were both supposed to be going to bed soon. Andrew picked at his own Adidas track pants, imagining a loose thread to busy his hands.

“You ever just. Feel like you gotta get out?” He tilts his head to the side and watches Garrett pause what he’s doing with his Playstation controller and set it carefully on his coffee table.

“In what way?” He asks thoughtfully, turning so his chest was open to Andrew. Their knees bumped and Andrew felt like a little boy when he wished he could crawl and hide in the empty space of Garrett’s lap.

“Like okay. Say you just really loved what you used to do. You basically achieved your dream job. You have all these amazing people, you like your boss, things are going really great and you’re making a lot of money.”

“You buy yourself a really good vacuum.” Garrett plays along teasingly causing them both to laugh.

“You get yourself those stackable containers for your meal prepped lunches.” Andrew plays back. “But then…” He runs his tongue inside his teeth then outside methodically. He searches his brain to try to figure out what to say to Garrett to

“Then?” He drums his fingers on Andrew’s knees to get him back to the present.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

they both know

prompt: “hey, wait, you’re still bleeding!” from this post by @whumpster-dumpster !! (i am in love w this prompt btw, it is just. so good.)

this one is a little bit different...i’ve done one other fic like this before (funnily enough for last year’s wij) but basically there aren’t really characters. you can imagine the people as whatever characters you like, or imagine them as like, random people idk (that’s what i did lol). anyway this was really fun to do, i liked doing sth a bit different! i hope you like it!

“Hey, wait, you’re still bleeding!”

“Huh?” He turns around in the doorway, and for a second the light from the hallway illuminates him in a way that might be almost beautiful were it not for the rapidly-growing bloodstain on his shirt and the freshly cleaned (but still very much present) cuts on his face. 

“Look down. You’re bleeding.”

He looks down, then slowly looks back up, surprise evident on his face.

“What happened?” 

“I…I don’t know.”

She guides him back to the barstool that he’d so recently vacated. He sits down heavily, resting his chin on his hands, elbows propped against the cool granite of the counter. 

“You really don’t know how you ended up bleeding through your shirt?”

He shakes his head. “Honestly, I didn’t even register it until you told me I was still bleeding. I thought I’d gotten away with a couple scrapes and bruises.”

She carefully pulls his shirt up and away from the spot of blood, and he does his best to pull his arms through the sleeves. His injury protests, but he ignores it. The shirt comes all the way off, and he sucks in a breath, and so does she. 

There’s a small piece of metal embedded in his stomach, where the skin is scraped and dirty. 

“Do you remember your shirt being off at any point during the fight?”

He thinks hard, then shakes his head. 

A second later, he remembers. “Wait. I fell, at one point. I remember my shirt getting pushed up, my hands getting scraped. It hurt, but I was a little too busy trying to avoid getting the shit kicked out of me to pay much attention.” He laughs slightly. “Lot of good that did me. Got the shit kicked out of me and ended up with…whatever the hell it is that’s stabbing me.”

“It just looks like scrap metal,” she says. “It seems reasonable that it could’ve been on the ground when you fell.”

He nods. 

“I assume you don’t want to go to the hospital for this, either?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll be fine. I trust your medical skills.”

She sighs. “I appreciate the compliment,” she says drily. “When was your last tetanus shot?”

“Last year. I had an…altercation with a piece of rebar.”

“Of course you did. This probably isn’t gonna be pleasant, you know.”

“I know. I’ll be fine.”

She doesn’t argue - they both know he’s telling the truth. He’s had far worse. She’s patched up far worse. 

It’s a fairly simple process. It starts out the same way that their evening together had started - with cleaning the wounds. She snaps on a fresh pair of rubber gloves, then runs a cold antiseptic wipe across the raw, red skin of his stomach, cleaning out the small scrapes and the area around the piece of metal. He barely even flinches, used to the feeling by this point. 

The next step is to remove the metal. 

“This doesn’t look like it’s in there very deep, but it’ll probably start bleeding more heavily when I take it out. I’m gonna give you a paper towel, and as soon as I get the metal out, I need you to press the towel into the cut as hard as you can, okay?”

She grabs a few sheets of paper towel and passes them over. He grabs them, crumpling them into a ball and holding them at the ready. 

“One, two, three,” she says, half under her breath, and then grabs hold of the piece of metal and pulls, quick and smooth. 

He yelps, slightly undignified. He recovers quickly enough, pressing the paper towels against his skin as, sure enough, blood starts pouring more rapidly out of the wound. 

He holds the towels there until they’re almost soaked through. 

“Let me see now,” she instructs, and he carefully pries the soggy towels away from his body. She peers at the wound, looks carefully at the piece of metal, shiny with blood. It’s two inches long, at most, and the wound itself is no more than an inch deep. Not too bad, she figures. 

“I can work with this.”

“What does that mean?” he asks, though they both know already. 

“I’ll stitch it up. Won’t take long. Won’t feel very good, either.”

“It’s fine.”

Wordlessly, she reaches into a cabinet beneath the counter and pulls out a bottle of vodka. She passes it to him, and he sets the bloody paper towels down on the counter to grab it. 

“God, that’s awful,” he coughs, setting the bottle onto the counter with a thud. 

“It’s better than getting stitched up completely sober,” she argues. He grimaces at her, then takes another sip. 

“You ready?”

“Sure.” He looks down at her hands, watching as she dabs the bloody wound with a damp paper towel to clean it out. 

A second later, the paper towel she is holding has been replaced with a threaded needle, and they both take a deep breath before she begins. He keeps his eyes firmly trained on her hands. 

“You sure you wanna watch?”

He doesn’t reply. He kind of feels like he can’t look away, even if he wanted to. He watches the needle, watches the movement of her hands, even and precise and steady. 

The needle pierces his skin. He watches as it pokes in and then out, leaving a trail of thread behind. It doesn’t actually hurt that much, at any rate not as much as he’d expected, but the act of watching his skin get sewn back together makes him feel sort of dizzy. Still, he can’t tear his eyes away. He watches as the needle and thread makes its way up the fairly short length of the wound, and is thankful that it’s not larger. He thinks he might pass out if this goes on for much longer, but luckily it seems like she’s almost done. 

She ties off the thread, cuts the rest away, sets the needle aside. He’s left with nothing but the stitches in his skin. He lets out a harsh, shaky exhale, blinks hard to try and curb the dizziness, and then slumps forward. 

She catches him, putting two firm hands on his shoulders and pushing him upright. “You good?”

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes for a few seconds. When he opens them back up, the dizziness has faded a bit, and her concerned face is sharply in focus. 

“I’m good,” he says. 

“Sure,” she agrees, carefully pressing a gauze bandage over the fresh stitches. “You’re good. You gonna walk home like this?”

He raises a shoulder in an approximation of a shrug. He’s capable of it, he knows. But it’s dark and it’s late and he did just get beaten up in a back alley, then stitched up in his friend’s kitchen, so - 

“Yeah, no, that wasn’t really a question. You’re not walking home like this.”

He entertains the idea of telling her that she can’t tell him what to do, except that they both know full well that she can, and she will. 

“You’re staying. I need to keep an eye on my patient, anyway.”

“I can take care of myself, you know.”

“Alright, Mr. Observant. And tell me again, which one of us was it that realized you were seriously bleeding?”

They share a smile they’ve shared a hundred times before, and he knows he’s beat (though, if he’s being honest, he’d known that since he first turned up here). 

“Okay, I give up. I release myself into your hospitality.”

She grins, wide and bright - victory. “I’ll grab some blankets. You up for a movie?”

He always is.

thanks for reading this even though it’s not for any fandom lol. i had so much fun writing it and i hope you liked it!!!!

[choiwrites]

pjm | high school sweethearts (m.)

Words: 18.4k Genres: high school!au, f2l, never been kissed!au, a lil bit of 2000's movie angst :) Warnings: defloration, fingering, dry humping, a smidge of dirty talk, oral (f&m), teenagers being hormonal what else would this be :( Rating: 18+ Playlist:  ♡

Summary: You are not one to believe in high school romance nor any kind of romance at all. Your world is turned upside down when you had to write about falling in love in high school. Having no experience, good thing your best pal Jimin came to the rescue. He's about to show you what falling in love is like through his broken perspective after his girlfriend just broke up with him.

The school cafeteria stretches before you. Chattering getting louder every second as more students join in the next table, your eyes peered at Yoongi, the President of the School Publication, who had just told you the feature's deadline. You were killing him inside your mind, butchering his insides, God you just want him to get kicked out of the school.

Exams are in a week and you did little to no effort in prepping for it, it was driving you nuts. But the cafeteria's coleslaw drove you even madder, its stupid taste lingered in your mouth even after you just took another chug of your second box of milk. You made a note to yourself to never get coleslaw ever again, no matter how convincing Jungkook's smiles were, though there's no denying that the lunch lady's son has somehow crept into your heart.

"Candid!" Jimin appears behind you, his camera flashing your eyes when he takes a candid shot of your face. You slap him on the shoulder before he could sit down beside you. "Do you have a crush on Yoongi?" His eyes scan the unfinished coleslaw on your table, his smile turning into pure disgust.

"What? No! He's just ruining my week," you reply after releasing a huff.

You tear your gaze away from Yoongi before his laughing figure would notice. Jimin giggles at the picture he had just taken. If Jimin didn't have a hundred pictures of your unreserved face, maybe you would have cared. Still, your eyes burned at the sight of your face in his camera.

"What made you sit with me today?" you ask, your eyes not traveling to his face but rather focused on everywhere else except for him and Yoongi.

His breathing was a little ragged, but enough to make your ears notice. He was breathing through his mouth, you could tell. You were that observant of Jimin. Your hand picks up the tiny box of milk, taking another sip from it while you wait for Jimin's answer. He was busy on his camera, then you heard a sniff.

"Seulgi broke up with me," he sniffs again, then he laughs in a croaky way. His voice was usually high, like an optimistic kind. Hearing Jimin's voice always sent you a jolt of happiness, hearing his voice crack made your knees wobble.

You were positive they'll get back together again like the other high school couples, it's their routine that you've gotten used to. It would only take a week before you see them smooching in the locker room again, or maybe eating each other's face in front of you. You wait for an explanation before you could ask, giving him silence so he could proceed with his sentiment.

"She was tired of me. She couldn't see a future with me," he began and forced a small snicker, one you could immediately tell was fake. "I was going to follow her to college. Good thing, I haven't."

You admit, your heart recedes at his tone. Though you've never received such words yourself, being told you're tiring would sure tear anyone's heart apart. And wanting a future with someone with no reciprocation sounded mean. You couldn't search for the right words on how hurt he looked beneath those eyes, you weren't one to have experience in any of the pain he's going through.

You place a hand on his back, a shaky motion vibrated against your palm. You could feel how hard he was trying to suppress all the tears inside him, he was afraid you would laugh. You pat him softly on his cotton jacket, scared to make the situation worse by saying the wrong thing. He took your silence as comfort, needing no words from you to make him feel better. He sniffs again.

"What was she tired of?" Jimin knew that asking you wouldn't bring actual answers, he needed those from Seulgi. But it was you beside him, not Seulgi, so he confides. "It can't be my dick," he laughs, which you returned.

"How sure are you?" Your forehead wrinkled as your brows knot together, a grin forming on your lips.

"A hundred percent, solid. It's probably my snoring, isn't it?" His stare leaves the camera, which had shut down moments ago, taking the courage to look at you who never looked more concern through the small smile you were showing.

"I've never heard you snore, but yeah. I guess so. I don't really follow the relationship you both have."

"Had," he corrects, and then released a nasal huff.

Through his burning face, he was still perfect in every way. His hair lays flat on top of his head, parted in the middle. His bottom lip bitten. His nose scrunches trying to sniff, then he brings the back of his hand to cover the lower part of his face. Your lips curved when he laughed at himself.

"Can we go? I just... I feel like she's on the way here and I don't really want to see her laugh with her friends," he said, nose blocking him from speaking properly.

Seulgi stands by the entrance, searching the cafeteria and when she spots Jimin, she pulls her friend to the counter. This didn't go unnoticed by Jimin, he pulls you harshly out of panic. You've never seen him so frustrated, it was funny.

"Dude, Jimin, what the fuck?" Your bag was open and as he tried to pull you away, your notes dropped on the floor, revealing all your drafts for the feature.

Jimin squats on the floor, examining your written works. The panic passes onto you, his face turned into a frown.

What could he have read?

"Jesus christ y/n, who broke your heart? These are so pessimistic," his hand ravishes on the crumpled paper, reading essays of a hundred words. You somehow regret not throwing those in the trash the moment you finished them.

"Can I just-" He stops your hand from reaching the papers, stretching his other hand away from you.

"This is not what 'falling in love in high school' is like! You're not following the topic given!" he yells, but a glint of happiness spreads across his face. He finds some sort of amusement from your reaction.

"You don't get it, Jimin. You only have to take pictures of couples, I have to write about them! It's not as easy as you think!"

Jimin was also a part of the school publication. He was mostly praised for his average photos, you've told him many times how they're not at all impressive. But he was a popular and good-looking student, everything he does will be adored by many. As opposed to you, who have only written one successful work throughout four years of being in the same page with him. High school will always be that way.

"Whatever. Your works won't make it to the paper if you keep them this way," he says with a stronger voice, a restrain on his throat from earlier brushing away.

"Can you just give them to me?" You reach for his other hand, but his hand on your shoulder kept you away from him. His strong scent burns your nose, but you didn't care even if you felt how hot his skin was. You only pushed yourself further, desperate to get the drafts.

"No, no," he clicks his tongue, "gotta tell me who's this ex of yours first." He waved his eyebrows and your shoulders slumped.

"I don't have an ex-boyfriend. There, you happy?" you declare under a small tone.

He inches his face to yours, and you pulled away when you felt him breathe against your lips. "No shit, y/n. Why the pessimism then?" He was trying to get a rise out of you and you are almost giving in. He reads them again but this time you give up, you couldn't stand his perfume any longer.

"I hate highschool couples. They act like everything is about relationships, even going to college together. Ew." You raise a brow, cocking your head towards him as you cross your arms on your chest.

"Fuck off. You just don't get it." He folds the torn pieces of paper, placing them in his pockets.

"Hey, give that to me!" You try to reach again, but he got a hold of your hand and you soften.

"They suck. I don't want Yoongi to read them, he'll probably judge the shit out of you."

"Why do you care? I take criticism."

"Yeah, and you're gonna get it from me," he says without a lot of consideration. So much of smiling caused his face to lose its puffiness, eyes losing a little bit of their shine.

"I don't need a photographer judging my work. Give them back!"

"Shush." He waves his index finger in front of your face.

You slap his hand away, thinning your lips and giving in to whatever Jimin was trying to do. "What are you gonna do with them?"

"I'll change them," he tilts his head before grabbing you to exit the cafeteria, the hallway rolls before the both of your feet and Jimin only puts his arm around you, "because that's what good friends do."

"For your entertainment, fine. Change it however you'd like, hell you can even put Seulgi's name as the title, I don't care. My idea of high school romance will remain the same!"

"I love Seulgi, alright? It's true, I felt it. Just because we are young doesn't mean our emotions are invalid."

"That's not my point, Jimin. All I'm trying to say is there's not a single record of relationships making it out of high school. It ends in high school and that's it."

His grip on your shoulder loosens and he turns to face you, your eyes remained on the walk ahead. Again, the smell of his perfume irritates your nose, you breathe shortly to avoid it.

"My parents met in highschool, you know that," he argues.

"But their relationship didn't start in highschool, you also know that."

He releases a breath of defeat, but he continued with his debate. "Regardless, high school romance is real. You've never had a crush before?"

"I've had crushes, Jimin. But they're crushes, nothing ever led to 'love'," your tone curved by the end of your sentence, hating the word.

Jimin was aware of your crushing habit, and he knew about each of them. Jungkook from the cafeteria, Seokjin who used to be a senior in the school, and Mr. Kim Namjoon of Biology class. He never missed a single one, but there's one you've never admitted to Jimin. Which was your tiny feelings for him. But you find no use of telling him since it only lasted a month, then he became this jackass friend of yours and you never wished for it change. He has been an amazing friend and everything was platonic between the both of you, he was the only boy you could look in the eyes without feeling insecure.

"Infatuation is the start of everything, dumbass."

"I don't want any of it," you reply and Jimin takes a hold of your arm when you tried to enter your class.

"Wait, I have a proposal." Your hand holds a strap of your bag, slouching in front of him. You turn to him again, brows rising to let him continue.

He takes a few moments before talking again, his adam's apple bobbed slowly as he takes the courage. Your eyes narrowed at his figure, trying to analyze his thoughts faster than he could. Jimin can get unpredictable sometimes, a kind you can't read. It's unfair he could read you like a book, a book he knows all too well.

"What if I make you fall in love?"

Your eyes widen, pulling away from him harshly, just enough to make him feel your rejection to his proposal. He can't be serious, and he can't be this horrible to use you as a rebound for Seulgi.

You as a pawn? No way!

You're not letting Jimin make your last year of high school dramatic with Seulgi's friends judging you by the hallway when you walk past them with Jimin's hand in your back pocket. No, that's not gonna happen.

"Are you insane? What's wro-"

"No, not with me. I phrased it wrong. I meant what if I make you feel like falling in love. You can't just keep denying emotions all through out highschool."

You weren't denying anything. You have a belief, a belief that no relationship in highschool ever lasts.

"Why do you want to prove me wrong so bad? Can't you just let me be?" your tone loomed over him. Anger took over your voice when you didn't mean it, so you looked at him in a stern way to let him know you weren't mad, just confused.

"I want you to know that I am in love with Seulgi. And your opinion is wrong, people fall in love during highschool."

"Jimin, I get it! You're in love with Seulgi, I don't care. Blah blah blah, love is relevant for you. Now get over it."

Both of you were standing before the door to Biology class, it looked stupid. Your classmates are starting to look at you funny, gossiping before entering the room behind you. You take your attention away from it and focused on Jimin's argument and hand which was still wrapped around your arm, he doesn't seem to notice how sweaty his palms are.

"No, you obviously don't get it. You're taking my emotion as a joke."

Why was he getting so worked up with my statement?

"Fine," you surrender. "What is falling in love like?"

Mr. Kim — or Mr. Joonie as you like to call him, appears behind Jimin, his height hovering over your friend. He nods at you and says "You have five minutes" before entering the almost rowdy class. You catch your favorite musky smell when he made his way behind you.

"I'll come by" was Jimin's last response before he vanished from the empty hallway, your mind not comprehending his reply.

Come by what? Where?

Whatever it was, you tried to pushed it to the back of your mind and failed. Biology was interesting, Mr. Joonie was wearing your favorite black and blue striped tie paired with his thin white long sleeves shirt. He discussed further about DNA base pairs which you fell behind on when your brain decides to bring back Jimin's last words.

You tried to bring your ears on Mr. Joonie's lesson, but your mind could only pull away. Screw Jimin for ruining this class for you, distraction was the last thing you needed this month and here comes your infatuated friend to fuck everything up. But it wasn't his idea that made you think, it's your reaction to his idea that caught your attention. You were too defensive earlier, but you guessed it's the right thing to do. However, you can only overthink.

Jimin's proposal was garbage, in what way would it possibly help you?

Falling in love? That's overrated, your mind is set for your one and only goal and that is graduating from this hellhole of hormonal teenagers seeking for love.

Jeez, you sounded like an old lady, but you know it's the truth. Falling in love leads to nothing but a disaster and worst case scenario: baby, which is not part of the high school bucket list you've made for your graduating year. Thanks to your hormones, they weren't as wild as the other teens.

Biology was quicker than you expected. Well, you spent the whole time looking out the window and wondering what the fuck Jimin meant. Lucky for you, Mr. Joonie never paid attention to you to even notice you weren't paying attention to him.

When you finished your Spanish class — your last period, you never caught Jimin in the hallway. Which you wouldn't have expected from what he had said, but you were only left disappointed. You guessed he went after Seulgi to give her the talk. You head home quickly, preparing to study the whole night. You cringe at the idea, already missing the feeling of the living room's sofa while binge-watching 80's sci-fi movies.

He probably forgot already, you tell yourself while flipping through the dull pages of your notebook. A tinge of small dismay tugs at your stomach, you shouldn't have expected too much from a friend like him. You left the thought as you push the first paragraph of your reviewer into your mind, it was ineffective. You only longed for something else, maybe it was food.

You leave your cold room, tiptoeing towards the kitchen downstairs. Your tummy jumps when you saw the cookie jar full. A neon green sticky note beside it reads "clean the house. - mom <3"

You roll your eyes, ignoring the note and opening the glass of sweets. The doorbell rings before your fingers could make contact with the cookies, annoyance builds inside you.

I swear, if this isn't the dress I ordered online. Your pj's drag along the floor as you reach for the door, and a sweaty Jimin stands in front of you. You close your eyes out of embarrassment, regretting that you didn't check the peephole first. You stand in your loose black shirt that barely hangs on your left shoulder, revealing the strap of your bra.

"Wow, you look awful," Jimin narrows his eyes, meticulously scanning your appearance. Your bra strap was only a part of your horrible get up.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you assert, pulling the sleeve of your shirt to cover your exposed skin.

"I said I'd come by remember?" Oh, that's what he meant. "Sorry, I took long. Taehyung called for a meeting for the Curious Minds Club."

Of course, the Curious Minds Club, possibly the worst name for a science club. Jimin loved that name so much, he would always mention it in its entirety. It was his and Taehyung's idea, which you opposed when he asked for your opinion. He reasoned that you never cared about science anyway so you had no right to oppose him, which was stupid 'cause he asked for an opinion in the first place.

"You know what, it's a good thing you and Taehyung are graduating this year so juniors could rename that stupid club."

He walks past you and throws his bag on the floor before laying on the couch, not needing an invitation from you. "Why do you always have to hate my ideas? Just agree for once, Curious Minds is a legendary name."

You shut the door, heading back to the kitchen and finally getting your hands on the cookies. You moan in satisfaction, its taste exploding on your tongue. Jimin spins his head to you.

"Did your Mom make those?"

You nod, bringing the whole jar to him.You let the couch eat you, completely forgetting the reviewer waiting for you in your room. Jimin takes a bite and you absorbed his reaction, similar to yours.

"What are you gonna tell me?" you start.

Jimin's face lit up. "Right, almost forgot about that."

You sat a foot away from him, keeping distance from his nauseating perfume. Your legs cross in front of you, Jimin's arm spreads on top of the sofa right above you.

"So, you've never been in a relationship, right?" Not this again.

You nod, taking another soft cookie.

"I read your drafts during English class, and I gotta say y/n," you stare at him in anticipation, "you suck."

"You're gonna come over to my house, eat my Mom's cookies, and then roast me?! Fuck you, Jimin."

He laughs. "I'm kidding. You filled that paper with passion of hatred towards highschool couples, I started hating them as well," he explains.

"You're one of those couples, dummy. I actually took inspiration from you and Seulgi."

"I thought you don't follow our relationship?" he asks, his head cocking to your direction.

"I heard enough from you throughout the course of six months. Seulgi this, Seulgi that. Seulgi's being complicated, Seulgi's so cute when she burps. Seulgi's being too friendly with Taeyong, oh nevermind, Seulgi just said she loves me," you imitate his irritating ranting from the past, which you wish you would never receive anymore. Expecting an exasperated expression, you were surprised to see Jimin smiling at you.

"I thought you weren't listening all those times."

"Sadly, I was and I shouldn't have."

"The Taeyong part is still true, though," he extends the cookie he was holding forward, trying to pinpoint, "I saw them before dismissal."

"Look at you, all sad and sentimental. Cute li'l Jimin stalking his ex-girlfriend. Awe, how tragic," you vexed, pouting at the obviously annoyed boy.

"I wasn't stalking. I just saw them."

"Poor guy getting his heart broken in the hallway, poor Chimchim. How is he gonna move on now?"

"Quit it," sneered Jimin, indulging on his cookie.

He was still affected, it happened only a few hours ago, he won't be moving on too quickly. Seulgi's laugh is still fresh in his memory, and he could hear it vividly. He could still feel his stomach drop when he thinks of her. His world crumbling into pieces, like the cookie at the bottom of the jar, whenever he's reminded of how her eyes disappear when she smiles much like his — eyes forming intro wrinkly crescents. You felt as if you went below the belt when he became quiet, an uncomfortable silence sitting in the gap between the both of you.

"Back to my proposal," he breaks, "it would really change your writing."

You face pulled together in a center. "How can you say so, Mr. Photographer?"

He inches closer, but his smell was weaker, it was bearable. "Just like what the late Benjamin Franklin had said, 'either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.'"

Your lungs deflate, narrowed eyes processing him. "And what does that have to do with my writing? I wrote something worth reading," you proudly announce.

"No, you're writing your own opinion on a feature. When I read it, I felt like going nowhere. I didn't feel like going back to high school. I felt like I'm in the same place, there's nothing that opened in me," he explains, his words tightening your own throat. "The topic is falling in love in high school, but all I ever felt was hatred."

He pulled a chord in you. He was actually right. Your body falls on the couch, groaning out of frustration.

"What you wrote isn't worth reading, but-" he slouches on the couch and faces you, "you can do something worth writing."

Your cheek sinks on the couch, glaring at Jimin who never looked more passionate about helping you. Break ups do things to people, really.

"And what's that exactly?"

"I know you've never fallen in love in high school, so I'm gonna let you experience what people in love do."

"That doesn't sound like a good idea. I don't want to get messy with Seulgi." The cold leather against your cheeks didn't stop them to burn.

"No, y/n, we're not gonna date. Just trust me on this one, okay?" he convinces and you give in, finding no sense in arguing about a stupid subject

"Just don't do anything weird. I don't really get the gist of your plan."

"What are things that couples do?"

"Aside from making out and having sex at a party? I don't know," you say, his face not impressed.

"I really hate you right now. That's not what we do-"

"Did," you correct, a smile forming on your lips. His frown only worsens from the continuous mocking that you were doing. "Go on, what else did you do?"

His eyes rolled. "Dates. Have you ever been on dates?"

Of course, you have. Family dates count as real dates. That coffee date you had with Sana last Thursday counts, right?

And so, without further arguments within you, you decided to turn down Jimin's dumb idea. Who is he to make fun of you for not going to dates often? You were about to tell him that he's not an inch entitled to show you what a date feels like.

Unreasonably anxious, you tug your skirt down as a small swirl of wind hits on your thin skin. Jimin waves from the bench, standing up to analyze what you wore. You weren't supposed to feel your stomach fall when you finally came to face him, but you did. A tiny voice doubted your outfit choice, and a tiny voice told you how good he looked. Satisfaction fills your wandering mind, you were scared you'd come overdressed with your white puff sleeves.

There was a short amount of silence that gave you enough time to admire him. His Canon camera hangs around his neck, it was the first thing you noticed. He stands there in his skin-tight black pair of ripped jeans, and topped with a thick mustard hoodie. His cute yellow sneakers popped out from the gray cemented ground. Your nose tickled when his scent enters.

"Sorry" was all you could say.

He grins gently, eyes disappearing. "You're about thirty minutes late."

If you didn't spend minutes arguing with yourself about what to wear, you would've arrived sooner. But here you are, still regretting the choice you made. His bright fashion didn't complement your pale vintage look, not that it mattered to him, but you grew conscious.

"Where are you taking me?" you strengthen your voice, trying to seem more confident than you really are.

He tucks both of his hands inside his pockets. "Just pretend I'm either Jungkook or Mr. Kim, whoever you wanna go on a date with."

Imagining Jungkook with a sheepish bunny-like smile, your heart starts to melt and it was vivid in your cheeks.

"See, you're already flustering."

"No, I'm not. Get on with your plan." It was obvious but you chose to deny it, Jimin should be the last person on earth to see you flustered. "Where are you taking me?"

"There's a photography exhibit down the street I'd like to take you in. Wanna eat first?"

His eyes can't help but wander around your body, and you'd be blind to not notice what he was doing.

"Is there something wrong with I'm wearing?" The loud children playing by park almost made your voice inaudible.

"Nope, it's amazing. You look beautiful, y/n," his pitch ascends, tweaking your ears.

You diminish your mind from his compliment, it's all an act. You know he's only doing this to make you feel something which what everything is about. You look away from him, distracting yourself with the pigeons nearby, hoping it would stop your blood from rushing to your face. Jimin takes your hand, intertwining it with his soft palm. Your body hitches and he only held on tighter.

"I know a cafe."

You didn't give him an answer to decide, but he was already pulling you towards a corner. It would've been an unbearable silence if you weren't in public. You hoped he would not notice how your skin has gone damp, tensed by the moment his warm soft fingers made contact with yours. Excitement awakens within you, an unfamiliar emotion.

The moment you saw him sitting on the bench waiting for you, it already felt like a poem waiting to be written. You could already write a hundred words just describing how he looked today. It isn't love, it's just attraction.

He opens the entrance to a cafe — you were too distracted to read the name. You lose contact with his hand as he sits by the counter and so did you. A middle-aged woman with a forced grin awaits on the other side of the counter.

"I'd have a chocolate milkshake," you tell Jimin, shyness was completely obvious in your voice.

"Just one chocolate milkshake," Jimin tells the waiter, his gaze focused on you.

Jenna — written on her name tag — gives a forced lift to her cheeks, proceeding to the kitchen behind. You were in the midst of asking him why he only ordered for himself, but you jumped when you hear his camera click, a flash directed towards your way.

"Ugh, what's wrong with you?"

"To make it last longer," Jimin mumbles, you ignore.

You shouldn't have agreed to this. You shouldn't have rejected Sana's offer to review at the library. You shouldn't have let Jimin take control of the day. Because ever since the moment you arrived in your carefully picked clothes, your mind never acted straight. Never in your five years of high school have you ever felt so embarrassed and timid.

Why isn't he talking? Did I look stupid in the last photo? How many chapters could I have reviewed by now if I stayed home?

Jenna slams the glass of chocolate shake on the counter. You and Jimin didn't bother to react, too busy thinking of what exactly is this tension between the both of you. Jimin takes two straws, slowly inserting them on the mushy drink. He leans forward on his elbow rested against the cold edge of the table, facing sidewards to look at you better. You looked cute when you're ignoring his gaze, and for a second, he forgot the hole in his heart. It only felt stronger the moment you side-eyed him.

"What?" you mutter, unaware of your effect on him.

After a small sip, his eyes widened when he gulped. "It's good, c'mon, try it."

His bottom lip glistens, you weren't even sure why you caught that detail on his face. With a scrutinizing look from him, the moment didn't grow comfortable for you. The longer you stayed with him, the harder it is you try to stop your stomach from doing unnecessary turns.

You sigh. This is not gonna get better if you keep acting like a shy high school girl — well, you are a shy high school girl, but that's never the case with Jimin. He was your friend, a very close friend. With a lump swallowed in your throat, you approached the elephant in the room.

"Jimin," you breathe. "This is weird. I don't even kno-"

"I'll stop you there. You're having butterflies in your stomach, aren't you?" He licks his lip, excited to hear your answer.

"No. No, I'm not having butterflies in my stomach." You raise your chin.

He snickers. "You're supposed to feel it, not deny it. You're such an amateur. Your writing's not gonna get better if you keep being subjective. You feel flustered like the other girls in high school on a date, accept it."

He's making sense and you hate it. But at least it has been addressed. He knows what you're feeling and you don't have to keep it a secret. Defeated, you sigh. You regained your composure which you might have lost by the moment he smiled at you at the bench.

"You take Seulgi here often?" Your lips trembled in the slightest way before taking a sip from your straw.

Jimin chokes on his own breath. "What? You're asking about my ex on our date?"

An intense heat builds upon you, beading of sweat forms on your nape. Our date, two words that repeated like a broken vinyl in your head. Maybe it was being numb for years that everything right now starts to feel like everything. It's not the same emotions you feel when you wrote those drafts, it's something else you can't put your tongue on.

You purse your lips, swallowing the cold drink. "What do we even talk about?" you giggle out.

He didn't take any second to think, Jimin already had something in mind. His hand touches the glass of the drink, finger rubbing the small drips of water on its sides. There isn't something that he's doing that you weren't noticing. You're quite aware that he was just as observant as you by the way he hasn't taken his eyes off you since you sat down.

"Why do you write?" He lifts the glass off the table, bringing it close to him and taking a sip while he waits for your answer.

Well, it's a simple reason. It's all you know, it's all you ever do. Your second grade teacher was quite an amazing narrator. You remember closing your eyes to her melodic voice as she describes the dragon's tower: red bricks stand over a thousand pieces, to the sky it went and in the cloud it hid, scared to be found by a knight who wanted nothing but to save it. It was a remnant of your almost forgotten childhood, since then you only wanted to seek more of those words. A flaming desire sparked in you, that is to write a picture.

"You ever had that feeling like flying when you read something? It's so vibrant and you could almost feel it take you places." You bit your lip, eyes closing to pull your words together. "I want people to feel what I feel, what I see, what I know. To get them to react the way I want them to, but learn something I never knew I wrote." You open your eyes to see him deeply absorbed in your explanation. "You probably don't even get it," you sigh.

"No, I totally get it. I understand."  He places the drink back to its wet ring-like mark on the table. "That's exactly how I feel about photography. I want people to see the way I view things, my focal point in life. With photography, I can get them to look at things in a specific perspective."

You were unconscious of the smooth smile that grew on your lips. All this time, you thought you knew Jimin well, but this only opened a door to him. For five years, you've always been ignorant of what others do and what others feel. It felt like a waste of years, the only thing you learned about in high school was Sana's love for body sprays and now, Jimin's reason for photography.

Your throat goes dry, not having anything to say. Though you had a lot in mind, how his eyes shined bright when he enthusiastically praised what he loves. Regret screams inside you, how could I let five years pass by so quickly. There was so much to learn and so much to write, it's a disappointment you've only written for essays and Min Yoongi.

You scoot towards the drink, trying to catch the straw with your lips while your eyes are darted on Jimin. Slurping impulsively, you caught Jimin's face turn into a shock.

"Don't finish our drink!" He dives in with you, sipping much more intensely than you.

You slid off to laugh, a small amount of chocolate drapes on your bottom lip but you were fast enough to catch it with your finger. You catch the straw again, trying to compete with Jimin. The proximity between you was the last thing in your mind, you only cared about getting more milkshake than Jimin who seem to fall behind your level.

You slam your fist on the table after finishing the drink and Jimin leans away to laugh, already accepting his lost. "I win!" you cheer, holding the biggest smile.

Jimin cocks his head, stretching out his hand for a handshake. With a graceful pump, he exhales a tired huff from laughing too hard. "I guess that's one thing you're good at," his lips curved, forming a soft wrinkle on his right cheek. "Sucking."

You snort. "You're also good at finishing early." Earning a chuckle from him, your brow raised.

"How would you know? You never tried me."

You inhale silently, not wanting him to be aware of your reaction. What a stupid comeback. He stands from his seat, pulling his black leather wallet from his back pocket.

"Let's split it," you tell him immediately, hand already reaching for your purse.

"Hey, no. This one's on me. I invited you remember?" He was already placing a bill on the table which Jenna quickly approached, leaving a tip for her that made her smile a little different than earlier.

Your skin turns moist as the both of you walk out the cafe, heat raking against your skin. He returns his hand in yours, so casually it felt so real. He's got a hold of your fingers and he does it so well, it didn't feel foreign, like your hand has somehow molded in there and made its home.

You follow his direction, not bothering to speak since you were afraid your words would only fail you. Silence doesn't seem to bother Jimin as much as it bothers you, he only focused on his way to the exhibit and how your hand felt wrapped in his. Not being able to endure it any longer, you dared to speak.

"I'll pay you back, I promise."

His head didn't turn, and his mouth didn't open. Instead, his thumb rubs over yours. It was a movement so subtle, yet electricity bursts under your skin. You drift your focus on your footsteps, refusing to step on a crack making your phase noticeable to Jimin. You fall a little behind from him, but the game you're playing with your feet felt so serious at the moment. Jimin eyes you, then to your feet, figuring out what the hell you were trying to do. Thinning the space between his brows, he pulls you close with a tight grip on your hand.

"We're here," strictly he says.

A narrow door towers in front of you, and Jimin pulls you inside. Like a normal exhibit, walls were white, exaggerating the black and white photos hanging around them. Strangers inside could easily be counted, scattered around every corner of the room.

"They're all by Ash Park, a film photographer," he states, leading you to the left side to showcase the first picture.

In a golden frame, a pale girl bends to play ball with children much shorter than her in an alleyway. Jimin finds interest in your face, clearing his throat to begin his explanation. You ignore the description pasted on the wall beside it, letting Jimin do the work.

"That's in Cuba. That girl there is an actress, not so popular though. She and Ash are very close friends, if not more than that."

Your brows quirked up, lips pouting with the information given. "Bet your ass they are."

He breathes a laugh before walking to the next frame, and you follow.

"Did you go here already?" you asked, arms crossed against your chest and eyes pinned on the picture.

The same girl sits at the end of the bed, winking at the camera. Her hands politely placed on her thighs with legs crossed. Even in a colorless picture, her personality can be vibrantly seen. She was simply beautiful in her lacy dress.

You turn to Jimin who was staring right at you, his head quickly turning to the photo.

"I've been here with Taehyung," he answers. "About the picture, it's the same girl obviously. I think it's exquisitely symmetrical. Just amazing how aesthetic she looked sitting so proper on the bed. She's like the center of everything in that hotel room, I think that's what Ash is on about."

"I love your depiction, it's making me fall in love," you thin your lips, "with the picture, of course."

Jimin huffs. "Just the picture? Look at her, she's beautiful. He's clearly in love with her. I could hear her laugh from this picture, it's making me fall in love with her too."

"What's her name?"

"Jinri."

You've always thought that words are the only thing that can move a person, but Jinri's smile shines through the printed material. In an unexplainable way, you could feel the chemistry built within the photographer and the model, it is way beyond words. Again, Jimin explains another picture and always find yourself so absorbed within his way of interpretation. And aside from that, whenever your eyes look upon him, he already had his on you.

It goes on for a while, then you found your favorite piece. Jinri reading a book while her body rests on the glass of a store's window. Surrounded by a busy street, it seemed scripted. Nonetheless, it was still beautiful.

"This is my favorite," Jimin says.

"No way, I was just debating about that." Your eyes wandered around the picture, trying to pick up more details.

Jimin grins in astonishment. "It reminds me of a specific picture I took back in eighth grade. Do you remember the book fair?"

"Are you kidding? That's where we met."

"Yeah. That's the day I first brought my camera to school. I was playing around with the lens, trying out different stuff, and then I accidentally took a picture of this girl reading a book. And when I looked at it, the camera focused on her and the rest of the crowd was a blur."

"Do I know her?"

Jimin gulps. "No, probably not. From what I heard, she transferred schools the same year. It's my favorite though, I even printed it out."

"Really? Let me se-"

"It's in my Science notebook. I'll show you some other time."

The rest of the day continued, Jimin asking if you wanted to eat again which you wasted no second to say yes to. You eventually found out about Jimin's hatred towards ketchup. And when you got home, unopened books greeted you from your desk. However, regret didn't knock on your door that night, you were only left smiling while highlighting half of the pages.

But you weren't supposed to be thinking of Jimin like that, knowing the fact that you were supposed to imagine Jungkook during that date. It was bothersome that Jungkook never even crossed your mind today.

Sana's menacing eyes scanned you from head to toe, not believing the lie you had just told her. Your words completely stopping her from reviewing the Lush soap in her hand. Placing the glittery soap back to its container, she minimizes the gap between your bodies.

"I know damn well when you're lying, y/n. You did not review with Park Jimin." Your chest heaved at the mention of his name and you hope Sana didn't notice.

But of course, she's much like you. Quite the observant type, that's why she's your best friend. Years of observing and chattering about high school drama in the cafeteria would be useless if she didn't notice that small body language.

Lately, you keep finding yourself in situations you regret going to. Again, you were supposed to be diving deeper into your calculus reviewer, which you failed to finish last night, but to make up for rejecting Sana's offer to review at the library a day ago, you let her drag you to the mall. You wish you can just gauge your eyes out to make it impossible for Sana to read them.

She releases a breath, the mint chocolate ice cream she had from earlier traveling to your nose. "Please tell me you used a condom."

You slap her shoulder, eyes widening while she solemnly awaits your response. "What's wrong with you? That's the last thing on my list." Immediately regretting your last sentence, you shut your eyes tightly. "I mean it's not on my list." Fuck.

"You're risking failing the exams for a date, that's very unlikely of you."

Not wanting to look at her much longer, you drew your eyes to the bath bombs placed on the wooden table, hands skimming through their rough texture.

"We did not date. We had to do our assignments for the school pub," you clarify, emphasizing every word clearly.

Sana's body remains to face you, ignoring her favorite shimmery body products lying on the shelf beside her. "Last time I heard that was on Fifteen and Pregnant. Was it missionary? Come on, tell me the details."

"Holy shit, quit it! I didn't have sex with Jimin!" You heard every head turning to face you, looks of disgust thrown towards your way.

"Oh, really?" A deep voice sneaks behind you, making you place the lavender bath bomb back to its place. Taehyung blinks like a dumbfounded child, contrasting his deep voice from earlier. His height towers over you and Sana who was just as confused as you are.

"Excuse me? Is it normal for nerds to be such a creep all the time?" You felt Sana nod from beside you with her arms crossed on her chest.

"What? I'm not a nerd. You're a nerd," he points to Sana, "you too."

"Why are you here anyway? This is Lush not Gamestop."

His nose crinkled. "Just a quick FYI, there's a difference between geeks and nerds. And I am not any of those." Placing a hand in the middle of his chest, he looks you deeper.

You smirk, turning to Sana. "Nerd."

"Are you buying lotion for your boyfriend? Is that why you're here?" Sana curves a corner of her lips, proud of what she had said.

"No, I'm here to buy wax for your Mom. You got any suggestions?" retaliated Taehyung, cocking a head towards Sana. "I happen to pass by and I heard you talking about fucking Jimin. I was intrigued."

"Ew, no. She was joking," you reply, rolling your eyes to Sana.

"Oh, I know. He wouldn't be talking with Seulgi if you guys did... you know?" He raises a brow, and you furrowed yours, trying to pretend that you don't understand.

The mention of Seulgi's name struck a chord in you. You knew it was physically impossible for your blood to boil, but it's the right way to describe it. Guessing it's only the hatred for Sana and Taehyung teasing you about Jimin, somehow deep inside you were envious of Seulgi. It was probably the reason Jimin was hard to be seen today, and you're not denying that you did expect him to come talk with you.

"He was?" you ask with a tiny voice, unaware that you just said it.

"I saw them during lunchtime, didn't you?" Taehyung replies sternly, having no intention to make fun of your reaction.

"Right. Yeah, I saw them," you lie quickly, biting your lip afterwards.

Sana looks at you from your side, pursing her lips and trying her best to not say the wrong thing. It was her first time to see you unreadable. Your emotions were new and something she's never encountered before throughout years of knowing you. She's only used to comforting you about a failed quiz, or a scolding from Mrs. Cruz when you can't pronounce Desafortunadamente properly. But she can guess it, jealousy and confusion isn't something new to her. However, it's still absurd to see those emotions printed on your face.

Sana ended up buying a strawberry chapstick, and Taehyung had left before you knew it. She insists to take you home for unknown reasons, it was unusual of her to do so. And you throw yourself on the bed, still with your hot sweater on, careless if you start to smell or not.

You push your head onto the soft fabric of your pillow, trying to take your mind off of your reviewer and the unresolved teenage drama, ew. Now all of your actions are revealing their consequences, your mind falling into a pit of regret. Your crush on Jimin can't come back now, not before the exam at least. You have no strength to fight all that emotions, you should only have one thing in your head and it should be Chapter 8: DNA Base Pairs.

Screaming into the pillow, your Dad comes walking to your door, knocking passively and asking if you were doing okay which you stuttered a yes to. You release an exasperated sigh when you hear him walk back downstairs, continuing his favorite ESPN show.

You would think that a long exhausting day would actually exhaust you, but for some dumb reason, you got up from your bed and sat behind your desk. With a palpitating heart, your eyes wander around the messy table, looking for some sort of entertainment.

I should sleep, like right now. It was a school night, and staying up to decide whether to watch a RomCom movie or to write stresses you more than it should. For the mean time, fuck DNA Base Pairs and calculus, life is now and you're watching 50 First Dates for the seventh time.

The light emitting from the crevice below your door and the floor dims down a few moments ago, and your Dad was no longer cheering for a Christiano Ronaldo rerun. The night has gone quicker than you thought, it was already twelve o'clock sharp, and your eyes are not weighing down at least one bit. They remain full and in awe whenever Drew Barrymore is shown on screen.

Your jump out of your skin when you heard a soft clonk from outside your window, thinking it would just be a twig falling down a tree, you ignore. But they continued for three more times, and twigs falling down during a serene quiet night would be strange. If it was windy outside, you would've heard its gush.

You pause the movie on your laptop screen, waiting for another sound. And then you heard three more knocks. Your head follows the sound. You've never felt more overly excited in your life, stomach jumping in anticipation.

Jimin smiles through the window, relieved that you haven't gone deaf. He waves, then points towards the lock on your window. You nod, hopping out of your seat to unlock it. You hear him sigh, throwing his bag inside your room.

"What are you doing here? Did you get in trouble?"

Jimin's petite body slides right in with no problem, huffing in front of you after his success. He looks to your door then back at you, sweat rolling against the frame of his face.

"You wanna wake your parents? Can you chill for a sec," he whispers, walking towards the end of your bed and dropping on the floor.

While you were busy struggling to pull down the window, Jimin drags his bag to get his camera. Before you could flop beside him, the camera flashes your face. Your lips remain thin, too lazy to react. Scratching the back of your ear, you sit beside him.

"Seriously, how'd you get here in the middle of the night?" you ask, hugging your legs while your fingers tug on the fabric of your jeans.

Jimin spreads his legs, slouching on the wood behind him. He turns the camera off before seeing the picture, his focus already on you. "I stole my brother's car."

"And for what reason?"

"I can't sleep," his head hits the hard material as he turns to see you closer and you cringed for him, "I didn't see you at school today, why's that?"

"Sana dragged me to the mall right after my Spanish class. As for lunch break, I finished my Social Studies essay in the library."

"You could have told me at least. I was waiting for you during lunch."

"No, you weren't," you say quickly, "you were with Seulgi."

Jimin's head rises from its comfort, tilting in confusion. "Why would I be with her?"

You gulp, preparing to say the next lines without jealousy interfering in them. "Taehyung told me so. I ran to him at the mall."

He laughs, making you nervous. His head falls back again, bringing his hand on his stomach. "He probably saw us in the hallway. I did talk to her."

You bit your lip, confused why you expected a different answer from him. Your emotions remain unsolved.

"She wanted to get her bracelet back. She left it in my room before we broke up, but that's about it."

Contentment calms your nerve. He leans closer, and his familiar scent once again enters your nostrils, you exhale it away. "So, I came here uh... I feel like I needed someone to talk to."

"Taehyung's a choice," you reply, closing your eyes to lessen the excitement.

"His parents are actually going through a divorce right now, I don't want to add to his problems," he lets go of a long sigh, body falling to your side.

You lean backwards to make him feel more comfortable, watching his eyes close gently. "You should be there for him," you suggest in a soft tone.

"When I saw her earlier, I didn't want to approach her. I was confused when she walked to me," he said, disregarding your reply. "I feel guilty. I feel like I shouldn't be over her so quickly, I mean... I'm not over her, it's just that I feel better than how she's doing."

You listen to the sound of his calm breathing, and his hoarse voice that tried its best to get lower than it already is.

"When I talked about following her to college, I only said it to feel like I'm doing what I should as her boyfriend. I've always felt obligated around her and that's not how it should go. I love her but it's not the kind of love where everything falls into place." Jimin groans, lifting his body off you.

He ruffles his hair, bending his legs upwards to hug them, copying your position.

"I know it sounded like I'm seeking for perfect love, I'm not. I know relationships have their struggles, but my love for her isn't strong enough to keep it going. She broke up with me, but I feel like I was just waiting for her to."

"You children are so in love with the word 'love'." You dig your chin in between your knees.

"Y/n, it's love whether it's weak or strong. It's love for what I knew love to be. But I love her in a way I couldn't do things for myself, not that she forced me to, I just felt obligated to do so."

"Then don't do it. She'll still love you back even if you don't follow her to college."

"Do I sound stupid?"

You lift your chin to look at him, his eyes already angled towards you. "Honestly? Not really. You're in the midst of things, you can laugh about it later if it's stupid, but it's how you feel and you shouldn't be ashamed of it."

"Exactly, so why are you hating on high school romance again?"

You laugh. "I might need a little more convincing from you."

Your response was what he wanted to hear. There's more comfort in your hand and he realized that the moment he have let go of it during the day at the exhibition. He wants to do this with you, more than ever.

"Do you want to get some KFC?" he asks.

"Are you kidding? It's 12AM!"

"Do stomachs close when it's midnight? Come on, I'm really craving for some zinger right now. And we'll be back before your parents even know it," he insists. "Do something adventurous for once, high school is ending and all you can tell your grandkids about it is homework."

You roll your eyes. "I really can't," smacking your lips, "say no to that."

Jimin wastes no time in pulling you towards the window, but you shake his hand off to take your dirty sweater off, revealing your sky blue smocked bodice cami top. Jimin ravels his eyes on your body, a lump forming inside his throat.

"Move," you tease, pushing him towards the window. Thank God, it was humid outside, you wouldn't have survived with just a sleeveless top.

The next thing you know, Jimin was singing at the top of his lungs to What Lovers Do and with such a falsetto voice, you sang along as well. Looking to your side was when you realized how great the city lights compliment Jimin's smile, and everything felt so fixed, you weren't worried about getting caught nor falling asleep in class tomorrow, it just felt so right and perfect.

This was something based on novels you read as a middle schooler, and you were foolish to never believe in any of it. Some quotes start to make sense, everything was a hazy dream and no words can ever define how extraordinary Jimin's eyes looked as they twinkle inside the dark vehicle.

Jimin had no other thoughts than enjoying the moment with you, in this year is where it all ends and everything starts. Graduation was nearing and the only thing making perfect sense for him was that soft beam you have while you bob your head to the beat. Bokeh was something that he only sees in pictures, but he dies right the moment you smiled at him and you were surrounded by them.

He makes a turn, almost forgetting that you were here to eat with him. As soon as the both of you arrive inside, Jimin runs to the counter to place the orders.

You sit near the entrance, chin resting on your palm while you wait for Jimin to finish. The girl in the counter seems to be around your age, and she looks at Jimin with so much happiness in your eyes. You giggle. Jimin leans on the counter, silently talking with the girl to which she keeps responding with a laugh.

Jimin sits across you, setting the food on the table. His hand immediately grabbing his zinger. You watch him take the first bite while you unwrap yours, pretending to be as hungry as he was.

"How do you do that? Flirt all over the place?" You point your sandwich towards Jimin whose cheeks are bulging.

He swallows, eyes shutting to savor the satisfaction. "Oh, I'm not flirting. She was." He turns his head to the girl with a wide smile, then to you. "How do you do that? Hate on something you've never felt nor experienced?"

"Hm," resting your arms on the table, "I don't actually hate it anymore. This thing that we're doing, teaching me what people in love do, it's kinda fascinating."

His gaze alternates to you and his food. "There's more to this. This is what friends do, but what Seulgi and I did was so much more than just this."

You look down, taking a bite to ignore the weird emotion forming inside you.

"I mean what couples do. I know you're pretending I'm Jungkook and that's the thing, friends are great companion but when it's the person you love, time feels faster."

"I'm not actually pretending you're Jungkook," you confess, and you felt him lose his composure but he was quick enough to take it back.

"You seem to smile at me like I'm somebody else."

"I smile at you just fine," you take a sip of the Sprite beside your tray. "Anyways, do you already have something to send Yoongi?"

He nods. "Already took my masterpiece."

You roll your eyes. "Wish I could say the same. Exams are two days from now and I just gave up reviewing."

"I could study with you, I'll come over tomorrow."

"How is that gonna help me review?"

"I'm like the best study buddy ever. Have you written anything yet?"

You huff in disbelief. "No, inspiration's not coming to me."

Jimin moves away, mouth agape. "Y/n, look at me," and you did more than you already were, "I'm all the inspiration you need. Write something about how I smell good or how my eyes look when I talk, girls love to read that shit."

"First of all, you smell like every rotten fruits combined. Second, no. That's not what feature writing is about, I'm not gonna turn it into a John Green novel."

"Turn it into an erotica, let Yoongi jack off to it before rejecting it."

You snort, cheeks turning red. "You think he jerks off to erotica?" you ask in between laughs.

"I did, Fifty Shades of Grey chapter thirty-nine." He leans back, waiting for your reaction. "It was worth a wet page."

"I do not need details. Jimin, what the fuck?"

He raises his brows, chewing on his fries. Eating has never been more attractive. He smirks. "Hurry up eating." Jimin cleans his mouth with a tissue, slamming his fist on the table to rush you.

"Jesus, you wanted me to eat," you reply with your mouth full, crumpling the wrapper to slip it inside the empty cup.

The both of you leaves the place laughing, pushing each other on the way to his car — brother's car in the dark and empty parking lot. It was just the crickets, moderate hums of cars passing by, and your laughs, play fighting with each other. Before the car splits the both of you, Jimin pulls you to remain behind the vehicle.

"What?" He holds your arm in a careful manner, calming down from his giggles.

"I've never done this before," Jimin leads you to the driver's side, opening the door to reach for the radio. Leaving the car door open, Linger by The Cranberries made its way to your ears.

You feel your neck sets afire, you swear they've turned a bright pink that roamed to your cheeks. With wide eyes, questioning Jimin's actions. "You're not turning this into a coming of age film, are you?"

His palms glide to your waist, pulling you closer to him. Thank goodness the lot was empty, but you doubted maybe the girl Jimin was flirting with earlier can somehow see your bodies ridiculously swaying. That's the least of your worries, because Jimin's hands was electricity to your exposed skin. You decide to wrap your arms around his neck, not wanting to make it any more awkward and just going with the flow.

He blinks at you. "Yes, we certainly are." He purses his lips, you can only look.

Besides your swelling heart, your lips shake trying to suppress its cavernous grin. "So, this is what corny couples do?"

Jimin exhales through his nostrils, taking your hand to extend it to the side while he hugs you closer. "No, no. This is what we do, y/n."

You couldn't comprehend what he said, disregarding it by burying your head deep into his chest, inhaling his scent like making a memory, he does the same by digging his nose into your hair. You close your eyes to concentrate on the beat of his heart, just as fast as yours and synchronized perfectly.

"I've never done this before," he repeats and he feels you nod. "Have you?"

"No," you tell his chest. "Why would you think I've done it?"

His hot breath rolls on your scalp, enjoying the smell of your papaya shampoo. It goes on for a while, steady breathing no matter how fast both of your hearts rush. Then he lets go, a part of you already missing the feeling of his chest against your cheek.

"Can I just..." Jimin breaks, ignoring your question, his hand that used to intertwine yours holds your cheek, his grasp on your waist tightening. Your eyes were still, and he watches as though they were incomparable even when they're closed.

In a sharp push from behind you, fingers extending to push you further to his groin. Your eyes flutter open as his lips connect with yours. You pull away and you catch Jimin's eyes close, slowly opening them again.

"I'm sorry." He moves away, feeling horrible for just kissing you like that. Before he enters the car, you tug his arm, framing his face with your hands to pull him again back to your lips. He rakes his fingers on your back, just a little above your ass.

Feeling shy, the movement of your lips were subtle. But Jimin just devoured them, and you followed his sloppy kiss. He exhales heavily it sounded like a grunt, smiling in between. You wrap around him again, and he lifts his fingers to your nape. Pushing you towards the car, he jerks his hip and so did you, unfamiliar heat pooling between your thighs.

You thrust against him again, he grips you waist tighter only to pull away.

"You need to stop that," he purrs, giving you one last peck.

You followed his body, but he signals you to stop. Confused, you went to the other side and processed what he was trying to do. The kiss was too good to regret, it felt like an achievement rather. And the ride back to your house was unsatisfying, you didn't want to go home, you only wanted more. But Jimin leaves the moment he takes his bag, silence wrapping every second. No words exchanged after he stopped you from kissing him again, fazing you the whole night.

You spent your day memorizing at school, just happy that the teachers gave enough free time to let their students study for the upcoming exams. Except of course for Mrs. Cruz who went about Spanish adverbs.

Tuesday was boring, well, a little. It would've been extremely boring if the kiss last night didn't happen. Aside from flipping pages in the library while Sana sits comfortably beside you, your mind wanders why the fuck - why the fuck Jimin kissed you then stopped you. You poke Sana, intending to tell her about it, it doesn't matter if she can help, but she shakes your hand away and made a hissing noise. Slouching in your seat, you pick up your notes again, rereading each sentences.

Once. Twice. Thrice. Trying to get the definition of protein inside your head, but you're far from getting there when footsteps behind you felt closer. Please don't be him. But of course, destiny seems to love the idea of you being miserable.

"We need to talk," Jimin says right when you stand to face him, holding a brown teddy bear in his hand.

"No, dingus. She's with me," Sana protests, putting down her trig notebook.

"Actually, we need to really talk. Like really need to really talk, you know?" you reply, leaving your seat while Sana frowns.

Sana was only two steps away, yet Jimin continued with his statement.

"About the kiss," he begins. "I'm really sorry, I didn't know what I was doing. I shouldn't have done it."

"Right," you lie. "I also didn't know what I was doing. I was just thinking of Jungkook and I dived right in, I'm such an idiot. It was like one in the morning, I was hallucinating." You fake a giggle and Jimin furrows his brows.

"You were thinking of Jungkook?" he mutters, almost inaudibly. "I mean, right. Yeah, you're thinking of Jungkook, I should know ha ha."

"Let's just forget about it. It's dumb." You nod your head, and he bites his lip trying to ignore your gaze. "Is that for Seulgi?" Pointing towards the medium stuff toy, and he lifts it while scratching his nape.

"Nope, this is actually for you," he extends the toy forward and you uncertainly accept. "Are we still on tonight? You know? About the studying thing?"

You grit your teeth, pushing your thumbs roughly on the bear's stomach. "Of course, why wouldn't we be? Let's just forget about that thing last night, uhm... See you at five?"

Jimin finds you unbelievable, he couldn't even get over about the kiss ever since this morning but here you were, someone who's never been kissed before being so casual.

"Five it is." His lids drop, ignoring the prickly feeling as he walks away.

You release a huff, staring at the bear while Sana watches you with her mouth wide open.

"Wow, you're actually dating him."

You turn over to see her face, rolling your eyes. "Last thing on my list, okay?"

She shrugs.

It wasn't long 'till the sun sets, you were already in your pj's and this time, you wore a tight shirt to prevent Jimin from seeing your boring bra straps. You weren't even preparing the study materials, you were just sitting on the couch, tensed and dense, with ears waiting for the doorbell to finally ring.

Bracing yourself, you stare at the bear placed on the other side of the couch and it looks as though it's speaking right back at you. The doorbell rings, and you run to the door as fast as you could but you stopped before opening it, arguing with yourself whether to smile or not, pretending like you don't care that he's here.

"Hey," he clears his throat, "are you ready?"

"For what?"

He grins at your stupid question. "To study? What else are we gonna do?"

You shake your head, throwing your thoughts in a bin as you move away from the door, leaving him to close it. The heat beneath your thighs from your seat earlier comforts you, you're home and there's nothing to be nervous about — except you're home alone with Jimin and you have every reason to be nervous.

"What do study buddies do? I'm not really a fan of company," you confess as if he doesn't know yet.

"I don't know. I've never done it either." He laughs. "Let's just ask each other questions."

You nod, watching him sit a foot apart from you, positioning his black bag next to the couch.

"Oh," he expressed, looking at his gift that lies comfortably next to him. "Hello."

You place your thick Biology book on top of your lap, searching for questions you could ask him. "You ready?"

"When you are." He waits, rubbing his knee.

Fuck, there really was this stupid tension that won't go away even if you try. You breathe unsteadily, hoping your voice won't crack.

"What's a codon?"

He clicks his tongue. "It's a sequence of three nucleotides that corresponds to an amino acid. A full set of codons is called a genetic code." His voice was suave, completely unaware of your thoughts.

"Great, that's great. That's more than what a blank would need. Next question."

He nods.

"What's a DNA made up of?"

"Phosphate, 5-carbon sugar, and nitrogenous bases."

"Yes. Are you sure you need to review?"

"Yeah, it's just two questions I got right."

"Fine. What kind of bonds hold together the nucleotides within one one strand?"

"Special covalent bonds called phosphodiester bonds. Is that correct?"

"Yeah. This is unfair, you're in a science club."

"It's not just a science club. It's the Curious Minds Club."

You groan. "I was trying to forget that stupid name."

"Say what, Ms. Secretary of Mr. Darcy Fan Club."

"That's not the name of our club! It's Diverse Readers Literary Group."

"Oh, I forgot. You know why I forgot? It's boring."

"Dee-Ar-El-Gee. Sounds more professional than Curious Minds, it's like you're hosting a Disney show."

"DRLG? Sounds like a social worker group."

"Whatever. Your tiny brain won't understand."

He steals the book from your lap, flipping to a page you've never seen before. "What kind of bonds hold together the nucleotides within one strand?"

"Shit. Hydrogen bonds?"

"See? You got this. How many bonds do the nirogenous bases form?"

"A and T form 2... uh... hydrogen bonds while C and G form 3."

"You're just as qualified for the Curious Minds Club."

"Oh, no."

He laughs, dismissing your thoughts away. You find yourself breathing properly around him, forgetting the taste of his lips.

"Next question," he snaps his fingers, "how well do I kiss?"

You look at him for the first time in a while, his legs on the couch before you could even scold him for it. He has his arms on top of the couch, right above you. "Seriously?" was all you could say.

"Quick survey." You weren't kidding but it sounded like he was, though he anticipates your answer.

"It was great," you whisper, remembering it all again. How you thrusted onto him, tasting his sweet lips from the remnants of sprite, and how his smell didn't bother you a single bit.

"Just great?"

He shifts closer, and you turn your direction in front. "What do you expect me to say?"

"Did you really think of Jungkook?" You heard the tussle in his tone.

"Mhm," you recline. "Didn't you think about Seulgi?"

He laughs through his nostrils, the air gushing to your cheek. "Why would I think of her? I was kissing you. God, how oblivious can you get?"

"Well, maybe because you stopped me? You realized I'm not her so you stopped me."

It took a moment before he responded. "I didn't want you to stop. I just can't take you there."

"Take me where? Look, it's okay if you were thinking of Seulg-"

"My God, y/n. I was trying to control myself!"

"From what?"

"From fucking you," he half-yells.

There it was again, the fire building in you. Why did he have to bring this up again? You were close to forgetting everything - err, at least some of it.

"Y/n, I'm sorry if you felt like I was rejecting you. I can never do that." He scoots again. "Say something."

You had no clue what words you were trying to search for, all you wanted was to feel his lips on yours again. What do they taste like without the sweet drink lingering? How would it feel to kiss him in private? To kiss him in a comfortable place, somewhere no one can interfere?

There's only one way to find out.

"Then prove it."

He thinks for a moment before attaching his lips onto yours once again. It was like a taste you've been craving, and having his lips on yours again felt ecstatic. Without the drink, his lips tasted just the same, sweet and satisfying. He skims a hand to your thigh, while the other holds your nape. God bless the teenage hormones!

He pulls away, breathing raggedly. "On top of me." He taps your thigh and you oblige, sitting on his lap and returning your lips to his.

The kiss was running out, you want more. You want to feel more than just a kiss, it was insatiable. His sweatpants did no justice in hiding his hardening cock, softly poking on your entrance. But he kept his hands on your waist, trying his best not to grab your ass. You grunt, finally rolling your hips to feel that friction you've been needing.

He fails at controlling himself after hearing the noise you made, thrusting upwards to get the satisfaction he needed. His hand stops before the curved of your breast, needing an affirmation from you. For the mean time, he was entertaining himself by playing with your tongue. You earn a groan from him when you rub your pussy against the outline of his cock, he pulls away again to stare at his crotch, biting his lip.

"Did I do anything wrong?" you ask with so much worry.

"No, I just... I won't be able to stop if you keep doing that."

"Jimin, please," you beg, trailing his hands to your waiting breasts, moaning while you continuously rub yourself on him.

He watches you get yourself off with hooded eyes, his mouth open as he releases quiet moans himself. "You're doing so well, y/n, fuck." He pulls you again, biting your lower lip as he inserts one of his hand in your shirt, lifting your bra to pinch a nipple.

You were nearing your climax, and Jimin just kept watching without intention to take his clothes off. Slowing down, Jimin lifts your shirt right above your breasts, licking a nipple while he gropes the other.

You release a high-pitched whine, encouraging Jimin to twitch his dick. "Woah, you could do that?"

He giggles slightly, giving you a peck on the lips. "You're so adorable."

He thrusts again, pushing you further to your orgasm. Struggling to face him, he lowers your chin with his thumb, murmuring words you couldn't decipher at the moment, but they sounded comforting and sexy. With one last hump, muffling a loud moan in Jimin's shoulder, you find it hard to look in his eyes again. You could feel yourself throb in wetness, too ashamed to get off of Jimin only to find a wet spot on his gray sweatpants.

"It's okay, baby," he whispers as you pull away, resting back on your seat.

"Are you... Did you?" you stutter, currently having a hard time finding the right question to ask him.

He didn't. You saw the tip of his cock — it looks so good — bulging through the fabric, dry and desperate for attention.

"Hey, I'm fine. Don't worry about it." Nothing was fine for you, everything was embarrassing. You shouldn't have done that, you shouldn't have let your hormones get the best of you. You couldn't look him in the eyes, needing time to process your orgasm and what the hell you just did.

"I think you need to leave," you sternly command, "I need to-"

"I get it. Sorry." You regret telling him to leave because after his apology, he grabbed his things and actually left, giving you more the reason to regret everything.

The room was quiet, but you can still hear your reckless moans, wishing that the neighbors didn't hear any of it or else you're dead meat once your parents get home.  You glance at the teddy bear, immediately grabbing the soft toy to hug it.

"Why didn't you stop me?"

The proctor was Mrs. Cruz, the first to ruin your day. She walks a lot around the classroom for someone who's having back problems. From time to time, she'd have a sit behind the desk, typing slowly on her laptop keyboard. She would also readjust her thinly-framed glasses, tuck her dry dark hair behind her ear.

That's enough description of Mrs. Cruz, you're absolutely lost for words when it came to the unexpected essay. Who puts an essay in a Maths exam? Apparently, it's Mr. Uley. You've left a couple of blanks, and some were lacking solution. Mr. Uley also came up with the worst idea for an exam: right minus wrong.

Rolling the edge of the paper to find relief, you signaled to Sana who sits beside you, luckily. Leaning to the side, you slump your foot down ever so slightly so that Mrs. Cruz wouldn't notice. Sana looks at you, then to Mrs. Cruz who was busy finding a letter in her keyboard.

You mouthed, "Number six."

Sana furrows her brow, flipping through her pages to see her answer. She smiles, and you sigh inside your head, she has an answer.

"I didn't answer it," she whispers back, catching the crooked teacher's attention. Sana plays it cool, pretending to think while she rolls her pen in her fingertips.

Your world drops again, shit. You're most likely going to fail Trigonometry, and that means watching motivational videos on Youtube about blaming the education system and how it fails the students completely for being incompetent when you really just didn't study.

That was only the first exam, there were more to come. You have already lost your motivation, but you were confident to take Biology. You have all the reasons to be.

Jimin appears at the cafeteria from time to time, but you would ignore it. He was aware of how uncomfortable it have gotten between the both of you and he wasn't planning to make any move. Good thing Sana has stepped out of her diet and finally started to join you for lunch again. But it's not that much fun with Sana, because for every bite of your sandwich, she had to talk about how unhealthy it was and that you should change your diet too. But it's her or no one.

Well, Jungkook was one person to talk to other than Sana. Short talks with him aren't so bad, he was just too shy. You can't expect much from a tenth grade boy, but you've made a close friend in him.

Two days of examination felt longer than it should, and time for studying felt shorter before exams. The only thing you're having trouble with was coming up with a story. You missed Jimin and his scent, and you knew things would be better if your problem with him would just go away, but you can't bring yourself to talk to him and arrange things between your relationship. He wasn't doing any effort either to come talk with you.

Maybe it really is over. Maybe you really ruined everything. You can't blame it on your hormones itself, you wanted to cum on Jimin's lap, it was all on you. It was your choice, and you've come to the conclusion that you might have actually fallen for the school publication photographer. Shit, you tell yourself.

You shut your laptop, frustrated for not finishing yet again another draft. You decided to fill your stomach instead of forcing out a drabble, it always ends well when you're munching on something sweet. When you reached downstairs, your Dad was cheering for Christiano Ronaldo again. ESPN must've ran out of ideas and just kept showing reruns of the same game, still your dad was entertained by them even after long hours of working.

He glances at you while you open the fridge, unbothered to ask you how was school. When the door rings, you dropped the box of leftover donuts. You were a little hopeful of who it could be.

Seeing your dad remain in the same position of the couch, you proceeded to the doorstep with a glazed donut in your hand. It's not him, but it sure was a surprise to have Sana visit you during this ungodly hour for a school night. She's got her hair straightened and fixed, wearing a white skin-tight dress that stops on her mid-thighs. She looked glamoured up.

"The hell are you doing here?" you asked the blondie while the donut melts in your mouth. Your Dad turns for a second, but he goes back to watching.

"I'm picking you up, dummy. Daniel is hosting a party, you should definitely come."

"What? No, I'm busy."

"You're not busy. Exams are over so let's have a celebration. Your boyfriend's gonna be there."

"He's not my boyfriend! I couldn't care less if Jimin will be there, can you let me be?" Yes, you actually cared that Jimin will be there. You just can't get the idea of him having fun while you are left here confused and still thinking about last time.

Of course he was over it. You were just another girl he had on his dick. You thought you would've memorized Jimin's tactics by now, but you're still as naive as he knows you would be. Your lids lightened against your eyes, a tingly feeling creeping inside you but not in a good way. You could float and fall at the same time.

"Let's go to this stupid fucking party." You swore your dad's head turned, but that's the least of your worries.

You rush to your room, picking up whatever you find sexy, and immediately throwing it on. You wanted to be unexpected and spontaneous, everything Jimin thought you wouldn't be. When you wind up to the party, his mouth is gonna drop on the floor while you grind on some jock's crotch. Maybe you'll regret it in the morning, but you've already done enough of regrettable stupid things in a span of a week. What's one more stupid mistake?

Things don't always go as planned, that's why you're sitting next to Hoseok, a senior like yourself from another school, you can't remember. But the discussion was great while Sana plays Truth or Dare with the band geeks. He was in the middle of talking about his hiking with his very wealthy family, and you were in the middle of falling asleep hoping he won't notice your lids dozing off.

You've never caught a sight of Jimin in the party, and you've already come to the conclusion that Sana just said that to make you come. You hate the fact that she was successful in her attempt.

Irritation brushed your nerves, keeping you awake as you stare deeper into Hoseok's beautiful smile. You wanted to make your plan come true whether Jimin was here or not — which in this case, not.

Whoever was in charge of music, you were thankful. It was probably an indie party song, somewhere around Grouplove's genre. Now you were throwing your hands around Hoseok, his smile disappearing and turning into a smirk. You felt dirty, what has high school become?

It wasn't that one glass of tequila that made you sway in front of Hoseok, you just wanted to take your mind off of Jimin. You hiss at the thought of him, placing a soft kiss on Hoseok's neck. He pulls you close, but it didn't feel like how Jimin pulled you that night in the lot. It felt cold, Hoseok's hand wasn't homely. His scent was probably Old Spice, you used to love that scent, you could smell it from Jungkook back then.

This wasn't working. For the first time in your high school years, you've failed yourself to accomplish something — aside from your Trig exam. Hoseok wasn't grinding himself and you appreciate the chivalry. He was just sorta enjoying your sloppy tongue against his neck, and he loved the way you were cutely dancing in front of him.

It wasn't long 'till his hand trails down to your ass though, and he was gripping it tightly. Before you could react, he was moving away. And when you looked at him, he was staring behind you. A familiar hand traces your waist, and a sweet fragrance travels your nose.

"I didn't expect you to be here," Jimin speaks from behind before you turn to face him. Hoseok was gone and you didn't bother.

"Get your hand off me, Jimin." He doesn't let go, only gripping the curve of your waist tighter. He was holding a sippy cup in his other hand, moving to your front to get a better view of you.

"What did I do wrong?" In all your honestly, nothing. You pushed him away and he did well, but you just wished he could read your mind during that time like he always does.

"How was exams for you?" You drop the topic, trying not to think of your embarrassing "cumming undone" moment. He sips in the most attractive way. You remain your arms crossed.

"I think I did horrible. I'm pretty sure you did well, baby," he slurs, obviously drunk.

When his breath reached your nostrils, you can't deny the way you throbbed for his lips to just latch onto your neck.

"Don't baby me," you irked, earning a chocolate laugh from him.

"Why not?"

"Because you're drunk."

"What made you think I'm drunk? I'm very much sober." He grips you tighter, and you didn't insist, only attaching your hips to his groin. "I'm just lazy talking." He bites his lip, watching how your hips teased the front of his fly.

"Why did you leave?" you asked.

"I didn't want to, y/n. I just know you felt uncomfortable and I don't want to push you further."

There was silence before you could process his answer, nothing proper came up as he molds his hand to your ass. He was confident when he's drunk. Unlike Hoseok, it felt right.

So much caressing happened, heavy petting. And Jimin being the suspect, you can't help yourself. You just somehow found yourself tangled with him on the way upstairs looking for a room to do things seventh grade you despised. Fuck relationships and young love, right? But if Jimin could make your hormones rage like a sexually-deprived normal teenager, why not try?

Whoever Daniel was, he's one hell of a rich guy. Losing your virginity in a luxurious palace looking room sounds better than losing it in the backseat of a car after prom night. Good thing Jimin had good control of his dick, or else you would have been pumped in his brother's car at a parking lot in front of a KFC.

You pushed your thoughts away as Jimin had his fingers at the hem of your underwear, tugging it down slowly. The air fills the gap, for the first time in your life, your pussy ached out of lust. Being the patient man, he looks you in the eye for a second, waiting for a word.

"Do you really want this?" he asks, his index already forming circles around your inner thigh. "I'm so fucking hard for you right now. If you're not sure, tell me before I shove my dick right in your pussy."

You were never a fan of porn, not even a single bit. You would never waste time on horrible actors, but Jimin's words were straight out of a porn script. Yet they didn't draw you back, instead you squirmed under his fingertips.

"Please, Jimin."

He buries himself in your slit, latching his tongue against your clit.

"Oh," you exclaimed. It felt like that evening you were on Jimin's lap, except more intense and raw. There's nothing more that you want than for him to do it again.

"You like that?" he asked, but you ignored. His tongue was gentle, placing kitten licks on your sensitive bud, having you arched your back like a professional gymnast. Both his hands traveled to your breasts, groping them amidst the fabric. You place your hands on top of his, it felt romantic to hold them for reasons you can't explain. He leaves one of your breasts, feeling him near his finger in your entrance.

Your eyes widened, jumping at the sensation of something entering you. He affirms you by tightening his hold on your hands. Again, massaging your clit with his plump luscious lips.

"Baby," he whispers to your pussy, as if making a bond with it. Enjoying the curving of a single digit in your hole, he slowly eased in another one. "Are you taking it well?"

"Yes, yes. God, yes." You grope his hair, pushing him to your clit and you feel him smirk.

He adds another once you got comfortable, the sting passing away after a few more pumps. When he feels you nearing again, he pulls away. He winks as he removes his pants, kicking it down until his member sprung out.

You have seen a dick, of course. Well, if anatomy illustrations count. It looked scary, but it was Jimin. Thick and veiny is the proper way to describe it, he was right. Seulgi would never break up with him because of his dick, it wouldn't even make the list of why she had broken up with him. You stared at it for a while longer while Jimin prepares himself by putting on a show.

He positions himself in between your thighs, rubbing the head of his cock in your cunt. He kisses you, muffling your moans as he eases inside, in a very gentle way as if you were a butterfly that landed on the tip of his finger. Though it was tearing you apart, Jimin finds a away to make you comfortable by rolling his tongue against your jaw. It helped only a little, and when he moved smoothly, you whimper which he takes notice of.

"Jimin, wait," with such an embarrassed tone, but he comforted you by staring into your eyes, stopping himself no matter how hard it was. "I'm sorry. I just need—"

"No worries, I'm okay. Do you want to stop or not?"

"No, just wait."

He nods, the air he emits heating your face. He stares at your teary eyes, falling more than ever. He's never seen anything so precious, if only he could take a picture of such moment, but there are things that the camera can't see, much like words can't express.

You wrap your arms around him, signaling him to continue. He doesn't disappoint, he pushed again deep inside you, releasing a shaky groan to your ear. Every thrust felt euphoric, not a single one didn't give you pleasure. You clench around him, earning a nasally exhale from him.

"Chim-ah..." you trail, clawing at the skin of his back. His face wrinkled, and it was the sexiest thing you've seen. "Feels so good."

He sped up his pace, and just like before, you were cumming around him. But he motivates you, unbothered whether he was finished or not. He sends you to your orgasm, legs clinging tighter around him. He watches you bite your lip to suppress the loud moan, still thrusting harder to ride the high.

Then he throws himself beside you, and this time you wanted to return the favor. You get on your knees which had Jimin's eyes flutter open, yet still hiding his excitement. Once you grip his length, he bites his bottom lip, trying to remain his calm. He focuses on you, propping on his elbows to see you better.

"You don't have to do this," he comforted.

"I want to. I'm no expert so please—"

"Shh, everything you do is sexy," he whispered, placing his thumb on your cheek to give you the warmth you needed.

Here goes nothing, you tell yourself. You slide a thumb over the head of his shaft before rolling your tongue from the bottom to the top. I should've watched porn more, I'm such an amateur.

Jimin saw the doubt in your eyes, giving you a sly smile before he speaks. "It feels good."

You swaddle his balls, finally pushing your lips further down his cock, softly sucking. You can taste yourself, it felt dirty doing something like it, but when you saw Jimin's eyes pinned on you while his face crunches in pleasure, you couldn't help but be motivated. You pumped the rest of his cock, latching you tongue on every visible vein which had Jimin grunting. You hollowed your cheeks while your tongue ripples inside, tickling the edges of his cock.

"Shit, y/n. You're going fucking—" he groaned, not being able to articulate proper sentences.

Then he explodes right into your mouth without a warning except for a hand in your hair, thrusting his hips upwards which made you gag. It was salty and bitter—not really your definition of swallowable. You still gulped it down, and Jimin laughs at your reaction.

Patting the space beside him, you slump down. You've always thought sweaty tangled bodies were disgusting, but it was actually comforting and warm.

That's the first night of hearing Jimin's cute little snores.

A flash to your face wakes you up, and through heavy lids you saw Jimin in his usual black pants, topless of course. You panicked this time, not because of your sleeping face but because you were just as naked.

"Jesus, Jimin! Delete that!" you demanded, the boy only grins.

"Just for me, trust me." He sits beside you on the bed, giving you a smack on the lips.

Your breath smelled like the night before, but Jimin didn't care. Having his warm body right next to yours was different, and even though your values don't really support what you were doing around him, you still wrapped them around his waist. Jimin does the same, the sound of his breathing calmed your thoughts.

You've always wondered why couples spend a lot of time together, like don't they run out of things to say? However, the silence in the room spoke something to you. No words need to be exchanged to let each other know the thoughts of the other.

Jimin gave you a ride home (with his brother's car) at four in the morning, kissing you goodbye, leaving you smiling as you walk to your room. You want to see him again, maybe even have a breakfast with him.

Wait, what? I'm not in love with him! This is just a huge crush.

You diminish the smile, proceeding to the shower to wash away his scent. Shaking your head as you think about actually falling in love. No! You're too young for that, right? Though the hot shower didn't really help you scrub the emotions off, it did give you the time to deny.

English was dry, and so were the other classes. If only Sana came today, maybe you would learn another nutrition fact about your usual chicken sandwich. Also it's not to your surprise that Jimin joins you for lunch and gave you a chocolate box. You've known him for years and he even went as far as buying a bouquet for Seulgi as a gratitude after their sexual escapades.

"You're giving me Ferrero Rocher for fucking you last night?"

He snickers, one that could make your cheeks burn. "Can you— What's wrong with you?"

"You're acting like I'm a new person. Jimin, I'm still your best friend," you say without expecting your tone to be as high.

"Babe, just open it for me." You roll your eyes at the nickname.

You lift the lid of the heart-shaped box, a note taped in the middle of the lid surprises you. Swooning a little, not trying to show Jimin your actual reaction.

“Do me the extraordinary honor of becoming my prom date?”

"No," you sighed. "I mean, no way this is real."

Jimin's gaze falls over, that look of hurt surrounding his face. "Hey, I'm not rushing you."

"This is just stupid, no offense. You know me, Jimin. I know you more than anything. I know you still think about her," you protest, not daring to look him in the eyes and just staring at the note.

"I'm not forcing you, y/n. I'm just offe-"

You scoffed, but you kept your composure. "I'm not going. It will be a waste of time. I'm really sorry. You can just ask her instead."

"I like you, y/n. I don't even think about her when I'm with you." You grew nervous at the thickness of his voice.

"Because that's what it is. You move on easily because you're not really in love, kids like us don't know the meaning of love. Stop pretending that for every sex you've had, you're in love."

"Jimin," Seulgi appears behind him, clearing her throat.

"I'm gonna go," you tell him with a broken voice, giving a thin smile towards Seulgi. You take the box half-heartedly, chocolates can't go to waste.

That was the last time you spoke to Jimin and from time to time, he'd give a call but you never answered any of them. Things slowly went back to normal and finally, you've finished your feature before Min Yoongi spams you with e-mails. The outcome never really satisfied you, but it was better than nothing.

In my long years of high school, the word "love" had never crossed my mind. A week ago, I was assigned to write about falling in love at a young age. But the truth is, falling for someone during these early years will never happen. Love takes so much more than just a spoken word. I know, you're in love with your partner right now, but let me tell you this one thing: you're not. These butterflies, all the fluttering inside our stomachs, they're most likely just happiness and excitement. College will come, and all the emotions we feel now will be forgotten. So, what's the point in falling in infatuation? Save yourself the emotional roller coaster, love in high school is the last thing you should think of. There's so much more to love in the world, like baseball or cheerleading. It doesn't always have to be a person. The right time will arrive, and you're actually going to fall in love. But not when we're still struggling to solve for the x, or when we can't come up with an essay. Love is everywhere, but our young little hearts won't recognize that just yet. Just like what Ricky Nelson had said, "We haven't the right to decide for ourselves, dear, what's black and what's white."

"This sucks." Sana slams the paper on the lunch table, giving you a judging look. "I can't believe Yoongi allowed this to be published."

You roll your eyes, cringing at the sight of your highly-disliked feature. "I know, okay? No need to remind me."

"Well, everybody in campus hates you now for thinking that their relationship is all just a joke to you. It's not like they care about your opinion, just that they feel humiliated. You could have done better." Her expression was disappointed, aware of what you're hiding. "You know Jimin submitted your picture right? The one in the cafe sayin-"

"It's published. What can I do?" You cut her off before she could make you feel bad about Jimin, munching on your chips as you slouch on your seat.

Sana puts her hand behind your back, straightening your posture. "I know you can write better. You're just trying to run away from your inspiration."

You give her a dirty look before speaking with your mouth full. "Shut up, I'm not running from anything."

She laughs, caressing your back. "Oh, my y/n, you can't lie from me." She smiles, her perfect teeth annoying you.

"Who cares if they don't like my feature? They go ahead and write their own, I don't care."

"You're so narrow-minded. Are you sure you're not coming to prom? I can still get you a dress in case you change your mind."

Right, you almost forgot. Prom was tomorrow, and you're kind of regretting not going after finding out that Jungkook will be there to serve the food. But seeing Jungkook wouldn't be worth it if you will be seeing Jimin dance with Seulgi all night long.

"I'm not changing my mind, Sana." You stood, gathering your stuff before leaving Sana behind in the cafeteria, not wanting to talk about how excited she is for prom.

You spent the next day watching reruns on ESPN much like your father, nodding along as he complains how a professional athlete couldn't make a single goal. He was too absorbed by the sports in front of him, he couldn't notice the distress in your eyes. There's no hope from your mother either who was busy finishing her reports. You groan.

Then it's prom night, you flop down to your messy bed, staring at the untouched chocolate heart-shaped box Jimin had given you two weeks ago. You breathe deeply, pulling yourself from the bed to approach the partly golden box. When you open it again, the message was still there—it's not like it's going to disappear over time. But it felt like yesterday, the chocolate looked good as new, and even smelled as sweet as... him.

You jump through your skin when you hear your mom opens the door without giving a quick knock, making you jolt the box to the floor.

"Mom!" you yell, and she broke into a fit of laughter.

"Sorry, hun. What would you like for dinner?" she asks in her velvet voice, warming the cold night.

"I'm not really eating. You and Dad can decide." Your eyes wander around the room, throwing your ego to ask her a question. "Mom?"

She comes back to the door, leaning on the door frame with one of her hands on her waist. "Yes?"

"This will sound really stupid, but" — you exhale — "how did you know you were in love with Dad?"

She giggles, making you feel more ashamed of the question. She moves to your side, sitting beside you before she speaks. "Well, I didn't know it. I felt it. One day, I hated the sound of his snores, then I woke up next realizing I can't live without them. There's so many things I hated about your dad, but I still love what I hate about him. By the way, your dad had the worst perfume back in the day, but now I can't breathe without it."

You chuckle, suppressing the twinge of dismay filling your mind. "I feel like I made a mistake of letting this boy go."

She gasps. "Why didn't you tell me about this boy?"

"That's not really the point right now," you laugh.

"That's what kids do. You guys make mistakes and you keep making 'em. If you love him, then go for it, honey."

You choke. "You think I love him?"

"Don't you? You don't have to love a person to chase 'em, you chase 'em because you want to love them." She sighs. "You're young, you're not supposed to make the perfect decisions just yet. Don't stress about whether you love this boy or not. If it doesn't work out, you can use the lesson for the next."

"That's more than I need, Mom. Thank you."

She gives you a squeeze on your shoulder before leaving you room.

I screwed up.

You pick the box from the floor, and a picture falls out from it. It took you a while before you could analyze it. A black and white photo of a girl reading a book, very similar to the one in the museum. What caught your attention is you knew who it was, the clothes, the book, the face. It was you back in eighth grade during the book fair, you had your eyes pinned on Wuthering Heights.

With heart racing, you flip the picture to reveal the message behind it.

"To the first girl I fell in love with :)"

Your mouth was left open, frozen in place as you try to process your emotions. You're the girl Jimin was talking about, you were Jimin's eighth grade crush. He had feelings for you just like you had feelings for him back then, and it all came back when you started hanging out with him again.

You wasted no time getting into your hoodie, running downstairs which made your mom look at you in horror.

"Mom, I need the car keys. I made a mistake." Without a nod from her, you grab the car keys and ran to her forbidden Civic.

It's been long since she have let you borrow the car, but it's now or never. It seemed like the perfect timing to tell him how you actually feel, under chandeliers and surrounded by young couples dancing in love. You weren't even sure if he decided to show up to prom as well after your hurtful rejection in front of Seulgi. Or maybe he had changed his mind, choosing to take your advice and actually taking Seulgi to prom.

You brushed the negativity off, pulling in Chelsea Hotel. A parking valet stopping you from entering the hotel, but you shove him from you, quickly running towards the venue. Poor guy just trying to do his job.

You exhale, trying to catch your breath. The room glimmers, a disco ball instead of a chandelier spins on the ceiling. You roll your eyes, your school has always been a disappointment when it comes to decoration. You seek through the students, searching for the pale boy. You only found Sana who was already waving at you, eyes shinning in joy. You give her a sly smile, continuing to look for Jimin. And you found him by the photo booth, approaching him with tiny steps.

"Hi," you greeted.

He looks up from the camera and your words were already backing away, throat thinning when you meet his eyes.

"I am sorry for what I said. I was being narrow and stupid. I shouldn't have said those, you know?" You voice cracks in every word, and he goes back to his camera. "Jimin, please."

You saw him suppress a smile, but it wasn't enough. He was still fiddling with his tripod, fake fixing the stand.

"Fine!" you blurt, walking away from him.

You caught a lot of eyes staring at your outfit as you approach the stage, and you felt nauseated when you reached for the microphone. A blond girl furrows her brows at you, pointing towards her bandmates.

"What are you playing?" you confidently ask.

"Excuse you?" she returns, annoyance obvious in her tone.

"Trust me, I'll let you sing. Just tell me what song are you playing."

"Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer," she says without certainty.

"Look, I can get you in front of the page of our next publication issue. Everyone in the school will know your band, just do me one favor."

She turns to her bandmates and they all nodded. "Spit it out."

"Can you please... play the intro while I have my speech?"

"You got it."

When you said that, you didn't expect them to actually play the intro immediately. But there's no turning back, all eyes were already on you except for Jimin. Everybody gave you looks, obviously aware that you were the one that wrote that hateful feature.

You pat the mic, feedback traveling through everybody's ears. Then you sighed again, prepping yourself.

"I know I've hurt some of you because of what I wrote. I'm sorry to everyone. I was the one wrong, I shouldn't belittle these emotions because we're young. I've come to the realization that whatever we feel now will always matter even in college, even when we're old. Falling in love today doesn't make anyone less of a person, we're young and we're supposed to make mistakes. Fall in love now and fall in love again, it's how stories are made. And to that person I specifically broke, I think I like you." You breathe, picking in your nails. "So, Park Jimin, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

You bit your lip, waiting for the audience's response to your corny speech. And your back straightens when they started clapping, some even yelled "Fuck yeah!" which made you laugh in embarrassment. Your eyes couldn't find Jimin at the moment, and you gave blondie the microphone, letting her continue her performance. You have some deals to make with Yoongi for the next front page.

You walk down the stairs, trying to calm the race of your heart. A hand pulls your waist, plump luscious lips devouring yours. Sweet fragrance entering your senses, you knew who it was.

"That was the cringiest shit you've said," he comments. "I knew you would come."

You roll your eyes. "I think I owe you a meal."

Jimin puts his hand at the small of your back, directing you towards the photo booth. "No, you owe me a story."

(unedited)

[vs-redemption]

Hey, im not sure if your requests are open if not ignore this lol but do you think you can do a part two of finding out their unknown child is/was being abused by their mother with Shouto and any other character you would like? (May I ask if Shouto's child could be a girl if it's not too much? Im soft when it comes to him having a daughter🥺) Sorry for being a bother if requests are closed. I can't find where it says if it is or not. Thank you!❤

From Cindy: I’ve written so many of these now! I hope they’re not getting repetitive. It was really nice writing Todoroki (I’ve been thinking about him with a kid recently anyway) And I chose Dabi as the second character because the only other villain I did this scenario for was Shigaraki.

A Surprise Meeting (Todoroki and Dabi meet their abused child)

You can read the same scenario but with Bakugo, Iida, and Aizawa HERE You can read the same Scenario with Hawks, Fatgum and Shigaraki HERE

Warning:⚠️Angst, Child Abuse, mentions of murder/killing⚠️

Shoto Todoroki

Winter was in full effect as Shoto made his way home after his evening patrols. There was a thin layer of snow covering the ground already, and with the rate in which the white fluff was currently coming down, he predicted there would be even more to trudge through when he went to work in the morning. He decides to stop into the nearest convenience store to pick up something hot to eat. He wasn’t particularly cold since he was able to warm himself up pretty well with his quirk, but the pangs of hunger after a long day of work could not be ignored. He sighs in disappointment when he sees that the yakisoba bread is out of stock before going up to the counter and asking for a few steamed meat buns out of the glass case next to the register.

After purchasing his snack he went back outside into the snowy weather to continue his journey home. The sun had already set, so he took his time to enjoy the city streets which were decorated with holiday lights. A small bubble of excitement formed in his chest as he remembered the Christmas party he’d been invited to by one of his classmates from his days back in UA. After graduation, they’d all split up to start their own agencies around the country, so they tried to do something fun once a year as an excuse to see each other again and catch up.

“Mommy, can I have one of those?” the tiny voice pulls Shoto from his day dreaming and he looks across the street to see a mother and daughter making their way through the snow. The girl was really young, no more than five or six years old.

“No!” the mother’s answer comes out harsh and the little girl slumps her head.

“Okay,” the girl sighs and they continue walking. Shoto keeps watching them for moment just out of habit. After all, he was a pro-hero, so it was natural for him to be concerned over a woman and her child waking around after dark.

“Hurry! Up!” The mom suddenly snaps and yanks the daughter forward by the arm. The aggressive behavior makes Shoto flinch, especially when the little girl stumbles over her clunky snow boots and loses her footing. He knew parents lost patience with their children sometimes, but he couldn’t help the memories of his own childhood that resurfaced when he saw things like that.

“Sorry mommy,” the girl yelps when the woman pulls her back up. “But my feet are getting cold.”

“I don’t care if your feet are cold,” the mother lowers her voice. “Walk faster or I’m just going to leave you here in the snow to freeze! What do you think about that?”

Something about the woman’s voice was familiar to Shoto, but he couldn’t see who she was due to the fact she was bundled up in her coat and scarf. The way she treated her child, however, left a sour taste in his mouth. He wasn’t sure if it was his place to interfere though.

“No, please don’t leave me!” The little girl begins to sniffle and struggle harder to keep up with the mother’s pace. She grabs on to the woman’s coat so that she won’t get left behind.

“Stop hanging on me!” The woman whirls around and raises her hand angrily above her head. Shoto can’t stop himself from crossing the street to step in when he sees this. Unfortunately, he doesn’t make it in time to stop the woman from slapping the child, causing her to fall back into the snow while cupping her stinging cheek in her hands.

“Excuse me,” Shoto wasn’t even sure what to say. “Is everything all right?”

“Mind your own business!” The woman turns to face him but her eyes go wide when she sees who’d approached her. Shoto reels back in surprise as well. He knew this woman. He’d been in a relationship with her years ago, but she’d disappeared one day without ever saying why.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Shoto felt extremely confused. “What happened?”

“I got pregnant,” she shrugs as if that weren’t a huge deal. Shoto’s eyes glance back to the tiny girl who had finally stood up and brushed the snow off her pants. She looks up at him and he feels the air leave his lungs. Her watery eyes were identical to his, and her hair was white with just a single lock in the front which was the same color as her mother’s. He had no idea what to do or say, so he simply reaches into the grocery bag to take out a hot meat bun to hand to her. She snatches up the food eagerly and starts munching away while Shoto looks back at his ex.

“What didn’t you tell me?” He asks, trying to keep all his emotions in check as he processes the information.

“Because I had plans for how I wanted to raise her,” the mother gestures to the girl. “And I didn’t want you to stop me. The people in your family tend to have powerful quirks. I wanted to capitalize on that, and I knew you wouldn’t like it.”

Flashbacks of the torturous trainings Endeavor had put him through as a child played in Shoto’s mind and he found himself getting angry. Just what had this woman done to the daughter he’d never even known about?

“Oh, calm down.” She says, noticing the change in the atmosphere. “It all backfired on me anyway. The girl got her quirk a few months ago and it’s nowhere near as powerful as yours or your father’s. Why do you think I’m back in town? I was planning on dropping her off on your doorstep soon anyway.” Shoto looks back at his little girl, sadness and rage consuming him. It hurt to know that she’d suffered with such a heartless parent for so long, just as he had.

“How could you talk like that about your own child?” Shoto asks, looking back at the mother.

“Don’t waste your time trying to make me feel bad,” She crosses her arms over her chest. “If you want her, take her. Otherwise I’ll find an orphanage to drop her off at.” Shoto was quick to shoot down the second option as he reaches down to lift the girl into his arms and cradle her against his chest. He feels a surge of love chase away the negative feelings in his heart as the small girl snuggles against the warmth of his left side.

He exchanges contact information with the mother so that he could get ahold of her when it came time to do all the legal paperwork that would allow him to adopt his daughter. With her cooperation, hopefully the process would go smoothly.

“Can I have another meat bun?” The girl asks shyly has he makes his way home with her in his arms so she wouldn’t have to be in the snow anymore.

“Yes, you can.” Shoto hands her the entire bag. “From now on, you can have anything you want.”

Dabi

Dabi didn’t always hang out in back alleys in the middle of the night, but when he did it was because the rest of the League of Villains had driven him to a point where, if he didn’t go off to cool down somewhere, he was liable to send them all into early graves. If he was honest with himself, the idea wasn’t without merits. There wasn’t a single one of his criminal comrades that didn’t annoy the ever loving daylights out of him. He had the misfortune though of needing them to achieve his wish of fulfilling the doctrine envisioned by the hero killer, Stain. It was for that one single reason that he didn’t end them all.

His self-imposed solitude worked wonders for a short time. The coolness of the night felt good against the burned flesh on his face and arms, but it was quiet times like these when bitter memories tended to creep into his mind and remind him of the reason he was even in the condition he was. He hated how difficult it was to just get a single moment’s peace. If he wasn’t being nagged half to death by the league, his mind was torturing him with images of his messed up past. That was the real reason behind his burning hatred. Sure, he had no problem killing as many heroes as dared to cross his path, but there was only one life that would really calm the bloodlust that constantly consumed him.

The sound of soft footsteps alerts Dabi to the presence of someone approaching. They were trying and failing to be sneaky, but he pretends to be oblivious while using his peripherals to size up the intruder. He wanted to laugh when he gets a glimpse of the form of a young boy, probably no older than seven or eight. He decided to end the kid’s ridiculous ploy before he ended up embarrassing himself.

“Didn’t your mom ever teach you not to play in dark alleys, kid?” Dabi doesn’t even bother to look at the boy who’d froze as soon as he realized he’d been caught.

“My mom’s dead,” the boy snaps and Dabi notes the vengeful tone of his voice.

“That sucks,” he says in a way that clearly showed his disinterest. Recently, Dabi’s only victims had been the scum of society. They were people who he considered so useless he couldn’t even be bothered to let them live after rejecting their pleas to join the League of Villains. “If you’re looking for revenge, I doubt it was me who killed her. And if it was, trust me when I say you’re better off.”

“I know you didn’t kill her,” the boy sounded more confident now, “because I did.” The confession throws Dabi off just a little, and he finds himself intrigued.

“Wow, kid.” He says, still sounding dismissive. “That’s pretty messed up.”

“Not as messed up as being abandoned by your father before you’re even born, and then spending your entire childhood getting slapped around by a deadbeat mom!” The kid’s voice cracks in the middle of his rant, betraying the vulnerability he was trying to hide.

“Oh,” Dabi deadpans. He was done with this conversation now. The boy’s words were seeping into his brain and poking at old traumatic wounds that were better left forgotten. If this child was out looking to cut down his father in cold blood, that was something Dabi could unfortunately relate to and understand completely.

“Well,” he speaks again once the kid failed to take the hint that he should scram. “Bothering me isn’t going to help you. If you die right here in this alley, you’ll never get the chance to fight your old man.”

Suddenly, a wave of heat rolls through the air and the entire alley lights up in eerie blue light. The familiar glow finally elicits a response from Dabi who widens his eyes and finally turns to look at the boy directly. He doesn’t know what to think when he sees bright blue flames dancing in the boy’s palms and around his arms. In the light of the fire, Dabi notices the way the boy’s brilliant blue eyes stare him down with a predatory glare that he knew all too well. It was all evidence leading him to the conclusion that he’d accidentally gotten some poor soul pregnant during his promiscuous mid-teen years. He wasn’t going to bother asking the name of the kid’s mom, he probably wouldn’t remember it anyway.

“It looks like you really drew the short stick when it comes to parents, kid.” Dabi takes a few steps towards the boy whose fire only grows with intensity the closer he gets. “I’m not sure if this’ll make you feel any better, but I can’t be blamed for abandoning someone I never knew existed.” The boy tenses up, looking unsure about what Dabi was trying to say.

“If you knew, would you’ve stayed?” He asks through clenched teeth.

“Probably not,” Dabi admits shamelessly. He kept his tone even although there was an inkling of jealousy worming its way up his spine. The boy had been wielding his blue flames for a decent amount of time now, with no hint that he was taking any damage. When Dabi had been his age, he’d already had permanent skin and nerve damage from the way his sweltering flames tore at his own body.

“You’re a monster!” The boy accuses before waving his arm to send a billowing blast of fire at his father. Dabi countered with his own burst of blue flames that knocked the boy right off his feet and onto his back. The boy scrambled to back away, but Dabi was looming menacingly over him in the blink of an eye.

“I’ve been called worse,” the villain says flatly while placing his boot on the boy’s stomach to keep him from getting away. He leans down so that his son could look into his face and understand the mistake he’d made by coming after him.

“Are you going to kill me?” the boy asks while trying to push Dabi’s foot off of him so he could breathe more comfortably.

“No,” the answer slips out before Dabi can even consider the alternative. “Not unless you try to threaten me again.” He puts a little more pressure onto his foot causing the boy to winch in discomfort. “That’s why you’re going to get out of here and never come looking for me again. You got that?” The boy nods his head obediently and Dabi removes his boot.

“I’ve got nothing to offer you,” he admits while the boy scrambles back to his feet. “Except more of the same miserable existence you’ve known until now.” The boy opens his mouth to speak, the confidence he’d shown before was long gone, but Dabi didn’t want to hear his pleading.

“Get out of here,” he allows his self-destructive flames to erupt all over his body, “now.” The boy didn’t need to be told twice. He understood the threat. He turned on his heel and ran from the alley. Dabi watched the retreating form of his son until he disappeared into the night. He takes a second to stare down at his scared hands as his brain comes to terms with what just happened. He now knew that he had a child out there in the world, but maybe it was best to tuck that knowledge away with the rest of the memories he tried so desperately to suppress. At the end of the day, it didn’t really change anything anyway.

[reinerispretty]

groceries. (sokka x f!reader) modern AU

hello!!! i have been wanting to write this for a while. this is based off of one of my favorite songs :) i am sorry if you don’t like modern au’s but i just thought it would make more sense with the song!! it is called groceries and it’s by mallrat!! give it a listen :D

read part 2 here!

Real sorry about your broken heart I'm trying to walk on broken glass Do it all again for art Like had to write a song about it

(Y/N) walked up the concrete steps and four flights of stairs to Sokka’s apartment. By the time she reached his hall, her legs were aching, but she pushed through and walked down the hall to the dark grey door with the golden 4D loosely hanging from a screw. She knocked hard against the door, just in case he was listening to music, and tapped the hanging metal to make it swing. 

The door slowly opened to reveal Sokka, wearing a baggy light blue sweatshirt and grey sweatpants. (Y/N) smiled sadly as she stared at him. His eyes were puffy, like he had been crying, and he wouldn’t meet her eyes. Her fingers tightened around the bag that was slung on her shoulder. 

“Can I come in?” Sokka shrugged, letting her into his apartment. It was oddly...clean. She had been here many times before and had never seen it this clean: no take out boxes strung across the counters, no clothes strung across the floor. It was like he didn’t even live here anymore. 

“Katara told me what happened,” she said quietly as she took a seat on the couch. Sokka scoffed. 

“Katara needs to mind her own business.” 

“Your business is her business, Sokka. She cares about you.” He stood with his back to the door, still not looking at her. She stood, dropping her bag on the floor and moving into the kitchen. “Have you eaten anything?” 

He shrugged. “I need to go to the store.” (Y/N) opened his fridge to find a single papaya on the top shelf. 

“I’ll take you.” She slung her bag over the shoulder. “Come on, it’s only a block away.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It looks like I do.”

I'll go if you go, if you're cool with that I'll go if you go, I have hope that you know that I'll go if you go, if you're cool with that I'll go if you go, I have hope that you know that

Sokka sighed, grabbing his keys and wallet before they both went down the stairs. When they got outside, Sokka winced at the bright light. “When was the last time you went outside?” He turned his head away from her, avoiding her gaze again. It broke her heart, seeing him like this. Sokka was normally the sunshine in everyone’s day. Funny, outgoing, optimistic. She couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t smiled at her. 

They walked down the sidewalk side by side. She could tell that his mind was elsewhere, as she had to pull him out of the way of people on multiple occasions. “Thanks,” He mumbled as he pulled his arm away. (Y/N)’s fingers curled into her palm, which dropped to her side. She checked her phone to avoid having to start conversation. A message from Katara: Is he opening up yet? 

(Y/N) dropped her phone back into her bag as they walked into the grocery store. Sokka grabbed a cart, slumping over the railing as he followed (Y/N) through the store. She grabbed him the usual: bread, some cereal, fruits and veggies. She turned back to look at him. “What else do you need?” 

“Um...” He gestured lazily to the other side of the aisle. “Fruit snacks.” (Y/N) smiled, just a bit. 

“Mott’s or Welch’s?” She held up both boxes. Sokka thought for a moment before answering. 

“Welch’s.” (Y/N) scrunched her nose in disgust. “What’s wrong with Welch’s?” 

“Nothing, if you have bad taste.” She tossed the box into the cart, laughing at Sokka’s hurt expression as they moved onto the next aisle.

I just wanna get groceries I'll pray you wanna get close to me I'll give it some, give it some, give it some time But I think we're supposed to be And if you wanna get groceries And if you wanna get close to me Just gimme some, gimme some, gimme some sign I think that we're supposed to be

They moved onto the freezer aisle. (Y/N) grabbed almost every frozen meal under the sun. She returned to the cart with her arms full, dropping the meals on top of the rest of the groceries. “That’s a lot,” Sokka said. 

“It’ll be easy to pop in the microwave,” She explained. “From how your apartment looked it seemed like you couldn’t be bothered to feed yourself.” 

Sokka looked down at his hands. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.” (Y/N) stared at him for so long that an old lady grumpily scooted her cart past them. 

“Sorry,” (Y/N) said quietly, but she wasn’t sure if she was apologizing to Sokka or the old lady. 

They checked out at the front and then carried armfuls of groceries back to his apartment. As they walked up all the stairs, (Y/N) wished that Sokka would move to a building like Aang’s, with a nice elevator. Instead he chose the building with the most stairs in the universe. 

They finally reached Sokka’s apartment and placed all of the groceries on the counter. (Y/N) began putting things in their proper place. She had been here enough times to know where he liked his things. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he said quietly. She didn’t turn back to look at him this time. 

“I know. I want to.” She moved to the stove and put a teapot on the burner. “Sit down, I can make us some tea.” 

He would normally argue playfully with her, but this time he didn’t say anything. He sat on the couch quietly and pulled his feet up, resting his elbow on the armrest. 

“Why’d you come?” 

“Because Katara called me. Asked me to check in on you.” 

“But why you?” (Y/N) cleared her throat. 

“She knows I care about you.” The teapot started to shout, so she took it off the burner and poured it into two cups with tea bags. She brought one over to Sokka and sat in the rocking chair beside the couch. There was so much space in between them. It wasn’t normal. They used to be so close. She remembered sitting on that exact same couch with him, laughing at one of his jokes while something on Netflix played in the background. Now it felt like she was sitting with a stranger. 

I wish that I could let it pass I don't mind that you put it last I made it worse, I put you first We're laughing like it didn't hurt I'm in the dirt, I'll make it work though

Sokka stared at the mug in front of him. It was a cheesy souvenir shop mug that read “World’s Best Boyfriend” and as sad as it was, it brought tears to his eyes. He used his sleeves to wipe them away before (Y/N) saw, but he was too late. She came to his side immediately and sat close to him. She didn’t want to encroach on his personal space, but she wanted to let him know that she was there. 

“I didn’t read the mug before I gave it to you, I’m sorry,” She whispered quietly. Sokka shook his head. 

“It’s fine, really, I’m fine.” He gave one large sniff before turning toward her, but he still wouldn’t meet her eyes. 

“Sokka...” She pulled her knees up on the couch. “It’s okay to not be okay.” 

“I just-” He wiped his nose. “Why did she have to leave?”

(Y/N) let out a large sigh. The distance between her and Sokka wasn’t without reason. After years of pining, he and Yue finally started dating. They were a cute couple, (Y/N) had to admit, but it hurt her too much to see them together. She had been in love with Sokka for as long as she could remember. They had even kissed once, a year ago, at Zuko’s birthday celebration. There had been alcohol involved, but (Y/N) had thought it might change things. A week later, he and Yue started dating and (Y/N) stopped coming around Sokka’s place as much. She would see him at gatherings and act like she was happy, but on the inside her heart was heavier than ever. She separated herself from their friend group for a while and whenever anyone asked she just claimed she was really busy from school. It was easier that way, not seeing anyone.  

But just as quickly as they got together, they separated. Yue packed all of her belongings and left without so much as a goodbye. And while she felt a little relieved when Katara had told her their relationship had ended, she couldn’t help but feel so sad for Sokka. He was the kindest human she had ever known and he didn’t deserve to feel like he had done something wrong. 

“Maybe she needed a fresh start,” (Y/N) said. 

“Without me.” He played with the frayed edges of his sleeves. 

“Sokka, Yue loved you a lot. Loved you so much that sometimes it made me sick. But sometimes, people need to leave to get their own stuff figured out. I guarantee it wasn’t because of you.” 

“How can you be so sure?” 

“Because you treated her like she hung up the moon and stars for you.” (Y/N) felt a lump forming at her throat. Whenever she thought about them, it made her sad. “You’re a good person, Sokka. And Yue knows that. But take it from me, maybe it just wasn’t the right time.” 

Sokka looked into (Y/N’s) eyes for the first time that day. He stared at her for a few moments and she stared right back, her gave immovable. Sokka was a go-with-the-flow kind of person, but (Y/N) was more of a rock. She especially needed to be a rock for him right now. 

“I’m glad Katara called you today,” He admitted. “I missed having you around.” 

A smile rose on (Y/N’s) lips. “Me too.” 

This sucks, I'm lovesick, too important to rush this I'd miss our kiss if it ever left my lips No one I know is sticky on my mind when I go Except ya, but you're just friends with Miss Independent And this sucks, I'm lovesick, too important to rush this I'd miss our kiss if it ever left my lips No one I know is sticky on my mind when I go Heart broke, but I spend it, 'cause I'm Miss Independent

---

Tag List!

@beifongsss , @aimee1602 , @musicalkeys , @aroyaldarknessblr , @mdgrdians 

[gubes-sweaters]

Never Be the Same

Authors Note: Before you read this please don't kill me it's left off on a cliffhanger on purpose and I will write a second part soon. Also I write about what happened in Mexico (spoiler alert if you haven't seen season 15) I know that Lindsay didn't actually do anything (Cat mentions it in the episode date night) but at the time Spencer didn't know so I wrote it as such. 

Content warning: arguing, light smut, brief mention of physical and sexual assault, spoilers for season 12+.

Word count: 1.6k

It's been officially three months since Spencer has been home from prison. I know things will never be the same and I don't expect him to be the person he once was, but he's been incredibly distant. Between being manhandled by fellow inmates in prison and feeling violated after what Lindsey Vaughn did in Mexico I can understand why he's been so distant. Most people don't see Spencer as a cuddly person, but that's only because they aren't in a relationship with him. Most people think Spencer is completely averse to human touch, but once he gets close to you he has no problem with it. In fact, when I met Spencer he was so attention and touch starved that he practically followed me around like a puppy for the first couple of months we started dating. 

Normally we would wake up together in the morning when he was home and I would cook breakfast while he would stand behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist swaying back-and-forth to music. He would also often plant kissed up and down my neck, side of my face, and the crown of my head. If he was still home by the time lunch came around we would still be right next to each other either being on the couch watching Doctor Who or snuggling up and reading books together. Spencer was always a bit of a homebody only because he spent so much time away from home on cases. When he was finally home he didn't wanna leave until he had to. 

Now most mornings when I wake up Spencer is facing away from me. I wake up only to make breakfast separate from him, sometimes we eat together sometimes we don't. Now we kind of just live separate lives. Sometimes I even make excuses to leave the apartment because I don't feel welcomed in there. I want this to change, I need this to change.

It's not for my own selfish reasons well not completely, but I know if I let this continue Spencer and I aren't going to last much longer. He will push himself away further and further until he's in a rut that he can't come out of. I miss him and I miss us. I decided this morning to try and convince him to go out to dinner with me tonight. Today he doesn't have any classes to teach and he's still on his sabbatical, so he has no excuse as to why he couldn't when it comes to being busy. That leads me to where we are right now, a typical Sunday morning and I am making breakfast while he’s in the living room planning for his next lecture. 

"So how do you feel about maybe going out to eat tonight?" I asked while setting a plate of bacon, eggs, and pancakes right in front of him. I take a seat next to him on the couch waiting for his response.

"Oh... uh... yeah, sure I don't see why not." He says still engrossed in his papers. He flips through them so fast that he doesn't even fully pay attention to what he agreed to do tonight.

I put my hand on the file that he's reading before closing it and pulling it away. I then push his plate in front of him and ask him once again if he wants to go out tonight. All he can do is look at me like he's staring at a brick wall. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times like a fish out of water before just avoiding the question and starts to eat his breakfast.

"It’s just that we haven't done anything since you've been back home. If you don't wanna go out that's fine, we can have a movie night or anything I just want to spend time with you. I don't want you to push yourself away from me like I know you're doing right now. Your lecture can wait and you have a bit of time until you can be reinstated to the BAU. Take a little time for me and you please." I beg of him knowing he probably won't be able to resist the puppy dog eyes I'm giving him.

"Ok, yeah you're right I need a break from work for a minute. I don't really feel like leaving the house I think I'm too anxious to leave right now, but a movie night with takeout does sound really good."

I'll take it, I mean he agreed to at least have a movie night with me. I also don't want to have an argument over what were doing. I also don't want to push him too far. It's a step forward, but little does he know I have a little bit more planned than that. 

-time skip-

For some reason, we decided to watch Rocky Horror Picture Show first, and Spencer decided to get pizza for dinner. Like I said right now I'm gonna take whatever I can get from this. As we're about halfway through the movie and completely through the pizza I realize we're sitting on opposite ends of the couch. We look a little less like a couple that's been together for four years and more like two awkward teenagers having to watch a movie with either one of our parents. I slowly start to scoot closer and closer to him before I'm glued to his side. After a while, he relaxes into my touch and wraps his arms around my shoulder. I start to plant kisses on his neck and jawline. Once I find that spot on his neck I'm so familiar with it doesn't take him but a couple of seconds to become putty in my hands.

He suddenly grabs my jaw and kisses me furiously. He kisses me with so much vigor and passion, that same passion I've missed too much. Before I even fully comprehend what's going on he's already carried me to our bedroom. He plops my body on the bed with such force that my body bounces in place a couple of times. 

Spencer crawls over me and begins sucking on every inch of my neck and collar bones that he can easily get to. After becoming frustrated by the lack of canvas for him, he tugs at the bottom of my shirt a bit before looking at me silently asking for permission. I nod a lift my torso up ever so slightly and lift my arms over my head so he can take my shirt off. He continues marking me until he retracts his head back to see what he did. When I was expecting him to share the same enthusiasm as I had his face dropped. I squinted at him trying to ask if everything's alright without outright saying it. For a couple of moments that were filled with tension, he continues to just stare at me. He's not even looking at my eyes he's just looking at the marks he left. When his eyes started to the water I became nervous and I wanted to know what's going on. I reached out to touch him and he completely retracted before backing up off the bed. He still didn't say anything while he quickly, but very calmly gathered his keys, wallet, and shoes before walking out.

The entire time I was  calling out to him wondering what's going on once I got my shirt back on.

"Spence... hey Spence what's going on?" I say while following him out the door. This time I make sure to grab him and when I did I was met with nothing but unbridled rage. With tears in his eyes and a disgusted look on his face, he ripped his forearm from out of my grasp.

"I don't want to talk to you right now! Isn't that fucking obvious why do you think I'm walking away? Don't even think about following me! I don't want you to talk to me, I don't want your sympathy or help, and most importantly right now I don't want you!" He shouts at me before stomping down the hall. 

Two concerned neighbors peeked their heads at the door as he went down the hall. All I could do is stand there in horror and confusion. I mean Spencer and I have argued, but all couples do. That wasn't even an argument I don't even know what to call it. Most importantly he has never even raised his voice at me. Normally when Spencer is mad he's calm, and he talks to you with a disappointed almost sad tone rather than an angry one. I don't know who that was because that wasn't my boyfriend. 

I slump myself against the door and curl my knees into my chest before letting out heavy sobs. My shoulders rack as my brain tries to adjust to the whiplash of emotions. I cry until I can't anymore and at this point I'm just letting out hiccups while trying to control my breathing. After a while, I don't even have the energy to cry. After sitting numbly on the floor staring at a random corner of the room I pick myself up and just go through the motions to get ready for bed. I can't even call Spencer because he left his phone, so I don't even try and bother worrying about him. After I shower I lay in our bed with still-damp hair. I don't know where he is or when he's coming home but my body is basically shutting down while I'm worrying about where he's at. My eyes are closing against my own will. I'm just hoping I'll wake up next to my boyfriend's curly hair tickling me like most mornings.

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Taglist: @rexorangecouny​ @haylaansmi​

[jungkooks-left-tiddie]

I think I’m in love | knj.

Summary: Your new internship sucked ass. It was fun, but exhausting at the same time. It also didn’t help that uni was also stressing you out. Amidst all this pressure and stress, perhaps a midnight walk on the Han River with your crush Kim Namjoon is what you needed all along. A/N: so I saw this namjoon picture circulating around stan twitter and my 3am sleep deprived ass decided to write a Drabble. 1 hour and 2k words later, here we are.

Words: 2k (maybe more idk I didn’t count)

Warnings: grammar issues, 4am writing

Song rec: I think I’m in love (kat dahlia)

———————————————————————————

“You’ve never been to the Han River at night?” Screams of outrage filled the silent room as you shook your head.

“I’ve never had the need to,” You frowned, feeling a little lost. “Plus it’s not like my parents would have let me.”

“Have you ever heard of something called sneaking out?” Jimin continued berating you and you couldn’t help but feel a little upset.

“Look, I know it may seem like Jimin-hyung is overreacting, but he’s not.” Jungkook clarified and made you feel even worse. “Han River is amazing at night.” The 3 boys nodded as if it were a common fact.

“You guys aren’t making this any better, y’know.” You frowned yet again.

They continued describing how mesmerising the river looked at night and you could do nothing but frown and continue doing your work.

Unbeknownst to you, Kim Namjoon kept sneaking glances at you from where he was seated. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle and that got on Yoongi’s nerves.

“Just ask them out, for fucks sake.” Yoongi massaged his eyes as Seokjin and Hoseok tried not to laugh.

“What do you mean?” Namjoon pretended to not know what Yoongi’s words meant and noted down a few more points for his assignment.

“Please tell me Namjoon did not just ask that,” Yoongi took a deep breath before proceeding, “Look, we all know that you have the most obvious crush on (Y/N) so just go and confess ok?”

It was true. Ever since you’d moved into the flat right opposite to his, Namjoon’s been talking about you non-stop.

But he continued to pretend like he didn’t hear Yoongi.

Seokjin and Hoseok, who were tired of their constant bickering and Namjoon’s denial, decided to take matters into their own hands.

“Yoongi’s right Joon,” Seokjin shared a mischievous glance with Hoseok before continuing, “If you don’t do anything, we will.” He declared, standing up and making his way to where you were sitting with Hoseok following in suit.

Namjoon started panicking even more when Yoongi decided to join Jin and Hobi as well, because he knew; oh he knew that they would not hold back. So he quickly ran after them and tried to convince them to back out.

“Guys, come on!” He begged, “I promise I will ask them out one day, but please please don’t do anything now,” It was too late now. Taehyung had spotted the lot of them walking up to your table.

“(Y/N), look!” You winced as Jungkook elbowed you harshly.

“What, dumbass--”  Kim Namjoon was standing in front of you.

For a moment, you felt your entire surroundings become a blur and you could only see Kim Namjoon in all his 6ft glory. And as soon as it came, it was gone because you had to remind yourself that people were watching.

“Jin-hyung! What’s up?” Jungkook hits the other man’s arm in greeting.

“Stop hitting me, punk,” They started doing their own thing again, forcing Hoseok to take over.

“We heard you guys talk something about rivers and we were bored so we decided to join lmao,” Hoseok dragged one of the chairs from a nearby table and slumped.

“Damn, I didn’t realise we were that loud,” Tae rubbed his neck sheepishly.

“It was necessary though! I mean it's not everyday we come to know that our best friend never visited the Han River at night,” All eyes were on you after Jimin’s statement.

“Wait (Y/N) really?” You nodded reluctantly. “I lived pretty far away plus I had strict parents so…” You hoped they would drop the topic here, and were extremely thankful when they did.

“Well, I'm sure you’ll have plenty more opportunities to visit. So don’t worry!” Seokjin cheered you up a little.

Your phone started ringing from nowhere and apparently your boss wanted you to collect some files to write a report on from the main office so you quickly informed your friends and bade them farewell.

Collecting the files wasn't the hard part. The hard part was walking home with no one except your thoughts to keep you company. You thought about what your friends said about the Han river and decided to make a trip if you were done with your work.

It sucked to admit it, but they were probably right. The Han River must be really mesmerising for them to talk about it so much and you found yourself suddenly envious of the rest of them.

Night strolls weren’t an option in your old neighbourhood; and though the new one wasn’t bad, you were busy with both uni and your internship. I mean being able to read your fanfics itself was a luxury and these hoes expected you to take a leisure stroll? Keep dreaming luv <3

You said all that to say, but you were still thinking about going there tonight. It seemed like immense fun and plus, it would be your first midnight stroll. You just hoped, with all your might, that you would be able to finish the work as soon as possible.

Lo and behold! 3 cups of coffee later, you were done!

To celebrate, you blasted some music on the speakers and danced along to the lyrics, bopping your head along to the beats.

Namjoon looked at your dancing form through his window. You seemed like you were having a lot of fun, he concluded, an amused  grin now apparent on his face. Judging by the way you seemed to have fun, Namjoon concluded that you must've been done with the work you mentioned you had.

Namjoon did not know the practicality of this, but he had a very random idea to take you on a riverside date. And you know what? He was going to do it. Fuck Yoongi, he’s going to prove it to the rest of them that he, indeed, could ask you out.

And so he took out a random book and wrote a message on it, Taylor Swift’s You Belong With Me style.

He did not know where this sudden confidence came from, but he took a small pebble from his rock collection and chucked it across to make sure it hit your window (yes, he was careful not to break it) and waited for your response.

You, on the other hand, were confused. Your mini-dance session was interrupted by a clink! Against your window and you went to check for the source of the sound; only to be met with Kim Namjoon’s waving form.

You panicked internally, not knowing what to do in front of the man you obviously had a thing for. And you were even more confused when he held up a paper with something on it.

“Do you want to go on a riverside walk with me?” It read.

Apparently, you could not form words so that’s fun =D. Instead, you chose to stand there like 🧍🏽and just nod in response. Namjoon gave you a beautiful dimpled smile with a thumbs up before closing the curtains to his window and switching his lights off.

It was only now that you were hit with the epiphany that you were going on what was essentially a midnight date with the Kim Namjoon and boy, oh boy, you were most certainly NOT prepared for it.

Rushing to your closet, you threw on your most comfortable pair of outerwear (and of course made sure you looked presentable) before chewing like 5 breath mints and grabbing your scarf (and your apartment keys) to go and meet Namjoon.

“Hey,” He smiled.

“Hey,” You replied, still breathless.

“Ready to go?” Namjoon asked and you nodded in response. You noticed that he hid something in his bag but made no comment and instead fell into a steady pace beside him.

The walk to the river was not awkward at all, thanks to Namjoon’s ability to radiate comfort. Which was a blessing cause otherwise you would definitely have embarrassed yourself by now.

You didn't even realise that you’d reached your destination until you noticed the numerous cars and lights.

“Woah.” You had no words for the sight in front of you.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?” Namjoon chuckled and sighed, “I love coming here. It never gets old.” He stares off into the distance.

You get it now. The way the bridge lit up, the view, the vibe, everything. It was enthralling. And the fact that it was Namjoon who was with you made this 1000 times better.

You were so absorbed with admiring the view in front of you that your dumbass didn't notice Namjoon staring at you. There was just something so absolutely adorable and endearing in the way your eyes lit up and seemed to sparkle at the sight in front of the both of you.

“Namjoon, look!” You grab the sleeve of his hoodie, “Purple lights!” He quickly snaps a picture of not only the scenery in front of him, but also you. You who were so excited to see this view at midnight for the first time.

You spent a bit more time admiring the view, goofing off, and taking pictures before finally deciding that it was time for the both of you to head back. As upset as you were, you took comfort in knowing that you could visit this place more often hereon.

The conversation on the walk back home was one that you would never forget.

“No way… Here I was thinking that alpha and beta were just limited to greek alphabet and math,” The look of horror on Namjoon’s face when you explained omegaverse was something that you desperately wanted a picture of, and regretted not taking one.

“It’s a thing that definitely exists, and though I may not be a fan of it; I think a lot of people are into that kind of thing.”

“Interesting,” He comments, pausing. “Say, would the title ‘My Alpha mate’ qualify as omegaverse?” His sudden question caught you off guard.

“I think so… Why do you ask?”

“I think… I think Yoongi-hyung is into omegaverse.” Even though you did not mean to, you burst out in laughter. Yoongi being into reading stories centering around dom alpha mating rituals was something you never needed to know but were glad you did.

You continued explaining the various fanfiction tropes to the other male, especially your favourite ones.

“Oh, I once remember reading this amazing Zuko, Sokka and Suki fic somewhere and I genuinely think that it should be nominated for the Nobel prize,” Namjoon looked at you affectionately while you rambled about the plot of the story.

“And at the end--” You paused, looking behind you and caught Namjoon standing with a camera in his hands.

“Sorry, you just looked so beautiful, I had to take a picture.” You were sure you looked like the capillaries in your face burst.

There were a lot of things Namjoon was proud about, and making you blush that hard was definitely on his top 5.

“L-let’s go, dork.” You try your best to brush it off but KIM NAMJOON JUST COMPLIMENTED YOU STFU OK YOU WERE ALLOWED TO CRY.

Anyways, y’all reached your apartment complex sooner than the both of you wanted, and honestly? Neither of you wanted the other to go.

“So,” “Actually--” You both begin at the same time. Flustered, you gestured to Namjoon to go ahead with what he wanted to say and assured him that what you wanted to say wasn’t of any major importance.

“I actually bought something for you,” He took a small bag out of his backpack and handed it to you. “It’s a collection of poems and short stories that i wrote for-for you,” He flushed and avoided making eye-contact with you.

“Namjoon, I--”

“You don’t need to read it, but I just wanted to give them to you because… because I really like you.” It was your turn to blush (again).

“Of course I will read it, you idiot. I’m literally in love with you, what makes you think I won't?” Namjoon widened his eyes and proceeded to smile bashfully, pulling you into a tight hug.

“You have no idea how happy I am right now,” He admits, swaying you around in his arms. You nuzzle deeper into his warm embrace and whisper--

“Thank you for everything, Joonie.”

[alkhale]

Typetober Day 8: encounters and partings

In light of a Memos update coming veeeerrrryyyyy sooooooon (to the reader who asked for an update because today was their birthday, i’m sorry i wasn’t able to make it :( but i promise i’ll make it up to you! hope you had an amazing one <3)

A flurry of bodies rushed past her legs, nearly toppling her over. Hoku wobbled, grabbing the wooden pillar of the shop beside her before she could fall flat on her face. She scowled, whirling around with one hand curled into a fist. “Hey! Stupid brats, watch where you’re going! You could get someone killed!”

“Sorry, lady!” one of the boys hollered, breaking out into a chorus of laughter as they ran. The smallest one tripped, forcing the other two to brake on their heels. They quickly rushed back, hauling him up by his arms and running away with him in tow.

Hoku stopped at the sight, fist loosening in the air. She felt a little quiet all of a sudden, staring at their backs as the three boys laughed, heads tossed high and smiles bright until they disappeared entirely from sight.

“Hoku, you’re too slow!”

“Put more effort into it!”

“We’re gonna leave you behind!”

“My star, is something wrong?”

Hoku’s fingers uncurled from her fist. She dropped her hand back down to her side, staring after the empty space between the crowd. 

No. She thought back, reaching behind her to touch Mau’s hilt before she shook her head, turning toward the shop and stepping inside. “It’s nothing.”

Hoku fixed the tie under her chin. Her hood stayed well in place, hiding the bright white hair she’d tucked away for the sake of a little stealth. The island ought to be fine for now since she was just picking up supplies before her next raid, but she couldn’t be too careful. I have to think ahead. I have to be smart.

There wasn’t anyone else around to do it for her.

C’mon, it’s not like I haven’t done this solo thing before. Hoku shook her head, making her way to the back counter of the shop. Her order from last night should be ready by now, so she’d be in and out without a hitch. It’s nothing new.

But it was a bit new. When you’d had something for so long and were forced to live without it, everything became new.

You know what you’ve got to do.

“I’m here to pick up an order from last night,” Hoku said to the man at the counter. 

His eyes flickered in recognition at the mark around her eye and he nodded, shuffling to the back. There was another man at the counter, waiting for his own order. Hoku stopped a polite distance away from him, folding her hands in front of her and waiting, trying to map out how she’d make it to the next marine base without setting off an entire armada. It’s located at the center of the island, so it’ll be a little harder to make the runaway. Can I really handle just going in and getting what I need without causing a fuss? Not causing a fuss had never really been the Straw Hat Pirate’s motto. 

Hoku ignored the tightness in her stomach in the heavy weight in her chest. You’re just getting sentimental. Suck it up.

She glanced to the side, watching the other man at the counter inspect bottles of ink in an attempt to distract herself. He was pretty well-dressed for this part of town. Maybe from the rick mansions up the hillside? Hoku blinked once, watching the thick, gloppy substance churn inside. Ugh, that’s not going to sit well on paper. It would probably bleed right through. It’d stain the brush too. Terrible quality. Don’t buy it, man. It’s not worth it.

He ran a gloved thumb over the label, seemingly fixated on it. Hoku’s eyes swept along, squinting suspiciously when his gloved fingers rolled a heavy bottle to the side, showing its brand.

“Pokian ink?” Hoku said out loud in disbelief. “That’s supposed to be Pokian ink?”

The man paused, his fingers halting over the bottle. Hoku flinched in realization, cursing herself as he started to turn toward her. She quickly whipped her gaze down, making sure her hood kept her covered from his line of sight. There’d been a flash of wavy blonde from his hair underneath his top hat, the collar of his dark coat folded down over his carvat. Don’t make a scene, you dumbass.

“I’m sorry,” he said. His voice was amiable, nice and pleasant. She’d almost say charming, but Hoku had the displeasure of meeting plenty of people with personalities that didn’t match the nice tone of their voice. “Did you... are you familiar? With ink, I mean.”

Hoku considered keeping her mouth shut and just coming off as some rude weirdo. He probably wouldn’t bother her if she just kept quiet and let it go.

“What do you need it for?” Hoku said. She should stab herself in the foot. She really should. “Just for writing?”

“That would be ideal,” he said, sounding a bit relieved for the conversation. He turned his entire body to her, opening up his body language but Hoku kept her gaze forward, refusing to turn her face. “I... I was looking a bit into ink that might be good for painting, though I’m not very good at it.”

“You should buy paint then, not ink,” Hoku said automatically. He seemed a bit surrpised. “If, I mean, you’re going to paint. You can paint with ink, but they’re different for a reason.”

Hoku pointed a finger to the jar in his hands, not turning once. “That’s not good quality for either. Real Pokian ink doesn’t look like that. It’ll have a smooth, thick texture, depending on what it’s for. It might even seem clear sometimes, pinkish. Usually it can be found in black though, but you can tell through a jar by the way it slides when you turn it. Should move like blood.”

“I see,” he said, sounding a little amazed. Hoku nodded, curt. “I... You’re very knowledgable. Are you well-versed with Pokian crafts?”

“...I know a bit,” Hoku said, giving herself a pat on the back for not saying anything else. “Just trust me on this though.”

“I will then,” he said warmly. Hoku blinked, a bit pleased by his compliance. “Sorry,” he laughed. “Do I seem gullible?”

Yikes. Am I that easy to read? “No,” she said, “I’m glad you trust me.”

“It does seem like someone who wouldn’t know the truth wouldn’t have much to say,” he said, a little sly as he dragged his finger down the ink bottle and set it down. “Do you see fraud like this often?”

“Too much,” Hoku said instantly. She pressed her lips into a tight line at his boyish laugh. “Just... Just know most real Pokian works won’t typically say they are.”

“I’ll remember that,” he said with a small laugh. “Do you have anymore tips?”

“Not really,” Hoku forced herself to say. “If you’ve got a good eye, you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

Hoku tried to stifle her curiosity. “...you a collector of some kind?”

“No, nothing of the sorts,” he said quietly. There was something a bit sad to his tone, a little lost. Hoku raised a brow, turning a tiny bit. “I’m... I’m fond of the culture, I suppose. It... It feels like knowing more will help me find something I’ve lost.”

“...oh, yeah?” Hoku said, turning a tiny bit more. He hummed, soft in response. “What did you lose?”

“...something very important,” he said quietly. Hoku fell silent. “I wasn’t able to... no, I’m going to try to think a little more positively. I’m still looking. I have to keep looking.”

Hoku said nothing, keeping her eyes forward, hoping a bit for his desperate sake he’d find what he was looking for too. Lost something important, huh. 

Her chest ached.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” he said politely, reaching his hand over to catch her attention. Hoku half turned. The man behind the counter was returning with her bag as well. “I... Feel free to say otherwise, but if I were to be looking for someone of Pokian descent—not for bad intentions! More... more for a specific person, do you know what would be the best way to find them?”

Hoku debated the words on her tongue. Half of her had a mind to just grab her bag over the counter and leave. He seems earnest though. His questions were weird and she didn’t like people poking around into Pokian business with unsavory intentions. But is it even my business if it’s just one person he’s looking for? What if it’s an old flame or a friend or maybe even family? Distant? Who knows?

She didn’t really owe him anything either.

“It depends on the person, you never really know unless you’ve got the right information,” Hoku decided. She grabbed her bag across the counter, already sensing his disappointment in waves. From the corner of her eye she saw his shoulders slump, hands falling down in front of him. “But if it’s just one Pokian in particular you’re looking for...”

Hoku lightly tapped the side of her head on the outside of her hood. He paused. “You should look for their coming of age mark. If you remember what it looks like or where they had theirs... you can’t miss them.”

“...I’ll remember that,” he said, sounding a bit more hopeful, a little... a little curious? “I... Thank you, miss.”

“You’re welcome,” Hoku said simply. She threw her bag over her shoulder. “Good luck.”

“Thank you—“

The doors to the shop slammed open, smacking into either wall. The shopkeep fled to the back of the store and Hoku froze, staring at the entrance as three marines searched before their eyes landed on her.

“There she is!”

Son of a bitch! The man beside Hoku froze, growing rigid as he raised one hand. Hoku whipped her head to the side.

She didn’t hesitate, taking off. The marines flooded into the store and the man at the counter turned, his eyes following her in wide surprise as she jumped onto a table and leapt through the window feet first, boots smashing through the glass and flinging herself outside.

The wind ripped her hood back. Paper white hair spilled out, brushing over her face.

He stopped, frozen.

Wait.

Hoku ran, ducking into an alleyway as the marines tried to tail after her. If there’s a few, there’s more. They’re like cockroaches. She clambored onto a roof, ducking as a group ran past. She quickly took out her brush, drawing onto the thatching and pulling the bird free from the wood. Hoku blew across it, mumbling under her breath as it expanded, unfurling its wings with a resounding flap.

“Excuse me!” Hoku whirled around in surprise. The guy from the shop? “Excuse me! Wait! Please, wait a second—”

Hoku’s eyes caught the flash of blue and white uniforms. She shook her head, jumping onto her bird and taking off. It beat its massive wings once, shaking its beak in protest before it took off into the sky, leaving everyone behind.

“Wait, please! Wait! Wait! Please, wait—“

Hoku didn’t look back.

“Hoku?”

Hoku stopped. Her bird continued to fly beneath her, taking them further and further away from the marines. She blinked, mind whirring as she quietly turned behind her, staring in confusion.

“Guess I heard wrong,” she mumbled, shaking her head. “Let’s go.”

Her bird banked beneath her, taking them far, far away.

“There he is! Hack! I found him! Where did you run off to—huh?” Koala’s eyes went wide, hands flying up into the air as she stopped just short of giving her friend a playful shove. “I—oh my goodness, are you okay?”

He sat, slumped over the top of the roof. His hands hung limply in his lap, gloved fingers clinging to a loose leaf of paper he’d tugged hastily out of his breast pocket. He stared out into the sky, looking forlorn and lost.

“What happened?” Koala asked, crouching down beside him. “Are you alright?”

“...I,” he stopped, looking down at the paper in his hands. “I don’t really know.”

Koala frowned, lightly rubbing her hand against his back. He ran his thumb across the carefully inked marking, curved like half a heart and smeared at just the bottom, like someone had bumped into them in the middle of it.

Sabo gently folded it back up, tucking it into his pocket, right beside his heart.

Was it even you?