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staycalmandhugaclone · 1 year

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Hello! If you are still taking Bingo requests, would you please consider doing "you're never going to believe this" with Hunter? All I can picture with this is that scene from Community with the guy walking in with the pizza to find utter chaos has broken out. I think it would be great with Doc but please do as you'd like. Thank you! :)

"You're not going to believe this" - CRB

Okay so maybe it was just the topic. Cranked this baby out yesterday, but was too tired to proofread, so yuh get a morning update!

If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved!

Clone x Reader Bingo!

Warnings: Fighting, broken nose, blood, light medical procedures, mild guilt, bit of sexual tension, reference to bullying

WC: 3,797

“It’s actually been quite the subject of controversy among numerous scientific circles.” Tech didn’t bother looking up from his datapad as he rambled, food untouched on the tray before him as his leg bounced with an eager anticipation that shook the entire bench. “The planet has long been presumed to sustain intelligent life, but, despite several well-supplied scouting expeditions, not so much as a broken piece of pottery has been found to support that theory.”

“We’re not going there to search for new sentient species, Tech.” Echo reminded, words torn between a weary exasperation and the fond smirk touching his lips.

“It would be unwise to rule out the possibility of unknown lifeforms being responsible for the disappearances we are being sent to investigate.” The pilot rebuked, glancing up from the screen with a look of petulant determination that left me biting back a grin. As though only just remembering that we were in the dining hall after his meal happened to enter his line of sight, he absently reached out to take a quick bite of what I hesitated to call ‘pudding’ before returning to his research.

“Are there any other theories on what happened to the last two squads sent down there?” I asked, knowing he’d be only too happy to grant me everything known about our next assignment that was conveniently omitted from the mission report.

“The precious metals they were sent to find are notoriously difficult to detect with long-range scanners and have proven… troublesome in large quantities as their magnetic qualities can impair proximity sensors and even short-range coms.” My lips tensed into a thin line, just managing to refrain from letting my face twist into the fear that threatened to flood my veins with adrenaline, pointedly ignoring Echo’s apologetic cringe.

“So, they crashed.” I stated bluntly.

“Likely, yes.” He answered without hesitation, attention never wavering from whatever document had captured his interest. I drew a deep, slow breath before speaking again.

“Tech.” The crispness with which I called his name immediately pulled his gaze toward me. “I want you to lie to me and promise me you won’t crash the ship.” I stated with neither shame nor apology, carefully emotionless expression unchanged beneath the flash of confusion that stole through him.

“…That seems… counterintuitive…” He objected.

“Yup.” The word left in a quick chirp. I watched his jaw shift, as though testing various responses as his mind worked over what, exactly, I was asking for.

“I,” he started slowly, “am fully aware of the potential dangers, and, as such, will be far better equipped to anticipate and safely navigate any undocumented mineral deposits.” Echo turned purposefully toward his own meal in a vain attempt to hide his smile.

“Thank you, Tech.” He hesitated a moment longer, confusion almost worsened by my routine reply.

Even above the roar of countless soldiers conversing and squabbling about us, the bark of laughter rang with painful clarity. I didn’t try to keep from glancing toward it, but, the instant I saw the slump of Wrecker’s shoulders as he made his way towards us with his second tray of rations, the way his gaze seemed to carefully avoid looking anywhere he might accidentally meet someone’s eyes, sent my heart racing, blood warming beneath a quiet rage.

“Hunter and Crosshair still stuck in tha’ meeting?” He asked, vainly forcing some hint of nonchalance into his voice.

“Yeah; no word yet on when they’ll finish.” Echo answered, offering a sympathetic smile to his brother as the tall clone sat just opposite him at our table.

“It is unlikely”

“What did he say?” Despite the way those words left in a whisper, it was enough to silence Tech instantly. I felt the soft smile settle over my lips as I looked up to find Wrecker chewing nervously on his lip, searching for any excuse to dismiss my concerns. “What did he say, Wrecker?” I asked again in a gentle murmur. He finally gave a dismissive shrug.

“Nothin’, really… jus’ the usual ‘all brawns, no brains’ stuff – wasn’ even that funny.” He tried to brush it off, but he still wouldn’t quite look at me.

“Oh no.” I drawled in some pathetic mockery of remorse as I swatted the remaining half of my bowl of ‘veggie crisps’ onto the floor, “Guess I should get something to clean this up.” I was halfway across the room by the time they recovered enough to react.

“Uh… sh… should we…” Wrecker started, stammering slightly. The table with the man who’d insulted him all turned to me as I approached, each of them sporting some combination of curiosity and haughty excitement, some even blowing kisses. I said nothing as the one I was focused on turned to see what his brothers were staring at, offering no warning as my fist lashed out, driven by the full force of my body coiling behind the strike.

“Yeah – yup. Kriff.” I only vaguely heard the screech of chairs over Echo’s gasped reply as they jumped to their feet, but my focus was locked on the clone before me, on the rush of crimson flooding his lip and slipping between his fingers as he belatedly threw himself to his feet, reaction just slow enough for me to get another hit in. He nearly dodged it, but my knuckles still grazed his brow enough to split the skin.

“Not so clever now, are you?” I snarled, rushing forward in feint to punch him again. He swung his arm up to deflect it, granting me ample opening to slam my forehead into his already ruined nose. I didn’t hear the chorus of shouting around me. Someone grabbed my arms, hauling me back.

“Say it again!” I roared, thrashing in a vain effort to tear myself free, only vaguely noting that the man restraining me wasn’t one of mine. “Say it again! I’ll make sure you have to drink those damn ration bars for the a month!” A quick glance over my shoulder confirmed that Echo, Tech and Wrecker were straining to fight their way through the crowd of regs that swarmed the pathways between tables for a better view.

“Hunter, yuh might… might wanna get down here quick.” Wrecker’s voice carried easily over the deafening cacophony of shouts and jeers booming through the massive room. I couldn’t make out even the deep hum of Hunter’s reply, but nearly chuckled at what Wrecker said next, “Yeah… you’re not gonna believe this…”

The clone I’d struck finally regained his composure and stormed toward me, lips twisted into a scowl as he drew a sharp breath, but I didn’t care to allow him time for whatever attempt at a reprimand he intended. In a single, fluid motion, I careened my head back to crash into the face of the man holding me at the same time as I drove my heel down atop his foot. Caught off-guard by the assault, his hold loosened just enough to throw myself forward, tackling my target to the ground.

The violent huff of air being forced from his lungs was satisfying in a way few things are, but I allowed myself not even a moment’s pause to enjoy it before twisting to wrench his arm up, locking it between my thighs as I jerked his hand toward my chest, straining the elbow with just enough force to draw a bark of pain from him. I knew he was barely fledged, knew he likely wouldn’t even be fit to leave Kamino for several months, and I’d used that knowledge mercilessly. He was cocky and brash, and he was certain to underestimate me. Against a fully trained soldier, I’d have stood no chance, but one hindered by youth and overconfidence…

“Doc! Stand! Down!” Hunter shouted every word, forcing himself through the crowd toward me, and I almost felt some hint of remorse at the anger in his eyes. In the torrent of my own rage, however, I held the foolish soldier for just a moment longer. “Now!” He growled, stalking across those final feet between us. Only then did I notice how near the others were, hands flared, uncertain how best to help as they stared at me in shock.

Finally, I released him, making no move to stand as the clone threw himself clear of me, strained arm held tightly to his chest. Without a word, Hunter grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. I didn’t try to fight him as he turned and dragged me from the mess hall.

While our barracks was far from nearby, I was still slightly surprised when he veered away from it toward the hanger. Still, that silence lingered between us through each endless minute. His grip never left my arm, but, the instant we were out of sight of the others, his touch had softened into something I couldn’t bring myself to want to pull away from, allowing him to guide me through the maze of immaculately kept identical hallways, across the open expanse of the nearly empty hanger, and up the ramp into the relative privacy of the Marauder’s cabin.

The instant that ramp closed behind us, shrouding the room in a darkness the emergency lights did little to lessen, the instant we were hidden from wandering eyes, he wrenched me against him, arm locking around my back as his other hand tangled into my hair in a desperate embrace. I could feel the faintest shutter in the deep sigh the escaped him, felt the warmth of his breath flutter atop my scalp sending a flush of gooseflesh across my skin; felt his lips rest lightly atop the crown of my head as he curled subtly around me, and I couldn’t help but freeze.

“Are you okay?” The depth of concern in those whispered words left me staggering. His hand slipped free of my hair to gently cup my cheek, leaning back just enough to meet my gaze. “Are you okay?” he asked again.

“Y… yeah.” I was surprised to find how my voice caught, stammering slightly. “Hunter, I’m… I’m fine.” I tried to reassure him, reaching up to let my fingers trail softly over his wrist in an innate need to offer some manner of comfort in the face of his… what? Fear? Was he afraid?

He let out another deep breath, shoulders sinking as some of the tension coiling through his powerful form began to ease, but he didn’t pull away from me.

“When Wrecker said you’d gotten into a fight with a reg…” He started, trying, failing, to explain, but he didn’t need to say more. I knew what horrors plagued his memories of such things; knew why, even now, such a rift lay between his brothers and most every other clone born of Fett’s DNA.

“Didn’t think you’d find me torturing one in an arm bar?” I offered with a small smile, and he left out a reluctant scoff.

“No.” He admitted quietly, but then he fell back into that silence, jaw tensing as he thought carefully over his words before granting them voice. “You got lucky, Doc… and you know that.” An apology just lingered beneath the unmistakable accusation, and I couldn’t dismiss the way my chest tightened at the truth in his words.

“Yeah.” I whispered, refusing to turn away from him even in the admission of my foolishness because he and I both knew I didn’t regret it. I knew no clone would have killed me under those circumstances; however, one with more experience, one who’d seen the horrors of war and knew not to hesitate… His thumb swept slowly over my cheek, touch barely caressing my skin as though he were worried even that might break me.

With a final sigh, he stepped back, hands dragging against me greedily for those fleeting seconds of contact before turning his gaze toward the aft of the ship.

“Come on.” He murmured, already treading down the hallway. I paused for just a moment before following a few steps behind him. He’d already retrieved my scanner by the time we reached the medbay.

“Your hands.” He explained at my confusion. I glanced down, hands flaring out between us to find the skin atop several knuckles torn and smeared in blood that had long since darkened into a tacky coating already beginning to flake at the edges. Without waiting for me to get over that initial shock, he swept the device over them in search of fractures, and I didn’t need to read the results. The relief that stole through him confirmed little more than soft tissue had been injured.

“I can do that, Hunter.” Even as the claim left my lips, I knew it was useless as he gathered what basic supplies were needed to tend the minor wounds. He merely let out a quiet hum in response, already reaching for my left hand. Resigned, I merely watched in silence as he carefully cleaned away the blood before covering each knuckle in a fine layer of bacta and wrapped them with a precision that spoke of a lifetime of treating this exact injury.

When he let his eyes wander back to mine, he again brought his hand up to slide over my cheek, and I couldn’t dismiss the way my heart jumped, but then he drew a rag up to sweep over my forehead and I was briefly shocked to see the crimson stain the fabric, but then his brows drew together in confusion.

“Did you… You headbutt him?” He asked skeptically, and I couldn’t help the quiet laughter from escaping me. With another scoff, he dragged the cloth once more over my skin to rid the final traces of blood before releasing me.

“They changed the schedule. We’re leaving tonight.” He stated, absently cleaning up the mess of used supplies as he spoke. “Think you can finish restocking by then?” Swallowing back the lingering thrill from his touch, the chill I so wanted to pretend didn’t exist in that very moment he’d turned away from me, I had to tear my gaze away from those powerful hands before I could answer him.

“Yeah, that shouldn’t be a problem.” I replied, finally drawing some motion into my limbs to help him finish up.

“Alright; I’ll go fill the others in. We’ll meet you back here.” He paused after into a single step into the main hall. “No more picking fights.” The weariness in his voice nearly managed to silence my rebuttal. As I drew breath to argue, the hint of a glare that narrowed his eyes proved enough to stifle that final trace of rebellion urging me to justify my actions. Still, I granted myself a short huff of air in an unspoken rebuttal, and the way his shoulders shook beneath a nearly suppressed chuckle left my heart soaring.

The crate beside me was quickly filling up as I loaded it with various goods, mindlessly checking my list every few minutes to keep track of my progress. The sound of the door hissing open didn’t warrant even a fleeting thought. This was one of the main supply stores. It wasn’t uncommon to find numerous people in here at once. Only when that deep voice I’d heard countless times from countless faces breached the stillness of the large, cluttered room did I finally grant them any notice.

“Hey, you got a minute?” The innate openness in my expression as I turned to answer the clone instantly hardened upon recognizing the split eyebrow and freshly broken nose, but he quickly raised his hands in a plea for peace. “I’m not here to fight.” He reassured me quietly. I studied him in silence for a moment longer before letting my gaze soften slightly. I loathed the twinge of guilt that twisted through my chest at the painful swelling plaguing his nose, at the dark bruises stretching up his eyes, and I couldn’t bring myself to simply leave it. With a slow breath, I reached down to close the crate.

“Sit.” It wasn’t quite an order, but neither was it an invitation.

“What?” The word fell from his lips before his mind had fully processed what I’d said, and, without my needing to repeat myself, moved to obey me. Helping myself to the supplies around us, I began with his brow. While it had clearly been granted a rushed cleaning earlier, I addressed it as I would any wound until it was neatly sutured before turning my attention to his nose.

Whatever reason he’d actually sought me out seemed to vanish as he sat frozen beneath my ministrations, eyes just a bit too wide, breath just shy of shallow, pointedly trying to look anywhere but me aside from the accidental glance the left him quickly turning away, cheeks flushing.

“Do you know what chemical you can add to a droid popper to turn it into an incendiary grenade?” I asked without preamble, delicately palpating his nose with my thumb to gauge the severity of the break. The instant his attention shifted, mind flitting between focusing on my voice and thinking over the question itself, I quickly wrenched the cartilage straight, tucking a rag against it to catch the fresh surge of blood before he’d even finished biting back the sharp grunt of pain. I cocked my brow expectantly when he looked back up at me.

“Uh… n… no.” He finally muttered, clearly fighting the urge to grind his teeth.

“Hold this.” I instructed, shifting the cloth slightly. Once his hand replaced mine, I began applying a thick layer of bacta over the inflamed skin.

“Know who does?” I continued as though nothing had happened. I saw the moment understanding swept through him, and he yielded beneath the need to tense his jaw, gaze quickly dropping to the far corner of the floor. “What’s your position in your squad?” His tongue darted out to wet his lips, mind churning in a vain attempt to anticipate why I’d asked.

“Heavy gunner.” He answered, and I was surprised to find his voice free of resentment, to hear a softness in the following silence as he waited for me to speak.

“I assume you’re the only heavy gunner in your batch?” He nodded, glancing almost timidly up at me. “Having that specialty… do you think you make your squad stronger because of it?” There. Before I’d even finished the question, his eyes nearly closed, shoulders falling slightly. He was young and impulsive, but he clearly wasn’t as foolish as I’d initially written him off to be. Even as he reached the conclusion I’d yet to voice, he maintained that quiet, granting me as much time as I wanted to breathe life into some grand meaning.

“Wrecker’s quick thinking and kindness in addition to his strength have saved my life several times during this war.” I continued, carefully applying adhesive strips across the bridge of his nose to stabilize the cartilage while it healed. “If you hurt him again, you’re going to need more than a tube of bacta to patch you up.” I spoke those final words as a simple statement of fact as I stepped away. His head tilted down slightly in a useless attempt to hide the grin he couldn’t quite fight back.

“How’s the elbow?” His gaze flicked back up me to before turning to the joint. He briefly stretched it before answering.

“A bit stiff, but it’ll be fine by morning. That’s not the first time I’ve been caught in one of those.” He explained, and I could hear the smirk still playing with his lips.

“Good.” I chirped, “then get up – I still have work to do.” He didn’t move for a fraction of a second before quickly jumping to his feet.

“Um, I can… I can help.” He offered, “Least I can do since you spent all that time fixing me up.” I nearly turned him away, but I was in a bit of a rush. Just as I began to respond, however, his com chimed with an incoming message. The rueful look that he shot me left me rolling my eyes as I nodded toward the exit dismissively.

“Oh,” He called, pausing halfway through the door. “What chemical is it?” It took a moment for me to realize what he was asking, but then I gave him a halfhearted shrug.

“You’d have to ask him.” I answered. “I have no idea.” His grin fell for barely half a beat before returning with renewed vigor.

“I will.”

Mere seconds after he left, the door slid open once more. Brow hitched, I glanced up expecting to find that same clone returning, but was surprised to see Crosshair stepping into the room just enough to lean back against the wall.

“Flirting with regs, now?” The familiar rasp of his voice held the faintest hint of resentment that almost gave me pause.

“I swear, you’ve got to be the only person I know to mistake ‘threatening’ with ‘flirting’.” I nearly groaned before resuming my task.

“No mistaking his grin…” He retorted, and I could feel the unspoken words sitting like poison in his throat, but he forced himself to remain silent, instead reaching into a pocket to grasp a toothpick.

“Did you just come here to throw accusations around, Crosshair?” I sighed wearily, unwilling to devote the energy into bashing my head against a wall in some futile effort to change his mind.

“Hunter sent me a com; said I should keep an eye on you. Clearly, there was nothing to worry about.” He added, narrowed eyes shifting back to mine as he flicked the sliver of wood over his lips. Returning his glare, I roughly dropped the box of fresh bandages into the crate.

“If you want to be jealous and pouty, go ahead.” I sighed dismissively as I turned away from him. The silence lingered heavily between us, but I refused to grant him the satisfaction of yielding beneath it. When I finally finished my list and hoisted the crate up to lean against my chest, he finally spoke.

“Were you?” I paused midstep at the quiet question, shifting to find him staring blindly at some distant point past my hip.

“Was I what?” I pressed when he offered nothing more.

“Flirting.” I nearly dropped the crate.

“Uh, n… no, Cross.” I answered, cursing the heat crawling up my neck. Without a word, he pushed himself away from the wall and, with just a few long strides, tread towards me. I barely had time to think before he was pulling the box from my grasp and found myself staring dumbly at the broad expanse of his shoulders as he began walking down the hall. Forcing myself to draw a steadying breath, I followed quickly behind him.

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slashingdisneypasta · 10 months

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Imagine your siblings child referring your F/O as their Uncle/Aunt because you two have been together so long !!

You've been together practically their whole lives, whether your F/O is good with/likes kids, they were always around when you babysat (Because you live together. Maybe they were helping you with your niece/nephew! Maybe they were just watching TV in the same room and got dinner ready so you could continue keeping an eye on the baby. Maybe they hid away in your shared bedroom the whole time but the child always knew they were there), they maybe even went to family gatherings with you!- they have just been a constant in your niece/nephews life. Just like you.

In this kids mind, you and your F/O are a package deal.

#i dunno why. but this is one of my favouriteee thoughts.#package deal! 📦 doesnt that sound good? XD #at hearing the kid refer to her as their aunt 👠👠👠cruella would roll her eyes. she doesnt like kids. this kid is not an acception #... but she does treat them slightly better then other people because she knows i would leave her ass if she was mean to my niece or newphew #she's the kind that spends most of the days i'm babysitting in her study #but throws expensive toys and treats the kids way when she's forced to see it XD #so she's the kids mean rich lesbian aunt.#🐊🐊🐊jim would be slightlyyy better with kkds then CRUELLA at least 😅#he may be that kinda 'dad' type to look at this kid getting spoiled with affection by HIS s/o like #'this means war'#after getting called uncle he looks to me like 'this isnt gonna make you want kkds is it?' '#'no'#'then i dont mind being uncle jim. lets annoy your aunt until she gets us mcdonalds'#🥼🥼🥼doc and 🚓🚓🚓sheriff and i are the kids wierd Triple Pack of adult family members XD #other kids on the playground say its wierd but its just notmal for them ^^#anyway- doc and sheriff are perfectly happy to be called uncles.#they would be the bestttt to babysit with!! <3<3 #you can tell i wanna be an aunt XDDD #F/O Imagine #F/O x Reader #F/O Imagines #F/O's #F/O

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heliosynchronisity · 2 years

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chappy time!!

From One Cyborg to Another - Chapter 3

#Otto Octavius/Reader #cyborg!reader #gender neutral reader #nonbinary reader #friends to lovers #slow burn #mostly friends tbh

#otto octavius #doc ock #doc ock x reader #doc ock x oc #otto octavius x reader #oc: cybernix #fanfic #i really need ot start using reference for these chapter doodles lol

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scorsesedepalmafan · 2 years

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Finally put together/have begun to plan my transition into Snidely gender

So hyped

#snidely whiplash #alfred molina #doc ock #moodboard #gender #dudley do right #dudley do-right #dudley do-right 1999 #snidely is gender #transmasc #mine - but feel free to use for reference - snidely is truly a good place to start if you're going for gender #snidely whiplash x reader #snidely whiplash gender

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aro-aizawa · 1 year

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@ anyone familiar w it. please,,, i beg you please tell me how to make epub files that aren't reliant on it looking pretty. all im looking for is how to make it a chunk of text that i can put into my screen reader. please,,, i want to cry

#shut up danni's talking #i have a few fics that i have to read exclusively via desktop or on a google docs copy bc i use a text replacer #to even out some quirks in how people are referred to and a few grammatical tweaks and such #so downloading an epub version of the fic from ao3 won't keep my corrections/tweaks #but i need that epub for my screen reader however i cannot under any circumstances find a way to make an epub file #that has chapters so that i can skip to chapters like it's formated in the ao3 epubs #this might be highly specific and niche but i cannot find ANY information on it #and while my screenreader can read pdfs the chapter function doesn't work and instead just marks individual pages #WHICH DOESN'T HELP WHEN IM GONNA BE READING A FIC THAT'S 300+ PAGES #not to even mention when i want to read a series??? if each installment is only 2k+ words and there's like 30 i want to just compile them #so that i can just load the whole series into it at once and not have to switch every ten minutes #i am v near to tears trying to find a way to do this when i have ZERO coding skills #and almost zero knowledge on computer formats esp when google only gives me 'writing the book' things when i search #for ebook makers like sobs that's not what i need and the things that i CAN find all have flowery-image heavy templates #BITCH I JUST NEED THE TEXT AND THE CHAPTER FUNCTION THIS SHOULDN'T BE THAT HARD #i am fully aware that there are other screenreaders that you can just copy/paste things into #but i've done those before and they were INCREDIBLY annoying to use and i'd like to not go back to that #sigh #any help will be greatly appreciated thank you

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nereidprinc3ss · 4 months

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relax

in which spencer helps university student reader de-stress after a particularly exhausting assignment

18+ (smut) warnings: fingering, overstimulation, happy crying, lowkey softdom spencer, slight d/s dynamics, reader is referred to as a girl, ????idk i've never had to tag for smut before lols wc: 2624 a/n: been doing some insane literary cooking. lots of smut AND more fluff in the works (all uni reader... lol... ). idk if i love this but again need to fucking get it out of my word doc so here u go, PLEASE lmk if you like it!!

You don’t even realize the room has gone completely dark until Spencer comes in the front door and flicks on the light.

“Why did you do that?” you snap immediately, looking up from your laptop screen for the first time in potentially hours, blinking hard as your eyes painfully adjust. Your boyfriend gives you an odd look.

“Hello to you too...”

“I’m sorry. Hi. How was dinner?”

“It was good,” he says, crossing the room to the couch that has been your entire world for the past five hours. You sigh, releasing some of the tension in your shoulders when he leans down to kiss your head and set down a to-go box on the coffee table. “Have you moved since I left?”

“...no,” you admit, moving your eyes dejectedly to the keyboard.

“You made progress,” he appeases, leaning over you to angle the laptop upward. Immediately you wrench it away, holding it protectively against your chest.

“Stop! I don’t want you to read it yet!”

“I could help you with it though,” he pleads, bracing a hand on the arm of the couch. You look up into his hazel eyes, where he’s definitely playing up the puppy dog factor. His tie brushes your stomach, and he smells like lavender and clove and--

“You need to go away,” you realize, snapping back to reality and shrinking into the couch, away from him—trying to escape his all-encompassing sensory presence.

“Wh- I just got back!” he scoffs, straightening.

“You’re distracting me,” you accuse, throwing him a baleful look.

“I’m literally offering to help you.”

“And I’m respectfully declining because I care too much about your opinion to show you this essay until it’s less terrible. I really just need a couple more hours to finish it, please?”

Spencer sighs, regarding your pitiful state before moving to sit down next to you. Automatically you move your legs out of the way before settling them in his lap and damn it he’s supposed to be going away. Your iron grip on the laptop involuntarily loosens a little as his hands begin to run back and forth over your legs. No—you must stay focused.

“Spencer,” you whine, flopping your head back. You let the implied complaint hang in the air.

“You’ve been writing all day. Your brain is exhausted, and your synapses aren’t firing at a rate that is intellectually productive.”

“What is the point of having a brain if I can’t even use it half the time!” you almost-shout, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes until you see fireworks.

The couch shifts and you feel the warm, robotic weight of the laptop unpin you as Spencer lifts it from your lap. “Don’t read it,” you beg, watching through parted fingers as he sets it on the coffee table, and relaxing slightly when he settles back into the couch.

“Come here,” he says, holding out an arm. Too mentally exhausted to do anything but comply, you pull yourself up just enough to fall into him. Immediately he wraps his arms around you, one hand slipping under your shirt to rub your back in hypnotizing passes. “I think you burnt yourself out,” he mutters.

You nod into his shoulder, surrendering yourself to his warmth, letting yourself sink into a lavender-clove fog, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into it. The darkness behind your eyes glows an inviting amber, threatening to pull you under...

But the essay...

“Stop thinking about the essay,” he demands.

“But I have so much to do,” you sigh against his jacket, the words coming out muffled.

“The best thing you can do now is give your brain a rest. I promise you you’re not making that paper any better if you’re exhausted.”

“I am not exhausted,” you insist, although your eyes are still closed, “I’m just really stressed.”

Spencer hums, continuing to rub your back.

“Do you need me to help you relax?” he says innocently.

Oh?

One of your eyes opens to peer up at him suspiciously. He sweeps some of your hair out of your face.

“Because I would be happy to.” A moment passes—him looking down at you fondly; you wondering if you’re picking up what he’s putting down.

“And how would you go about doing that?” you ask suspiciously.

“Orgasms reduce tension and stress and improve brain function.”

Damn. Why did the nerdiest, most un-sexy pickup line ever just turn you on?

You groan, burying your face further into his shirt—mostly to hide any trace of a blush.

“You know what else would reduce stress and improve brain functioning? Taking an Adderall and finishing my fucking essay.”

“Angel, you're such a smart girl, and you are fully capable of doing whatever you set your mind to—but I will lock your laptop in my gun safe before I let you look at that essay again tonight.” He speaks so softly, and his fingers are still gently combing through your messy hair... all in all, you put up a good fight, right? Maybe you should just listen to him...

“... fine.” you say eventually, reluctant to give in too quickly even though the idea quickly has filled your stomach with butterflies.

“Fine?” he says, pausing his motions as you turn your head just enough to look up at him. “Sounds like you don’t really want it, baby. Maybe we should just go to sleep. Or I could take you back to your-”

“Spence,” you whine, gently grabbing the front of his shirt. Now he’s going to make you beg? As if it wasn’t his idea? Those puppy dog eyes of his are deceiving.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” he sighs, hand moving from your hair to your outer thigh.

“Please?” you whisper, dignity forgotten as you look up at him imploringly.

“Lean back, sweet girl,” he says, helping you adjust your position til you’re lying against his chest, legs sprawled across the couch. Your head lolls on his shoulder, intoxicated by his close proximity. “Perfect. Such a good listener.”

Normally, you’d be quick to make a defensive remark, but with the way he’s slowly hiking your shirt up, running his hands over your sides so lightly it gives you goosebumps—you're really in no position to argue. Your eyes flutter shut as his hands grow bolder in their explorations, crossing your stomach, fingers just slipping under the waistband of your shorts and skimming over your hipbones before coming back up.

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs, and you nod lazily, apparently losing access to your language facilities after running them dry all day. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem good enough for your boyfriend. “Do you remember when the last time I touched you like this was?”

Through the hazy blur of your exhaustion, you try to think back. Was it... two days ago? Three? More?

“Almost a week ago,” he supplies the answer for you when you take too long. What? That can’t be right.

But when you think about it harder... it is right. It was right before finals week started.

An errant hand straying up your torso distracts you. “Do you remember what I did?”

You flush.

“You... yeah,” is the best you can offer, too flustered to say exactly what he did to your body. That stray hand moves over your breast. Your back arches just slightly at the stimulation through the thin fabric of your bra.

Thankfully, he lets you off the hook.

“I made you cum three times, right?”

“Mhm,” you hum through closed lips, tense with anticipation as he finally slides both hands down to your shorts and wordlessly directs you to lift your hips so he can pull them all the way off along with your underwear.

“You’ve been so busy lately, huh. Working so hard.”

You unconsciously drop your bent legs open, brain too foggy to be insecure about how utterly bare you are—allowing him to slowly rub up and down your inner thigh.

“I’m gonna make you feel good, honey. I don’t think three times was enough for such a stressful week.”

You gasp when his fingers finally brush your clit, whimpering slightly when they just barely skim your entrance before tracing the wetness back up.

“Give me your hand,” Spencer says, taking his own from between your legs and holding it up. You don’t even think about it, releasing your grip on the arm he now has wrapped around you and holding it out for him. At this point, you’d do anything he tells you to without hesitation.

He takes the proffered hand, gently guiding it back between your legs. Your fingers meet slick, soft warmth. “Do you feel how wet you are?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, seeing how your fingers glisten when you pull them away. His remain, running slowly up and down your clit. Your brain seems to be vibrating in your skull as warmth spreads throughout your body.

“Who’s that for?”

“You, Spencer,” you whimper. He hums in approval before the room falls into silence as you both watch his teasing intently, your breath baited as you try to be patient. But your body isn’t with the program, you keep twisting slightly, your hips cant upward. “Please, please,” the words escape on a held exhalation as you finally break, arching your back against him as your search for more friction.

Without warning, he sinks two fingers inside you. The slight stretch after not having taken anything in a week scratches an itch you didn’t even know you had, and you let out a broken moan.

“I know, honey. You’re so good, I know.” Spencer kisses your head as he speaks over your cry, barely moving his fingers for a few moments while you get comfortable.

Still you’re not ready for it when he withdraws and pushes back in.

“Look at that,” he breathes.

“Oh, fuck,” you choke, watching how your arousal completely coats his fingers as he slowly, slowly begins to fuck you with them.

Again you feel the vibrations in his chest as he laughs slightly—probably at your earlier insistence that you didn’t desperately want this. The laughter fades as you both become entranced by the sight of his fingers disappearing into you, and your stomach twists with pleasure. His pace remains languid, and he seems to delight in the filthy, wet sounds his hand is producing between your legs.

“You okay, baby?” he asks after a moment, seemingly snapping out of some trance.

“Uh huh,” you whimper. One particular drag of his fingers at just the right angle has you dizzy, and then he’s speeding up. Your jaw drops at the change in pace and your hips chase his hand, wanting even more.

“So pretty,” he mutters as his other hand moves to spread you open.

You attempt to shut your legs around his wrist, but instead he just ruts his fingers deeper into you, palm pressed against your clit. You attempt to twist away from the extreme stimulation, but he doesn’t allow it.

“Too much,” you squeak, bucking your hips inadvertently.

“No it’s not,” he states, like you’re talking about the weather.

“Spencer, I really c- ah- can't!”

“It feels like a lot, huh?” he asks soothingly, not letting up one bit.

“Yes!” you cry, eyes stinging as tears begin to well.

“You’re okay, angel. It’s just been a while.”

You are so completely fucked. Each stroke of his hand feels like an electric jolt through your whole body. It is too much, but at the same time, pleasure is pooling deep in your stomach and at the base of your spine and you never want him to stop. You throw your head back onto Spencer’s shoulder, eyes screwed shut.

“Relax,” he mutters, carefully bearing down the pressure across your waist with his arm to try and keep you from squirming.

A rhythmic whine breaks through the barrier of your sealed lips as you focus all your energy into taking it, when the all-consuming need to kiss him hits you. You twist your neck to look up at him, observing the furrow of his brow and the way he’s tucked his bottom lip into a bite. Thankfully he notices your movement—his eyes dart from your own half-lidded gaze to your lips and he understands what you want.

The kiss is messy and the angle is awkward and you’re moaning into his mouth half the time anyway, but it feels so good to have his lips moving on yours that you don’t care about any of it.

“I—ah,” you cry into him, unable to form a coherent thought as your stomach drops like you’re mounting the peak of a roller coaster.

His fingers again change their angle and he finds the spot inside you that makes your legs spasm. Attempting to hold in whatever noises you were making is now futile—the whimpers and pants turn to full-fledged keening moans interspersed with taut silences as you fail to breathe properly.

Your wrench your gaze and lips away from Spencer to watch through a blurry haze the rapid movement of his hand between your bare legs, the way your hips buck and twist and the way your leg bends as he hooks his free hand under your knee and hoists it toward your chest.

“You’re doing so well, honey. Being so good for me.”

Moisture spills over from your eyes, tracing down your cheeks and down your neck as you begin to come with no warning and a desperate, broken cry.

A string of praise from Spencer underscores your pleading moans, but you can’t focus on anything other than the buzzing warmth emanating from your core, the bright, pulsing white that blinds you and the feeling of stardust flowing through your veins.

Your boyfriend continues pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you for a blissful few moments, before sensing the tail-end of your orgasm and bringing his fingers up to rub lazy circles over your clit. Aftershocks resonate from the hypersensitive area and make you clamp your legs shut around his hand as your toes curl and you attempt to squirm out of his grip.

“Done! I’m done,” you squeak, rocking your hips back and forth to try and escape his toying.

“Okay, okay,” he soothes, relieving the pressure of his hand between your legs and moving it to run over your stomach as you come down.

You lie in silence for a minute, enjoying the liquid sensation weighing down your muscles and basking in the warm afterglow of your orgasm.

“Shit,” you breathe shakily after a moment. Spencer chuckles. You manage to turn yourself over, laying your cheek on his shoulder and slipping your arms under his waist. He looks down at you as he moves on to massaging your back and bare hips, eyes full of warm adoration.

“Feel better?”

You hum an affirmation, wiping your eyes on his shirt.

“Oh, honey, did I make you cry?”

You laugh into his chest and nod, a few stray tears leaking from your shut eyes. “It’s okay. Not sad tears.”

“What kind of tears?”

“Orgasm tears,” you mumble, a tidal wave of exhaustion you’d been fighting all day finally washing over you.

“That makes sense. Orgasms can be cathartic or even therapeutic depending on your head space. Major losses and life changes are often associated with sexual dysfunction but the opposite is actually just as if not more common. A spike in libido can—”

Spencer pauses, looking down to see that you’re either asleep or close to it, and smiles to himself. You’ll probably be mad about it when you wake up, but he had to get you to stop thinking about that paper somehow.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds imagine

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ao3commentoftheday · 6 months

Note

Idk if this is too broad of a scope for this blog, but if you could answer this, it'd be great.

I've been in a writing rut since I started getting serious about writing, and I've identified the issue in the past month or so: I slant heavily on the gardener end of the writing spectrum and all the advice on writing I've ever seen was for architect-style writing. Not once in the eight years I've been serious about writing did I find any guides on gardener-style writing (and if it says it's gardener-style, it'sreally just architect-style with gardner aspects), and my experience has just been more or less jamming a square peg into a circle hole, getting nothing written and feeling bad about it.

Now I'm unlearning all the architect-style habits that are destructive to me as a writer, but I can't find any resources for gardeners aside from Stephen King's On Writing. If you or any of your followers know how to help a gardener's writing, that would be great. I have so many fic ideas I want to write, but can't since I'm learning to write all over again.

For those who don't know what gardener and architect refer to when it comes to writers, a gardener is a writer who starts with the seed of an idea and lets it grow in whatever direction the light shines. They prune it and weed it as they go but otherwise let the idea lead the way. An architect, on the other hand, plans their stories out first and then writes them. They have a structure and the details all mapped out first and then the writing is just executing on that vision.

As a gardener myself, my biggest piece of advice is to avoid writing advice. Like you've said, the majority of it is aimed at people who do things like plan and plot and worldbuild ahead of time. Because of the structure that that writing style enjoys, providing "one size fits most" writing advice works well for it.

I tend to find a lot of that advice to be counter to what I need to do. Planning a story out ahead just makes me feel like it's already written. Building out the world before I start writing it feels like a hollow exercise - more like writing an encyclopedia than developing a land and culture for my characters to inhabit.

What I find useful is taking an episodic approach to writing. The entire story will be like a season of a television show and each chapter is like one episode. I always have my eventual "season finale" end goal in mind, but any particular chapter can meander closer to or further from that goal. It's alright to take a circuitous route, as long as I get to my destination in the end.

It's also alright if my destination changes as I'm writing. Sometimes those meandering paths take me in a more interesting direction than I was originally going down, and that shifts the story. As long as you're vaguely following a three-act structure (or 5 act or 7 act), the flow of it will feel familiar to your readers and they probably won't really notice it happening.

This advice I'm giving might not ring true to you either. You didn't have a specific problem to address, so I've been wandering a bit in my reply. Really what it comes down to is paying attention to yourself and your needs. Figure out what it is that keeps you writing and what it is that makes you stop. Do more of the former and less of the latter - and don't worry if what you're doing is "weird" to someone else.

I write directly into the AO3 window (which AO3 specifically tells you NOT to do, btw) because drafting first in google docs or something takes the fun out of it for me. I post my chapters without previewing them first. I write in 800 to 1500 word sprints, and I focus on dialogue, and I almost always try to end on a joke or a pun or a cliffhanger. These are all things that make writing an activity that I want to do.

I can't really say anything much more specific given your ask, but I hope something in here was helpful. Let's see if any gardeners out there have some resources or advice that might work for you.

#asks and answers #long post

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endlessthxxghts · 24 days

Text

Dr. Miller - Pt 2

Orthopedic!Joel Miller x afab!Reader | W/C: 4.8k

Summary: It’s time for your second appointment with Dr. Miller.

Warnings: canon-divergent - no outbreak, medical professional au. Reader (she/her) has female anatomy and is able-bodied. No physical description of race. Reference to reader’s clothing, but no sizes mentioned (everything is neutral). Pet names (darlin’, angel, girl, etc). Most definitely doctor malpractice LMFAO. 18+ MDNI. Inherent power imbalance (doctor-patient relations). Dirty talk. Hickeys/biting/marking. Fingering. Slight begging. Praise kink. Multiple orgasms. Spit kink. P in V unprotected (wrap it before you tap it, guys). Cum play/cum swallowing…snowball kisses🥴. Daddy kink… and last but not least, the ending.. I’m not gonna say what, you’ll just have to read, but I’m sorry😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 although I’m foregoing a warning or two for plot purposes, please let me know if they should be up here! I’ll fix it accordingly!🫶

A/N: Here goes round 2! As far as the series goes and as far as posting it goes LMAO!! This hellsite deleted my first attempt in posting, so hopefully it stays up this time around. And I’m giving a big thank you to @honeyedmiller for proofreading and catching my horrendous grammar mistakes lololol I love you🩶 Anywho, I hope you guys enjoy!!! I’d love to hear what you think :) luv u guys xx

series masterlist | main masterlist | update blog

<- PREVIOUS

Friday. 4pm. Your next appointment with Dr. Miller was tomorrow.

This was the first ever doctor appointment you’ve ever been excited for. The automated text their system sends out didn’t tell you to arrive early, and you’ll admit, you were bummed.

You’ll show up early regardless. Maybe he’d be able to see you sooner if his schedule allows. At least, you can hope, anyway.

After your appointment with him last week, you were left hurt and wanting. You knew the hurt was a natural reaction to the sudden dopamine drop, and something tells you Dr. Miller is a guy who’s adamant on aftercare. So, you swept those emotions under the rug easily.

Not so easily, however, was your needy cunt and the way it drooled and throbbed for nearly an entire week straight, craving the one thing she almost had. She barely had a taste, but she was already hooked, addicted even.

Your fingers, your vibrator, your purple dildo that’s helped you come plenty of times – nothing could get you off. Not anymore.

Unbeknownst to you, Dr. Miller had the exact same problem. Well, okay – he could ejaculate just fine, but the want never seemed to leave his system. Ever since he’s had his taste of you, he could never reach the feeling of satisfaction. And it has taken an absolute toll on him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dee snarked. Only she could ever talk to him like that. She keeps him on his toes.

“The hell is wrong with me?” he huffed.

“You’re being a grump, doc,” she replies.

He rolls his eyes. “Ain’t I always?”

“Yeah,” she says thoughtfully. “But you seem more… miserable.”

“Gee, Dee, well thank you for that,” he replies monotonously.

“You’re welcome,” she snickers. She comes closer, voice hushed. “Seriously, though. Do you need to get laid or something?”

He chokes on the coffee he now regrets bringing up to his lips. “Jesus,” he coughs. “Time and place, Dee,” he says, trying to collect himself.

She raises her hands up defensively. “I’m just lookin’ out for ya, doc,” she smirks, howling out a laugh as she puts Dr. Miller out of his misery by returning to her desk.

He just shakes his head in response, fighting the blush on his cheeks at the thought of you taking care of the needs Dee so outwardly pointed out he had.

Dr. Miller wouldn’t have to wait much longer, though. Your appointment was so soon, only one more work day before he’s able to be blessed by your presence again. That is, until Dee finds another opportunity to shit on Dr. Miller’s mood.

“What do you mean we’re supposed to close early tomorrow?” Dr. Miller gruffs.

“Exactly that, Miller,” Dee treads lightly. “It was in the calendar. Too many people have off in the afternoon tomorrow. It’s Easter weekend. You’ll be sorely understaffed.”

“Then who booked the patients after 2 if us closing early was in the calendar?” Dr. Miller is never one to be an asshole, dictating boss, but his irritation is very much getting the best of him right now.

Dee whispers her next response. “…The new hire. But don’t blame them. I should’ve caught it sooner,” she reasons.

Dr. Miller takes a steadying breath. “So how many people do we gotta disappoint right now?”

Dee pulls up the calendar on her phone. Dr. Miller watches her shoulders physically relax. “Oh! Actually, you’ve only got one person. At 4. I’ll call right now to reschedule,” Dee says with a finality.

“Wait- who?” Dr. Miller asks. He knows who it is.

Dee looks confused for a moment, but she indulges and reads off your name to her boss.

“Y’know what, Dee,” Dr. Miller waves her off. “I’ll take care of that appointment, it’s fine.”

“Dr. Miller, are you sure-”

“‘Course,” he cuts her off. “I’m the only one in this damn office without Easter plans, anyway,” he huffs. “Empty nest or however that sayin’ goes.”

Dee nods in understanding. “How’s she doing?”

“Fuckin’ amazin’,” Dr. Miller marvels. “She just surprises me more ‘n more everyday.”

Dee smiles before she returns to their situation at hand. “Are you sure you don’t want me to reschedule?”

“I’m sure,” Dr. Miller states. “Listen, I know this practice wouldn’t be able to run without any of y’all, and without you especially-” Dr. Miller explains.

“You flatter me,” Dee butts in with a straight face.

He smirks before continuing. “But have some faith in this old man, why don’t ya? I think I’m more than capable of doin’ the whole check in, check out thing.”

Dee takes in a sharp breath. “It’s much more than that, Miller, but nonetheless,” she holds her hands up in surrender. “I’ll put some faith in ya, old man.”

“Thank ya,” he drawls. “Now please go talk to the new hire about their mistake, I think they’re still afraid of me a lil bit.”

She laughs in the affirmative, shutting Dr. Miller’s office door on her way out.

Holy shit.

His plan to get you alone just worked itself out. Thank you, newbie, he thinks to himself.

Dr. Miller’s office is less than ten minutes away from you, yet somehow you decide that if you left any later than 3, you’d keep Dr. Miller waiting, and you certainly didn’t want that happening.

The parking lot is completely empty, a lone vehicle – a hefty truck – sits only two spaces away from your own. Your tummy swirls, knowing exactly whose car that might be. However, another swirl of nerves swarms through you. Why are there no other vehicles?

Swallowing the anxious lump in your throat, you step out of your car and make your way inside the office. Inside is even further void of life than the parking lot.

You make a beeline for the check-in window, picking up the pen from the cup to begin filling out your information when a deep drawl of your name startles you.

“Dr. Miller,” you jump, your eyebrows flying to your forehead.

“Shit,” Dr. Miller chuckles. “Sorry, darlin’,” his voice was much softer, careful. “I do that a lot to my staff- sneak up on ‘em, they call it. Say I need a bell or somethin’ ‘round my neck.”

You laugh with him at the little anecdote. He motions for you to come on back already, dismissing the check-in process since it’s only you, he explains.

“Why is it only me?” You ask. Well, okay – you know why it’s only you, but how is it only you is the question. He did not just send everyone else home since you’d be here. That would raise too much suspicion.

Walking you to the patient room furthest from the potential public eye, he retells the new hire’s mistake. You find yourself in the same mindset as Dr. Miller as you silently thank them for not being more careful.

“You could’ve rescheduled me, you know,” you tell him, eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, I know,” he quips as he opens the door for you.

You step inside, turning around to face him. “So why didn’t you?”

The door clicks shut, and Dr. Miller’s now face-to-face with you, head tilted down to meet your challenging gaze. The air in the room becomes dangerously charged.

“I think you know why, angel,” he says, scarily smooth.

You don’t back down. “Enlighten me.”

He takes a step closer to you, forcing you to step back. “Why should I? When that very reason is right between those legs already crying for me, huh? I bet she’s a fuckin’ mess already, ain’t she?”

You gulp as your ass hits the exam table, not realizing that Dr. Miller has been slowly cornering you.

Without giving you a moment to respond, his lips are crashing into yours, his large hands grabbing onto either side of your face to keep you against him as your body melts into his hold. His tongue licks across your bottom lip, and your mouth opens, letting him in. You mewl into his mouth, each of your tongues lapping one another’s flavors, your senses immediately being consumed.

The kiss breaks, and you both are frantic. Your hands grab onto the exam table behind you and you hoist yourself up, your fingers already finding the hem of your shirt as you rip it off, letting it fall to the ground. Dr. Miller practically growls at the sight, his chocolate brown eyes blackened with pure need.

He shucks off his white coat, letting it join your top as he pounces on you again. He nips at your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth and letting it go with a pop as he drags his scruffy face across your jaw and down your neck, biting pretty little bruises everywhere his mouth touches.

Your hands find the bottom of his shirt, taking the liberty of pulling it off and whining when it gets caught over his broad form. “Patience, angel, I’m not goin’ anywhere this time,” he coos, his eyes genuine.

You huff out in mock annoyance, your eyes silently thanking him for the reassurance. You pull back to let Dr. Miller take off the upper portion of his scrubs. Your irritated façade is quick to fade as your eyes coast his body: his broad shoulders and tanned chest, the product of laborious activity throughout one’s life; your eyes drag down to his softer middle, the product of a happy, indulgent life. Your spit is suddenly thick.

Dr. Miller’s thumb comes up to rub across your bottom lip. “Ya alright? Got a lil bit of drool right there,” he taunts.

You tilt your head and take his thumb in your mouth, letting your spit coat his digit generously as your hands pull him in by his waist, your fingers scratching the expanse of his sides and his belly. “So fucking sexy,” you murmur, eyes alight with hunger.

Unable to verbally deal with the compliment, Dr. Miller pulls his thumb from your mouth, settling his hand on your jaw as he pulls you in to kiss your lips again. It’s much softer this time, more savory. He takes his time with it, and it has both your resolves breaking as Dr. Miller’s free hand finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it with ease, the article joining the haphazard pile on the floor.

Dr. Miller kisses down your neck once again, your body leaning back to give him more access. His mouth goes straight for your hardened nipple, his tongue circling the entire area before putting as much as he can in his mouth and sucks.His hand fondles your other breast while he works the one in his mouth. You’re moaning and writhing at the stimulation, your pussy utterly leaking past the barrier of your pants and onto the exam table.

“Dr. Miller, please,” you gasp. “Please- need more,” you moan, eyes rolling back at a particular nip to your bud. You can feel him smile against you, his mouth relenting only to move to your other breast. Dr. Miller is all about detail, of course he needs to make sure every part of you receives ample attention.

He releases you with a pop, a devilish grin on his face as he stands back to his full height. His hand snakes to your front, the pads of his fingers rubbing softly at your clothed center, your slick completely soaked through. “Ya need more?” He drawls. “Tell me what you need, baby,” he says sickeningly sweet, his entire hand moving to cup your sex, the squelch of your arousal making his cock twitch.

“Fuck-” you squeak, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. “T-touch me, p-please,” you stammer.

To outsiders looking in – hell, to even you – it’d seem as though Dr. Miller is entirely calm and collected, at ease in the way he’s been teasing you. Yet, with the way his cock is straining the material of his scrubs and the way his chest heaves, he is anything but. He is so far gone, he nearly wanted to rip your clothes off in the waiting room and take you over the fucking counter. But he didn’t, much to his displeasure, but he tells himself the buildup is worth the wait. And, fuck- with you? It’s so fucking worth it.

“I am touchin’ you, darlin’. Touch how? Use those words, sweet girl, I know you can,” he tells you, squeezing your cunt in a way that has your belly doing flips.

“Oh, God-” your head rolls back, body on fire. “F-fuck me, Dr. Miller, n-need your- fuck- need your cock, need it so bad,” you plead, eyes tearing up the more you speak. The man finally broke you.

Dr. Miller smiles wildly. “Atta girl,” he rewards you, “I’ll give it to ya,” he breathes. “Lord knows you’re all I been thinkin’ ‘bout,” he admits as his fingers begin nudging your pants down.

“Yeah?” you breathe softly as you lift your hips for him. Even in your aroused craze, you can’t help but soften at the admission. “Haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either,” you tell him.

This is so much more than a fucking hookup, you both think. But you ignore that fact for later.

Shaking off the emotion, as soon as your pants join your clothes, you lean back, settling your elbows behind you to keep you up. Letting your legs fall open, you quirk your brow. “Well, cowboy?”

That brings his attention back. His eyes are fixed on your shiny cunt, his tongue twitches to drink you up. But, no, this is about you this time. And what you want is to be full. He’ll give it to you. But, first-

“I was too big for you last time,” he states matter-of-factly.

“I-” your eyebrows furrow. “What?”

“I hurt you last time.”

“No you didn’t-”

“I could tell it did,” he rebuttals.

Without another word, he steps out of the exam room. A beat passes and he’s back – with a fluffy pillow.

“Um-”

“Lift,” he states.

You lift your hips up, and Dr. Miller places the pillow underneath your lower back. “This should help open your pelvic floor more,” he says. “And ease the tightness of the position,” he adds.

And it does.

“Oh,” you whisper. “Thanks,” you say, your cheeks heating up at the action.

He leans over you to kiss your tummy before his hands settle on the insides of your thighs. “You okay?” He asks. His thumbs rub up and down, dangerously close to where you’re leaking for him.

“Mhm,” you hum, not trusting your voice anymore.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he says.

“Oh, God, please-” you whine impatiently.

“But I needa touch you first, angel, I don’t wanna hurt you. Please?”

How can you say no to that? To his thick fingers and the way you know he can use them so expertly? How can you say no to the hands that have built his career or to the hands that’ll easily make you fall apart just as much as you know his cock would? You’d be an absolute dumbass to say no to that.

“Okay, Dr. Miller,” you say, voice shaky in anticipation.

“Joel,” he offers.

Your heart skips a beat. “Joel?” you question.

“Mhm,” he hums. “My name- well, first name, I guess,” he pauses. His fingers move closer to your core, the softest of touches ghost through your seam. You take a sharp breath in. “Just tellin’ you cuz I wanna hear you moan it when I make a mess a’ you. I bet it’ll sound real pretty, baby.”

His thumb finds your clit, then, and you do exactly what Dr. Miller – Joel – wanted. You moan out his name deliciously, sending him groaning at the pang of desire shooting up his spine, his cock weeping for attention.

“Fuck yeah, angel, that’s it. Knew you’d sound so fuckin’ gorgeous, fuck-”

His thumb continues its assault on your throbbing bud while the middle finger on his other hand rubs through your wet folds, collecting up the arousal before he pushes into your entrance.

It’s an easy push, his fingers are thick, so there’s still a slight stretch amongst the pleasure. The work he puts in with both hands has your hips bucking in his touch, and it eases your body enough for him to slip his ring finger along his other.

His two fingers fuck into you at a sweet pace, the length of him reaching places your own fingers have never felt before. It’s pure ecstacy. “Oh, Joel, yes- shitshitshit, that feels so fucking good,” you cry, your head lolling around like a bobblehead, your body falling weaker and weaker the more he plays with you.

“Yeah, baby? Like that? That feel good?” He grunts, his heart beating a mile a minute at how fucking pretty and wild you look and sound from his fingers alone. “So fuckin’ wet, baby,” he snarls. “You know what, pretty girl?”

“What?” you whine, trying your best to keep your eyes open and on him as your head begins to tingle from how hard you’re panting.

“I think you’re ready to take me, baby, I think she’s so fuckin’ ready,” he grins, his fingers adopting a come-here motion, your sobs reverberating throughout the tiny exam room.

“Come for me first, pretty girl, make a mess on my fuckin’ fingers, and I’ll give what you’ve been crying for,” he all but demands as he looks down and lets a big glob of his spit fall directly onto your clit, his fingers gliding over you even quicker in the mixture.

“Fuck- Joel!” you scream, the spit being the action that completely throws you over the edge.

“Jesus, angel, fuck-” he stills his fingers, letting himself feel the flutter of your warmth as you cream all around him.“So fuckin’ perfect comin’ all over my fingers, goddamn, messy fuckin’ girl,” he rambles, his eyes roaming every inch of your body, taking in every twitch, shake, and mewl your body is giving him.

Your breathing starts to slow, muscles relaxing but not quite over its shaking. He pulls his fingers out of you and brings it directly to his mouth, his cock nearly bursting at the taste of you on his tongue. Another time, he thinks to himself as he bends down to pull the rest of his scrubs off, using the moment to place a chaste kiss to your puffy clit. You yelp at the sensation, a lazy, blissed out smile blesses him, and he can hear his heartbeat thrum in his ears at the sight.

Joel crowds himself between your thighs again, pumping his cock a few times, his thumb reaching for the precum leaking at his slit and spreading it all over his length.

“How you feelin’?” Joel checks in.

“So fucking good, Joel,” you respond, doe-eyed but entirely honest.

He wants to kiss you so fucking bad.

So he does.

He leans over you as best as he can in this angle, his length rubbing against your folds as he leans in, his hand wraps at the base of your neck, pulling you in for an open-mouthed kiss – wet, hot, and slow. He pulls away with a blush across his cheeks, and your face is entirely engulfed by flames, too. Did that kiss make him nervous? Did it make you nervous?

Unable to look away from each other, you utter the first thing that comes to mind. “Please,” you whisper, though you don’t really know what you’re pleading for.

“I got ya,” Joel whispers, pulling himself back to line up his erection with your entrance.

Even though Joel’s fingers were a stretch all on their own and your body was quick to adjust, you genuinely don’t think anything could truly prepare you for the length and girth of Dr. Joel Miller.

Last week, it was damn near impossible. Thinking back to it, honestly, you think you might want to even thank the nurse that interrupted you two. Still, if Joel hadn’t prepared you today with his fingers, you definitely wouldn’t have been able to take him as fast as you are now.

He pushes in just the tip, and you both gasp at the initial pleasure. Your mewls are more pleasurable than painful this time around, and Joel takes that as the go-ahead to keep going.

“You tell me if I needa stop, darlin’, I’ll stop immediately,” Joel grunts, trying his best to keep slow.

“God, fuck- Joel, I swear to God, you better not stop- need you so bad,” you lament. He finally pushes himself to the hilt, your rambling continuing as he does so. “Please fuck me, baby, fuck me hard, da-” you gasp and slap your hand over your mouth, catching yourself before you let yourself finish that word.

Joel pauses all movement, his hands tightly on your hips as his purely black eyes stare down at you. “What’d ya say, angel?”

“J-Joel, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what-”

“Not my question, babygirl,” he warns softly. “What’d you call me?”

You gulp, opting to just stare at him, silently begging him to spare you of the embarrassment.

He withdraws from you, all the way out to the tip, then, oh so slowly he pushes back in. He pauses halfway, eyebrow raised. Words.

“Please, Jo-” you start. His hand squeezes your hip in warning. “Please… Daddy, please,” you whine, finally giving in. With that, he pushes in roughly to the hilt, knocking all the wind from your lungs as pure pleasure flows through every nerve in your body. “Oh, fuck!”

“That’s it, angel, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he moans, his thrusts slow but calculated. “Makin’ daddy feel so good, baby, shit-” he tells you, his own eyes finally fluttering shut as he revels in the feeling of the warmth of your walls, tight and fucking perfect.

“How’s daddy’s girl feelin’, baby? Feelin’ good? Hm?” he grunts with a particular thrust forward.

“So- fuck-” you try to get out, your sweet cries of euphoria cutting you off and forcing you into incoherency. But you’ve experienced enough in this short time with Dr. Miller – with Joel – to know he needs this communication. He thrives on it. So you try your damn hardest. And fuck, it nearly sends him to his end.

“F-feels so good, so so good- mmm, shit- love your cock s’much, daddy,” you slur, eyes nearly going cross-eyed as Joel’s hips start to move faster, his fingers gripping tight enough to leave little bruises on your waist, a matching set to the marks across your neck and chest.

The wanton moans spilling from your mouth spurs Joel on, his brain short-circuiting at the feel of your velvety core consuming him. You feel him twitch before he feels you flutter. The sensation wakes you up a little, a wave of confidence overtaking you despite the fervent drive of his hips.

“You’re close, daddy,” you whine, a mischievous grin across your face. “Can feel you,” you tell him, thrusting your hips softly, attempting to meet his every push and pull with the help of the pillow gliding underneath you.

“Fuck-” he chokes, his hips only faltering in pace for barely a moment. One hand lets go of your waist and falls where you two are connected. “Need you- shit-” he pants. “Need you to come ‘round daddy’s cock first, pretty girl.” His thumb finds your nerves, slick and sensitive, and wastes no time in forcing you to the brink of another orgasm.

His fingers circle you, matching the rhythm of his hips, and instantly, your eyes clamp shut, back arching deliciously as you let your legs open impossibly further. “Oh, daddy- oh God, oh fuck- I’m gonna come, I’m gonna-” you yell as your throat becomes hoarse, your chest sinking and rising as you let your body relish in the fire that Joel is throwing you into.

“Give it t’me, lemme feel you, angel,” Joel urges, his lower tummy flexing as he feels your inner walls spasm and soak his pulsing length.

“Oh, yes- yeah, fuck- please,” you babble mindlessly. Pulling yourself to sit up, your hand planted behind you, you pull Joel in, lips ghosting each other as his quick breaths fan against your lips. “You gonna come? My pussy that good, daddy?”

Your random spurts of teasing has Joel in all sorts of panic. Usually, he’s one to call the shots, and all his past partners never wanted or requested anything different, but it seems as though he has finally met his match. “Fuckin- Christ, doll- pussy’s so fuckin’ good, baby, daddy’s gonna fuckin- oh fuck-” he keens, pulling out just in time for his cock to spill his entire worth across your mound and your lower belly.

“Oh my god,” you moan to yourself, your pussy clenching around nothing at the sight of him all over you.

Joel takes a minute to catch his breath, his eyes scanning every inch of you like he didn’t just violate every Doctor oath he’s ever taken.

“I think I need to be the one to check in this time,” you let out in a breathy laugh. “You okay?”

He still isn’t looking in your eye, and it makes you nervous. Is he regretting everything now? “Joel?” you call, barely audible.

His eyes snap to yours before they fall back to where he was looking before. “Yeah, yeah, I’m alright, baby, I just, uh-”

Cutting himself off, he bends down slowly. You watch him, confused but intrigued. He sticks his tongue out, flat, and licks. From your mound to the lower part of your belly, he collects up the salty, milky liquid on his tongue.

He brings his mouth up to you, his hand finding purchase at the back of your neck. He pulls you into his mouth, his tongue invites itself into your space along with the heady musk of his come, and you welcome it greedily, swallowing every little bit of his arousal that you can.

You break away just before his watch beeps: 5:45pm, fifteen minutes until closing. “That was-”

“I’m sorry, that was disgustin’ I don’t know why I jus’ did that-”

You lean in to nip at him, pulling away with a suck to his pouty bottom lip. “That was hot, Dr. Miller,” you smirk.

Dr. Miller’s exam rooms, although not often, can see a lot of bodily fluids. Obviously not the kinds that you two have exchanged together, but with the notion of removing casts and such, sweat is bound to get everywhere. So every room holds baby and/or sanitizing wipes just in case.

He grabs a pack of baby wipes underneath the cabinet and takes out a few. He wipes your entire lower half down, and grabs some more from the pack to wipe himself off. It’s a dance of wobbly limbs as both of you help each other dress back up, you being particularly whiny at how stiff the scrub material is when you try and blame it on his big size.

“I thought you liked how big I am?” He quips, your eyebrows shooting up in response as you slap his chest.

All dressed up, you two walk out of the exam room, both you and Dr. Miller on cloud nine as you make your way back to the front office.

Before reaching the door, he grabs on your waist, pulling you against the wall, towering over you. That beautiful Southern gentleman smile bright on display, the kind of smile that has your knees wanting to buckle.

“I- I had a great time with you,” he says, a little bashful. Sure, the things you did together were otherworldly, but the things that came after? How he was able to help clean you, dress you, and simply just be with you afterwards? He really can’t remember a time he’s felt so right.

“I did, too,” you tell him. “But, I think…” you trail off.

His stomach sinks. Here it comes. We shouldn’t be doing this anymore, he knows you’ll say.

“I think I can’t be your patient anymore,” you whisper with a giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Dear God, you just about gave me a damn heart attack,” he huffs, burying his head into the crook of your neck, littering playful nips anywhere he can reach as payback for scaring him.

You two break out in laughter, it slowly turning into an impromptu makeout session as his lips find yours again, both of you insatiable for one another’s taste.

You’re so caught up in each other that neither of you realize the front door of the office unlocks, nor do you realize someone is entering the hallway you two are currently in.

You also don’t hear the gasp coming from the person either, not until-

“Dr. Miller?!”

Shit.

NEXT (coming soon) ->

Please let me know what you guys think!!! Your feedback keeps me going, and interacting with everyone literally brings the brightest smile on my face. All my love xoxo

I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

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rosedom · 2 months

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AHHHH HELLOOO sorry i usually dont request much, haha this is actually my second request in all of my tumblr story ever but...i saw you decided to write for gaming and i just couldnt resist, i love your writing a lot and i just think its so immaculate hahaa. Could you write an scenario where male reader is stressed from work (imagine he has an important job like a doctor or something whatever you want is fine :)) because he has been working days nonstop, so much that his boyfriend is all worked up and horny for him so when reader comes back he finds himself straddled by him while hes begging for fucking? With cockwarming, breeding kink and cowgirl position. Could that be with Gaming, Lyney and Gorou? SORRY IF IM ASKING MUCH I DONT WANT TO BE A BOTHER😭😭 i just dont know how to request but thanks for reading all of rant. And again, thank you and sorry for bothering😔 have a nice day/afternoon/night!

"an unnamed player has invited GA-MING, LYNEY, and GOROU to play . . . an apple a day

✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!top!male!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!characters, vaginal sex & riding, breeding kink + creampies, creaming (lyney), gratuitous praise + petnames .

A/N : aa u are never a bother !! i am SO SORRY this took so long for me to get to, omg . . . but i had sm fun with this (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."

Patient after patient after patient, each one with a more downright stupid trouble than the last. Your day had started with a young man, clearly fresh out of Millelith training, complaining of a tummy ache, of all things! He had clutched his stomach and moaned and groaned, and all you could prescribe him was bedrest. It’s not like you were going to waste medicine—medicine that some people needed—on someone who ached because he didn't eat fucking breakfast.

The next patient was an older woman, here only for her biannual check up. You'd greeted her, said a sweet, “Good morning, madame,” but all she did was turn her snobby nose up at you and demand you not waste her time.

“Madame, you have a serious—”

“I know, young man.” You had heaved a sigh, letting her boss you around for the length of her appointment before sending her off with the exact same specifications as last time: take vitamins, get ample rest, stop talking back to people just doing their jobs. (Though, that last one there was merely something you wished you had said.

Too bad the customer—in this case, patient—is always right, huh?)

But, by the end of the day, you wish, instead, that you had simply elderly after elderly; their disrespect pales to the absolute headache that the rest of your patients put behind your eyes, pounding at your skull—bam, bam, bam.

Wham bam-thank-you-ma'am, all throbbing incessantly behind your eyes and making you wanna hurl—except, god, you’re the fucking doctor, and who’s there to take care of him when he’s a little under the weather? You’ve got your boyfriend, of course—your perfect boyfriend, light of your life, apple of your eye, yet he’s home, and you’re here, and you’re bloody exhausted.

“I need to go home,” you murmur—quiet, lest your own voice make you lose the last of your thin-threaded sanity—, already stripping yourself of the itchy scrubs you wear during the long days.

“But sir—” the nurse asks, meak, but her voice is still too loud, too shrill for right now.

You huff. “I’ve worked for fourteen hours.” The tired gruff to your own voice makes you cringe. You can feel the way it tumbles from your chest, rattling you, your overly sensitive eyes and brain and head and fuckin’ everything, at this point. “Refer to the doc on duty, now.”

The nurse nods, once. “Have a good night, doctor.”

You bid farewell—a kind apology with a promise to make it up to them, to bring them coffee, maybe, or some cookies—, and you take the slow walk home. The sky is dark and the fireflies are out, the gentle glow illuminating the path. With nothing but your own thoughts and the night to accompany you, you feel your headache gradually ease. It throbs, still; but each bump in your skull is gentler, now: it’s easier to ignore.

Although the porch light is too strong—the lantern bright and attracting the nighttime bugs and moths—, the foyer of your home is dark. Your aching head is grateful for the reprieve—for the silence that envelops you in totality the second the door clicks quietly shut behind you—, but something other than tiredness pulls at your heartstrings: your sweet boyfriend, clad in only a shirt of yours, toeing into the entryway.

“Honey?” He wipes the sleep from his eyes, softly smiling at you. “Hi.”

“Ga-ming, honey—” honey, because Ga-ming unabashedly stole the pet name from you, first, “—you didn’t have to stay up for me.”

As if on cue, his jaw cracks open in a yawn: this, you do not need the lights on to see. Your heart aches with your head, knowing that he had stayed up just for you. “Honey,” you repeat, sliding off your jacket and stepping up to him. You take his waist in your hands, bunching up the shirt he stole from your closet.

“Quit with that,” he murmurs, tilting up his head for a soft kiss. You grant it; but when you go to pull back, to keep the kiss gentle and chaste, Ga-ming presses forward, darting that little tongue out to lick at the seam of your lips; his hips, too, come bumping against yours, pressing into your thigh, pant to skin—

“Ga-ming?” you repeat, breath leaving you in a low huff. “You’re—” bare.

Utterly, wholly bare: an expanse of warm, slick skin against your clothed leg. “‘m ready,” he mumbles while he takes to mouthing at your throat. His lips soothe you, somehow; it’s a reprieve, a stark contrast, to the pounding at your skull.

“Ready?” you whisper, tilting your head back, letting your hands guide the steady roll of his hips onto your lap.

He nods. “Ready for you,” he enunciates as he softly whines.

Ga-ming—your Ga-ming—, your boyfriend, your love and light of your life: right here in front of you, on you, all needy for you, offering himself to you, wholly ready for the taking.

“So please,” he continues, his cock dragging heavy across the seam of your pant; “fuck me.”

“Oh, honey,” you murmur; then again, an “oh, honey,” because you’re still half-dressed up in your clothes—though they’re only soft and bland, made to fit under the rough scrubs you had abandoned at the office—, and Ga-ming is naked save for the shirt draping across him, the low hemline covering the absolutely sinful way he grinds down. It’s a dirty move, a down, down, down that gives his sensitive cock friction against your pelvis.

“Please, please, ‘m ready, I said—” his words abruptly drop off, a high cry in his throat that sends him to hide his overly-warm face in your neck. His skin burns against you, a feverish-hot that makes you chuckle, makes the throb in your head go away, just-so. “I said I-I was ready, so, please!”

You coo, quiet, bumping your hips up once. The jerking motion makes him cry out, but he manages to keep himself upright, right-side up but entirely unmoored on your cock. “Go on then, little lion. Take what you need, yeah?”

Whimpering a quiet, “Y-yeah,” he begins riding you, slow, steady—but slightly off-balanced—rolls of his hips that makes him whine, makes you groan low n’ deep in your chest. You let your hands rest on his hips, the fabric of his shirt falling over your wrists, and gently guide his motions. Once you’ve helped him establish himself, he begins riding you harder, more desperate.

Silent tears—though, are they truly silent, loud as he is moaning out for you?—dribble down his cheeks, falling to his shirt and soaking the collar of it in salty evidence of his abject pleasure. His abdomen is tensing and relaxing and tensing and relaxing again, all in a rapid loop, in and out and in n’ out, and then there’s a fucking bulge right below his navel when he sinks down hard n’ deep on your cock; and you’re sent over the edge at the sight, moaning through your teeth as you fill Ga-ming up with hot, sticky cum.

“Oh, oh—” he cries, grinding down harsh to get all your cum in as deep as possible, deep ‘nuff to breed him— “bred me, bred me so well, oh—” You groan at his desperate babbling as his thighs jerk around your hips, just before they give out on him entirely. He falls bodily into your chest, heaving through his own orgasm as weak mewls tumble from his prettily parted lips. Each sound is smeared into your throat while you laugh, light and breathless, jostling his overly-sensitized body and making him flinch.

“Sorry, honey.” You kiss at his temple, and, the whole while, his small cunt is left to unconsciously milk your cock, left to assure that loud, insecure part of his brain that he’s wanted, that he’s bred all nice n’ full because he is loved. You’re long done, now, but the undulations make your body warm, soft, safe—just like Ga-ming is, comfy in your lap and wholly protected. “Thank you.”

He shakes his head against you, nuzzling into your throat with a heavy sigh. “You don’t have—hafta thank me,” he mumbles, a lick at your Adam’s apple to seal the deal. “I wanted ta.”

Tucking up the blankets around him, you grin. “Then can you warm my cock, lil’ dragon? Just for me?” You run your fingers lightly up his clothed spine, delighting in the shiver you can feel, one that runs the length of your cock as he’s snug on it. “Since earlier was all about you?” You raise the end of your sentence in a lilting tone, meant to tease, and Ga-ming huffs at you.

And, n further retaliation, he clenches around you; the soft squeeze—all wet n’ warm, smearing your own cum across the base of your cock and leaving the mess of both of yours to dribble down the minute space between your bodies—forces you to calm your breathing, to take in the delicate scent of what is undeniably Ga-ming mixed with the smell of your own shirt, your own cologne.

You laugh, then. “‘m sorry,” you say again amidst giggles, ones you’re careful you confine only to your upper chest lest the movement be too uncomfortable on both of your oversensitive groins.

He doesn't reply, snuggled up comfy on your lap and stuffed full of your cock n’ cum both. Instead, he only noses into your neck further before his breathing steadies, lulling you to sleep, too.

It’s in your final moments of consciousness that you realize your head no longer hurts.

(You suppose you now have the evidence that, yes, an orgasm is sufficient enough a cure for headaches.)

Under Lyney’s palm, a small floor lamp clicks silently on. The light is admittedly dim, but, to your sensitive eyes, the bulb is blinding. You cringe and cover your eyes; but it only serves to shield you slightly, because you’re still upright in the foyer, and your body is rather weak. “Lyney,” you tiredly murmur, lifting your palm just enough to see the ground lest you trip.

You bump into him, laughing lightly, but his worried hands jump to your arm. “Hey—”

“I’m okay.” You’re quick to calm him, placing your free hand on his in a tender gesture as you make way to the living room. “Just a headache, ‘s all. Ya shouldn't have stayed up f’r me.” Earlier, it hurt to even think; but here, with him, the pain is easy to ignore, in the face of his own self destruction.

He grumbles at you, though, says something you can’t quite catch and drops his hands, pads over to the lamp to flick it off. The return of darkness is soothing.

He smiles at you, then; or, at least, you think he does. It’s difficult to see in the dark, and you can’t strain your eyes without hurting yourself. “I wanted to!” He takes three long strides before he’s standing in front of you, draping his arms across your shoulders. The position makes his (your) shirt ride up on his belly, and— ”I missed you, y’know,” he murmurs, suddenly all soft n’ deep, looking up at you and bumping his forehead against your chin. “A lot, really.”

“Lyn—”

He quickly silences you with a kiss. Against your lips, he pulls back, murmurs, “I missed your cock, especially.”

Laughing against him, you lean up ‘til he can no longer reach you. He pouts at you when you reply, faux-snark, “only my cock, huh?” Your bottom lip juts out—a mirror of Lyney’s own, a magic trick of his you took for your own; it’s a devilish trick, one you play right alongside puppy-dog eyes you know he’s soft to. “How cruel.”

He huffs at you, pulling you down by the collar of your shirt to kiss the mirth off your lips. “I was tryin’ to be seductive,” he grumbles, knocking against your chin and beginning to push you backwards into the living room. “But nevermind!”

You want to say, “Hey, now:” disagree with him and keep on pouting and go, “hey, hey, hey,” all offended, but the backs of your knees come into contact with the edge of the sofa, and you’re well and sufficiently distracted from that idea.

“Sit,” he gently commands you—merely the illusion of choice—, giving you no choice in the matter with the way he’s pressing you down into the cushions. You go easily; you sigh in relief when the softness begins enveloping you—a pillow’s snug right in the middle of your back, and you briefly wonder if Lyney had planned this. He murmurs, “there you go,” quiet n’ soft, and you’re taken by the way this man gives to you.

He wears his heart on his sleeve, truly; except, right now, the sleeve is yours (just like his heart belongs to you and yours to him in turn), and it's bare, and so is the expanse of his long, pale thighs, the hem of his boxers peeking out beneath the shirt. He stands in front of you, between your legs, makes sure you’re down and that you’re gonna stay down, but your eyes aren’t really tired, not anymore, staring at Luney—your Lyney—before he huffs and sits bodily onto you, straddling your lap with his knees sinking into the cushions on either side of you.

“Lyney,” you murmur, reaching out to take hold of his thighs. The position makes the shirt rise up on his belly, exposing the soft, rippling muscles there; but, in the dark, all you can go by is what you feel against your own stomach, his bare skin pressed to your thin shirt. “I was kiddin’, sweetheart.”

“I know you were,” he snaps at you, mean-like, but he brings his arms around your shoulders all sweetly and nuzzles into the side of your head. “But I wasn’t. I—I really did miss you; and your cock. If you—if you wanna, of course.”

“Of course I want to, Lyn,” you mutter, tilting your head up to kiss beneath his chin. “I’m just a little tired.”

“A little?” He huffs, again, before sighing. “Just—let me do the work, alright? I’m already...” he pauses, tilts his head to the side, breathes in and out sharply.

You hum at him to go on.

“‘m already prepped.” Oh.

“Oh?” You grin, bringing your tired arm up to cup his cheek. He leans into your palm and his eyelashes flutter, brushing against your skin. “Go ahead then, sweet thing.”

And go ahead he does, smiling into you before he abruptly leans back ‘nuff to chuck off the shirt. You whine, say, “hey!” but there isn’t any bite left on your tongue when Lyney starts tugging his boxers down, too. He’s impatient, pulling at the seam and groaning curses at the fabric—as if it’s the damn boxers’ fault that he’s in a position that prevents him from taking them off.

He relents, tilting this way and that and finally—after painstaking minutes later, ones that, under no circumstance, should be arousing, but the anticipation, the wait: it all makes your dick chub up in your own pants—Lyney’s left naked in your lap. The fabric hangs off his foot, and you reach down to tug it the rest of the way off for your sweet boyfriend as he busies himself unbuckling your own belt, loosening the tough leather enough for your pants to droop and enough for him to reach a hot hand into your briefs.

“Eager, huh?” you tease, lifting your hips—and, subsequently, him—to let him get your dick out of your pants. Neither of you bother pulling down your own pants, not after Lyney spent so long on his boxers alone. He doesn’t dally. “My sweet Lyney.”

He sighs, again—he’s rather dramatic tonight; but, then again, when isn’t he? It wouldn’t quite be your Lyney without some theatrics—, spitting into his palm and lathering up your cock with it while he makes to straddle you more fully. “Thought you were tired,” he grumbles, hovering his, indeed, wet n’ slicked up and entirely prepped cunt over your thick cockhead.

“Mhm.” You set your hands on his plush thighs once he hooks the head of you into his loosened hole, groaning low and pleased in your throat while he softly whimpers at the barely-there stretch. He prepared himself well. “But when you’re lookin’ so pretty for me, I can’t help being wide awake. Wouldn’t wanna miss this sight for the world.”

With your eyes now adjusted to the light—and, oh, you consider how the throb of your head is a bygone memory now—, you can see the way his cheeks darken just-so, puffed up in exertion as his groin meets yours. You’ve got your cock stuffed up balls-deep in him, and he leans into you once he’s fully settled.

He moans, less out of outright pleasure and more out of total contentment, comfy and warm on your lap as your arms knead at his thighs. His arms squeeze around your shoulders, and he quietly asks, “Gimme a minute.”

Nodding, you simply bask in the steady heat of him, letting him adjust and recognize that, yes, you’re home, now, and you hadn’t really left him at all. “I missed you,” you murmur rather suddenly, your voice quiet but still stark in the silence of the night. “Thought about you durin’ my shift.”

“You did?” His voice is rough but wispy, a little out-there and entirely gone. He’s slipping into that mindset he always does when he’s left to warm your cock—regardless of if it were by his volition or your own—, but he begins to subtly grind his hips against you, mewling at the hot sparks of rapture from his cock rubbing just right against you.

“‘Course I did,” you continue, moving your hands to his hips instead to help move him along. His arms tighten around you and he moans directly into your ear.

From then on, it’s quiet: quiet, that is, save from the obscene slick noises of the lube Lyney used to prep himself earlier with his own slick, your pre-cum mixing up and making a mess of thick liquid between both of your thighs. His moans are barely audible, these soft, gentle lil’ uh, uh, uh’s punched out of him with each tender grind down.

You think, even, that you’ll both cum like this: quiet, nothing but the sounds of your connection and heavy breaths, moans, groans as you fall over the edge. But then Lyney starts bumping his groin against yours even harder, grinding down deep on your cock and rubbing against your full balls, and he starts babbling for you to “breed me! Please—”

“I-I’ll breed you,” you groan, leaning your head back into the sofa cushions and chasing your release, chasing the release you both want, the one he wants so desperately stuffed up deep inside him. “Gonna fill you right up, just like you want, sweetheart.”

He babbles more—a mix of syllables and words, more pleas for you to breed him—until he’s silenced by his own high-pitched whine, cumming around you and slathering you in creamy-white. The steady clench and release of his cunt forces you to your own end, thick cum slowly leaking out from the edges of his cunt and your cock. (You can hardly tell what’s your leaking cum and what is his own.)

“Thank you,” he mumbles, already beginning to doze. “Th’nk you:” quieter, more muddled against your ear.

You grab the throw you have across the sofa’s armrest, rucking it up around the two of you; you cocoon Lyney safe in your arms and on your softened cock. He’s nodded off, now, and he misses your words: “You don’t have to thank me,” you say anyway, even if he doesn’t hear you, “I love you.”

The cum’ll be sticky, later, when you wake up; but for now, it’s perfect. It’s perfectly warm and entirely cozy, wholly snuggled up with the love of your life. Your headache, the stressors of the day—they’re all forgotten in his presence.

You’re so, so glad to love him.

“Hi, puppy,” you coo. The sound of your own voice grates you, but you ignore it to sweetly smile at your beloved. He stands there, motionless for a moment right there at the threshold before the foyer, until he shakes his head with a barely-there laugh. “Gorou?”

He tilts his head to the side—this you can see, the silhouette of him in the moonlight—before he takes a tentative step forward.

Then another. And another. Another, another, another, ‘till he’s standing in front of you and leans up to kiss your jaw. “Hi,” he repeats, voice ruff (hah!) and hoarse, a little too much so. “Missed ya.”

You tilt your head back to let him mouth at you, and your hands subconsciously come to clutch at his hips, and— “Oh, Gorou,” you mumble, pleasantly aghast, because your hands come into contact with bare, slick skin. “Pent up?”

With a quiet whimper, he tilts his hips forward, into you, pressing against the contact of your fingers on him. You slowly slide your one hand around, sneaking a large handful of his ass before you dip into his cleft, shuddering when your fingertip easily glides across his slicked, open cunt.

“I-I wanted you, so bad,” he starts to mumble, shy, tucking his head into the meat where your shoulder meets your neck. Without any prompting, you adjust your stance, pressing your knee into his cock and making him jerk forward with another whimper high in his throat. “Oh!”

Slowly, his hips begin grinding—it’s a weak movement, testing, making sure you're really okay with this, right now. He moves unsure against you until you begin bumping your knee, letting his slick make a mess of your pant leg. “Go on,” you goad him on, soft, holding him snug against you. You can feel his cunt clench even through the fabric of your pants, a rapid rat-a-tat-tat against you that is oddly reminiscent of the headache you can feel begin to dissipate. “Take your pleasure, pup.”

He nods vehemently against you, beginning to hump as his tail swishes side to side, side to side, hypnotizing you just slightly. It’s hard to parse it out in the dark, but the shadow of it is undeniable behind him. Each bounce of your leg makes Gorou whimper, and he’s quick to crane his neck up for a kiss to muffle himself. You grant his request easily, but only for a minute; after, you gently part from him to murmur, so quiet that only he could possibly hear, those big, soft ears of his twitching as he strains, “What else do you want, honey?”

“Want you,” he whines, grinding harshly once, twice. “Want you inside me, want you to breed me.”

You didn’t expect that, but you’re a doctor, after all; it’s kinda in the job description to roll with the punches, so you do. “You wanna get fucked full of pups?” you ask, teasing and light, but Gorou’s mouth parts as a loud whine crawls out of his chest.

“Yes! Please.” Thick tears begin to drop from his eyes, saltwater dribbling onto the bare skin of your throat. “Now, now—breed me now,” he begs, and you coo at him, bringing your hands to curl into his hair, rubbing soothing circles into the base of one puppydog ear.

“Patience, pup.”

And, because he’s Gorou, and Gorou is nothing but a good boy, he nods, rapid-quick movements of his head, and begins to slow on your thigh. Heat shimmers low in your belly as he steps back from you on shaky legs, a wet splotch across your leg from his cunt. You bring a hand down, meaning to scoop it up off your pant, but your finger brushes two distinctly different textures: his natural slick, and fuckin’ lube. “Did you prepare yourself for me?”

“Y-yeah,” he mutters, tail tucking itself between his legs. You almost cringe at that, knowing he’s smearing himself into his own fur, but if he doesn’t mind, then you won’t either; besides, it’s hard to truly care when your boyfriend is so bashful in front of you. “I—I missed you, ‘nd wanted to be ready for you.”

The image of Gorou, ass up on the bed with four of his fingers stuffed up inside of himself flitters across your mind, makes your cock throb in your britches. Your erection was easy to ignore, earlier; but now it’s abject torture.

However, it’s not nearly as torturous as it was for your boyfriend, and you know this. You know he didn’t cum, know his fingers are far too short to truly reach in deep and press against his g-spot, know his wrist can’t comfortably bend to jerk himself off and finger himself at the same time. So you coo, soft, “Sweet boy. Where’s your toy?”

“Charging,” he mutters.

You grin at that: it’s perfect. “Can you go get it then, puppy?”

With an audible swallow, he nods, rushing for your bedroom. You follow behind him, lethargic but so, so turned on; and while he’s grabbing the vibrator from the corner, you shuck off the rest of your clothes and plop yourself down on the edge of your bed.

He must not expect you to have followed him, however, because once he turns around, he jumps, ears flattening to his head in embarrassment. You only laugh and pat your lap. “C’mere.”

Quickly—and toy in tow—, he shuffles over to you. He stands awkwardly in front of you for a moment before you murmur, “I said c’mere,” and tug him to straddle your lap. The position immediately forces his cock—slick n’ thick, out of its hood and throbbing incessantly—against yours, and he mewls helplessly for a moment, grinds once, twice again, before he grabs the lube to the side of you.

You hadn’t even noticed it there, but now that he’s grabbed it, pointed it out, you feel other wet spots beneath you. He fuckin’ masturbated here, right on the duvet you both sleep under, thinkin’ about you and only you. You’re taking out of your musings when he slathers up your cock in lube, messy and sloppy, and then he’s rising, positioning you, and sinking right on down.

“Mm!” he cries out, swiveling his hips to take you in deeper, deeper, deeper. You groan at the lube-slick combination that smothers your cock in Gorou, Gorou, Gorou. “Breed me, breed me!” Each meak plea makes your cock pulse inside him, and he mewls at each throb inside him. “Please!”

“I got you, pup,” you murmur, your edge so close you can taste it on the tip of your tongue. “Just make yourself feel good, and I’ll breed you, okay? Okay, puppy?”

“Okay, okay—”

You grin. “Good boy,” you say, and then he’s tumbling over the edge and bringing you right down with him. You groan into his throat, feeling the vibrations of his whimpers n’ whining moans as he’s getting thoroughly bred. Your hands ruck up his shirt to hold his sides and soothe him down from his high. “You did so good for me, sweetheart. Bred you just like I promised I would, hm?”

He weakly nods. “Thank you,” he mumbles, nosing at your throat.

And, well. You’re bloody exhausted, and you promised to breed him, and he can’t keep on being bred if you pull out. You tell yourself you’re only upholding your promise as Gorou falls asleep on your cock, breathing deep on your lap: tell yourself that it’s the lingering tiredness that suddenly seems to hit you in full-force that keeps him warm and snug on you.

Really, clean-up can wait.

i got a lil' carried away on lyney's part ,, o(*^＠^*)o also, none of these were really cowgirl 'cos reader was sitting up for it . . . i couldn't think of how to have him lay flat in these scenarios LOLL

13 MAR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .

#ㅤ✦【 ASKS 】#i used to have very frequent headaches and the only way i could abate them was:#1) midol (god's gift to earth i stg)#and 2) jrking off.#so !!#sub genshin #genshin smut #genshin x reader #sub gaming #gaming x reader #sub lyney #lyney x reader #sub gorou #gorou x reader #lord .#top reader #dom reader #amab reader #male reader

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hannie-dul-set · 4 months

Text

YOURS TO KEEP.

p — SHEN QUANRUI x female! reader. g — college! au, exchange student! ricky, fluff, very very lightly angsty. w — swearing, alcohol consumption. kdrama references and misquoted quotes. 3.2k words.

note — dreamt of ricky. vomited out.....ricky as ur cute bf who behaves like a cat and whose favorite forms of cross-cultural exchange is receiving headpats and watching kdramas. only 2 scenes are actually inspired by my dream 😭 if someone guesses which line/s were extracted directly from my dream, i'll reward u with a gyuvin drabble how about that 👍

you picked up a cat from the university’s foreign exchange program.

however, he did not come in a box. he came in a louis vuitton tracksuit and balenciaga sunglasses, which very much caught you off guard when you came to meet him at the admin building, and you greet him after mustering the courage to finally walk up to the cat’s imposing presence. “h—hello! are you perhaps shen quanrui?”

he takes off his sunglasses, meets you with a pair of pretty swoopy, pretty eyes, and says, “oh. yes. are you my owner?”

you pause. you’re taken aback because that...that doesn’t sound like the right word. “ah, um. i’m the person assigned to help you around the campus and the city for the semester, yes! it’s nice to meet you!” but you brush it off because of language barriers and all. his mouth falls into an ‘o’ shape when you tell him the correct term.

“oh, sorry.”

“it’s alright!” you say. “hope we get along!”

quanrui tells you that you can just call him ricky, and gives you a small smile. one of many that you’ll be graced with for the duration of the semester.

“i’ll be in your care.”

your new cat is a little intimidating at first, clad in all black at all times. the night you helped him first settle into his dorm, even his pajamas were reminiscent of an abyss— like a white ragdoll trying to disguise itself as a panther because you later find out that he’s actually a really sweet, really polite, and really clingy cat.

“um. knock, knock.”

you look up from your laptop, ricky in a long leather coat hesitantly peeking out from your half-open bedroom door (you gave him a copy of your apartment key. your cat needs a way to get in by himself somehow). he texted you earlier, asking if you can help him out with an essay, and you assume he’s right here right now for that very reason.

“do you have your paper?” you ask, closing your laptop. he nods and lifts up his ipad, showing it off. you have a very cute cat. you scoot aside and pat the empty space on your bed, and ricky comes padding in, mattress sinking when he settles beside you, making sure to maintain a respectable enough distance and hands you his device with the google doc open.

“oh. i marked the parts where i’m not sure about my vocabulary,” he mentions the moment a yellow highlighted part came up on the screen.

you give it a once over. “i think this is right. yeah, you did good.” when you turn your head, you’re met with a pair of proudly sparkling eyes. you stifle out a laugh. “what? do you want a head pat for that?”

“maybe i deserve one?”

you let your fingers sink into the fluff on the top of his head. again, he’s really sweet, really polite, and really clingy. but maybe a little too clingy sometimes, especially when he finally got a lot more comfortable around you.

comfortable enough to hiss at your friends.

“oh, you signed up as a student-helper for the exchange program too?” hanbin asks after seeing you walk in the classroom with ricky in row, trailing behind you like a shadow.

“yeah, i can’t miss the extra points prof choi baited us with.” you nudge ricky with your elbow, noticing how tense he is all of a sudden and how he’s looking at your senior with a bit of a glare. perhaps he’s threatened by another feline presence.

“nice to meet you!” hanbin greets with a bright, an arm outstretched before you, meant for ricky, but he keeps tucking himself behind you with his hands fixed on your shoulders.

hanbin has his hand left unshaked for five seconds too long now. you nudge him again. he won’t budge.

“ah, ricky is still a little shy!” you exclaim, trying to salvage the situation by grabbing hanbin’s hand instead with both of yours, swinging it around, left and right. you’re lucky your senior is so easygoing. he laughs along with you and says of course, of course, he totally gets it, merrily swinging your arms together back and forth. “he’s still not that confident with his korean. right, ricky?”

“keep holding her and i’ll claw your eyes out.”

you freeze. you leer back at ricky shen, giving him your what the fuck are you saying look? he maintains his stance, tugging you back by the shoulders. you twitch out a smile and try your best to defend your clingy and jealous cat. “ahaha. he’s picked up some weird things from all the dramas he’s been watching,” you say. “sorry about that seonbae! we’ll get to our seats now!”

“haha, it’s alright! nice to meet you ricky!”

“what was that?”you snap back at him the moment hanbin leaves the premises. all ricky does is shrugs and steadies his hold on your shoulders, aiming your body somewhere and he starts making you walk to the back of the classroom— far, far away from where hanbin is sitting.

your cat is a little weird sometimes, sure. gyuvin finds him entertaining enough though. they play tennis every weekend, and ricky started picking up even more weird things from him and all the rest of your friends that you’re starting to think they’re not very good influences.

case in point—

“if you drink this, we’re dating.”

the grape juice he poured into your paper cup nearly spills over from shock. you look at him, eyes wide and brows furrowed, cheeks burning and heart racing because what the hell? “seriously, where have you been learning these things?”

ricky looks satisfied for eliciting that kind of reaction. he pours himself a paper cup of grape juice as well because it’s a weeknight, and you have a quiz tomorrow, and getting wasted is off of the table, so you two settled for juice and chips on your living room floor to relish in your academic misery.

“jiwoong hyung and gunwookie recommended me some movies for me to watch.” he sets down the juice bottle after screwing the cap shut, and you fear the other movies those two gremlins recommended him come from a list of top 50 movie pick-up up lines to woo an unsuspecting victim. next thing you know, he’s gonna invite you to have ramen at his place or go see freaking butterflies with him. “i just watched a moment to remember earlier. my pronunciation is getting better, right?”

ricky is looking at you with his eyes all big and his lips all pressed together expectantly. he’s waiting for your praise. you feel your chest swell. the grape juice feels heavy in your hand. gosh, he’s such a needy cat. a needy cat that deserves all the praise in the world.

“yeah. i’m proud of you. c’mere.”

you leave your cup on the table to focus on more important things— that is, giving ricky his well deserved pats on the head. you don’t recall how your relationship with him managed to get this far, still remembering how intimidated you felt when you first met him. now he’s on your living room floor, head laying back on your couch with a drama playing on the tiny laptop screen settled on the coffee table, both of you barely paying attention because he’s looking at something on his phone, and you’re gently rubbing his head as you reply to some messages on yours.

“ah, gyuvin is seriously annoying,” you complain. “he’s trying to get me to join his club. coding club he says, when i’m pretty sure he’s just starting it as an excuse to play games on campus.”

“are you going to join?” he asks, bumping his head against your palm when you stop giving him scratches.

“mm, i don’t think so.” you set down your phone to pour all your focus into satisfying your needy cat’s attention requirements. ricky lets out a satisfied rumble when set his head down onto your lap, raking your fingers through the tufts of his hair as he lets his eyes flutter to a close. “i’m already too busy this semester to bother with those things. maybe next time if he’s that desperate to fill in the member numbers..”

“yeah,” he mutters. “you’ll be too busy spending most of your time with me.”

your fingers stop moving.

ricky looks up at you, confused as to why you stopped petting him, and you’d eat him right up if you could. but you can’t keep your cat for too long. it’s only a matter of time before you get your last opportunity to coddle him like this, to shower him in unabashed affection disguised as friendship because the exchange program is temporary, and he’s returning back to china at the end of the semester.

so why is he raising your hopes up if he’s just going to leave anyway?

“i meant my acads, silly,” you say, picking up your untouched juice cup from the table, feeling the weight of the drink slosh around the paper cup as you let it hover in front of your lips.

he’s raising your hopes up and you’re letting him. you know this is gonna end in a disaster.

still.

“but if you put it that way—”

the sharp taste of sweet grapes hits the back of your throat, swallowing down the lukewarm juice that’s been sitting since ricky poured a cup for you. if you’re gonna crash down at the end of this, might as well crash down from two thousand feet above the ground.

“are we dating now?”

you set the cup back down on the table, gaze flickered down at ricky, whose face is flushed in surprise one moment— easing into understanding the next, and he props himself up from your lap, reaching out for the back of your neck to pull you into a sugary tart kiss.

yeah, you think, feeling the softness of his lips brush against yours, his eyelashes tickling your cheeks when he pulls you in even closer. if your time with him has a deadline, might as well make the most out of it.

“i was disappointed when you didn’t drink it the first time,” he says, drunk on sweet juice and the feeling of your mouth against his. “jiwoong hyung said that line was effective.”

“can you not think about another man when i’m kissing you?”

he lets out a laugh, “‘m sorry,” then presses a fluttering kiss on your temple, tip of your nose, until his lips meet yours once more at last. “let me try again. ahem. i like you. i don’t need a rainbow.”

“you got the line wrong, baek yijin. try again next time.”

if he’s going to leave anyway, might as well make his departure as heart wrenching as all the dramas he’s so fond of watching.

“looks like our friend here got more than just extra credit for volunteering to help out the exchange students.”

you look up from the stack of papers on your table, only to have more dropped off by taerae with a thunk. hanbin, gyuvin, matthew and ricky are also loitering around the classroom— not that they’re helping you and taerae check the test papers your profs asked you to grade as a favor. at least the constant yelling and arguing and meowing noises(?) are making things a lot more lively.

“congrats, you lucky bitch,” he says.

“you sound like you want to covet my cat,” you raise a brow at him, adding the new set to your pile as taerae grabs a new stack as well.

“your cat for this mutt,” he points his thumb at matthew, who’s currently tucked in the to answer an evaluation sheet on taerae. ricky’s doing the same evaluation about you, somewhere. you’re not sure where your cat went, but he’s probably just around. “are you perhaps open for negotiation?”

“matthew isn’t a mutt. he’s a cute golden retriever.”

“well, your cat doesn��t seem to appreciate you calling someone else cute.”

taerae swerves off to reveal a pouting ricky. he’s got his arms crossed, the evaluation sheet folded in between the fingers of his right hand, and you have to hold back a laugh. “did you finish my evaluation?” you ask.

“i did, but i wanna redo it now. negative points for you,” he protests, but lets you snatch the paper from him anyway. you scoot your chair to the left to give him some space next to you. he grabs an empty armchair and nudges his nose close to your face when you start reading his note at the bottom.

“mid-semester evaluation. my student-helper is very acommodatimg. she has been helping me adjust to korea very well. you spelled accommodating wrong, angel.”

“i did it on purpose to test you. good job. you pass.”

you roll your eyes, free hand absentmindedly reaching out for the top of his head, and you hear ricky let out a noise of satisfaction. “she always answers my questions and is…very pretty and smells nice,” you set the paper down. your cat is looking at you expectantly. “ricky, i don’t think you can submit this.”

“why not?” he asks. “professor choi said to be as honest as possible.”

your cheeks grow warm.

gosh. this makes things even harder knowing your cat has to leave eventually.

“what did i tell you?”

the convenience store lights need to be replaced soon, you note. it keeps flickering intermittently against the dim night— reminiscent of how you’re feeling right now when you called jiwoong out for a few drinks two weeks before finals, but you’re not depressed because finals are near. you’re wallowing in tear stained sniffles because the exchange program will be over soon, meaning you only have two weeks until ricky has to pack his bags and leaves.

“not to get too attached because he has to say goodbye eventually,” you lament, a puddle of soju burning your lips. jiwoong looks at your pathetic state with remorseful sigh.

“and what did you do?” he says.

“got too attached and now i have to say goodbye to him eventually.” you groan and swallow down a shot. you’re about to pour yourself another, but jiwoong pulls back the bottle— maybe your third one of the night, you’re not sure— away from your reach, and pushes you a plastic bottle of water instead.

“you just had to go ahead and start dating him like an idiot,” he cracks open the water for you when you don’t do anything with it. he pours it in a shot glass, and you take the bait, drinking down the water, eyebrows furrowing when it doesn’t burn your throat like you expected. “maybe if you tell him to say, he might listen to you.”

you let out a gasp. “i can’t do that! that’d be so selfish of me!”

jiwoong can’t do anything to help you but share your miseries tonight. he simply sits in silence, waiting for the owner of the number he texted a while ago to make an appearance, and listen to your drunk ramblings at eleven in the evening.

“i miss my cat. i haven’t seen him the entire day because he says he had things to do with hanbin and hao.” you’ve melted into the table. high pitched whines aside, he’s surprised you’re still coherent at this point. “bring me back my cat. i miss him so much. i miss my cat. i miss my ricky. i wish he’d never leave me.”

jiwoongs eyes flit up. “looks like your cat misses you too.” he pulls himself up from his chair and picks up his jacket from the backrest. “took you long enough.”

when you tip your head back in confusion, wondering who the hell jiwoong is talking to, you’re pleasantly surprised to see the upside-down face of the cat you’ve been missing.

“ah,” you sound out. “you’re here.”

“thanks, hyung,” ricky settles a hand on the top of your head. you blink. now you understand why he liked headpats so much. “i’ll take care of her from here.”

this is eye opening. you feel your eyelids growing heavier as ricky continues to massage your head, his and jiwoong’s faraway voices talking about something, something you can’t really hear, until jiwoong waves off, and it’s just you and ricky in front of the quiet flickering lights of the convenience store entrance.

you hear yourself whine when ricky’s hand disappears from the top of your head. “you should’ve called me if you missed me,” he says, circling from behind the chair to being in front of you now. he crouches down, settling his crossed arms on your lap, and he looks up at you with his pretty swoopy eyes. “why didn’t you call me?”

“i need to get used to you not being around even if i miss you,” you say, letting your fingers sink into the soft strands of his hair.

ricky lets out a questioning hum. “why wouldn’t i be around?”

“because your deadline is near,” you grumble. “i have to return you to where i first picked you up, but i don’t want to. but you have to. this sucks so much.”

you’re still saddled with insobriety, and the fact that your sweet cat isn’t purring like usual when you’re patting his head is making your bottom lip quiver and your eyes sting because you fear you might’ve said something wrong. “aren’t you gonna ask me what i did today?” he simply asks. you suck in a wavering breath and swallow a lump in your throat.

“what...did you do today?”

“hanbin hyung helped me settle the requirements for my transfer” ricky lands a gentle hold on your wrist and brings your hand down to the side of his face, cupping his cheek. it’s warm. “i’m going to continue attending here. hao hyung is too.”

you blink at him. “w—what?”

“i don’t have to leave. you don’t have to keep missing me.” he brings your hand down palm to the front of his lips, pressing a kiss into your palm. “i’m not going anywhere. i’m yours to keep.”

it takes you a moment to register ricky’s words, so you stay there for a while— sitting frozen in cold silence until the warmth of his messages finally settles in to thaw you out. oh, you think. “oh,” you repeat out loud, voice wavering. ricky hums out a smile at your reaction. he rises, pulling you up to your feet, and you stumble into him.

“i think i know the perfect line for this moment,” he says, steadying a hold on the small of your back. “what was it? if I don't see you, i get upset. If you're depressed, i get curious. something like that?”

“it’s the other way around, dummy.” you sniffle. “why do you keep quoting nam joohyuk?”

“because he’s cool,” he says. “let’s go watch start-up at your place once you’ve sobered up.”

the cat you picked from the university’s foreign exchange program is clingy, sweet, and is for some reason obsessed with quoting the dramas he’s been watching. he keeps an arm around you when he walks you back to your apartment after grieving over his departure, only to kiss you with the news that you don’t have to return him any time soon.

YOURS TO KEEP. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

#shen ricky x reader #ricky x reader #zb1 ricky x reader #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 x reader #ricky shen x reader #shen quanrui x reader #zb1 ricky x you #zerobaseone x you #zb1 x you #zerobaseone scenarios #shen ricky fluff #ricky shen fluff #zb1 fluff #zerobaseone imagines #zb1 imagines

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teatoptony · 4 months

Text

High Enough (Without the Mary Jane)

summary; 'in every other universe, gwen stacy falls for spider-man. and in every other universe, it doesn’t end well'. you don't want to be a mary jane anymore.

or, in which you were the mindy s. mcpherson to miles's prowler

pairing(s); e-1610! Miles Morales x fem!reader, e-42! Miles Morales x fem!reader (r is referred to with she/her pronouns, no physical description.)

warning(s); fem spanish terms are used ('hermosa' etc.), reader’s hand is smaller than Miles’. author can’t write action sequences for shit.

may be ooc but we haven't seen a whole lot of p!miles yet so there isn’t really much to go off of

implied/mentioned parental issues with reader, not proofread, written (mostly) at ao3 hours

a/n; according to google the sinister 6 of e42 are doc oc, vulture, electro, rhino, sandman and scorpion, although i've seen some other ppl say that the eastereggs are vulture, rhino, scorpion, sandman, shocker, kraven and electro. i'm going w the google one, maybe kraven and shocker are their own thing. also they're prolly rich aholes since their signs are on buildings n stuff, so that's what i went with.

also reader was sent to earth 42, but like, a few days before 1610 miles arrives, kind of like how gwen was sent to 1610 a week before she found miles

Miles — or, who you assumed was Miles, anyway — took you back to his place, going out of his way to avoid alleys where there weren't many people around and sticking to the bigger streets. You found it kind of weird. Back home, you and Miles used to cut through backstreets and even some sketchy buildings all the time to make it home before curfew.

You felt him steal glances at you the whole walk, and you’d be lying if you didn’t do the same.

This version of him just felt so.. different.

Once the two of you reached your destination, he let you up the stairs first before quietly calling for you to stop once you reached his floor. You hesitated for a moment on the steps. It was a higher level than Miles’s flat back home, and the building had looked a lot different from what you’d seen just half an hour ago, even if it still felt familiar. You’d chalked it up to the multiverse doing multiverse things at first, but he was starting to act a little off.

Having been around your Miles for years, you knew all his tells. You could see how his weight shifted on his feet as he unlocked the door. You could see he was overall standing straighter and more tense. You could see the hesitation before he turned the key.

Miles was lying to you. And he felt guilty.

But what were you going to do?

This universe was new to you. Sure, everything seemed just about the same, but it was all so foreign at the same time. There where skyscrapers you’d never seen before, new graffiti on the streets of the same couple people over and over again - all of whom you were sure you’d seen somewhere before but couldn’t quite grasp where. The sight of buildings blocked by yellow tape and more in the process of repair after seemingly being burned down or blown up were common in this world, like it was an active war zone or something.

You really didn’t have a choice but to follow along.

He opened the door and waved you in, closing the door rather hastily after the both of you.

You took a glance around the room. There were metal bars on the windows, to keep people out or trap them in you couldn't quite figure. There was a DJ setup near them that looked awfully familiar. Hooks hung down from the unfinished ceiling, some holding chains and others oddly shaped items haphazardly wrapped with what looked like brown lunchbag paper. Wires and ventilation just about everywhere, most of the wires leading to either monitors or gadgets you assumed were in the progress of being built. An old, beat up couch and some gym gear by the wall, an open kitchen-slash-workshop area straight ahead.

The only source of light was the neon red from the signs outside the window, and even then the farther bits of the apartment remained a dark purple hue.

Then someone came out of the other room.

“What's this?”

The hell—?

From the shadows, Aaron Davis emerged.

His beard was more grown out then you'd ever seen, and his features looked sharper, almost rougher. His shoulders seemed more broad, though maybe that was the heavy jacket he wore making him look bigger than he actually was.

“¿Tío?”

Miles had taken you around to his uncle's a couple of times, which you now realized was why you recognized this place. Aaron raised an eyebrow at you, surprise flashing across his face before it was quickly wiped out. He looked over you, taling in your appearance.

“Miles.” He asked again.

“I dunno,” the boy replied, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets and avoiding his uncle's gaze. “Just found her on the way home.”

“Found her?”

Aaron glanced at you, then back to Miles, then back to you, his eyebrows furrowed in either confusion or frustration. He finally looked back at his nephew, the two of them having a silent conversation you couldn’t read.

“…Fine.” Aaron sighed, turning around—

You felt like you were dying, or being born, or possibly both at the same time. For a split second, you were nothing but particles, your skin and bones and just about everything being ripped apart then sewn back together. Your vision was a mix between TV static and rapid fire neon colors, and it was about the same deal with your hearing (which was concerning, since you couldn't usually hear colors).

Miles had taken a step forward, letting you grab his arms to keep you from falling over as he said something you couldn’t quite hear. Aaron had whipped around so fast you wondered how it didn’t give him whiplash, fists at the ready in case he needed them.

“What was that?” Miles’s voice finally got through to you, the high-pitched screaming in your ears dying down. You blinked at him as your mind went blank.

“I don’t—” You cut yourself off. Wait, was it..? Had you just..?

“Complete cellular decay.” You recalled Miles’s countless retellings of the multiversal mess that had happened just about two years ago. “I’m glitching, aren’t I?”

“Right, and you know this because..?” Aaron asked, his hands now at his sides but not eased yet. He eyed your face as if he was expecting you to grow a third eye or something. Honestly, you couldn’t blame him.

“Okay, so, this might sound crazy,” You started, “but I’m from another dimension.

“We had something like this happen back home a while back — except, y’know, people came into our dimension rather than people from ours going somewhere else.

“The people that came, they were glitching, too. Their atoms were displaced and decaying.”

“So you’re saying,” Miles spoke up, his grip tightening around your forearms just slightly. “If you stay here too long—”

“I’ll die, yeah.” You said, the reality of the situation hitting you like a KTX. “Disintegrate, to be more accurate.”

Silence filled the flat as all three of you processed the information. Miles was frozen, his gaze fixated on the spot where your hands grabbed onto him as if he was scared you’d disappear if he looked away. Aaron crossed his arms, his eyes darting from left to right like he was reading some invisible text.

As for you, you felt unreal. Your body didn’t feel like your own anymore, your vision more like looking at the screen of a first-person shooter. Were you going to die here? You didn’t want to die yet. What would your dad think? Would he file a police report? Would Miles’s dad send out a search party to look for you? And Miles—

You hadn’t even said goodbye to him at the party.

You hadn’t said goodbye to anyone.

I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna die I don’t—

“Hey,” Miles says, his voice softer than earlier, snapping you out of your spiral. His hands slide down your forearms and slip into your own, giving them a firm squeeze. “No vas a morir.”

You’re not gonna die.

“Te llevaré a casa.” The boy said, his deep brown eyes bore into yours, slowly bringing you back from feeling like you’re looking at a video game to feeling more like you’re lucid dreaming. It wasn’t a total fix, but it’s a start. “I’ll get you home, I promise.”

You took a deep breath, trying and failing to ground yourself more.

“What’s five things you hear?” Miles asked gently, tilting his head and leaning ever so slightly closer to you. You just blinked, overwhelmed with everything.

“Mi vida,” he said again. “Five things.”

You paused for a moment.

Sirens outside.

Yelling from the streets.

Chains clinking in the breeze from the open window.

Aaron shuffling around in the other room. When had he left?

The buzzing of the lights overhead.

“Good.” Miles said encouragingly. “Now, four things you see.”

Miles.

A pan on the kitchen stove.

The DJ table by the windows.

Tio Aaron pulling out the couch to make a sofa bed.

“Three things you can touch here.”

Miles.

The ground if you bent down, you guessed.

Some trinkets on the table just over there, but you’re not gonna touch that.

“Two you can smell?”

Rusted metal. There’s tons of it around; on the walls, the ceiling, tables, even on the shelves. What was that chest plate doing back there, anyway?

That pool smell, which is kinda gross since it came from the chlorine in pool water mixed with all the gross stuff that came from human bodies.

Miles smiled as you said that. “Vuelves a mí, mi sol.” He squeezed your hands again. “One thing you can taste.”

“I dunno, soda? We had a ton of it at the party.” You wiggled your fingers. It was like you were stepping into your body for the first time — nothing was a perfect fit just yet, like a pair of knitted gloves with too much room at the ends of the fingers. You’d have to get used to it again.

It’s then that Aaron called Miles over, the boy reluctantly leaving your side and following his uncle to the other room. He told you to make yourself comfortable on the couch before he went, though, so that’s exactly what you did. The spring cushions feel oddly comforting under you, the familiarity of home twisted just slightly out of proportion.

There’s really nothing to do alone here. You tapped your fingers on your leg. Thankfully, Miles and Aaron came back after just a few minutes.

The first thing the boy said to you, “I’m gonna get you home.” A firmer, more certain repetition of his promise from a minute ago, albeit there’s a bit of a strain in his voice as if it physically hurt him to say it. In a clumsy yet swift motion, he quickly leaned down and kissed your cheek before making his exit rather hurriedly.

You felt the heat rush to your face, your hand coming up almost immediately to touch the spot.

Aaron chuckled and shook his head.

“So,” he said. “You as smart as she was, too?”

You tinkered with the gauntlet of a prototype suit that Aaron had dug out of storage somewhere, the man himself working on the main body. The helmet — or was it more of a mask? It was a bit bulkier than Miles's Spider-Man mask, a bit more tech-y. Probably more similar to an Iron Man helmet, now that you think about it, albeit lower in its level of advancement — was plugged into one of the many monitors strewn about the flat.

You'd managed to pry a couple bits of information out of him for the past few hours (during which you hadn't glitched again, thankfully) in exchange for some of your own. So far you knew that this universe’s Jefferson Morales had passed away a few years ago, prompting Miles to take on the mantle of the Prowler to avenge his father’s death — the details of which he stayed frustratingly vague on — and, later on, to keep the city as safe as he could.

“Wait, wait, who’s your Spider-Man, then?”

“Who’s Spider-Man?”

You blinked in confusion. “What? You don’t have a Spider-Person?”

“What, like, a part-spider guy? Nah. Scorpion’s mostly bug though, that count?”

This dimension didn’t have a Spider-Man. That was why the city was so overrun with bad guys.

You gave him a general rundown of the whole ‘radioactive spider’ thing and moved on.

Your own variant, who was Miles’s best friend and had helped make a lot of his gear, had disappeared a while after the Prowler started taking out some bad guys that were a step above villain-of-the-week, the ones who had all sorts of shady connections. Hearing about your presumed death was a strange experience.

“We know they took her,” The older man had said, jamming his screwdriver into a faulty part of the suit. “But the cops are all in on it ever since the Cartel bought ‘em out. Declared her dead after less than 24 hours.”

Oh, speaking of, apparently there was a team of villains bringing Gotham to life in New York, Brooklyn being the heart of it all. How fun.

The Sinister Six Cartel, as the Bugel had dubbed them, was the one Aaron and Miles believed to be behind your variant’s disappearance. The two were certain that the Cartel had worked out a connection between you and the Prowler. The nail on the coffin was when they sent a body double of you in the Prowler’s direction to mess with his head just a couple months ago, complete with some sort of Face Off style mask that made it possible for the fake to look exactly like you. It was only a day or two before Miles figured out it was a setup, but it had shaken him up pretty bad.

“I thought you were another one.” He’d admitted. “But then you did the whole glitchy thing. Looked horrible, by the way, real nasty. It hurt much?”

“You have no idea.”

In return, you told him about home. You told him how Miles’s dad was up for a promotion, practically Captain already. You told him about your Miles’s art and how he made a mural of him after his death. You didn’t go into too much detail about the ‘death’ part, focusing more on the peaceful aspects since it was so clearly missing from his every day life. You couldn’t really read this Aaron Davis that well since he was more guarded than he had been back home, but you could tell he appreciated it; especially the parts about his brother.

You also told him how Miles and the other Spider-People who were sent to your dimension had worked out a solution to fix their situation, and gave him a brief summary of the whole ordeal, the details of which he texted Miles since he hadn’t given you a chance to tell him about it when he left so hastily. He said something you couldn’t quite make out as he did — you caught the words ‘lab’ and ‘property’, but that was pretty much it. He only waved it off as nothing when you asked him about it.

“How’s my dad?” You asked, pushing your hand into the gauntlet to test if it worked right. It was a near perfect fit, which made you wonder who exactly it was for, since Miles’s hand was bigger than yours. “Is he doing okay? After the whole ‘declared dead’ thing?”

“He’s holding up, just like the rest of us,” Aaron replied, checking on the monitor. “Your mom — her mom’s been sticking around. Grief brings people together and all that. They’re trying therapy.”

A weird feeling bubbled up inside. While it was good to know at least one version of your parents were trying to reconcile, it bothered you that your absence had prompted it. Was that what was happening right now back home? Had your disappearance magically brought your parents back together? Had it even been long enough for that to happen, or did time flow equally throughout the multiverse?

…

Would it be better for them if you just didn’t go back at all?

“Oh.” You said, nodding slightly as you flexed and wiggled your fingers in the gauntlet, watching the way it moved. It was a lot thinner than the claws that adorned the Prowler’s hands from what you’d spotted here and there in the flat, built to be stealthier in the way it functioned. There were no clunks or clinks, just soft whirring noises that sounded almost like a cat’s purr. “That’s good, I guess.”

It was worse this time around, which you didn’t even know was possible. You felt yourself being split in a billion different directions, parts of you re-atomizing not quite in the right places. You’d never known the feeling of having space between where all your joints were supposed to connect, but now you did, and it honestly made you want to die. Not really. Well…

Miles came back sometime before dawn. You heard the door opening slowly, almost like he was trying not to wake his parents up as he was sneaking in past curfew. Not that he used the door ever since he could climb walls, but still.

He crept into his uncle’s flat, even leaving his shoes at the door so he wouldn’t make too much noise. He was making his way to the other room when he looked at you on the couch, only to flinch in surprise when he saw your eyes were open.

“¿Qué haces despierto?” He whispered, his shoulders tenser than earlier from the split second of adrenaline. “It’s late.”

“What are you doing that you have to sneak in?” You whispered back. The boy just shrugged.

“Oh, you know…” He trailed off, looking around to avoid your questioning gaze. “…Stuff.”

You rolled your eyes. “That has gotta be the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Miles huffed, shuffling over to you and sitting down on the floor in front of the couch, facing you. “Yeah, well, I asked you first. Why’re you up, hermosa?”

You sighed. “Can’t sleep.”

“Why not?”

“Oh, I don’t know, the thought of my impending doom, maybe.”

A couple beats passed by without a word from either of you, a bit of awkwardness hanging in the air, though it was accompanied by a familiar sense of comfort.

“Do you trust me?” Miles asked, his hand reaching out to gently grab a corner of the blanket draped over you.

“Probably.” You replied. You hadn’t known him long enough to trust him just yet, as much as you wanted to. The corners of his lips tilted up just a bit in an almost smile.

“Then trust that I’ll do whatever it takes to get you home.” He said. “I already lost you once, I’m not letting that happen again.”

The next day was pretty uneventful. For the most part, anyway, if you don’t count the random glitching throughout. You were advised heavily against going outside since the Cartel had eyes everywhere, so your area of activity was limited to the flat. Miles had evidently snuck back out after your little talk the night before, which made you feel a tinge disappointed since you wanted to get to know him better. Fortunately, Aaron said you could help with the suit again.

The TV played in the background as you tapped on the keyboard, giving the helmet a few final touch-ups as the sun set outside the window. J. Jonah Jameson jabbered on about this week’s biggest disasters and lamented about how ‘if only there was a hero to save this city’, which made you snort.

“He’s gonna switch up real quick if a hero does show up,” You remarked to Aaron, who looked at you questioningly. “The guy hates Spider-Man back home.”

“What, Jameson?” He said, raising an eyebrow. “Nah, he’s the biggest Captain America fanboy out there. Loves heroes an’ all that.”

He thought for a moment. “Pretty sure Miles saw him at Comicon that one time too.”

“What’s a Comicon?”

Unfortunately, you never got the answer as you heard the lock on the door slide open. You spun around in your chair to greet Miles as you knew he was supposed to be coming by sometime in the evening, but your friendly smile quickly faded as his expression turned to one of shock, catching a glimpse of what the two of you were working on.

The boy froze as he stared, wide-eyed, at the suit. “Tio,” He said, looking at Aaron as he clenched his jaw. “What’s that doing out?”

“She needs a suit.” The older man answered simply.

“What?” Both you and Miles asked, though you could tell it was for vastly different reasons.

“We need to get into Alchemax to get her home, and we can’t do that unless she has protection.”

“Which is why I came here to make a plan!” Miles shouted, his hands moving animatedly, the way your Miles's always did when he got upset. “Eso, eso no le pertenece. ¡No es para ella!”

They had a back and forth as the pieces came together as to why Miles was so upset.

The suit was supposed to be for you.

His you.

You were, essentially, fixing up a dead girl's clothes to wear.

“The Cartel isn't stupid, Miles,” Aaron tried to make the boy see his point. “Even if we somehow made a distraction big enough for the big ones to leave base, there's still gonna be someone left to guard it. Would you be able to live with yourself if she got hurt? Or worse—”

“Don't.” Miles's nails dug into his palms, leaving dark cresent moons in their wake. Aaron sighed.

“If she got hurt, you'd feel like that's on you. If you got hurt protecting her 'cause she doesn't have anything to protect herelf with, then I'd feel like that's on me.” He said, his features softening as he reasoned with his nephew. “This is the best bet.”

“We could build her a new suit—”

“And take what? Couple days? A week? Two weeks?”

He glanced at you, Miles following his gaze towards you as well. You knew what was implied. The only people you knew this happened to had gone maybe over a week before the glitching became a real problem, and they were superhuman. Who knew how long you had?

“She can wear mine. We have a ton of old ones, I'll just take one of those—”

“I'm not gonna let you get hurt for her, kid.”

“Don't call me that.”

They went back and forth for a while, and eventually Miles went to the other room to cool off and think things through. Aaron sighed, wiping a hand across his face.

“No offense.” He said to you.

“None taken.” You replied, not really knowing what to do. It felt wrong for you to be tinkering with something that was so clearly not meant for you, even if it was for a variant of yourself.

You could hear Miles pacing the other room, muttering to himself.

“Maybe I could...” You trailed off.

“You could try talking him into it,” He suggested. “He'll listen to you more than me right now.”

“...Should I, though?” You couldn't even begin to imagine what Miles was feeling. All this multiverse shit was too damn complicated.

“Look, kid, I know it's weird.” Aaron said, shoulders sagging just a bit. “But this—” he pointed to the suit— “is the best way to make sure no one gets hurt. Trust me.”

There was something he wasn't telling you, but he didn't have to for you to know what it was. Miles thought you were alive, somewhere out there. You knew it was entirely possible that he blamed himself for your disappearance, as it was your own version of him's go-to for anything and everything that went wrong. The shadows under his eyes, that look whenever he saw you... you wondered how many nights he'd spent outside, looking for some trace of you, a new lead to follow. Especially since your arrival.

Aaron thought this was the best chance Miles would ever get to let go of you. To get some sort of closure by sending you home.

“…I'll try.” You finally agreed, getting up from your seat and shuffling to the other room. You hesitated before going in, but the lack of a door made it awkward to linger, so you just bit the bullet and walked inside.

The room in question was more of a faux-veranda (which explained the no-door thing); a long, narrow space separated from the main living area by a sheet of drywall, with one of the wider walls filled with shelves of CDs and albums and the other decorated sparingly with old band and movie posters along with Miles-brand stickers.

“So...” You said, fiddling with your hands as you took a look around the area. You gestured at one of the stickers on the wall. “Did you make that?”

Slowing to a stop to face you, Miles nodded, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

“Cool.”

You both stood there in silence for a moment, you working out what to say and Miles trying to come up with some other solution to the problem. The boy had an unhealthy obsession, that much he knew, but he just couldn't bring himself to let go of it. Not when you could be out there, just waiting for him to find you.

“I don't want to push you,” You started hesitantly. “But.. I think your tìo may be right.”

“I know that.” He looked at his feet as if the dirt on his shoes was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world, the sight of him reminisent of a little kid getting scolded by his mother. “I know that.”

“I can't say I understand.. whatever's going through your head right now,” You said, taking a step towards him. “But he just wants what's best for you.”

“What's best for me is finding—” He cut himself off when his eyes met yours, frustration and confusion and stubbornness and sadness and who knows what else all mixing into a big mish-mash of conflicting thoughts inside of him. He clenched his fists, tilting his head up as he tried to think clearly. To his dismay, his throat closed up, the familiar sting of tears pricking at his eyes.

“I need to find her.” He muttered, putting a hand over his eyes in an attempt to stop his tears from falling. It didn't work. “I need to find you.”

“And you will.” You were sure of it. Aaron and Miles were both so sure that their you was alive... she had to be. “But right now? Right now, I need you to help me out.”

He looked at you, his gaze almost spaced out for a moment. You wondered if he saw her in you — if she had the same haircut, the same eyes, the same accent...

You could tell he was frustrated by the way that the scrunch above his nose wouldn’t go away. Hesitantly, you reached out, wiping away the tracks stray tears had left on his cheeks. He stiffened for a moment.

“...Fine.” He finally muttered, a hand coming up to grab your arm, though he seemed unsure if he wanted to push it away or pull it closer. So he just held it in place, his thumb brushing over the inside of your wrist, the edge of your palm. His posture relaxed, just a bit. “Okay.”

Two days later, it wasn't too dark when the plan set into action.

Security at Alchemax — once belonging to Kingpin, now in posession of the Sinister Six Cartel — was thinnest sometime around six to seven pm, when dinner breaks, shift changes and the checkout of regular scientists were prominent.

Miles and Aaron had each set up time bombs at multiple smaller warehouses the Cartel used for storage, each coordinated to go off within minutes of each other. With little to no heroes or police in the way, the Cartel had no reason to keep their lesser important stocks well-guarded, which made it easy to sneak explosives into some of the shipments, support beams and pipes.

Once the explosions were set off, Aaron would use some rip-off Mysterio tech to make projections of some new vigilante gang, with each fake member leading the forces of the Cartel away from Alchemax. During this went on, Miles would sneak you in and to the Super Collider (which, surprisingly, had not been scrapped since its change of ownership) through the vents—

“Wait, wait, isn’t there like, a tunnel that can get us directly to the Collider?” You’d asked, remembering what Miles had told you when he first told you how he became Spider-Man.

“It got sealed off.” Aaron had said. “Some sort of supercharged electromagnetic thing. They did that with all the major underground entry points. Can’t shut it off without blacking out half of Brooklyn.”

“Or getting fried.” Miles had said. “The generators powering each point are all hooked up together a single system, como una mente colmena. You attack one of ‘em directly, all the others shoot a billion bolts of energy into you. And we don’t have time to hack into and get past the firewall to shut the thing down.”

—which you would navigate by memorizing a blueprint of Alchemax that had been conveniently leaked in a mass Cartel server leak a couple months ago. Miles would then plug in the goober he, Aaron and you had made using information gathered via Aaron's 'friends', and send you home.

It was a simple mission. Maybe a bit too simple, but you didn't really have much a choice when you were on a time crunch with limited information. Besides, Occam's razor.

“Copy?” Aaron's voice asked from your earpiece.

“Copy.” You answered, followed by Miles from his own communicator.

“A-6 is a go in 3.. 2...”

Boom.

A couple blocks away, a cloud of dust shot into the air. The building you and Miles were on the roof of shivered slightly as storage unit A-6 blew up.

“A-27.”

Boom.

“C-15.”

Boom.

From your vantage point, you had a clear view of what was going on at Alchemax without the risk of anyone down there catching a glimpse of you. You could see the non-combat scientists scrambling to get to their cars and the armed guards being led by weirdly dressed villains in the direction of the explosions. Although you supposed you weren't quite qualified to comment on the 'weirdly dressed' part at the moment, since you and Miles weren't much better in your respective suits.

Speaking of, Miles hadn't talked much ever since he first saw you wearing the suit. His responses were short if he even gave one, although you could feel him sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren't looking.

Miles fixed the gauntlet on his hand one last time before shuffling closer to you. “Ready?”

His voice sounded strange to you, his actual voice coming through your earpiece overlapping with the voice coming through his modulator.

“Mhm.”

“Going in.”

You hooked your arms around his shoulders and his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tight as a grapple shot out of his gauntlet. He used it almost exactly like how Miles used his webshooters, although his actions were a bit more... forceful? Rougher around the edges, if that made sense.

As your feet left solid concrete, the city sped by underneath the both of you, a pretty blend of neon and gray. Your suit prevented you from actually feeling the air whipping by, but a fraction of the wind managed to seep through the cracks, sending a chill down your spine as your stomach dropped at the sudden decline.

For a moment, gravity seemed to disappear. The laws of physics no longer felt like they effected you in any meaningful way. Anything and everything that had been weighing down on you — this whole situation, Miles, demanding schoolwork at Visions, your parents and their myriad of problems — no longer held you down.

It was exhilarating.

Your 'flight', so to speak, was over almost as soon as it started. You tucked your legs as you reached the roof of the Alchemax building, separating from Miles and rolling to lessen the impact. Surprisingly, the move came quite naturally to you, even without practice. You chalked it off as something you'd learned when you were a toddler, when your mom used to sign you up for all sorts of extracurriculars. You were pretty sure martial arts or something had been one of them; maybe you'd learned it there.

Your heart pounded as the sudden rush of adrenaline faded away, and you found yourself wishing it didn't. The thrill was addicting, as was the freedom that came with it. It was like a rollercoaster, or watching How to Train Your Dragon in 4D for the first time, only a hundred times better.

Miles had never taken you swinging. He'd never exactly told you why, always brushing off your request with something like a 'maybe later' or 'I can't right now', but you knew why.

Swinging together was a him and Gwen thing.

And you were fine with that.

What, like you were gonna be jealous about something as small as that? Pfft. No way. Nope. Nada.

“¿Estás bien?” Miles asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. You nodded in confirmation.

The two of you pried open a vent using the gloves of your suit, which was easier than you’d expected it to be. To your surprise, the claws that extended from them were very useful.

“We’re in.” You muttered as you crawled into the duct, hoping Aaron wasn’t having any trouble on his end. He’d been awful quiet… Then again, no news is good news on a mission, right?

Miles crawled in after you. “You remember the way?”

“Yeah.”

Together you made your way to the underground levels of the building, miraculously avoiding any possible dead ends or mouse traps. That musty smell of mold and concrete reached your senses as you reached the deeper parts.

There weren’t many people at the Super Collider, thanks to the diversion and timing. Miles gestured for you to stay put as he swiftly dropped out of the vents, knocking out the few guards there one by one with relative ease. It was strange seeing him fight; so similar to yet completely different from him. You were doing as told and observing from the vents until you saw one of the last three people — a scientist, by the looks of it — sneaking up on Miles from behind while he was preoccupied with the two other guards.

You quickly dropped down from your spot, landing behind the guard and catching him by surprise as he whirled around with his weird-techy-science gun. Dropping to the ground, you swept your leg under his, toppling him over and knocking the weapon out of his hands. You were about to knock him out when—

“Peter Parker?”

Are you kidding me?

You were certain it was him. This Peter was scrawnier, his hair more sandy blond than Peter Parker’s back home (before he passed, anyway), and he wore thick, black-rimmed glasses that perched awkwardly on his slightly crooked nose. But the ID that read ‘Peter Parker’ in big bold letters around his neck was a pretty solid indicator.

“…Yes?” He almost squeaked out.

Meanwhile, Miles had dealt with the two guards, stepping over them to get to the console. “Sácalo y entra ahí.” He called, fumbling a little as he tried to figure out which buttons to push to fire up the Collider.

“We have a bit of a situation..” You said, pulling Peter up by his arm and dragging him to the console as well.

You gave him a hushed explanation of your unwillingness to hurt the guy, and how you believed he was genuinely a good person. After all, this universe was almost the same as yours, right? Peter Parker couldn’t be that different here…

“And besides, he probably knows how to work this thing. It’d be helpful.”

Miles sighed. “…Fine, I won’t knock him out,” He agreed. Turning to Peter, he asked, “How do you start the Collider?”

Peter gulped, everything in his body language screaming ‘I want to run away’. “You- you need codes,” He stammered out. “Approval codes, from—”

“Don’t care.” Miles cut him off, giving him a brief glance at the goober. “Just start it. ¿Lo pilla?”

Peter nodded hastily and got to work, pressing buttons and switching levers as you made your way down to the Super Collider. There was a catwalk that ran from one side of the machine to the other, connecting the two mechanisms. If you got to the middle of it, you could jump off and into the portal once the Collider was at full output. Sure enough, its huge metal plates clinked and clattered as they slowly sprung to life.

This was it. You were finally going home.

Just then, you heard a thunk along with some choice words in Spanish, and looked over to the source to see Peter out cold on the ground.

“He got to the panic button!” Miles said, scowling to himself as he plugged in the goober, praying that this plan would work out in the next minute or so. Bubble-like particles appeared at the two points of the machine that faced each other, the noise it emitted now making it so that you could only properly make out what Miles was saying through your earpiece.

The Collider whirred and sputtered as the bubbles grew bigger and brighter, eventually bursting into two beams of light that met each other in the middle, creating one big sphere with a bunch of little bubbles going in and out of it and surrounding it. The sphere grew larger and larger until it collapsed in on itself, sprouting thin, curvy lines.

The thing grew bigger and bigger until it was about the size of a person, you could feel it starting to pull you in. You just had to wait for Miles’s go ahead—

Ow.

What the hell?

You were suddenly sprawled on the ground, something having tackled you at what felt like a hundred miles an hour. That something — or rather, someone — skid to a halt just a few feet away from you, dragging a hand across the tiled floor and leaving… scratch marks?

Scrambling to your feet, you crouched in a defensive stance as you looked over the newcomer.

There wasn’t a single inch of skin showing, their suit covering the whole of their person. The suit in question was mostly white, with some gray sprinkled in here and there. It reminded you of Eve from Wall-E or a Stormtrooper, maybe a mix of both. Strangely enough, the mask was just a blank slate; a sleek, white panel with no features or details, kind of like one of those LED face masks.

Overall it was kind of… boring? It didn’t inspire fear nor did it seem very imposing or something of the sort, which you’d think would be a priority for a villain organization. If anything it was bland, the only thing that stood out from the suit being its hands which donned gauntlets that looked similar to yours, but slimmer and more polished, more accurately described as gloves rather than gauntlets. They had claws just like yours, albeit they looked sharper, a bit more gnarled.

“Miles?” You called, your heartbeat quickening. “What’s going on?”

You heard a grunt from his end. You didn’t look to see what was happening, not daring to take your eyes off of your attacker, but you guessed that backup from Peter’s panic signal had arrived.

“What’s going on?” Aaron echoed, his voice slightly fuzzy. Before you could answer, your attacker lunged. You managed to doge a full on body slam, but they grabbed your arm instead, using it to flip you over their body and knocking the wind out of you.

You writhed as you hit the ground, managing to rip your arm out of their grasp and landing a kick on their ankle, causing them to stumble. You took the opportunity to get up and put some distance between the two of you, though you didn’t get far before the lunatic started chasing you. They jumped at you again but you turned around at the last second, and as you were pushed back with their claws digging into your shoulders you kicked both of your legs out into their stomach just as your back hit the ground, sending them straight over your head.

“Tìo, get your nephew, now!” You shouted, rolling away just in time to avoid a punch that landed on the floor where your head had been just a second ago. “It all went to shit, get him out!”

The pull from the Collider was getting stronger, tiny scraps like bolts and papers flying through the air and towards the beam of light. You raced back to the catwalk but were once again stopped by the 29th century Stormtrooper. You yelped as you felt something grab the back of your neck, sharp claws piercing through your suit and digging into your skin as your head was thrown harshly against a metal beam.

And just like that, you were on the ground. Again. What was this, like, the third time? Fourth? Great. Just fantastic.

I’m not even supposed to be here, you thought, grabbing at your opponent’s wrists as their hands wrapped around your neck, slowly choking you. They were stronger than you were, faster, clearly more skilled. What were you thinking? You’re not a fighter — you couldn’t beat them, not like this.

Why was the universe so intent on making you miserable? You were just trying to get home, maybe not die. Not dying would be nice. But no. You couldn’t have nice things, could you? Not your own life, not Miles, your own damn parents were happier in a reality where you weren’t in the picture—

A sudden surge of anger made you lash out. The universe could go fuck itself. You weren’t dying like this. Not when your ticket home was right in front of you.

Your gauntlet caught your attacker’s mask, knocking it off.

You knew that face.

It was the same face that looked back at you every time you looked at a mirror.

Well, not exactly, you supposed. There was a certain roughness in her features, the same as how Miles looked different from Miles. But you’d know those eyes anywhere. But they were… what’s the word, fuzzy? Unfocused? It was like her body was on autopilot while her brain was off in Hawaii or something.

The thing you did next could’ve won you the prize for ‘smartest dumb decision of the year’.

In all your oxygen-deprivated brilliance, you retracted your mask.

It might shake her, was your reasoning. It would confuse anyone to see a doppelgänger in a fight.

Or, you know, it could go totally wrong and she could punch your face in. But you were already getting choked, so, what was there to lose?

And it worked.

Her eyes shifted back into focus as her grip slackened, and you quickly shoved her — or is it you? yourself? — off, gasping for air. You could vaguely make out the outline of a giant scorpion-guy going one-on-one with Miles, who seemed to be holding out pretty well. He was favoring his left hand though, when usually he used his right.

“I— wha—? Where—” You heard from your left. Your alternate universe counterpart looked around the lab, her eyes wide and movements jerky like a wild animal on drugs.

You were about to say something when a loud buzzing came through your comm, which had evidently been damaged in the whole head-beam connection thing. Miles’s voice came through in broken pieces.

“Col— get..t— ov-rload—”

The Collider. The goober could only force an incomplete system to run for so long. Your time was up.

Wonderful.

A flash of blinding light came from the machine as it malfunctioned. The goober could only make an incomplete system work for so long. You were just able to get your helmet back on before everyone in the vicinity was pushed back in an explosion. Was that Aaron—?

After your temporary blindness wore off, you made out the aftermath, a high-pitched ringing in your ear as you dazedly looked around. The glass that separated the control area from the Collider had been shattered, the Scorpion twitching as he tried to get to his feet — did he have feet? Now’s really not the time — There was no sign of Miles or Aaron anywhere, which was either very good or very bad. You decided to believe it was the former for your own sake. A short distance away from you was another you, that one unconscious but still breathing, from the looks of it.

Grabbing your variant, you ripped open a vent on the wall before the Scorpion could take notice of either of you, shoving her in before following suit and placing the vent cover back on. You had to get out of here. Fast.

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aloesarchives · 5 months

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JJK Headcanon: Megumi cockblocks Toji/Megumi "Menace" Fushiguro/ Toji having beef with his 15 yr old son

Warning: Swearing, Female reader, Mentions of sexual activities but not explicit, ooc on Megumi’s part, Toji being Toji

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Toji x Fem!Reader(romantic), Megumi x Mom!reader(parental/platonic)

Pronouns: She/Her(Reader is referred to as mom, mama, and mother by Toji and Megumi)

Word Count: 2.2K

(A/N: This is based on my one-shot I did and I wanted to expand on it because I just felt the need to. This headcanon went off the rails and is in different directions. Let me know if I missed any warnings!)

[Edited and Proofread! on 12/9/23 8:05pm. Forgive the strange format, Tumblr wouldn’t let me edit the post so I had to do it on the original doc and paste the edited version.]

Please enjoy!

So Megumi cock blocking Toji started out unintentionally and by accident. But as he got older, he did it more to annoy his dad and get on his nerves.

I will die on this hill but Megumi is a Mama's boy. Though it goes unsaid(by him at least), everyone knows it. Toji knows it, Gojo knows it, his classmates and friends know it, and everyone at Jujutsu High knows it. Hell, his own shadows know it.

Obviously you know it but you don’t want to embarrass your son. But it does fill you with love and contentment to know your son loves you dearly.

But that’s the problem, he LOVES you. Loves you more than Toji. Well, Megumi loves Toji as a dad and father. It’s just as he gets older, especially as a teenager, he often butts heads with Toji and gets fairly annoyed by his presence. All Toji has to do is breathe in Megumi’s direction and your son groans, rolls his eyes, and leaves.

When Megumi was younger, he was attached to you. You were always carrying him inside the house, when you were cooking, and even when folding the laundry. He didn’t like being far from you. All you had to do was be within 6 feet of your son or where he can see you and he will be fine.

So when Toji holds Megumi because you need to get or do something where you can’t bring your son, Megumi is all fussy and cranky. He doesn’t cry often but he is just all over Toji. Pulling at his hair, shirt, and cheek. Toji has been mostly successful with Megumi when putting him down for a nap, feeding or bathing him but sometimes it’s a struggle.

When you do it for Megumi, he is all cooperative and easy to handle. Toji clicks his tongue when he sees it happen and looks at Megumi as your son nuzzles into your shoulder. “I see how it is Megumi. All nice and easy for Mama but not for me.”

After successfully putting Megumi to bed, Toji gets frisky as wants some alone time with you. Since Megumi was born, your son has taken up most of your time. Leaving your poor husband with a lack of attention and affection. You want to make it up to him for lost time so you let him have his way with you.

However, just before Toji could go down on you and make you see stars, you hear Megumi’s crying. So out of instinct, you grab one of Toji’s shirts and make your way to comfort your son. Half the time, the mood gets instantly lost and Toji gets sexually frustrated. He was so close to boning you and your son just has to stop him from doing so.

Toji gets blue balls so many times during Megumi’s youth, it’s a straight-up crime to him.

There are times when Toji doesn’t care if Megumi starts to cry in his bed. He read somewhere that babies just cry for no reason so at times let them cry it out. When he reads that, he’s not letting you out of his grasp when his son is crying in his crib. You feel the urge to comfort him but when Toji makes you wait a couple minutes and start to hear Megumi’s cries grow quieter, then they stop. That gives you two the green light to each other to yourselves.

75% Toji would have success with you but there was the other 25% he didn’t.

When Megumi was a toddler, he mostly would knock on your door in the dead of night either because he had a nightmare or wanted to sleep with you two. Luckily, this happens after your “nightly session” with Toji.

But Megumi would ask Toji to help him with stuff or pop up out of nowhere when wanted to have a piece of you. Toji hugging your front and cups your body while you cook? Megumi is by the kitchen table asking what are you making for dinner. Toji cages you against the wall as you put away the laundry? Megumi pops his head out of his room and asks Toji if he saw his dog plushie that was on his bed.

But Megumi’s clinginess to you is genetic because Toji is the exact same to you. Way before Megumi was on the drawing board, Toji was either all over you or near you. No in between, it was one or the other.

You felt bad because it feels like your son and your husband are fighting for your attention. You know Megumi’s a child, who needs more guidance and help, but you know your husband has needs too.

But as Megumi goes to school, it was easier for you two to have some alone time. Mostly easier for Toji to be inside of you.

But as Megumi gets the hang of summoning his shadows, it’s all over for Toji. This happens when he’s older as Megumi sometimes lets his dogs out and roam around the house. Like their user, the dogs and shadows love you too. One time, they saw Toji being too close to you and thought he was harassing you. So the dogs ran and pounced on Toji. One of them caught Toji’s wrists in their mouth and started pulling him away from you. Obviously, you called Megumi over to stop his dogs or to call them back. He does so but not without giving Toji a smirk, he definitely may or may not put his dogs up to it just to fuck around with his dad.

For the timely and observant boy he is, Megumi really is just popping in at the wrong times. He didn’t mean to do that to you, he’s well aware of how much you love Toji, both body and soul. He just doesn’t like how Toji isn’t quick and sleek with his intentions with you. Sure, it was Toji’s house and he can do whatever he wants in it. But Megumi also lives here too, so Toji should be more cautious and considerate of his son. Because everyone knows that they would rather bury themselves than see their parents try to give them another sibling.

Though Megumi now dorms at Jujutsu High because of missions, he does come home on weekends and breaks. But it varies from time to time, he would mostly tell you in advance when he would come home or visit. But he sometimes forgets and just drops by unannounced.

Thus, that’s how scenarios like this occur.

He will come home, sometimes knocking/ringing the doorbell but mostly lets himself in, then he walks inside, takes off his shoes, and goes to the living room. His heart slightly beats faster as he awaits the inevitable. It’s like a coin toss, 50/50 chance he’ll be safe or not. He relaxes when he doesn't stumble upon another eye bleaching but when he encounters the other 50%. He cringes inside so hard, he just blames Toji. Nah, he never blames you.

Yes, he’s well aware of men and women having… carnal desires… But you were never shameless about it in public or out in the open. He doesn’t know when it’s just Toji and you. But frankly, he DOES NOT WANT to know or find out. So he believes his father is just a dog in heat almost every time there is an OUNCE of spare time with you.

He either coughs, grunts or speaks to make his presence known. 99% of the time when this happens you are the one to push yourself away from Toji and try to make the situation less awkward for your son. It always ends up embarrassing you in the end.

Toji, in his head, lowkey wants to smack his son to another dimension. Way too salty in his mind.

‘Brat, let me have a moment with your mother, it’s not that hard.’ ‘IDGAF if you're my son, I’ll smack and give hands to my own son if you keep doing this.’

Like father like son, Megumi is doing the same thing in his head.

‘That’s a skill issue’ ‘This is an issue, not an iss-me’ ‘You fell off, what happened? Cause you’re too old?’ ‘Fucking cope, Old Man’.

Because of this, Toji literally has beef with his 15-year-old son.

Should he be pressed about someone younger than him? No! Does he care? Also No. If this man can beef and fight Gojo Satoru and LIVE to see another day, he can have beef with anyone.

Even if it’s his own son.

You should be a good parent and spouse and try to dissipate the fact your husband and son have an unspoken feud with each other. But you can’t help but watch everything unfold when they interact sometimes because it’s just funny and you get a kick out of it.

Just to clarify, it’s never a shouting match or an actual argument. It’s more of petty insults, backhanded compliments, or brutal honesty minus the honesty. It’s like being a spectator at an event. You were watching for entertainment and you were getting your money’s worth. When you would come by Jujutsu High, you would talk about Megumi and Toji’s “interactions”. Saying something along the lines of “They don’t see eye to eye.”

One day, Toji and you decided to pay a visit to the campus because Principal Yagi needed to ask you about something in person. Since it was only you, Toji just wandered the halls and the school’s grounds, waiting for you to be done. As the odds were in his favor as he stumbled upon Megumi and his group doing some training. Toji just pops in and starts talking to Megumi. He acknowledged Yuuji and Nobara but he didn’t spare a glance at Gojo. In fact, he straight up looked at Gojo, gave a look of disgust, and continued talking to Megumi whilst ignoring him.

It didn’t take for some banter to rise between father and son, while no loud voices or malice was felt or seen. This was probably the few times Yuuji and Nobara had seen Megumi get heated, but this was the first time they saw Megumi beefing with his dad.

After a few minutes, Megumi summoned his shadows and Toji decided to change into his fighting stances. Yuuji thinks this is a bad idea but Gojo just smiles, saying that seeing them spar was a “learning experience”. Plus it would be good for Yuuji to watch Toji because Toji was a physical fighter considering his Heavenly Restriction. Though Yuuji has some curse energy, he must box it out with his opponents so he considered and the three watched the two fight it out.

Megumi forgot his old man was an actual threat to the Jujutsu Society because Toji was straight up dodging Megumi’s shadows, their attacks, and even Megumi's own physical attacks. Though Toji wanted to have a little fun, he had to hold back so he wouldn't destroy/kill any of Megumi’s shadows. If he did, you would definitely find out and he would be a dead man for sure.

Anyway, it was so fast-paced that only Gojo was keeping up with the action. He was smiling but he had a shiver up his spine as he remembered that Megumi’s dad was the very reason for his enlightenment and Hollow Purple ability. It was obvious that Megumi wasn’t going to win but he wasn’t one to admit defeat. Then like a blur, Toji charged at Megumi from above and when he landed he created a decently large cater with Megumi at the center. Megumi’s shadows disappear since he is low on curse energy and is completely exhausted.

Both men were heaving and sweating like crazy. Yet out of nowhere, they suddenly hear your voice, LOUD and DESTRESS. You ran over to the two, eyes widening as the carter became bigger the closer you got. You see your son lying on the floor and help him up. You tried dusting off some of the dirt on him while looking concerned. You snapped your head towards Toji, whose smirk disappeared and then returned back again. You began to reprimand him for what he had done. Fighting his own son and damaging the training grounds, like wtf man.

You weren’t really raising your voice or yelling at him. But the firmness and seriousness in your tone about the small sparring session was enough to make someone straighten their posture and use very respective language towards you. There were moments where you tugged at Toji’s ear, pulled at his shirt so he was looking straight at you, or held his forearm tightly while you expressed your disappointment and concerns to him.

Ngl, Toji was a bit bricked up when you were all serious and angry at him. He didn’t mind sleeping on the couch if it meant he got to see this side of yours more often.

Megumi reassures you that he is not physically hurt but his pride is wounded. You told him that if his dad pulled this again, to not engage with it and back off for his own safety. Megumi, because of his agitated mood, felt a bit offended that you didn’t believe your own son could hold his own. Let alone, go toe to toe with his own father.

“Mom, I don’t understand. Why don’t you trust me in fights even though I can handle myself.”

“Megumi, sweetheart, it’s not like that at all. I know you are a strong, smart, and capable person. You are my son, after all.”

“Then why don’t you want me to fight with dad?”

“Oh Megumi, honey. You have no idea the strength and capabilities of your father. You do realize, my dear, your dad was holding back a lot when he was sparring with you.”

Megumi looks shocked at his Pops, who winks at him, before turning his attention back to you.

“Wait, what? Just how strong is he, Mom?”

You didn’t give him a full answer.

All you said was, “Ask your teacher, Megumi.”

Megumi and his two classmates look at their teacher to see what you were talking about all the while Gojo was sweating bullets. That’s a story for another day, now you are dragging your husband home and telling your son to call you if anything changes.

So Toji and Megumi have eternal beef with each other. Though it’s more of annoyance and for shits and giggles really. Toji really does love his son and Megumi loves and respects his dad a lot.

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Thank you for reading and hope you have an amazing day with your favorite drink!

#x reader #reader insert #x female reader #fem reader #jjk x reader #jjk toji #jjk megumi #jjk headcanons #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x y/n #toji x you #dad!toji #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #toji fushigro x reader

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chososdiscordkitten · 4 months

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Obsessive!Choso♡ pt3

pt 2 here content: Choso refers to reader as his gf- other than that no use of pronouns. mention of reader wearing lipstick, obsessive crush to stalker arc :>

(a.n) this is slowly becoming a fic and I don't hate it. I felt lack of inspo last night and did a deep dive into what stalkers do- the red flags before they start the actual stalking lol

taglist: @flam3bird

Obsessive!Choso who almost felt his heart burst when he saw you wave hi at him when you walked into class. Smile on your lips as you walk down to your seat. Hearing your friend speak a little louder than a whisper while taking a practice test, seeing you look back at him and make a face almost asking him, ‘can you believe what she's saying?’ before turning around again, watching your friend lean in close to you and keep pestering you. His eyes watching you turn your phone on under your desk, ‘During a test? What are you thinking-’ he thought, mentally scolding you.

Obsessive!Choso who almost died when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, pulling it out and seeing that you had texted him. ‘can u hear her from all the way over there ?’ reading it and hearing your voice. The realization of, ‘you were thinking of me?’ making him slouch in his seat, feeling his heavily pieced ears start to warm. Staring at your text, looking down at you, noticing you had the conversation still open. ‘Are you waiting for me?’ he asked you in his mind. Quickly screenshotting the notification before opening it, ‘yeah, i can.’ he typed, sending it and seeing you turn your head and smile at him. Seeing you look down at your phone, his heart beating quickly when he saw the typing bubble show up. ‘she keeps asking me what the answers are’, smiling when he saw that your auto capitalization was off, another thing you two had in common. ‘is this not a practice test?’ he typed, thinking how crazy it is that he was talking to you. To you! Person of his dreams, everything he wanted in a partner. You. The person who always greets him with a warm smile, who's always nice to him.

Obsessive!Choso whose heart skipped a beat when he saw you move your shoulders, indicating that you were trying not to laugh. ‘I make you laugh?’ looking down at his phone and seeing you had texted again. ‘dont think she knows that’ you replied, putting your phone away and getting back to the paper in front of you. Making sure to remember to ask you why you're friends with someone like that. ‘You're not the same kind of person- or even on the same level mentally. So why would you be friends with someone who does nothing but bother you?’ Thinking he knew everything about your friendship with this person.

Obsessive!Choso who went to the campus coffee shop, in hopes that maybe you'd be there. Knowing from your instagram stories that you usually came to pick up a coffee after one of your classes. Only this time you weren't here. Pulling out his trifold wallet before paying, looking to see he didn't have any cash, trying to find his card. “Pretty girlfriend.” the cashier said, breaking the awkward silence while looking at the photo of you in his wallet. “Sorry?” he asked, looking at them when he found the piece of plastic. “Your girlfriend-” they continued, eyes pointing at the picture. The sentence made him flustered, not paying attention that some people notice small things like that. Smile on his face as he mumbled a quiet ‘I know.’ before tapping his card onto the screen.

Obsessive!Choso kept those few words in his mind whenever he caught a glimpse of his wallpaper. ‘My girlfriend.’ he'd think, smile on his lips when he would refer to you as that.

Obsessive!Choso saw a picture of your laptop and a notebook next to it in your story. Knowing you were home, knowing that you were waiting for him to text you, you had to be right? Opening the google doc on his computer, seeing that you were on it as well. A few minutes of him watching your cursor type a sentence and delete it. Before seeing a message from the upper right corner of his screen. A message from you, ‘Hey, I know it's late. But I hit a wall with this stupid project- could I call you?’ he read, eyes widening at how right he was. Clearing his throat at how forward you were being. Call? As in on the phone with you?

Obsessive!Choso who almost choked when he heard your voice on the phone. Pressing the phone closely to his ear, closing his eyes with a smile when he heard you say- “Heyyyy”, not being able to find the words to say to you. A small ‘hi’ leaving his throat. Hearing you let out a small giggle before hearing you place your phone down. “So i'm on the doc- and I saw you were on it too-” you started, Choso pictured you. Sitting in front of your laptop, smile on your face while speaking. He could tell by just your voice that you were smiling, smiling while talking to him.

Obsessive!Choso who desperately wanted to record the conversation- well, more like record your voice. He wasn't the one speaking a whole lot. You had gotten used to filling the silences he left in the air, being able to tell that he wasn't much of a talker. But little did you know that he was thinking longer replies, but only thinking them. Smiling when he’d hear you ask a question. You started reading aloud what you had written- making sure it sounded right. Choso accidentally let out a low ‘Mhm’ while hearing you read, closing his eyes in regret when he heard you stop. “You sound so different on the phone-” you started, almost a whisper. He exhaled quietly in relief when he heard your fingers start to press onto the keys of your computer. The call didn't last longer than 20 minutes, you just wanted to ask him his opinion on if what you had so far sounded smart or not. But in his mind, the only real reason you called was to speak to him- to hear him.

Obsessive!Choso who felt like he could die when you told him ‘thank you’ for his help. But when you mumbled a tired, “Goodnight Choso-” before you hung up, made his cheeks flush and his heart pound in his chest. The first time you had ever said his name. Immediate regret filling his gut when he remembered he didn't record it. But he would always remember it, always keep it close to his heart in memory.

Obsessive!Choso was walking to the campus coffee shop after class. Seeing you speaking to some guy- probably one of the so called friends you choose to surround yourself with. Slowing his pace when he saw you slowly backing away from him- and nodding no at him. Seeing this guy, reach for your arm, speaking over you as he stepped closer. Even from a distance he could see your face look uncomfortable. At that moment, Choso didn't know what came over him. He walked over- more like storming over. His face full of anger, slapping a sweet smile onto it when he saw you look over at him. “I was just about to go find you.” Making sure to keep a sweet tinge in his tone when he spoke to you. Smile of relief on your face when you saw him. Dark eyeshadow and combat boots almost making you feel safe. A quiet ‘hey’ trailed from your lips, feeling the stranger's hand fall from your arm, taking a step back. “Me too, I wanted to bring up-” you started. Rambling about what the professor had taught today, noticing the guy back off before walking away. Seeing you exhale before looking at his face. “Thank you.” you whispered, looking down at your shoes. “A friend?” he asked, his tone deeper than before. Using the same tone he spoke to you while on the phone. “Absolutely not-” you smiled, looking back up at him. “Just some guy from my public speaking class. He's been bothering me since the first day.” You laughed, seeing him crack a small smile, his hands fidgeting with his rings. “Are you busy? I was just about to go grab a coffee-” you started, looking away from him in the direction of the same coffee shop he was going to.

Obsessive!Choso who thought; ‘Aren't you forward. Trying to spend more time with me?’ as he nodded no, “I'm not.” he replied, his hands in his pockets.

Obsessive!Choso who was convinced you were starting to feel the same way he did, even if it was only a week since they paired you together. I mean, who would ask someone if they wanted to have coffee with you? “Sorry if you had plans- or whatever.” you started, walking slowly next to him. “I didn't.” he mumbled, hearing his boots drag onto the concrete. “The least I could do is buy you a coffee!” you exclaimed, ‘No need to thank me- who else but me will protect you from all the horrible men in the world?’ Choso thought, looking over to see you, remembering all the people who have been broken by men who didn't love them. Knowing that you would never have to worry about those silly things with him.

Obsessive!Choso who purposefully switched the two coffees you had paid for- in hopes he'd be able to share an indirect kiss with you. Knowing if he tried to pay, you'd see the picture of yourself he had in his wallet. Sitting down at one of the round tables, heavily ringed hands around the cup as he looked at you pick up his coffee. Making a face when the sour taste hits your tongue. “I think they switched our cups-” You smiled, pushing his cup towards him. Seeing him mutter a feigned ‘Oh’ as he gave you the correct cup. His eyes focused on the light print of lipstick you had left on the black lid. “I could get you a new one- I know some people are huge germaphobes.” You smiled, taking a sip from your cup to wash the bitter taste from your mouth. “There are worse things in the world than sharing a drink with someone.” He murmured, slouching in his seat, seeing you give him a sweet smile in return.

Obsessive!Choso who took one sip of his coffee, only to assure you that it was okay that you had drank from it. Who felt his knee start to bounce with anticipation when he felt the satiny feeling of your lipstick on his bottom lip. Hearing words falling from your mouth, but not listening to them. Thoughts of how technically that was your first kiss with him. Seeing your phone light up on the table, hearing you sigh loudly. And it continued to light up- repeatedly. “Jesus- this girl doesn’t know how to take a hint.” You exhaled, picking up your phone and typing something. ‘Must be the girl from class.’ he thought.

Obsessive!Choso whose lips moved before his brain could process what he was saying. “The girl from class?” he asked, seeing you look up at him and smile. “Yeah- she keeps trying to come over to my house for a sleepover.” You placed your phone down, “That girl is the epitome of peaked in highschool.” You mumbled, Choso finally found an opportunity to ask you. “Why are you friends with her?” he questioned, seeing you inhale at his words. “I chose this college to get away from all the bullies and all the pretentious people who would live the same boring suburban lives.” You started, “And to become myself- to find myself.” You mumbled, looking away from him. “Imagine my disappointment when I got here and it was full of superficial delta chi’s-” You laughed, seeing him return a smile to you. Humming in response to your words. “I was never good with confrontation- The idea makes me anxious and uneasy.” seeing him look at you with his head in his hand. Eyes half lidded while listening to you. His pointer finger tracing doodles onto the table. Liking the way you opened up to him, letting him get to know you. Being able to hear your unfiltered thoughts, not the bullshit you over thought before you posted on your story.

Obsessive!Choso who paid close attention to what you were saying, hanging onto every word that fell from your lips. Feeling yourself cringe at how you just aired out your business to someone who was practically a stranger, not knowing why it was so easy to speak to him. Somehow never sensing any judgment or lack of interest in what you said. Feeling a wave of relief whenever you were able to speak to him- a real person who didn't care about people's opinions. “Honestly I don't know why I'm still friends with her- I've tried to sit in other seats, hoping she wouldn't sit next to me in that class anymore.” You spoke, finally answering his question. ‘I know. I watched you every time you moved seats.’ Choso replied to your words mentally. “I think the reason I'm failing that class- is that I can't focus on what is being taught because she's in my ear the entire time.” You smiled, easing up on the heavy topic. ‘Aha. I knew you were failing- just like me.’

Obsessive!Choso wanted to suggest that you to sit next to him, knowing your childish friend won't follow you if you did. “Failing?” he asked, eyes scanning your features. “Yeah, I was hoping this-” You sighed, “stupid project would help my grade at least a little.” Closing your eyes and leaning back into your chair. ‘Ask me. Ask me and I'm yours. Ask me to help you.’ he thought, fighting off his excitement when you looked at him. Lightbulb practically popped up above your head, “You're doing good in class, aren't you?” you asked, smile on your lips as he nodded yes without thinking. “I know that we were only paired for this assignment- but would you be ok with helping me study?” You smiled, eyes so bright he swore he could see the universe in them. “Of course.” He smiled, seeing you exhale and look down at the table with a smile.

Obsessive!Choso who almost let out a small giggle when he saw your face flush. ‘Are you- blushing?’ he asked himself. The question you asked him didn't make him nervous. He understood most of what was being taught, but he didn't have the energy to physically write the essays, and besides- Choso preferred spending his free time thinking of you. Not of the stupid course work that he didn't need for real life. Trying to get to know you better through your social media. Dissecting every single photo you posted. Zooming into the background of your bedroom, seeing if he could find anything worth researching. A band poster, a shirt on the floor, a stranded bottle of nail polish he could buy so he would match with you- anything that would let him see you. The real you- not the person that you pretended to be with the fake friends you had. The person he saw a flicker of that day at the cafe. The person you came to this college to become.

pt 4 here

(PLS LET ME KNOW IF U WANNA BE TAGGED IN THE NEXT PART PLSSSS) omg thank god I posted this. I am alr writing pt 4 I don't CARE. this is my new passion, wrote this while listening to 'Such Small Hands- La Dispute' Choso thinks this is all fun and games, what happens when he sees I am crazier than he is ?

#jjk #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso my beloved #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #college au #non curse au #emo choso #sfw jjk

532 notes · View notes

taurusdaylight · 2 years

Text

he fell first, and he fell harder

summary. jeong jaehyun really loves basketball. but also, he’s terribly in love with his childhood best friend of seventeen years, you.

pairing. basketball captain! jaehyun x fem! childhood best friend reader

genre. basketball captain! au, college! au, childhood best friends-to-lovers! au, slow burn, mutual pining, angst with fluff

word count. 18,705

warnings/tags. cursing, drinking, a few angsty moments of quarrelling :(, mentions of food, dual-pov, many many taylor swift references (especially from the lover album!!!) bc i am insane, a few of the other nct members make a cameo in this!

(long) a/n. did i expect the word count? no. i did not… but i’ll never let the jaehyun bolton agenda die down, so i’m immortalising it through my writing. i also don’t know how i’m able to churn out this many words but have trouble coming up with the title… but i thought it would be fitting! (my google doc title is literally “jaehyun bolton” …) this has bits and pieces of high school musical, the summer i turned pretty, and dear. m in it <3 don't usually capitalise my works because it's a bit of a hassle (i write on both mobile and laptop) but since this is a long fic i tried capitalising it... hopefully there aren't many errors lol. sorry for the long a/n but as always i hope you enjoy this~ pls lmk ur thoughts and if i missed out any warnings!!

–

“You coming to my game tomorrow?” Jaehyun asked, eyes not leaving his screen.

Clad in a black hoodie, the Computer Science major had been working on his assignment for the past three hours. Cigarettes After Sex record on loop, it’s occasionally accompanied by his rapid, and sometimes, aggressive keyboard typing. Mumbles of apology follow after he thinks he’s being too disruptive, but you don’t pay any mind to it.

You were on Jaehyun’s bed, begrudgingly watching your lecture that you’d missed on Monday because you slept through your alarm that morning. Alarms, to be exact. Your eyelids already felt heavy from listening to your professor drone on about how rain is formed. No offence to him, but you were simply taking this Geography module to clear your general education credits.

Jaehyun's voice shook you awake, even if it’s just by a little bit. Taking out one of your earbuds even though you’d already paused the video, you looked through the mental image of your calendar that you have in your head to see if you had anything planned for the next day, but nothing came to mind.

“Probably,” you shrugged.

You’ve never been one to miss any of his games, so you most likely cleared your schedule for it already. Besides, it’s not like you could bring yourself to not watch his games in the first place, especially not when your childhood best friend slash neighbour is the star player of the school. Not forgetting that he’s also the captain of the basketball team who has led them to victory after victory through the years.

Being in his life for more than a decade, you wanted nothing more than to be a part of every chapter of Jaehyun’s life, just as how he’s been there for yours.

An elated yes! sounds across the room, causing you to look at him weirdly.

Jaehyun has this habit of saying something, and then getting distracted by something else even though only mere seconds have passed. When he eventually goes back to the topic, he doesn’t remember where to pick up from.

“Sorry. Where was I?” Jaehyun finally turned his chair away from the computer, an indication that he was finally done with his assignment. Making eye contact with your best friend who’s now stretching his arms because he’d been sitting in the same position for a long period of time, you forced yourself to bite back a smile. There’s just something about having extensive knowledge about someone to the point that you’re able to predict their mannerisms. Completing their sentences, even.

“Your game,” you refreshed his bad memory, “I’ll be there.”

“Right,” he smiled.

“Chinese takeout at my place afterwards?” Jaehyun confirmed, and you nodded excitedly in agreement before going back to your lecture.

Ever since Jaehyun started playing for the basketball team in high school, the two of you have made it a point to celebrate with each other by buying takeout from a Chinese restaurant within your neighbourhood.

Don’t get Jaehyun wrong, he’s an extrovert who feeds off the energy that he receives from spending time with other people. It's just unfortunate that celebratory parties did the opposite, draining every bit of his remaining energy that he had left after a physically demanding game.

Socialising skills thrown out of the window, he finds himself wanting to leave even though he’d only arrived at the party for a few minutes. Along with loud party music blasting from the speakers and getting squeezed by random bodies as he tries to make his way around the frat house, his discomfort multiplies tenfold. All he can think about is leaving.

If Jaehyun had a choice, he’d choose not to show up at all, but that would be very rude of him.

So instead, this is what he does: go to the party, strategically mingle around his teammates, and sometimes stick around for a round of beer pong to make it seem like he’s been really involved. By seven-thirty, he’ll be making his way back home to you, waiting for him with his favourite jjamppong.

Of course, Jaehyun enjoyed partying with his teammates. In fact, he’s been through hell and back with them, so it would make the most sense to celebrate the team’s win together considering the amount of time and effort they’ve put in. It's just, Jaehyun loves spending time with you too. It’s as simple as that. Granted, you two practically see each other twenty-four seven. But could any measure of time with you be ever enough? He didn’t think so.

It’s like how the two of you could have separately completed your schoolwork today. Yet, you spent the day together again, which proved that best friends truly didn’t always need a special reason to meet. That’s how things have been between the both of you, and how he intended to keep it.

Shuffled footsteps sounding across the room, Jaehyun walked over to his window to draw the blinds when he noticed that the sun had already started to set, letting some natural light into his room. He turned back, bemusingly shaking his head when his eyes landed on your lying figure. Making yourself comfortable on his bed and snuggling into his blanket, he reckoned that you’ve stopped paying attention to the lecture a long time ago.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty.” Jaehyun turned off the air conditioner and record player, grabbing his phone and wallet from his desk before walking over to his bed. “Let’s get dinner.”

“I wasn’t sleeping!”

You sat up, glaring at Jaehyun because of his false accusation. An incredulous look on his face because of your reaction, he laughed at your poor attempt to fight back. Messy bed hair and tired eyes, anyone would have thought that you’d just woken up from a nap.

“And I’m not done yet, I still have ten minutes of the lecture left,” you informed him. But before you could resume your lecture, Jaehyun hurriedly closed the lid of your laptop, prying it out of your hands to leave it on his desk.

“What was that for? I said I wasn't done.” You whined, his impatience starting to irk you.

“The lecture is two hours long.”

“And?” you asked, not really seeing his point.

“And it’s been three hours!” Jaehyun stated matter-of-factly as though you weren’t aware. “If you actually paid attention, you’d be done by now.”

Your expression darkened at his words.

Now, you’re well aware of the fact that Jaehyun is a top student with multiple scholarships and stellar grades. He never fails to keep up with his weekly readings and always submits his assignments on time. Sometimes it's even submitted days prior to the actual deadline. Jaehyun's consistency is one of the many aspects that you greatly admire about him. Even so, it didn’t feel very nice to have him rub it into your face that he was more productive than you were, given that the both of you had the same duration to complete your individual tasks.

“You’re being very mean, Jaehyun.”

Pulling the blanket away from your body, you got up from his bed. “I may not be a genius like you, but at least I'm trying.” You avoided his eyes, not wanting to look at him in fear that you’ll start a petty argument with him over something so trivial. It's been a long day, so maybe you were being overly sensitive too.

“Hey,” Jaehyun extended a hand out to your forearm, gaze softening upon seeing how upset you looked. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean it like that.”

“I–” his mouth closes, unable to find the right words to say.

“Hey, you look tired. Let’s continue studying after dinner?”

Why didn’t he just say that from the start? It’s not even that difficult. He may not be the best with words, but he sure felt terrible for being the reason you’re upset.

His grip on your arm tightened. “I’m sorry,” his voice resigned, Jaehyun apologised again. “Let's not fight over this, please?”

You removed Jaehyun’s hand from your arm, finally turning to look up at him. And there they were, the infamous puppy eyes he’d give you whenever he wanted to apologise or ask you for a favour. At that sight, you couldn’t help but let a tired sigh leave your lips.

This is the Jaehyun that you’ve come to know.

Treating everything as if it’s a competition. Too honest with his words. Impulsively saying his thoughts out loud without considering how others may interpret it, then realising that it’s too late to take back what he said if it ended up being too harsh. It’s not necessarily a bad thing because you could always depend on him to give you his truthful opinion without sugarcoating. He told you what you needed to hear, not what you wanted to hear.

Nonetheless, it was also times like this that made you wish he’d think before he speaks. Although you were slightly offended by what he said, you also understood where he was coming from. He’s tired, you’re tired, and there’s no better time than now to take a break.

“I accept your apology,” you said, moving to open his room door. “But dinner’s on you.”

“Okay,” Jaehyun responded almost instantly, going over to stand behind you. He placed two hands on your shoulders and started massaging them before saying, “I’ll get you caramel milk tea with pearls too.” And even though you were not facing him, you could already see his frown from earlier disappear.

“With less ice and less sugar,” he added.

You’ll be lying if hearing him repeat your bubble tea order perfectly didn’t bring a smile to your face, but Jeong Jaehyun shall not get the satisfaction of knowing that.

–

You first met Jaehyun when you were five.

It was a Friday afternoon, and you were very excited because your mum promised that she would bring you to the neighbourhood playground. You were supposed to go on Monday, but it has been raining heavily so you had no choice but to (quite literally) take a rain check on that. And fortunately, the sun was finally out today, shining brighter than it ever did this past week.

As a kid, the neighbourhood playground was one of your favourite places. Other than having different types of slides, there was also a suspended rope bridge that you’d occasionally go on if you were feeling slightly more adventurous that day. Mini tree houses situated along the bridge that basically acted as checkpoints for when you’re crossing the bridge, these tree houses were definitely one of your top spots too.

But that day, you were more interested in the sand play area that’s adjacent to the playground. With just two swings in the middle of the sand pit, it was comparably less fun than playing on the slides or going on the tree houses. Though, the fourteen-piece sand castle building set that your mom had recently bought you for your fifth birthday definitely proved otherwise.

For as long as you could remember, visiting the neighbourhood playground had become a weekly occurrence. In the time you spent there, you always had this tendency to notice the other kids who sat around playing in the sand pit. While they were using a variety of tools to build sandcastles of various sizes and shapes, you could only watch them with envious eyes from the tree house. Your parents have always been very generous with buying you toys, so you didn’t want to come off as a spoiled brat by asking for more. Instead, you tried to enjoy your time there with all that you had. Playing catch with the other children, having a competition on who could go down the slide the fastest. It was enough to make you content.

Luckily for you, however, your mum seemed to have caught onto the fact that you too wanted to try building sandcastles, thus buying you one of those sandcastle building sets. You recall unwrapping the gift, screaming in excitement and thanking her profusely by enveloping her into a bear hug and giving her multiple cheek kisses.

With the toys laid out in the sand, you decided to start slow.

Steadying the blue bucket against the sand, you used the shovel and filled it up to the brim, smoothing out the top surface until you were satisfied with it. You carefully tipped the bucket over such that the sand wouldn’t fall out, and silently prayed for the best as you slowly removed the bucket.

“Mummy, look!”

A proud smile on your face, you eagerly pointed to the sandcastle that you’d successfully built on your first try. Seated on the bench diagonally opposite from where you were, she praised you for doing a good job and gave you a thumbs up.

This went on for about the next half an hour or so, as you tried to build as many sandcastles as you could, experimenting with the different toys that you had, even going so far as to smooth out any crevices that you spotted with your bare hands, not caring that the sand particles would dirty them. It was a pity that there was no one else at the playground because it would have been more fun if you had a companion, but this would do for now.

Blowing out your cheeks once you’ve completed your little ‘art project,’ you looked at it with a triumphant smile. Albeit simple, it was pretty decent for a first timer. Although you wanted to keep going, it was admittedly tiring and required a lot of concentration on your part. As such, you decided to call it a day. Cautiously moving the toys away so that you would not accidentally topple the sandcastles over, you started to pack up your things so that your mum didn’t have to wait once she came back from the restroom.

Only, crackles of footsteps over the fallen leaves caused you to cease your packing. Not-so-subtly turning behind to look for the source of the sound, you scratched your head in confusion when there was no one in sight. You shrugged it off, thinking that you misheard it and that it was probably the sound of the bushes rustling since it did become more windy over time. Picking up the plastic shovel, it was the last of your things that you were going to keep before leaving the playground. But just as you were about to put it together with the rest of your stuff, you heard a sniffle. It was silent for a few seconds, and the sniffling continued again. And again.

It sounded like… someone was crying?

With the plastic shovel still in your hand, you took one step back, then two, trying to get as close as you could without making any noise. You wanted to wait until your mum returned, but curiosity got the better of you. It seemed alright to assess the situation first, since you just wanted to check out what the noise was about.

Frankly, you had no idea why you were being so secretive, but perhaps it was because you didn’t want to alarm whoever was there. If they were already crying, you shouldn’t startle them any further, right? At least, that’s what you thought. Upon closer inspection, you realised that they were hiding behind the bushes, and all you could see were their shoes. It was mostly white, the familiar black swoosh logo imprinted on it.

Walk away and pretend you didn’t hear any of this. That thought came straight to your mind when you started to remember the terrifying stories that your parents told you in order to warn you about stranger danger. Your mum would be here soon, so it would be a good time for you to escape too. Just go back to packing your things, and everything will be okay.

But… that would be cruel, a small voice in your head insisted.

No matter how apprehensive you were about this entire situation, a part of you did not want to leave the person alone, whoever they may be. Because you knew that if you were in their position and someone was nearby, you would want them to help you too.

So, with hushed steps, you moved even closer to the bush, instinctively stretching out your hand that carried the shovel. You know, just in case you needed to use it as a weapon if you were attacked. You also made sure to not stray too far away from the sand playing area so that when your mum came back to the bench, you would still be in her line of sight. Turning at the corner so that you could finally take a look at the person behind the crying (and bushes), you slowly raised your arm down such that it was now resting against your side, your gaze fixed on the culprit.

There was a crying boy in front of you.

He had a bowl haircut and was wearing a white crew neck short sleeve t-shirt. He also had really chubby cheeks that resembled peaches. Not that it mattered, but it was one of the few things that caught your attention when you first saw him. His eyes were red and swollen from all the crying, and he had yet to notice your presence yet, still huddled in the bushes. Every now and then, he’d wipe his tear-stained cheeks, but the tears just kept falling and falling like a waterfall. About half a head taller than you, he looked like one of those boys in your kindergarten, so you guessed that he was around your age too.

Seeing as to how the crying boy was literally harmless, the paranoid feeling that you had from before dissipated completely. It was instead replaced by a sense of helplessness. You were usually a good problem solver, but you didn’t know what to do right now. Your parents often distracted you with a toy whenever you were crying, but what could you possibly offer to him when all you had was a silly plastic shovel that was dirtied with sand?

Still determined to make him feel better, you took a deep breath before walking up to the crying boy, two fingers timidly tapping on his shoulder.

“I'm sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.” You quickly apologised with both hands raised up defensively when the boy jolted upright, now looking straight at you with frightened eyes. So much for not wanting to scare him… You were going to be upset at yourself if you made him cry even more.

When he didn’t respond and instead backed away from you, a pang of hurt washed over you. You genuinely didn’t have any ill intentions and just wanted to help him, why couldn’t he see that? What’s more, it wasn’t like you could physically take him down with your comparatively petite size. The only good thing was that he finally stopped crying, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe he was embarrassed by it.

Before you could let any irrational thoughts of leaving him alone consume you, you dared to take another step closer to him, gently placing a palm on his shoulder as assurance that you were not going to hurt him.

“Are you okay? What happened?” you asked.

His shoulders immediately relaxed, but still, no words left his mouth for a few seconds.

“My grandma brought me to feed pigeons,” he explained, and you nodded, prompting him to continue. “But I got scared because a group of them suddenly came up to me. I could only think about running away, so that’s what I did,” he said in between hiccups.

“I heard grandma calling for me, but I just wanted to get away from the birds so I ran all the way here and now I can’t find her.” Tears welling up at the mention of his grandma, you patted his shoulder in an attempt to console him. It was only then that you noticed bits and pieces of uneaten bread in one of his clutched palms. You felt really bad and wanted him to be back with his grandma, safe and sound.

“What's your name?”

You didn’t mean to bombard him with more questions, but surely, you couldn’t refer to him as crying bread boy, especially not if you were going to help him find his grandma.

“Jaehyun,” he answered.

“Jaehyun,” you repeated after him, liking how it was a nice name to call out. At that, Jaehyun asked for your name, also repeating it after you told him.

Looking out in the distance, it was fortunate that you saw your mum walking back from the restroom, about to reach the bench that she’d been sitting on this whole time. You quickly turned back to Jaehyun, a comforting smile etched on your lips.

“My mummy is there,” you gestured at her before continuing, “she’s really nice and will get you home safely to grandma, okay?”

He was silent again, and you wondered if he was doubting you or your intentions. Removing your hand from his shoulder, you grabbed his free hand, intertwining his pinkie with yours, “I promise.”

Jaehyun smiled for the first time ever since you saw him that day, deep dimples forming. “Thank you,” he inched forward, bent down to your eye level, and blew at your temple. “You got sand there. It’s gone now,” he said. You were slightly caught off guard by the close distance, but nevertheless thanked him.

The focus was to find Jaehyun's grandma, you reminded yourself. Without wasting any second, you interlocked the rest of his fingers together with yours, running towards your mum, who had a surprised look on her face. With pursed lips, she still kept a polite smile, gaze shifting from you to Jaehyun as she patiently waited for you to introduce him to her.

Doing the honour of telling her what happened so Jaehyun didn’t have to repeat himself, it turns out that you were right about your mum knowing what to do.

She revealed that the Jeong family actually moved into the empty apartment opposite yours just last week, and she had already met them when Jaehyun and his mum came over to give rice cakes as part of tradition. Due to it being a brief interaction and Jaehyun hiding behind his mum the whole time, that could be why he didn’t recognise your mum at first glance. He was apparently shy when it came to meeting new people, though, you’d like to think that he just enjoyed hiding behind people and things for no reason.

After you’ve gathered all your things, the three of you walked back to your apartment together. Sandwiched in between you and your mum, Jaehyun was holding onto both of your hands. You did not know how he was feeling on the inside, but you could visibly tell that he’d already calmed down.

On the way home, you and Jaehyun ended up talking with each other, pretty much like how you would in kindergarten when getting to know more about a new friend. You learnt that he does not like bright colours and prefers sticking to monochrome colours, his birthday falls on Valentine’s day, and that he’s living here for five years because of his dad’s job. Oh, he enjoys playing basketball too.

The walk to your apartment proved to be faster than expected as you and Jaehyun continued chatting until you reached. The two of you were in your own world, neither of you noticing your mum smiling at how well the both of you got along. It was as if you’ve known each other your entire lives.

His frightened eyes resurfaced while waiting at his front door, certain that he was going to be reprimanded big time for recklessly running away like that. To his surprise, however, the door opened to his mum and grandma standing side by side, the both of them letting out a huge sigh of relief the moment they saw him, not a tinge of anger in their voice or face. Running into their embrace, he apologised for making them worried and promised not to do it ever again.

Other than the few sand particles that stained his once pristine white tee (the culprit shall not be named), they were glad that he made his way back home safely with you and your mum’s help.

Like yin and yang, black and white, Jaehyun and you were two-halves, who by the roundabout way of fate, found your way to each other, complementing and contradicting every bit of your souls in an imperfectly perfect manner that was like no other.

And the rest was history.

–

It was the final game of the season, and also the last day of the junior year. Despite winning all of the previous games by a large margin, Jaehyun didn’t want to get too complacent and take it easy just yet, since they were up against one of the stronger teams today. After all, it was the finals that determined if they would become champion, and if there’s one thing that he learnt growing up, it’s that he should either go big or go home. In other words, it’s either champion or nothing.

Both teams have already arrived at the stadium, now wrapping up their warm-up exercises and ball handling drills as the spectators started to fill up the seats. Out of habit, Jaehyun looked to a particular area in the audience that’s near his team’s benches.

You’ve always been Jaehyun's biggest supporter, not just in basketball, but throughout his life, ever since that fateful meeting.

At age ten, his world almost came crashing down when he thought that he’d have to fly back to the other side of the world since his father’s contract had ended. He couldn’t imagine not having you by his side, and Jaehyun did not want to bid farewell to you, not at that time, not ever. But life had a funny way of working out, because you still ended up being his neighbour when he went back to Seoul, both of you promising that you wouldn’t leave each other’s side.

Because if it weren’t for you, he’s positive that he wouldn’t have made it this far either.

Sad to say, his biggest supporter also happened to have a frequent problem of tardiness. Reaching on time already proved to be a challenge for you, so Jaehyun’s not sure why he expected you to be early for his game. Although you promised him yesterday that you'd come watch him play, he couldn’t help but sulk in disappointment when he did not see the one person that he’s waiting for.

“Don’t worry Cap, she’ll be here soon. You know how it is.” Feeling a bump against his shoulders, Jaehyun looked away from the audience and came face to face with his teammate, who shot him a reassuring smile.

Mark Lee, Vice-captain of the basketball team, and also Jaehyun's ride or die. Meeting through basketball, they’ve been playing alongside each other ever since high school days. Mark was the next person that Jaehyun could comfortably confide in after you, and the closest thing that their bond could be likened to was that of biological brothers.

Save for the celebratory after parties, a few spontaneous outings, and the several common classes that they shared, the two did not typically hang out together on the regular outside of basketball. Even so, having been a part of each other’s lives for so many years, it was not surprising that there’s still a mutual sense of understanding between them. Like how some things don’t need to be said aloud, and you’ll still get it. That was the nature of their friendship. Brotherhood, if you will.

And so, it was only a matter of time before Mark eventually latched onto Jaehyun's undying crush on his long-time childhood best friend of seventeen years, you. The way Jaehyun’s eyes twinkled at the mention of your name in conversations, how his jaw clenched at the sight of his teammates getting too chummy with you for his liking whenever you popped by his training sessions; Jaehyun was obviously not an expert at concealing his feelings for you. And as far as Mark's concerned, these feelings were definitely not platonic.

Jaehyun awkwardly cleared his throat at Mark's words, going over to his team’s benches as if he wasn’t just caught red-handed looking for you in a sea of people. Having a crush in itself was already embarrassing, but it’s worse when other people are aware of it. Even though Jaehyun trusted that Mark isn't the type of person to expose him, it didn’t help that you and Mark were also friends, because the Mark that he knew could not keep a secret to save his life. Case in point: Mark accidentally adding Jaehyun to a group chat with the subject name: Captain’s Birthday Surprise Party.

Perhaps the least of his concerns as of this moment, but someday if Jaehyun ever decided to make his feelings known, he wanted you to hear it directly from him.

“Jae!”

Jaehyun snapped back to reality when he heard a familiar voice, standing up from the benches to look back at that one spot in the audience. Unable to hide his smile, he waved at you, chuckling at the raised banner in your hands that read: MY CAPTAIN ♡ #23.

Wearing the number 23 jersey came with great expectations, and even though Jaehyun was no Michael Jordan, he’d proven himself to be worthy of owning it. Carrying the burden of being the star player and team captain was not easy, to say the least, but Jaehyun was grateful that he has the support of his teammates, and most importantly, you.

There were days in which he got really stressed out because of practice, venting to you about how he needed to stop shooting air balls when it was only days away from the competition. Or when Yuta, his teammate, continuously used illegal contact in spite of his instructions. He could not be emotionally charged when dealing with his teammates, so you were the only person that he could go to.

Unlike him, however, you weren’t familiar with basketball so your responses often came in the form of understanding nods, a listening ear, and becoming a shoulder for him to lean on.

And even that was enough for Jaehyun.

“You can do it!”

Jaehyun thinks back to the time that you tried to cheer him up with encouraging words. It was one of those days in which he ended practice with a heavy mind, and he could only let it all out while ranting to you.

“You’re Jeong Jaehyun, there’s literally nothing you can’t do. Troy Bolton?” you scoffed. “I’ve only ever heard of Jaehyun Bolton!” Jaehyun bursted into laughter the moment he heard that, visibly entertained by how you could come up with something so absurd yet hilarious. But just like magic, Jaehyun also felt a heavy weight lift off his shoulders at your affirmation.

“You’ll do just fine, Captain.” You gave him a comforting pat once he calmed down from laughing, adopting a more serious tone to let him know that you weren’t kidding about him doing well.

Even if it was a spur-in-the-moment kind of thing, it somehow aged really well, for Jeong Jaehyun has never lost a single game in his life, and he didn’t plan on losing any game in the near future.

–

It’s the fourth and final quarter of the game. To be precise, it was down to the last two minutes.

Jaehyun’s team was playing offence, and even though they were in the lead, the opposing team was very close to catching up to their score. These two minutes were extremely crucial.

Eyes trained on the ball, Jaehyun watched Jungwoo dribble it, getting as close as he could to the three-point line. Except, Jungwoo struggled to do so because he was surrounded by the opposing team, which practically made it impossible for him to inch any closer.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

The referee blew the whistle, signalling for Jungwoo to hand the ball over to the opponent because he went past the five-second rule.

Jungwoo wore a look of disappointment on his face, reluctantly passing the ball over. Jaehyun noticed this, and quickly jogged over to his teammate. “It’s okay,” he muttered, patting Jungwoo on the back.

As the seconds went by, the opposing team passed the ball within their team, but never quite made it close to the scoring lines either, Yuta powerfully smacking the ball to block their advances. One of them continuously shouted at their teammate to shoot once there was an opportunity, but he didn't, and Jaehyun guessed it’s because it’s too far and risky a shot to take, especially with the clock ticking.

Failing to make any further advances, they ended up losing their possession of the ball to Jaehyun's team. He signalled for Sungchan to take it, mentally formulating a strategy for him to get the ball over to their scoring zone smoothly. All of them exchanged glances with one another, collectively nodding after Jaehyun held up three fingers.

After the whistle beeped, Sungchan wasted no time in passing the ball to Jungwoo before it could get intercepted.

“Nice!” Jaehyun’s shout echoed, and he ran over to manoeuvre around the empty area just behind the three-point line of their scoring zone.

They had sixty seconds left.

Jungwoo was once again blocked, but unlike before, there was only one defender in front of him this time. Not expecting the ball to leave Sungchan’s hands so quickly, the other defenders were still running from the other side of the court, which gave him a bit of an advantage.

“I'm free!” Mark called out, raising his hand to get Jungwoo’s attention.

Jungwoo always played it safe, so he planned to dribble the ball to ensure that he could make a smooth pass to Mark. But dribbling the ball also made it easy for the defender to snatch the ball away, so he decided against it.

Instead, he steadily raised the ball over his head as though he was about to do a shoulder pass to Mark, then waited for the defender to raise his arms knowing that he would try to smack it down. The second the defender’s hands were raised above his waist level, Jungwoo speedily brought the ball down, successfully bouncing the ball into Mark's hands.

Clearly outnumbered, the defender did not even try to stop Mark’s pass to Jaehyun.

With the ball now in his possession, the entire stadium turned silent, suspense growing as all eyes fell on Jaehyun, waiting for him to take the shot. They’d already won the game, but it was still undeniably exhilarating to watch, considering that there were only eight seconds left until the game ended. Furthermore, it’s a three-pointer at stake here.

It’s now or never.

Jaehyun’s gaze was fixed on the hoop. Flashbacks of his air ball moments started playing in his mind, and he had to shake his head to physically clear out such thoughts. He exhaled deeply, the image of you with the banner that you probably stayed up to finish appearing instead, and he thought back to what you said to him before. No matter how ridiculous, he must admit that your words gave him a boost of confidence that faltered for a while when the opposing team kept scoring earlier. Positioning the ball over his head, he made a jump for it, effortlessly flicking the ball out of his palms…

And he scores.

The crowd erupted in massive applause and loud cheers. Splashes of red, yellow, and white of the team’s flag colour decorated the entire stadium. Jaehyun’s teammates made a run for their captain, engulfing him in a group hug as they celebrated their victory. Before both teams returned to their benches, they lined up in a row for a handshake, mutters of good job and good game exchanged between players and coaches alike.

As he did in every other game, Jaehyun returned to the benches and turned back to look at you. Even though most of the crowd already dispersed, you were still seated there, banner in hand. Pointing at it once again, you mouthed exactly what’s written on it, showing him a thumbs up. Grinning from ear to ear, he did not make any effort to hide his happiness.

Forget movies. If the multiverse was real, Jaehyun hoped there is a version where you become the Gabriella Montez to his Troy Bolton.

–

Summer vacation rolled around soon enough, and before you knew it, you were sitting on the passenger seat of Jaehyun's car, buckling up your seatbelt while he started the engine.

You didn’t usually make any extravagant plans for summer vacation, but this year was slightly different in that both of your families decided to rent out a villa at Fluffel Heights. A three-hour drive away, it’s a small town located up north from your neighbourhood. It’s rare for everyone to be around, so this was the best time to spend the next three months together.

You were supposed to set out at seven in the morning, but as always, you overslept again. Your parents left you a text saying they’d go over to check out the villa with Jaehyun's parents first, and that you and Jaehyun could come together later. Turns out, he also had difficulty getting out of bed because he was up all night gaming. By the time the both of you got ready, it was almost nearing noon.

“Wanna get Starbucks?” Jaehyun asked after keying in the address of the villa into his GPS. The shimmering heat of the sun tempted you to say yes, so the both of you stopped by to get drinks and snacks for the long ride. You decided to try an iced shaken tea with lemonade that’s new on the menu, while Jaehyun got his usual iced americano.

The first two hours went by quickly with you and Jaehyun screaming out the lyrics to your favourite songs at the top of your lungs. You rolled down the windows too, relishing in the pleasant feeling of the refreshing summer breeze brushing against your skin.

Before the trip, Jaehyun came up with a brilliant idea of creating a shared road trip playlist together. Your music tastes were similar to each other, so it was easy to add songs that both of you would definitely enjoy. Titled I got my driver’s licence last week, the playlist ended up being five hours and seventeen minutes long, with almost a hundred songs in it.

Every now and then, Jaehyun would glance over to you with a questioning look on his face whenever one of Taylor Swift’s songs came on. He was not an avid listener of her songs, but he might as well be, from all the times you recommended her songs to him. Your obsession wasn’t something new to him, but he didn’t realise how most of the songs that you added into the playlist were hers until now.

“At this point, you should just play her entire discography,” he said, sighing. It was only five seconds into the song, but he was already able to recognise it because of how often you listened to it.

“But it's cruel summer!” you retorted back, feeding him a biscuit since his hands were on the steering wheel. “The title has the word ‘summer’ in it, so I had to add it in.” Jaehyun chuckled at your reasoning, but eventually gave in and sang along with you too. How could he not? He practically has the lyrics memorised all because of you.

The singing continued for the rest of the drive, but it wasn’t long before you got tired, simply sitting in your seat and bopping your head to the songs. Jaehyun also quietened down, eyes focused on the road since he’s taking an entirely new route that’s foreign to him. The songs were not as upbeat as before, and you found yourself dozing off every few minutes, the air conditioning making you even sleepier. Eyes shut, Jaehyun’s voice was the last thing that you heard before you completely drifted off to sleep, but you didn’t catch what he said to you.

–

“… Mum said there’s a bowling alley at the country club. Let’s go there tonight?”

Jaehyun’s eyes were still focused on the road, patiently waiting for your response. However, there was nothing except music playing from his speakers, making him tilt his head quizzically. Were you even listening to him?

Jaehyun briefly turned to your direction, and he felt a smile creeping up on his face once he saw you. Phone clutched in your hand, you’d fallen asleep, head dangerously close to hitting against his car window. He’d always known that you would end up falling asleep if you had to travel for more than two hours, but he still found it amusing whenever he caught you doing that.

Shifting his attention back to the road, he continued driving until he exited the expressway, finding a suitable spot for him to stop the car by the side of the road. He reached over to the backseat to get his pillow, carefully positioning it between your head and the window so as to not wake you from your slumber. He also took the spare hoodie that he left in his car to cover over your body as a makeshift blanket.

Before leaning back into his seat, Jaehyun took in the sight of your sleeping figure for another time, and it took everything in him to not press a kiss against your cheek.

These days, he’s finding it increasingly difficult to be around you, for the sole reason that your presence made it feel as though his heart was going to burst out of his chest. As much as he likes you, he didn’t know how much longer he could hide his feelings. He’s been doing well all these years, so why now?

Perhaps it’s because the topic of relationships has started to come up more in your recent conversations with him. Expressing your concern about not being able to find the one, you told him that maybe you should be more serious about your love life and actually put yourself out on the market. He laughed it off and told you that it wasn’t something that you had to worry about, but deep down, it awakened the unmistakable feelings of panic and jealousy in him. That someday, you’ll be with someone who’s not him.

Jaehyun doesn’t know what he’ll do when that happens.

It was ironic, really.

A part of him wanted to muster up the courage to shoot his shot. It’s risky, but even if he missed, at least he tried and wouldn’t be left with any regret. At the same time, however, the thought of potentially destroying your friendship outweighed everything else, and it would be selfish of him to prioritise his feelings over what the both of you have built together over the years.

“Yuno,” you called out, breaking Jaehyun out of his thoughts.

He looked at you, surprised, since you didn’t usually call him that. In fact, you’re the only person who ever calls him that. He leaned in closer to hear you properly, but he’s unable to make out your incoherent mumbles. He sighed, not knowing what to do with you, or more specifically, his feelings for you. But before he could let his thoughts of you consume him again, he started the engine and continued the drive to the villa. Because if there’s one thing that Jaehyun’s good at, it’s pretending.

Jaehyun pretends to be unaffected each time you have a new eye candy in school, when on the inside, he secretly hoped that it won’t progress to anything beyond that. He pretends that you’re not the reason for his past breakups because he always saw glimpses of you in every single one of his dating partners. But most of all, he pretends that he cares and looks out for you in the name of being your best friend, when in reality, it is the only way he can be affectionate with you like lovers do.

Jaehyun guessed the bowling alley could wait. After all, he has the entire summer with you.

–

Summer isn’t summer if you didn’t visit the beach, so that’s where you and Jaehyun went today. Except, it was apparent that the two of you had very different ideas about what to do at the beach.

“You’re not seriously reading a book at the beach.” Jaehyun stared at you with judgmental eyes.

You glanced up at Jaehyun, ignoring how he looked almost offended before flipping over to the next page. “I’m on the last chapter.”

Jaehyun took the empty spot next to you under the shade, attempting to snatch the book out of your hands, but to no avail as you turned your body away from him. “Stop it. We can do whatever you want later, let me finish this first.”

“We don’t have all day,” he grumbled.

In spite of his complaints, Jaehyun obediently sat there while he waited for you to finish the novel. Soon he got bored and started to pick out the seashells that were scattered across the sand, gathering them in the palm of his hand. Since he didn’t move beyond the shade, you tried your best to not get distracted by his movements, until he moved back to his original spot, calling for your attention to show you the seashells that he’d collected.

“This one’s pretty,” you pointed at one of the seashells that took on the shape of a traditional hand fan.

“Right?” Jaehyun took the seashell that you picked out, leaning in closer to you.

You backed away instinctively. “What are you doing?”

He wordlessly raised the seashell, holding it up to your ear. “Just listen.”

You could hear the afternoon waves crawling gently to the shore, the metramonic lulling making you feel like you were sitting by the water there and then, even though you were relatively far away from the edge of the water. Eyes widened, you looked over at Jaehyun in fascination, amazed by how such a phenomenon was possible.

“I know,” he said, as though he could read your mind.

After what felt like hours to Jaehyun, you were finally done with your book. He didn’t want to waste any more time and practically dragged you along with him.

The both of you tried standup paddleboarding for a few hours, but it always ended with Jaehyun laughing at you whenever you lost your balance. Too bad for you, your best friend was a natural at sports, so you couldn’t poke fun at him the same way he did to you, and the best you could do was shoot daggers at him.

You thought that the both of you would return to the villa after that as you and Jaehyun took a slow stroll along the beach, leaving your footprints along the trail. That is, until Jaehyun suddenly carried you up in one swift movement when you weren’t paying attention to him, and the next thing you knew, you were in the water.

“Jeong Yuno!”

You shouted at him once you got up from the water surface, raking your fingers through your hair to get it out of your face.

Jaehyun stuck his tongue out. “Come and get me if you can!”

“Oh, I will.” You took large strides towards the shore, determined to drag Jaehyun into the water too. He wasn’t really making a run for it, and that spurred you on to go faster, making it far enough to be just an arm’s length away from him.

Before you could reach out to grab him, however, your foot came into contact with something sharp and hard, causing you to let out a loud shriek. You didn’t know what you stepped on, but it was so painful that you could feel your legs giving up on you. Closing your eyes as though it would cushion the impact of the fall, you were surprised to feel an arm wrapped around your waist instead. You slowly opened your eyes, only to come face to face with Jaehyun. Eyebrows drawn together, his concerned eyes glazed over yours to check if you were okay.

“Be careful, will you?” Jaehyun murmured. “You’re always making me worried for no reason.” You swallowed hard, trying your hardest to feign ignorance at how his body was pressing against yours, so close that even the thin piece of cloth separating your bodies didn’t stop you from being able to feel the outline of his well-defined abs.

You looked away from him for a moment to recollect yourself, and that seemed to make Jaehyun think that you got hurt somewhere else. Letting go of your waist, Jaehyun bent down in an attempt to check on your supposedly injured foot. A mistake on his part, it seemed, Jaehyun was caught off guard and hastily pushed into the water seconds later.

You smiled in victory, bursting into fits of laughter once you saw Jaehyun’s priceless face. “Gotcha!”

–

In retrospect, maybe Jaehyun should have insisted on going to the bowling alley with you the first night you two reached the villa.

Six weeks into summer vacation, his extended family were invited over for an impromptu poolside party since they happened to be around the area. They were too tired to drive back by the time the party ended, so they crashed in the villa for the night. But one night turned into two, and they eventually decided to spend the entire summer here too.

And the thought of it was enough to make him clench his fist in anger.

It’s not that he hated them. Their families were pretty close, so this arrangement was not something out of the blue. But with them around, Jaehyun could hardly spend a moment with you in peace. Not just that, there’s been days in which Jaehyun woke up to texts of you cancelling plans, and he didn’t even know where you wandered off to.

It’s true that you and Jaehyun had the opportunity to explore different places of interest around the town. From paddleboarding at the beach to renting bicycles at the park, he has had his fair share of quality time with you to try out new activities you haven’t done together before. Minus the bowling alley, of course, because it somehow slipped Jaehyun's mind.

Still, no amount of time spent with you would ever be enough for him.

Ever since his extended family joined, you’ve been around his cousin a lot more than he’d liked. To make things worse, his cousin did not have a very good concept of personal space either. Catching his incessant touches on your arm or shoulder, Jaehyun was unable to suppress the green-eyed monster in him.

Johnny Suh was a little bit of a handful.

Notorious for his reputation as a player who changes his significant other every two weeks, you’re someone that Jaehyun would never let him get close to, even if Johnny was the last person left on earth. If he had to be honest, he wasn’t even sure if those people were even significant enough to be called his significant other, but that’s beside the point. The point was that his efforts were proven to be futile, especially from the way that you didn’t mind how Johnny has his arm around your shoulder, giggling at the sweet nothings that he whispered in your ear.

Jaehyun wasn’t used to any of this. He recalls a conversation he had with you in the kitchen where he tried warning you about Johnny, but it was apparent that his words fell on deaf ears.

“He’s just being friendly,” you said, and Jaehyun had to physically hold himself back from letting out another sigh.

For the lack of a better word, he thought that you were being really stupid. You might not have had much experience in the dating scene, but surely, you’ve spotted Johnny flirting with random strangers at the country club before. Even if you didn’t personally witness it with your eyes, you must have at least heard him flirting with people over the phone. That should’ve been sufficient for you to see that Johnny wasn’t serious about you.

“He's my cousin, I'm sure I know him better than you do,” Jaehyun retaliated. Why were you being so stubborn? It was not like you at all.

“Okay and?”

You kept your phone in your pocket and looked up at him, rolling your eyes. “Do you want an award for that? Why must you consistently prove that you’re better than me?”

Jaehyun scoffed, unable to believe the words coming out of your mouth. Turning off the tap, the kitchen was filled with the clanging sound of Jaehyun angrily placing the washed plates and mugs back into the dish holder. “Is that what you really think of me? A competitive asshole? After all these years we’ve spent together, that’s all you have to say about me?”

You fell silent. Regret instantly showed in your eyes, and even Jaehyun knew that you only said it in the heat of the moment, but it was still hurtful. He hated this. It was inevitable for arguments to arise in friendships, but lately, that was all the both of you did. Argue. And it was always over Johnny.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Jaehyun spoke again, back leaning against the kitchen counter as he turned to face you.

“I wouldn’t be saying all of this if I didn't care about you.” His tone was much gentler than before, because honestly, he didn’t have it in him to stay mad at you too. “I’m just looking out for you, as a friend.”

A friend, he said.

“Then as my friend, can’t you be happy for me?” Jaehyun felt the touch of your hand over his, your gazes locked. “You know better than anyone how much this means to me, so can’t you let me have it?”

He can’t.

More than anyone, Jaehyun wished for your happiness. But he also wished that you could see where he’s coming from. It goes without saying that he’ll be happy for you if you found someone, but Johnny is really not who you think he is, and definitely not the one for you.

Jaehyun pulled his hand away, causing you to take a step back at how cold he was acting. It was evident that he’d given up and didn’t want to continue the conversation. Because to him, there was no point in talking if you were not going to listen to him. Body turned towards the door, he slowly made his way out of the kitchen.

“Jae, about earlier, I–”

“Save it.” His footsteps came to a halt, but Jaehyun did not even bother turning back to spare you a single glance. It was awful that he cut you off, but it couldn’t possibly compare to what he said next, the words cutting right through your heart.

“Just don’t come crying to me later on.”

Looking back, Jaehyun wished he could turn back time because he’s sorry for being so harsh towards you, for unintentionally starting a cold war. Other than greeting each other when your parents were around, it really killed him that you barely spoke to him.

It killed him even more right now to see you by Johnny's side, affectionately leaning into his touch. And because ignorance is bliss, Jaehyun averted his eyes right before you pressed your lips against Johnny’s, hiding behind a corner where he faded away with the rest of the world that no longer seemed to have you in it.

–

In the course of your friendship, Jaehyun was always the first to reach out to you, attempting to patch things up whenever the two of you fought, taking the blame even if it wasn’t entirely his fault. And while you acknowledge how unfair it is to him, you could never find the right words to say to him, and by the time you figure it out, he’d have beaten you to it. Of course, you would admit that you were also in the wrong, but it still feels bad that he’s constantly the one giving in to you.

This time, however, you were convinced that he did not want anything to do with you anymore.

It’s been almost two weeks since the two of you argued, but Jaehyun has yet to approach you. Considering how your previous fights never lasted for more than a week, you wondered if the friendship could still be salvaged.

In an attempt to clear your mind, you decided to go out to get some fresh air. So here you were, sitting on a swing in the park. And even though it’s not the same, it reminded you of the neighbourhood playground that you and Jaehyun always went to when you were much younger. Gone were the carefree times where the only thing the both of you worried about was how you were going to talk the adults into letting you play a little longer before going home.

You think you miss Jaehyun a little more than you usually do today.

Maybe it’s a sign for you to reach out and apologise first. It’s just two simple words, and Jaehyun has said it to you so many times before, so there’s no reason that you couldn’t do it. But admitting to your wrongs is always a difficult thing to do, even if it’s your best friend that you’re being honest and vulnerable with. Or rather, because he’s your best friend, all the more it makes it harder for you to swallow your pride, because he was right about Johnny after all.

True to Jaehyun’s words, you were nothing more than a side piece to Johnny. Coming and leaving as he pleased, your iMessage conversation with Johnny was increasingly filled with blue speech bubbles only. Even if he did text back, his responses were often one-word replies or things that were difficult to reply to, as if his intention was to end the conversation there and then.

It was not a nice feeling at all.

Although things between the both of you have ended, thoughts about Johnny didn’t fail to make you tear up.

You hated how desperate you were during that time, shredding every piece of dignity you had in you to hold onto Johnny in hopes that he would do the same too. Spending most of his time on his phone instead of sparing you his attention, cutting short your hangouts, openly flirting with other girls in your presence; you still decided to put your trust in Johnny and ignored all these signs that blatantly presented themselves to you.

Why? Because he was the first ever person that made you feel like you’d be able to experience the love that you always dreamed about. It would be too far a reach to say that he was your first love, but he was undoubtedly the first person to ever make you have feelings you didn’t know you had, both good and bad. The last straw was him accidentally calling you by another name, and you weren’t sure how you were supposed to end something that never really started, but you did by deleting every trace of Johnny in your phone. And eventually, your life. It was a difficult step, but one you had to take.

Never mind that your first experience with the closest resemblance to love was agonising, you were also on the brink of losing your best friend that you’ve practically known your entire life. You went from seeing him every day to almost forgetting how his voice sounded, as though a part of your soul had been taken away from you. You don’t know why you quarrelled with Jaehyun. It was not worth it though, that much you’d know.

Gaze fixated on a little girl and boy playing on the see-saw, the feelings of despair grew stronger, and the sight of them made your heart clench. It’s not fair, the way everything reminded you of him. You tried to push the thoughts of him to the back of your mind to convince yourself that you didn’t care about him, but the tear that escaped your eye betrayed you.

If only you had listened to him then.

–

“I’ll be at the balcony. Call me if you need anything!”

Your dad hummed in response, momentarily looking up at you walking up the stairs before returning his attention to the barbeque pit, entirely focused on grilling the meat.

Summer was about to come to an end, and so was your stay at the villa. By the courtesy of Jaehyun’s and your parents who thought that it’ll be a good way to end the vacation with a barbeque party, they’ve been planning it together over the past few weeks. As opposed to you and Jaehyun who were still not on talking terms, it’s unfortunate that you didn’t manage to find an opportunity to properly apologise to Jaehyun. He was avoiding you, it seemed, from the way he’d devour his meal within minutes and return to his room, door shut and locked. There was never a chance for you to approach him, and soon you gave up even trying knowing that it would be a waste of your time. You didn’t want to ruin the party tonight knowing how much planning went into it, so you tried not to think too much about Jaehyun too.

The balcony had a splendid view that oversaw the small town; it was especially pretty when the sun set and rose. You’d accidentally discovered it a few days ago when a bird flew to the balcony railing, its loud chirps waking you up from your sleep. Groggily getting up to chase the bird away, you noticed how the morning sun was situated perfectly on the horizon. Its bright orange hue unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, the small town came to life during those few blissful minutes.

Not wanting to miss the last sunset before you left the villa, you made sure to check the sunset time and even set an alarm for it. Today, the cloud cover was more extensive, which provided a beautiful contrast to the pinkish hues that splattered across the sky. As you took in the scenic landscape in front of you, you were in awe of how fast the colours changed even if you looked away only for a few minutes, very much like how fast the entire summer went by.

“Mind if I join?”

Your solitude gets interrupted by a voice, and you almost jumped because of the sudden intrusion. But the moment it hit you, whose voice it was, it was your heart that really almost jumped.

“Sure.” You pondered if you should turn behind. You don’t know how you’d react, seeing him again after such a long time, even though you’ve been meaning to see him because you only caught him whenever he passed by the hallway over the past few days. Not to mention, these rare sightings were extremely short-lived too. His voice alone was enough to make you break. Jaehyun eventually put an end to your dilemma by standing next to you, his arms crossed, elbows resting against the railing.

You felt like exploding.

You sneaked a peek at Jaehyun through your peripheral vision. He was wearing a plain black tee, which was basically what he wore every other day, and somehow you find yourself missing the sight of him appearing in the same few clothes that he owned. A small smile was playing on his lips as he looked over the horizon, and you thought about how if it wasn’t for the ongoing cold war between the both of you, this would have been an adorable moment that you shared together – watching the sunset.

“It's so beautiful,” Jaehyun mused, and only when he spoke did you catch a whiff of alcohol on his breath.

“Have you been drinking?”

Voice laced with concern, you turned to him fully this time, getting a clearer view of his face. While his cheeks were not tinted red, his droopy eyes definitely gave it away. You didn’t even have to hear his reply to know the answer to your question.

A lazy smile formed on his face, dimples peeking out. “Just a few glasses,” he said, slowly closing the distance between the two of you. It almost took you back to the day at the beach.

Jaehyun rested his chin on your shoulder, caging your small frame in his arms. You were taken aback by the sudden physical intimacy, considering how he’d not looked you in the eye for more than five seconds since the argument broke out. You’re not sure if it’s because of the close proximity or because he’d been drinking, but it was tremendously warm, and you could feel your body heating up too. It was warm in a good way, however, and because you couldn’t deny that you missed your best friend dearly, you returned the hug too.

Jaehyun called your name, pulling away from the hug first. Staring deeply like this into his honey brown eyes is akin to the feeling of putting on your favourite cardigan, and it makes you realise just how much you missed him, his hugs, and everything else about him.

“I missed you,” Jaehyun mumbled, his voice low. And if it weren’t for the fact that his face was just inches away from yours, you would’ve missed what he said. What struck you more was how he verbalised exactly what you were thinking of at that moment, even more so knowing that it wasn’t typical of Jaehyun to say such things.

You leaned back slightly, slowly letting go of him. “You’re drunk, Jaehyun.”

“So I can’t miss you when I’m drunk?” he challenged, pulling you even closer to him. His gaze on you didn’t falter, and the intensity of it made you want to scream; he has never looked at you like that before.

“No,” you muttered, “but you don’t usually act like that.”

“What if I want to?”

He was genuinely making you puzzled. “Huh?”

“What if I want to be this close to you all the time?”

You let out a harsh breath at his words, trying to break free of his hold. “Let’s talk when you’re sober.”

A mirthless laugh escaped Jaehyun’s lips, your response making him look away for a moment before turning back to you. “I have a high tolerance. You know I never get drunk.”

His hands were no longer around your waist, and you wondered if something happened for him to behave this way. You didn’t even understand the hidden layers of meaning behind his words, but it wasn’t something you wanted to think about when the both of you have yet to resolve your previous argument. If anything, he was confusing you even more with his words and actions.

“We should talk about this another time,” you insisted.

“No,” Jaehyun protested, bringing a hand up to tuck away stray pieces of hair behind your ear. You felt small under his gaze, shy because of his affectionate gestures. At a loss of words, it was difficult for you to predict where this was heading, but you prayed that it wouldn’t end up in another argument. A brief silence took over as neither of you said anything, until you noticed his eyes trailing down to your lips.

“I want to kiss you so bad.”

“Jaehyun,” you gasped in shock. You put your hand on his chest to push him away, withdrawing it as soon as there was a considerable amount of space between you two.

“Don’t say such things when you’re not in the right state of mind.” Even though those words were meant for Jaehyun, it felt as though you were trying to convince yourself instead. That your best friend definitely didn’t see you in that way, and that it was just the alcohol talking. Yet, as you watched how the smile on his face fell when you pushed him away, it was getting harder to convince yourself otherwise.

“But I do,” he said, eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort before carefully taking a step closer to bring you into a hug again, your forehead resting against his chest. “I don’t want to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. But I really want to kiss you. On the lips.”

You immediately shook your head. “We can’t.”

“Why? Is it because of Johnny?” Jaehyun questioned, the pain in his voice went unhidden.

“I’ve ended things with Johnny,” you clarified quickly, and for some reason it didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would, admitting that to Jaehyun.

“Then why can’t we kiss?”

You blew out your cheeks, dumbfounded at how he was asking the obvious. “Because best friends are not supposed to kiss each other.”

“You’re not just a best friend to me,” he stated.

“Jaehyun, don’t do this.” You huffed, frustratedly cutting in before he could continue as you did not anticipate his confession.

But he’d only moved his hand up, holding you in place through the form of gentle pats on your head, like he was silently telling you to listen to what he had to say. Knowing that this was going to come up again even if you avoided it now, you decided to give in, leaning into his warmth. Once he felt you relax, Jaehyun drew in a long breath before speaking again.

“I like you so much,” Jaehyun started, the sense of resignation embedded within his confession so apparent that it made you curious just how long he’d been bottling this up for. “I really like you so much, I think it might even be love.” He repeated, as though you didn’t hear him right the first time. And if his words made your heart flutter, you pretended that it didn’t, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to feel how fast your heart was racing.

“But I knew it was wrong to have romantic feelings for my best friend. I wasn’t going to jeopardise our friendship, so I did everything I could to get rid of them. Told myself it was just a phase, and even started dating around,” Jaehyun continued.

“It didn’t work, obviously,” he chuckled bitterly. “I ended up liking you more and more every day, I thought I was going crazy. For a while, it was easy for me to just ignore my feelings,” he hesitated for a moment before resuming.

“Until Johnny came into the picture.”

You were steeped in guilt, grateful that your face was buried in Jaehyun’s chest.

“I hated that you dropped me to be with him. Fuck, it hurt me so much to see the two of you doing things I’ve always longed to do with you. It’s true that he’s a player but all I wanted was to be selfish and keep you for myself. I felt stupid and sorry for not being to able to stop you from getting hurt, because that’s not how you’d protect someone you like.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s my fault for not listening,” you murmured. While you didn’t want to ruin the moment, you thought it was important to let Jaehyun know that getting involved with Johnny was solely your decision, and that it wasn’t something he could take the blame for even if he wanted to. It was also part of what you’ve been wanting to tell him in the few times that you attempted to approach him.

Jaehyun tenderly threaded his hand through your hair upon hearing your apology, but neither accepted nor rejected it. “I know it’s unfair of me to suddenly dump all of this on you, but I can’t hold it in anymore. You don’t have to do anything about it, I just wanted to let you know that…” He huffed, “I really, really, really, like you a lot… Buttercup.”

Buttercup.

Hearing that nickname aroused unexplainable feelings within you, partly because Jaehyun didn’t call you that often. It was an inside joke that started in middle school, when you told him that Buttercup was your favourite Powerpuff Girl character because you found her really cool. Mischievous since young, Jaehyun responded by saying that it was really fitting because the two of you shared the same grouchy face, especially on early mornings when you had to wake up for school. He never stopped teasing you since then and would call you that whenever an opportunity arises.

This time, however, there was a hint of adoration behind the nickname that was definitely far from concealed. And you don’t think you want Jaehyun to stop calling you that.

You felt Jaehyun press a soft kiss to the crown of your head, rendering you speechless because it made you forget what you wanted to say to him. It was too late, by the time you fully processed what had happened, for Jaehyun had already walked away, leaving you alone on the balcony just as you were waiting for the sunset earlier.

Only, the sun had already gone down. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to bask in the lovely afterglow that painted the sky when all you could focus on was the darkness surrounding it.

It was indeed a cruel summer.

–

“Dude, so you just walked away after pouring your heart out to her? And the kiss. Dude, I really thought you would’ve gone for her lips!”

Jaehyun almost spat out his food at Mark’s exclamation, not expecting the younger boy to raise his voice. Jaehyun’s eyes rapidly scanned the cafeteria to see if anyone heard him, and was relieved to see that they were busily engaged with their conversations to catch what Mark said.

“Not loud enough, Mark. You should just announce it through the PA system and make sure even people in the Design School can hear you,” Jaehyun scowled at Mark, causing him to quickly apologise with a sheepish smile.

The Design School was located on the other end of the campus from where they were, so Jaehyun probably wouldn’t have the cheek to turn up for classes if they could actually hear him. Though, Mark technically couldn’t be blamed for being so excited, since it’s not every day that he got an update on his close friend’s love life. He’d been invested in this for years.

“But to answer your question, yeah. I’ve been avoiding her because I don’t know what else I should do,” Jaehyun said, mindlessly using his fork to play with his food instead of putting it into his mouth. He didn’t have much of an appetite. He didn’t even feel like he deserved to eat after what he pulled. Still, he had to get something into his system, because if not, there was no way he would survive afternoon practice later.

“Oh man,” Mark said, a tinge of disappointment in his voice. “She probably feels like shit though,” he added, his eyes widening immediately after realising the implication of his words.

“Not saying you don’t feel like shit too, but you know, like, getting ignored after all that. I’d be bat shit confused,” he attempted to clear up.

It’s occasionally difficult to comprehend Mark’s words because he speaks in the same way that he thinks, as though he’s still trying to piece his thoughts together, but Jaehyun knew what he was trying to get at. Mark did have a point, however. A point that, as Mark put it, made Jaehyun feel like shit. He knew better than anyone that it was wrong of him to leave you hanging without an explanation of any sort.

“So you think I should approach her first?”

Mark shook his head. “It’s not up to me to tell you what to do,” he replied, scraping up the remaining few bits of his food before taking a spoonful of it. “Just think that at the end of the day, you should follow your heart. Put aside the whole friends since childhood thing. There’s no way things would go back to how they were anyway.”

If you told Jaehyun five years ago that he’d be receiving advice on his love life from Mark, he’d probably laugh at you until he had tears in his eyes. Mark wasn’t a bad adviser, per se, and he could trust Mark to be a hundred percent honest with him. Jaehyun simply found the entire situation laughable, how it’d all come down to this.

Following his heart… Jaehyun couldn’t do that easily, especially not when it’s something that he’d been trying to hold himself back from doing all these years. He always had to think logically and thoroughly consider what would happen to your friendship if he decided to act upon his feelings – and all the possible outcomes that came up in his head often didn’t end well. Following his heart? It was much easier to follow his head. It was already unsettling enough that he was so open and vulnerable with you about his feelings given that he rarely showed that side of himself to you, or anyone else for that matter. Coupled with that, is the difficulty of casually slotting himself back into your life to talk about what had happened; it’s not as if he was going to ask you about the weather. Decisions, decisions… Jaehyun was both curious and afraid to know how this would play out.

“Alright man, I gotta go for my next class.” Mark pulled out his chair, the sound of metal creaking against the cafeteria floor. “It was nice catching up. I’ll update you on how she’s doing so don’t worry too much, okay? See you at practice later.” There was a nice ring of assurance to Mark’s voice, and it made Jaehyun grateful that you and Mark shared the same classes so he could still look out for you through him.

“Thanks bro,” Jaehyun said with a sincere smile on his face. Even though he still didn’t know what he was going to do, at least there is now a glimmer of hope that lies still in his heart.

–

If there was one word that you could use to describe how you were feeling, it would be sorrow. Several days have passed since that night but you’ve yet to hear from Jaehyun. Initially, you were worried about him and thought that he needed some time and space alone. So you gave that to him. After all, it probably took him a lot of courage to say those words to you.

But one day turned into two, and soon, it became a week. You began to doubt Jaehyun’s feelings for you and wondered if he meant what he said, or if it was just the alcohol talking. Surely, this was no way to treat someone you claimed to like.

Truthfully, it’s been quite some time since you came to know about Jaehyun’s feelings for you. Or rather, had an inkling that he didn’t just view you platonically. You just chose to ignore it. For several reasons, but mostly the fact that your seventeen-year-long friendship was on the line.

In recent years, you started to notice the way that Jaehyun would pay special attention to you. There was nothing inherently wrong with that, since it’s normal for friends to look out for each other. But the foreign twinkle in his eye that started to show up when he listened to you talk about your day or complain about completing your assignments; it was difficult to brush it off as a friendly gesture when you were so used to him spacing out five minutes into your past conversations.

Jaehyun also seemed to have taken a mental note of how forgetful you could be. More often than not, you’d forget to bring a hair tie out with you because you were always rushing out of the house. But at some point in time, together with his silver bracelet that he usually wore, Jaehyun would also have a black hair tie wrapped around his wrist. When he notices how your hair almost got into your food, he’d put down his utensils, chiding you as if you were a child while he tied your hair up into a simple ponytail.

And how could you possibly forget the time that he pulled an all-nighter to help you study for an exam?

Jaehyun’s major was anything but closely related to yours, yet he took the time to familiarise himself with the important terms that you needed to know for the exam. Making flashcards so that it’ll be easier for you to remember those terms, Jaehyun even went as far as to record and send you audio notes explaining the concepts that your professor highlighted in your notes, which saved you so much revision time. All of this, simply because you made a comment in passing about how on top of that exam, you had so many other deadlines to meet in the same week, and he’d dropped everything to help you as if he didn’t already have a lot on his plate. He didn’t even ask for anything in return except for you to have a meal with him after the exam because he knew that you didn’t get to eat any proper food since submission week began.

It was certain that Jaehyun’s special treatment towards you made your heart do leaps and bounds, but you were in denial and didn’t want to believe that you saw your best friend in a different light. It was only when he confessed to you that you felt relieved. For all the times you thought you were committing a crime by overthinking every single interaction you had with him, even down to a simple text message from Jaehyun asking, “Did you sleep well? :)”

Perhaps a mistake on your part, but your friends were also Jaehyun’s friends. There were other people that you knew outside of that particular social circle, but they were people that you’d group as acquaintances, nothing more than polite greetings exchanged before and after lectures. It didn’t even matter that the both of you were neighbours because he wasn’t even around much. You didn’t dare to go knocking on his door in fear that he’ll just throw you another excuse to avoid you.

Several nights, your hand hovered over Jaehyun’s contact in your phone. Typing, backspacing, typing, backspacing; these unsent messages ended up residing in your notes application for no one but yourself to read. Time spent away from Jaehyun was painful. Painful because it was only prolonging.

Even walking home felt miserable because Jaehyun would usually be by your side, but only the music that played through your earbuds accompanied you.

This street was filled with memories that the both of you have made together over the years, and it was so painful thinking about how they turned into nothing once love came into play. It didn’t even take longer than a day for you to feel the full force of his absence in your life.

You hope you’ll never lose Jaehyun.

–

“Hey ____, is my shoebag at the café?”

You got up from your chair, walking over to the other side of the table where Mark was seated previously. “Yup,” you said, pulling out his chair to find his black shoebag lying on it. “I didn’t even notice you left it here until you called.”

“Dang it. Could you bring it over for me? I wore slides today and there’s no way in hell I’m training in that. Coach would bench me.”

A particular someone filled your thoughts at once, and you turned quiet, almost forgetting that Mark was still on the line until you heard his voice again. “Jaehyun won’t be there if that’s what you’re worried about. He has an interview today.”

And that’s how you found yourself standing outside the indoor basketball court with Mark’s shoebag in hand.

After the whole ordeal, Mark was the only person in Jaehyun’s social circle that really talked to you. Mainly because the both of you still had classes together, but you genuinely felt lucky that you still had company. If not, school would be so much harder to get through.

Most of your conversations tended to gravitate toward school and assignments. Though, that didn’t stop Mark from dropping updates on how Jaehyun’s doing even if you never brought him up a single time. He was respectful about it, however, careful not to overstep. He also didn’t ask or say anything that would make you uncomfortable. And for that, you thought that the least you could do for Mark was to pass him his shoebag so that he wouldn’t get into trouble.

Your palm turned sweaty as it hovered over the doorknob, and it didn’t help that you could hear a bunch of rowdy voices from outside. Although Mark already assured you that Jaehyun wouldn’t be coming, the anxious feeling still didn’t go away. What if his teammates gave you shit for what happened? Or what if they ended up humiliating you?

No. Jaehyun isn’t the type of person to talk bad about you behind your back. Besides, you’ve seen a few of his teammates around campus and they would still smile and wave at you. It was all in your head. Taking a deep breath, you opened the doorknob, resonating a click sound that echoed throughout the indoor court.

“____!” within seconds, someone had already come running up to you, his arm thrown over your shoulder.

“Hi Jungwoo!”

“Have you been busy with school? We don’t see you around anymore,” Jungwoo pointed out, pouting. His child-like expression brought a smile to your face. Jungwoo was like a loveable little brother to you, always sharing his snacks with you whenever you stayed behind to wait for Jaehyun.

Even though you felt apologetic on the inside, you still found yourself coming up with a lie so as to not make things awkward. “Sorry. It’s always hard adjusting back to the new semester, you know?”

“Well, drop by when you’re free! I miss you. We all do.” Jungwoo said, and it wasn't long before the rest of the team flocked over to the benches where the both of you were standing.

“You owe me one.” Throwing the shoebag over to Mark, it was fortunate that his fast reflexes prevented him from having a broken nose. He thanked you quickly before changing into his shoes.

“I need to go to the washroom. I’ll leave my stuff here first.” You announced to no one in particular, hiding them behind Mark’s things on the benches.

Despite being a regular visitor to their practices, their coach was admittedly not fond of you having you over because their break times always went beyond the designated duration, which ate into their practice time. The boys would always crowd around you and chat for a long time, forgetting what they were really there for. And since he had yet to arrive, you figured that it would be better to disguise your things as Mark’s first, lest the coach gets into a bad mood even before practice starts. You weren’t planning to stay for long, but you know, just in case.

“It’s not like anyone is going to steal them,” Yuta remarked, a second too late.

“You’re the reason I don’t come here anymore.” You deadpanned, your comeback making the rest of the boys playfully jeer at Yuta.

Practice had already started while you were in the washroom, the beeping whistle that would sound every few seconds told you so. Peeking out from a corner, you took in the familiar sight of the team warming up, their shoes squeaking on the wooden flooring. Upon further scrutiny, however, your entire body stiffens once a familiar figure comes into sight. You could only see his back-view, but the white headband that he wore was recognizable anywhere.

Didn’t Mark say he wouldn’t be here today?

Your lips curled inwards thinking about how you were going to get out of here without getting noticed. The coach was the least of your concerns, it was Jaehyun that you worried about. You weren’t ready for any form of confrontation yet, not that you expected him to talk to you about it, and you didn’t want to watch him ignore you. Maybe you should just stay here until they end practice. You didn’t have anything on after this anyway. But you also couldn’t imagine waiting around here for hours, and potentially risk getting locked up in here for the night when you don’t actually end up making it out. Racking your brain for unfeasible ideas made you curse in frustration, it was clear that going out by where you came from was the only option.

You turned around the corner from where you were hiding, silently jogging to the benches where you left your things together with Mark’s. You gave the court a quick once over, exhaling in relief when you see them preoccupied with their drills. Gathering your things, you made a run for the exit while they weren’t looking.

“____, you’re leaving already?” Jungwoo’s voice stopped you in your tracks. It was too late to ask him to be quiet since he practically announced your exit to the entire court, but in a moment of panic, you ended up turning around even though you should have continued walking. Jaehyun’s eyes were on you. What shocked you more, however, was the unpleasant surprise that followed after.

Jaehyun, who was supposed to receive a pass from Sungchan, got distracted by you, or rather, Jungwoo saying bye to you. Ball hauled straight at Jaehyun, his teammates shouted at him to watch out, with Yuta even rushing over at the speed of light to hit the ball away. Which unfortunately, backfired, because while he managed to prevent Jaehyun from getting hit by the ball, Yuta ended up colliding into him, the both of them tumbling to the ground.

“Are you okay?” You don’t know how you ended up in front of Jaehyun, but your trembling hands held him by the shoulder, your eyes glossing over his figure to check if he was okay.

Jaehyun looked extremely pale, and that’s saying a lot given that he was already very fair to begin with. Eyelids shut, he was profusely breaking out in cold sweat. Their coach snapped his fingers to get Jaehyun’s attention, but there was hardly any response.

“I’ll take him to the infirmary,” you said.

“Don’t be silly, ____. How are you going to carry him?” Yuta stood up while massaging his right shoulder, recovering from the fall faster than Jaehyun did because it wasn’t as severe for him.

You unintentionally glared at Yuta because of his snide comment that always seemed to come up at the wrong time. Though, you thought it was warranted this time, because you were fretting over Jaehyun’s injury. Sensing your panic, Yuta raised two hands defensively. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’ll take him to the nurse. You get his things, I’ll meet you there.”

–

The wait was awfully long.

You didn’t want to disrupt the process so you stayed outside with Jaehyun’s things, waiting patiently until you could go in to check on him. You didn’t even feel an ounce of anger towards him, only thinking about whether he was okay or not, because it didn’t seem like he was. Judging from the past few times, you roughly knew that this time of the year was also nearing competition season, so you genuinely hoped that Jaehyun’s injury was nothing serious. It would be so demoralising for him if he had to sit out, and that’s the last thing you wanted for him.

You hurriedly got up from your seat when you heard the door open, looking over to see the doctor walk out of the infirmary first, with Yuta following right behind. The doctor gave you a polite smile before leaving.

“How is he?” you dared to ask.

A knowing chuckle left Yuta’s lips. “Your boyfriend’s fine.”

“Yuta.” Your death glare from earlier made a reappearance, and it caused him to straighten up before relaying the doctor’s words.

“Good news is that he didn’t fracture or break anything. The swelling went down after they iced his ankle, but…” Yuta’s voice trailed off.

“But?”

“He caught some flu bug that’s been going around school so his body is kind of weak. Doc said he needs to take a week off to recover, he even prescribed him antibiotics.” That explained his sickly complexion.

“Can I go in to see him?”

Yuta nodded, holding the door open for you. “I’ll get going first. Take good care of your–”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

“… Boyfriend.” A triumphant smile on his face, Yuta got out of your sight even before you could do anything (throw your laptop at him).

You walked into Jaehyun lying on the bed. His eyes were closed, but the sound of him humming to a tune told you that he wasn’t asleep. You crouched down to put both your things by the bedside, careful not to make a loud ruckus before settling down on the empty chair next to the bed.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice came out as a whisper, as if you were scared to break the silence.

Jaehyun’s eyelids fluttered open, now looking in your direction as he slowly sat up. “Why are you sorry? It’s not even your fault. I was careless and tripped.” Would it be a stretch to say that he tripped because of you? You’re not sure, but you somehow felt responsible for his current state.

“Let me take care of you,” you offered.

“No. I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“But you’re sick,” you persisted, “Stop being so stubborn.”

“I don’t really want to be around you, ____.” Jaehyun said coldly, and your heart sank upon hearing his words. It was hard to believe that this was the same guy who wore his heart on his sleeve. For you.

You blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. “Do you really mean that?”

“Yes.” Jaehyun’s reply came faster than you’d expected. But that was just the tip of the iceberg. What broke you was how he answered you with a stoic expression that was void of any emotion.

“I can’t get rid of my feelings if I continue to be around you all the time.” Jaehyun explained, his head hanging low. “So just let me be, and we’ll be okay again once I get over you.”

I don’t want you to get over me.

You wanted to tell Jaehyun, how unfair it was that he never once asked you how you felt about everything, but no words left your mouth. You could only sit there, looking down at your hands, feeling unwanted in a space where even your best friend couldn’t tolerate your presence because you were hurting him as much as he was hurting you. Lines were blurred, and boundaries have been crossed. How could you bring yourself to believe that the two of you would be okay again?

You fiddled with your hands, earning the courage to look Jaehyun in the eye again. “I’m still going to take care of you.” You said firmly, not allowing for Jaehyun to object before continuing. “It’s your feelings so you deal with it. I’m just here to take care of you”—you paused—“because friends are supposed to be there for each other no matter what. And unless you want me out of your life for good, then you can say no and I won’t bother you anymore.”

–

It wasn’t as easy as you thought it’ll be, taking care of Jaehyun. To be fair to him, he didn’t inconvenience you a lot since he spent most of his days in bed. He could still do simple chores, but since you offered to look after him, you made sure that he didn’t have to move around the house so as to focus on recuperating. But even all of that was manageable for you.

The difficult part was feeling like you had to walk on eggshells around him all the time. It didn’t seem fair that you knew about his feelings for you, because there were several instances in which you found yourself thinking: Is it too much? Am I giving him a harder time by doing this?

So you kept your interactions with him short.

The same could be said for today. It’s been a week since he fell sick, but Jaehyun was already feeling much better thanks to you. You didn’t have any classes so you stayed over at Jaehyun’s, catching up on your readings while he napped the day away. Even though he was close to recovering, it was unfortunate that the medication that he took was drowsy, so most of the time he spent, he spent asleep.

As it was nearing dinnertime, you decided to cook a simple meal for him so that he could continue taking his medication after getting some food in his system. Turning off the stove, you took a small spoon to taste the porridge, almost letting out a yelp because of how hot it was. You opened the cabinets directly above you, grabbing the salt and pepper to add just a tiny bit of each seasoning into the porridge, just like how Jaehyun would like it. You meticulously poured the porridge into an empty bowl, putting it on a tray before carrying it into Jaehyun’s room.

Leaving the door slightly ajar so that you could hear Jaehyun from the living room in case he needed anything, you were welcomed with the sight of him tucked under the covers, still deep in sleep. Setting the tray down on his bedside table, you walked over to sit on the edge of his bed. You ruffled stray pieces of his hair away to feel his forehead. He had a bit of a temperature earlier, but the medicine seemed to have helped in bringing it down.

You gently woke Jaehyun up, asking him to eat. Sleep still evident in his eyes, you thought he looked cute with his lower lip protruding out as it took some time for him to sit up, mindlessly looking around his room to process his surroundings. You almost felt bad for interrupting his sleep, but you didn’t have much of a choice because this was his first proper meal of the day, only settling for bread earlier because he said he didn’t have any appetite.

You took the bowl in your hands, taking one spoonful of the food. Blowing lightly at it to cool off the heat, you fed it to Jaehyun who was still staring into blank space.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, feeding Jaehyun another mouthful.

“Better,” he said, voice deep and raspy because he’d just woken up. “Still feeling sleepy though.”

“You can go back to sleep after this,” you said with a quiet laugh.

Silence took over as Jaehyun continued to have his meal, but it was neither uncomfortable nor tense. In fact, it was almost like things had gone back to how they originally were, where the two of you were able to spend the entire day without even talking to each other until you were done with your own things.

Jaehyun took his medication once he finished his meal, chugging down the last bits of water from his 1.5 litre bottle too. You got up from his bed, putting the bowl back onto the tray.

“I’ll leave the door open again so just shout if you need anything.” You don’t wait for Jaehyun to respond before turning your back to him, getting ready to leave. But he’d surprise you by extending a hand out to your arm, the sudden contact almost causing you to drop the tray. You promptly turned to look at him.

“Can we–”Jaehyun choked out, his voice still hoarse–“can we cuddle?”

With his hand still on your arm, you stood rooted to the ground. The voices in your head fighting with each other at his proposition, you didn’t know how to answer him. Cuddling with each other wasn’t something new, but in light of recent events, you weren’t so sure if the two of you should be doing something so intimate together.

Sighing, you put the tray away before holding onto Jaehyun’s hand. “I’ll do the dishes and come back up, okay?” it felt like you were talking to a child, the way you were so gentle with him as if he was going to break. He nodded, finally letting go of your arm.

Technically, it wouldn’t hurt to leave the dishes untouched for a while. But you needed that time away to mentally prepare yourself… to be that close to Jaehyun again after such a long time. As you loaded the dirty cutlery into the dishwasher, memories of his confession came rushing to your head. All you could think about were the words he said to you and how it felt to be in his warm embrace.

You could feel your heart thumping against your chest as you went up to Jaehyun’s room. Closing the door, you laid down on the empty side of the bed next to him. You were cautious at first, but soon that went away when his arm reached out to bring your body closer to his.

You tried not to think about how right it felt to be in his arms. Holding you in a way that was not in the least uncomfortable, you don’t think that anyone else would know you better than Jaehyun did.

“Good night, Buttercup,” Jaehyun said, his voice lulling you to sleep.

–

For the first time in a while, Jaehyun felt well-rested. He didn’t usually have trouble falling asleep, but with so much going on recently, he rarely woke up feeling content.

But the bed felt warmer today, and he knew that it’s because of you. He didn't even plan to ask you to cuddle with him, but he unknowingly blurted it out, and you agreed.

Jaehyun tilted his head, supporting it with one hand while he looked at you. His feelings for you were all coming back to him again, not that they were ever gone in the first place. He’d simply pushed them aside, convincing himself that he’d be able to get over you.

But that’s the thing. Because he kept avoiding them, all the more they continued to plague him. Granted, he lied about things being able to go back to how they were, but if he didn’t lie, how else was he supposed to continue staying by your side?

Jaehyun’s predicament was put on hold as you stirred in your sleep, opening your eyes one at a time before you looked up at him with a lop-sided grin.

“Morning,” you greeted.

Jaehyun returned the smile. “Did you sleep well?”

You nodded. “Best sleep I had in a while.”

“Thanks for staying with me even though you didn’t have to.”

You got up from his bed, stretching your entire body. “It’s no problem. Do you want breakfast? I can whip something up real quick.”

Jaehyun followed suit, also standing up to make his bed. He spreaded the blanket cover over the mattress, tucking in the corners. “No thanks. I’ll be heading out soon to meet Da-eun at the newly opened café at Med School to—”

“Da-eun?” Jaehyun looked up, frowning at how you didn’t let him finish talking.

“Yeah, Da-eun. She’s in the same year as us. Remember?” Jaehyun, though confused, didn’t miss the dejected look on your face.

“I’m so sick and tired of this, Jaehyun.”

“What’s wrong with you? I didn’t even do anything,” Jaehyun huffed. Are you seriously picking another fight with him now?

“Didn’t do anything?” you scoffed. “You’re hurting me, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun’s eyes softened after hearing your words.

“You confessed to me and pretended I didn’t exist for weeks. If you really liked me, you wouldn’t ask me to cuddle with you and then go on a date with another girl the next day. You say one thing but do another. I don’t know what I’m supposed to believe when you keep confusing me but for some stupid reason my heart still flutters every time you do or say something sweet,” you rubbed your temples, sighing. “I guess it doesn’t even matter that I like you because this is a joke to you. I’m tired and I don’t want to be a part of your games anymore.”

Jaehyun couldn’t stop himself from breaking into a wide smile. “You like me?”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance. “Out of everything I said, that’s the only thing you caught?”

“I wasn’t even done talking,” Jaehyun retorted, going over to the other side of the bed where you stood. The grin on his face didn’t disappear. “I’m meeting Da-eun to complete our paired assignment. I was going to say that we can go to the café the next time if the food’s good.”

Jaehyun looked at you earnestly. “And for the record, I still like you. There��s no need to be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous!”

Jaehyun’s smile is graced with fondness this time. Looming closer to you, he gently pushed you against the wall, trapping you in between his arms. He looked down at your lips and then back at your eyes, trying to hold back his laughter when he saw that you’ve closed them. Leaning in, Jaehyun placed a tender kiss on your right cheek.

You opened your eyes, sulking. “What happened to wanting to kiss me on the lips?”

“Patience, Buttercup. Don’t want to spread whatever virus I have to you. Promise I’ll make it up to you next time.” He left another kiss on your left cheek.

“I think I like seeing you jealous.” Jaehyun added as an afterthought, which earned him a smack on the shoulder from you.

–

You and Jaehyun were currently lying against the couch in his living room, feeling like you were about to enter a food coma. It was supposed to be movie night, but the jjamppong was so filling that you two could crash until the next morning. Earlier that day, you’d woken up to a text message from Jaehyun asking you to check your laptop. He claimed that he accidentally saved his assignment in it, and needed you to forward it over to him because it was due in two hours. Rather unbelievable for a Dean’s Lister, but you gave him the benefit of doubt and went ahead to check your laptop anyway.

When you turned it on, you were welcomed by a grey pop-up window. It was completely empty, and despite clicking on the cross button several times, the window simply refused to close. You mentally cursed thinking that you got hacked. You were about to contact Jaehyun about it until a few messages came up in the same window.

Hi girlfriend ♡

I hope I didn’t scare you :) hahaha.

Your computer is attacked by a virus.

But if you wear my jersey to the game later, I will wipe it out for you.

Do you accept it?

The question appeared with two options below: yes and no. You shook your head at another one of Jaehyun’s antics, already envisioning the whimsical smile on his face while coding all of this. He could be using his degree for greater purposes, yet here he was, pranking his poor girlfriend with a pseudo virus attack. You moved your mouse over to click yes, and another series of messages came up.

Wise choice!

I’ve left the jersey in your closet next to where my hoodies are.

See you later and don’t be late.

Love you.

So as promised, you wore Jaehyun’s jersey to his match. The second he saw you, he couldn’t stop smiling. His teammates kept making ooh and aah noises, you had to shush them from afar so that they would stop teasing your boyfriend. Eyes on him the entire time, you were beyond proud when his team had successfully emerged as champion again, the both of you exchanging sweet smiles with each other after the game ended. After which, Jaehyun came home to you, celebrating the end of the season with Chinese takeout.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You already did,” Jaehyun quipped.

You moved away from him, faking anger. You tried standing up, but that only gave Jaehyun a chance to grab your arm, pulling you down to sit on his lap. “Ask, baby.”

“Why do you hold three fingers up during your games? Like is it supposed to mean something? You keep doing that a lot, even today.”

An amused hum escaped Jaehyun’s lips upon hearing your question. Although it’s already been established that you only went to basketball games for him, his heart still turned warm at how you attentively observed him throughout his games even if you didn’t understand the sport well. Much less wanting to know about his team strategies.

“It just means that we’re going to try for a three-pointer,” Jaehyun disclosed, pressing soft kisses against your shoulder blade. “We change it up every time. but the main gist of it is that we will make three passes before going for the three-point field goal.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. “So that’s what it meant! That’s so cool.”

Jaehyun’s kisses stopped. “I have a gift for you,” he said.

“A gift?” you felt bad. You should be the one giving him something for completing his season. Before you could protest, however, Jaehyun asked you to close your eyes.

At first you felt him shifting below you, curious about what gift he could possibly be hiding when you didn’t recall seeing any paper bag of some sort when you entered his house. Thereafter, you heard him opening something, taking it out of... a box? You could hear something dangling. Not long after, that something was around your neck. You knew by now what it was, but Jaehyun asked you to open your eyes only after he fastened the clasp.

“No way!” you exclaimed. Gaze shifting downwards, you brought a hand up to touch the necklace that Jaehyun had helped you put on. It was a silver initial necklace with the letter J, a tiny heart charm hanging just next to it.

“J as in Jaehyun?” you asked. You turned to look at him with doe-eyes, like that one emoji that you’d always use whenever you needed a favour from him. “No way…”

“Do you like it?”

“What do you mean? Of course I do! I just had my Gabriella Montez moment…”

Jaehyun let out a hearty laugh. “I’m glad you like it.”

While you were still admiring the necklace, Jaehyun slyly snuck an arm around your waist, effortlessly lifting you up and putting you down to lie on the empty spot next to him. He changed his position such that he was now hovering over you, slowly taking your hand in his so that your attention would shift from the necklace to him.

“So pretty,” he breathed.

With parted lips, Jaehyun moved in bit by bit to connect your bodies together. Just centimetres away from you, you could feel his lips ghosting over yours, making you want nothing more than to reach up to close the gap that separated the two of you from sharing a kiss. His eyes darted down to your lips for a mere second before he dived right in, going straight for your upper lip first. He pulled back slightly, silently checking if you were okay with what he was doing. And when he felt you kiss him back with a sense of urgency, Jaehyun brought a hand to the nape of your neck to deepen the kiss, smiling in content.

If his life was a movie, then you were the best part.

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