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fangirl-dot-com · 29 days

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Epilogue - Sign of the Times

Just stop your crying it’s the sign of the times… Welcome to the final show, I hope you’re wearing your best clothes…

Here it was. The last lap of the 2025 season. Sweat pooled on your forehead as you kept pushing the car to its max. A car similar was right on your tail, and you wanted to keep him that way. You could see the finish line start to get closer. With an inhale and an exhale, you crossed the line with such speed.

“FOR THE SECOND TIME IN HISTORY, THE POINTS WERE EQUALLED BEFORE THE FINAL RACE. IN THE BEGINNING OF THIS RACE, WE THOUGHT THE CHAMPIONSHIP WAS GOING DUTCH ONCE AGAIN, BUT NOT IF Y/N L/N HAS ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT. SHE HAS FOUGHT BRILLIANTLY THIS SEASON AND CAN ONLY BE REWARDED WITH ONE THING! Y/N L/N IS CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!”

You can’t bribe the door on your way to the sky… You look pretty good down here, you ain’t really good…

Your eyes flitted around your helmet as you finished your burnouts. Your heart was racing so quickly. Tears were pooling in your eyes. Was this it? Was what they were saying true? You wouldn’t believe it until you got out of the car. The “1” on the board in Parc Ferme seemed to stare at you as you climbed out. You looked at your team, who were all screaming and shaking the barrier.

Like normal, you stood up on the car and raised a hand. Only this time, your pointer finger was out, as if you had counted to one and suddenly stopped. You stepped off the car and kneeled down next to a tyre. Your helmet rested for a moment against the cooling rubber. A hand lightly tugged you up and wrapped you in their arms.

Oh yeah.

You had beaten Max in the last two laps of the race, claiming the P1 spot at the end. The Dutchman was shaking you around, celebrating. But, he had lost.

“KID, KID, YOU DID IT! I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!”

Your eyes were wide as you looked up at him. They quickly turned into half crescents as you smiled at him, starting to jump up and down with him. You never left his arms.

“I’M A WORLD CHAMPION. OH MY GOSH. OH MY GOSH!”

Max let you go as you turned around to jump to the team. You jumped so far in that you took the barrier down with you. Sobs left your lips as everyone wanted to get their hands on their new champion. Hugs, helmet kissed, and pats were tenfold.

Later that evening, your flag was draped around your shoulders as you held your head high for your national anthem. You could remember how you were on this step just one year ago, third place in the championship. However, this year, you stood on that top step as Champion of the World.

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing for the first time ever, Y/n L/n is Champion of the World!

liked by verstappen33, arthur_leclerc, lewishamilton, and 6,294,018 others

y/n.nation OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH 😱

y/n&co LETS GO LETS GO THAT'S MY DRIVER

box_box_express YOUNGEST AND FIRST FEMALE TO WIN THE WDC

y/n.89 I still think I'm dreaming

landonorris in that case bug, I'll GLADLY take the trophy

y/n.89 NO YOU WILL NOT BACK OFF 🤺

lestappenlove I NEVER THOUGHT I'D SEE THIS DAY

If we never learn, we’ve been here before… Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? The bullets…

“CHARLIE!”

The Monegasque barely had any time to react as your body soon collided with his. He felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him for the second time that night. Your hands were on his shoulders, shaking him widely. It wasn’t long before Max joined you around Charles as well. Max had brought him into a bone crushing hug, while you waited to the side with Arthur, whose tears hadn’t stopped since the second to end lap.

The fireworks in the Abu Dhabi night sky were blood red. The crowds around them mimicked their shine and color in devotion for the driver who stood in the middle of the crowd.

When Max broke the hug, Arthur was the one to take his brother back in his arms. You and Max let the two have their moments. Among your jewelry that you were putting back on after the race was a pretty special ring. The Dutchman’s eyes widened as he saw you slip in onto your left hand’s fourth finger. You smiled up at him and winked. A groan left his lips.

“Has Charles been teaching you how to wink? Or is that a Leclerc special that you pick up if you’re marrying one of them.”

A giggle left your lips as Max’s whining, but it wasn’t long until he gave you a hug. His head rested on top of yours as you just stood there.

For the 2026 season, Lewis and Charles had built a literal fighter jet. There was no way that yours and Max’s cars could ever keep up. With the new regulations, Newey just seemed a bit lost. However, he was understanding them little by little and promised a championship contending car for next year.

But, you couldn’t even be sad about losing to Charles. And you had a feeling that Max felt the same way. The Monegasque deserved it, everything, and a little bit more. Lewis, in the bright red, stood next to him. He wore a proud smile for the teammate that he got so close to in the past two years.

You stepped away from Max and made your way to the Briton. The man opened his arm and let you slip right in. A sigh left your lips as you watched Charles jump into the sea of red, thanking the team for finally loving him the right way.

You sniffed, suddenly getting a bit emotional. And you knew why.

You didn’t look up at Lewis as you spoke quietly.

“You’re retiring right? I can feel it Lew, you don’t have to lie.”

Just stop your crying it’s a sign of the times, We gotta get away from here, we gotta get away from here

Lewis’s chest rose, his breath slightly hitching, letting you know that you were correct. His grip only got tighter around your shoulders. A quiet “yeah” left his lips. You knew how heartbreaking it must have been to see you win in 2025 and then Charles in 2026, never giving Lewis a chance to get his 8th.

“I’m happy though. It’s been a long time coming. Fernando retired last year and has decided to just not come back, I guess it’s finally my time then.”

Tears started to drip out of your eyes. If anyone saw, they might have guessed that you were crying for joy about your friend’s win. But they didn’t know that you’d be crying for your friend’s loss too.

“Don’t cry sweetie. I’ll be around.”

“I’ll miss you Lew.”

“I know kid. I know. But I’m here if you ever need me.”

Fireworks went off again, igniting the sky and bleeding it red.

y/n.89 and arthur_leclerc have posted

y/n.89 the Leclercs 2027 🖤🤍

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, olliebearman, and 7,295,097 others

y/n.nation WHAT IN TARNATION IS THIS??

rb4ever I THOUGHT I saw a ring on her finger during the post-race interviews!!

maxverstappen1 I will have people know that I was the first to know

charles_leclerc um, excuse me?? Arthur phoned me after 😌

landonorris who do you think took the pictures?? 🤨

olliebearman who do you think he brought to get the ring - I win

formulala_delulu a match made in the stars!!

Just stop your crying it’ll be alright They told me that the end is near, we gotta get away from here Just stop your crying, have the time of your life Breaking through the atmosphere, and things are pretty good from here

The chilled air made goosebumps arise on your arms under your long sleeved dress. You huffed as you stood outside the area, waiting for the signal to start walking. But one person was missing. Your head violently turned left and right, mind getting worried that he was going to miss the cue. When a hand touched your arm, you knee he had finally made it.

“Vito, you were making me sweat, and then you were going to make me cry if you missed this,” you whined out.

The older man rolled his eyes.

“I would never do that to you. And isn’t it bad if you cry on your wedding day?”

A huff left your lips. You wanted to say something snarky, but soft piano music began to fill the area. You knew there was a brilliant white piano being played by a talented world champion right now, urging you to start walking.

Your arm was wrapped around Vito’s bicep as you started walking down the white cloth that had been laid down earlier in the day.

Arthur stood on the opposite end, a nice destination of where you’d end up. Charles smiled softly at the piano as he watched his brother’s exterior start to crumble at the sight of you in your white dress. Quite possibly, tears of his own began to fall on the baby grand.

Christian stood near Arthur and gave the younger man a tissue. Arthur took it with no hesitation. Max stood a next to a little space where Charles would come back to stand once he was done playing.

The Dutchman had been surprised when Arthur had asked him to be a groomsman. The two laughed when Arthur mentioned that if Max didn’t take his offer, you’d make him a bridesmaid and make him wear a dress. Max had never accepted something so quickly. Ollie stood next to Max, also crying at the sight of you. These were his best friends getting married, how was he supposed to stay calm.

After what felt like an eternity to you and Arthur, the two of you were finally back in each other’s arms.

You whispered a “hi” to him as he took your hands.

Arthur just cried a bit more.

The wedding was beautiful. The colors complimented everything so well in the Italian countryside where you and Arthur held the ceremony. Your estate would host the commencement activities. You had Arthur had talked about permanently moving in so that you two could start your new lives together. But, you’d still keep your Monaco house for visits to Max and the family.

Speaking of, your eyes landed on Kelly in the crowd. You wanted her to be in your wedding so much, but the little baby in her arms made if just fine if she couldn’t stand with you. You remember crying when Max asked you to be the godmother of his son, Adriaan Daan Verstappen. Oh well, you’d get baby snuggles later. Max and Kelly’s wedding was planned for the 2028 summer break, hence why your wedding was in December of 2027.

Max was back to being world champion, which was fine with you. You’d let him break his own record and then destroy it later on.

The rest of the 2024 grid were also there, along with a lot of the past F2 boys that loved Arthur as their own.

The vows were read and the ceremony ended shortly after. As you walked back down the aisle, finally known as Mrs. Y/n Leclerc, your eyes landed on an empty seat. A picture of Lorenzo sat there, reminding everyone about the man who loved you more than life itself.

Last night, you had heard Arthur whispering out the window. Tears had welled when you understood his words.

“I know that you love Y/n so much Enzo. I wish that you could have been here to see tomorrow, she looks so beautiful, even if I haven’t seen the dress. I just wanted to let you know that she’s doing ok. I am here to love her so much. I know I can never replace you, but I hope you can rest easier knowing that she finally has people who also love her so much.”

We can meet again somewhere Somewhere far away from here…

Arthur gave you a kiss on your cheek as he led you back down the aisle.

“Hello wife,” he said, gathering you in his arms after you rounded the corner out of sight.

You pressed a kiss to his lips. “Hello husband.”

During the “after party,” you couldn’t stop giggling as you got ready to throw the bouquet. You knew what was going to happen right after, and you made sure to throw it in the direction of the certain bridesmaid.

Charles had asked for your permission for this weeks and advance and you had happily accepted. You threw the bouquet, praying that it went in the right direction. Once you turned around, a smile grew on your lips as you saw that Alex had caught it. And right behind her was Charles on one knee.

You couldn’t wait to gain a sister.

y/n.89 and arthur_leclerc have posted

arthur_leclerc can't wait to spend forever with you 💍

liked by y/n.89, oscarpiastri, pascale_leclerc, and 7,943,857 others

y/nxarthur wow, I've legit had a front row seat to this entire relationship

maxiel_lover most of the drivers from 2024 where there 🥺

y/n.89 forever is too short

arthur_leclerc I'll love you in every universe and all of eternity

landonorris gag.

charles_leclerc get a fiancé and then we'll listen to you norizz

y/n.89 not on my wedding post please boys

landonorris yes ma'am

y/n.leclerc I will be sobbing forever

We never learn, we been here before Why are we always suck and running from the bullets? The bullets…

You walked into the garage, a smile on your face as you watched Max take pole for the last time in Formula 1. The crew around you cheered once the final times were set. On the wall next to you read the names and years of yours and Max’s championships.

The 2025 was yours, 2026 wasn’t on there, but 2027 to 2030 was all Max. He had finally broken the 7 championship record 2 races ago, winning his beloved 8th World Championship. You would have made him battle it out till the last race, but you couldn’t have done that since the 2028 season. Liam had done a good job in your car, keeping it warm until you could return.

Max stepped into the garage, eyes still full of life at 33 year old. He was practically a baby still if you remember how old Lewis and Fernando were when they retired. His eyes lit up as they landed on you. Before he could say anything, a screech sounded in the garage.

“MAXIE!”

The two-year-old in your arms wiggled until you put her down. Her little legs took her to her favorite godfather, much to Charles’ chagrin of wanting to be the favorite uncle. Except Max didn’t need to know that Ferrari was Lottie’s favorite team. The Leclerc’s love for the Italian Prancing Horse was definitely written in their genetics.

Charlotte Pascale Maxine Leclerc was born almost one year after yours and Arthur’s wedding. The announcement raised some eyebrows and you could see some adults calculating in their heads. But they ignored everything once she was born. Brown hair and bright hazel eyes were surely going to break hearts when she was older. She was a carbon copy of Arthur.

With you getting pregnant, you’d have to miss at least 2 years of Formula 1. You also didn’t want to miss any of her firsts so you announced a semi-permanent retirement for the 2028, 2029, and 2030 seasons. You may have cried when Max said that he was going to retire while you weren’t racing. But, you knew why he was doing it.

Penelope was 11 and Adriaan was 3. Max didn’t want to have to miss any more of their lives that he already had.

The Dutchman bent down to pick the toddler up.

“Hey kid.”

You knew he wasn’t talking to Lottie. You rolled your eyes as you approached him and gave him a hug.

“I’m not a kid anymore Max. I have a kid. So it kind of cancels everything out.”

Max only looked down at you with a smile.

“You’ll always be my kid, no matter what.”

“Sure Maximillian.”

We never learn, we been here before

Max this time did not roll his eyes or comment how that was not his name. He’s played this game before, and he’ll finally let you have it.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay one more season?”

He put a hand on your shoulder.

“I’ll be close by, don’t worry. I told you that I’d be here for all of it. I’m not breaking that promise.”

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 Lottie insisted she watch Maxie drive the car with Adriaan 💙

liked by leclercfam, y/nsnumber1, kellypiquet, and 8,230,185 others

leclercfam STOP STOP STOP THEY'RE SO CUTIEEEE

rbxferrari I can't believe Lottie is turning 3 this year???

charles_leclerc still the favorite uncle 😚

maxverstappen1 not if Lottie has anything to say about it

charles_leclerc says the man whose son was in Ferrari merch earlier

y/n.89 max I fear Charles wins this time

charles_leclerc HA

maxverstappen1 you win ONE championship and your ego grows by 10 thousand

y/n4ever dare I say I'll miss them all like this?

Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? The bullets…

“MAX EMILLIAN VERSTAPPEN AND CHARLES MARC HERVE PERCEVAL LECLERC! WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, YOU’RE BOTH DEAD!”

Max and Charles looked over at Arthur with pleading eyes.

“Help us.”

Your husband only looked at them with pity.

“Shouldn’t have waited to tell her. Now she knows because of Instagram.”

Both drivers, er well, a team principal and driver winced at the sound of your footsteps getting closer and closer.

Charles immediately grabbed his son from Alex.

“I have a baby Y/n! You can’t do anything.”

Little Jules Herve Anthoine Leclerc looked up at his dad with big and round, green eyes, making cooing noises at everything, blissfully unaware that his aunt was about to try to kill his father.

“But Max doesn’t!”

Just stop your crying it’s a sign of the times We gotta get away from here, we gotta get away from here

Max slightly paled as he looked around for a child to grab, but Lottie was already in Arthur’s lap by the time you got down the stairs. He winced when you landed on the ground floor. You, Arthur, and Lottie had come to visit after Charles called that Alex had gone into labor. Your family of three hadn’t planned to stay this long, since it had been three weeks, but Lottie had insisted that she wanted to see Maxie, Pen, Adri, and Aunt Kelly.

Your phone showed an Instagram post from Red Bull Racing.

“Should I read this Max or do you just want to tell me?” you raised an eyebrow as you asked. Max winced again. This was the ultimate betrayal.

Arthur, looking at Max with glee, asked you to read it. The Monegasque didn’t react when he felt the Dutchman’s glare on him. You only hummed as you began to read.

“Max Verstappen will officially return to the F1 paddock, not as a driver, but as the Team Principal of Oracle Red Bull Racing.

“We are also delighted to announced that Charles Leclerc will be racing alongside Y/n L/n, as she returns from her retirement in the 2031 season.”

Max tried to give you a smile.

“Surprise?”

You turned to Charles, who tried not to jump due to Jules falling asleep in his arms. Your eyes narrowed.

“I’m going to be champion again this year. You can eat my dust for this.”

Laughter erupted from the small group. Lottie had no clue what was going on, but she crawled off of Arthur lap and demanded that she be held in your arms. Her head rested on your chest as you rocked lightly back and forth. You hadn’t planned to have her so early at 25, but the little girl in your arms was your pride and joy.

She tried to give her best stink eye to her uncle and godfather. She pointed her little finger at them.

“Maman is going to be champion!” her little voice squeaked out.

And Lottie was right.

Maman was going to be champion from 2031 to 2034, adding another four to her one.

Only four more to go.

Stop your crying, baby, it’ll be alright They told me that the end is near, we gotta get away from here

You looked up at Arthur with a smile. The now 36-year-old stood shirtless, with a small baby on his chest. The TV in the hospital room was playing the 2035 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. Like they had back in 2026, the red fireworks lit up the night.

You knew what was coming after Charles won this year. The promises of retirement hung over his head as you watched another one of your friends leave the sport.

The only ones that remained from your fateful 2024 season were Lando and Oscar (still with McLaren), Logan and Lance (racing together for Aston Martin), George (who raced with Kimi for Mercedes), and then Yuki and Pierre (who found each other again in now back to Torro Rosso).

Daniel retired the year before Max along with Valtteri, Kevin, and Nico.

You looked up at your husband.

“Are you ok if it’s just him and Lottie? I’d like to continue racing until I retire and I don’t think any more kids might be possible after?”

Arthur looked at you with a smile.

“That is more than ok chéri. I think Lottie will just enjoy little Lorenzo Oliver Alessandro Leclerc’s company.”

You peered up at him.

“You do not have to keep saying his full name, you know that right.”

Arthur stepped over to the bed right as Charles was getting out of his car, finally a second time world champion. He gently put Enzo into your arms and gently rubbed over his head that was covered with blond hair. The same shade of eyes looked up into yours as your son took in the sight of you. If Lottie could be Arthur’s copy, Enzo was yours.

Arthur sighed.

“I can call him whatever I want. It’s not fair that he was named after Ollie and not his own father.”

“Bebe, you said you were fine with it.”

He knew you were teasing.

“It is all jokes ma chéri.”

Charles voice sounded in the room through the TV speaker. Arthur turned up the volume to hear his brother.

“I am so thankful for this opportunity for one more championship. I have loved driving for Red Bull and previously for Ferrari. But, uh, I feel as though this is my closing chapter.”

Mark Webber was the one to be interviewing Charles.

The Australian asked, “So is this a retirement announcement?”

The Monegasque gave a small smile. “It would seem so. I’ve given all that I can to the sport. It is time for me to continue my life with my family.”

Mark clapped him on the shoulder.

“I know I can speak for the entire Formula 1 world when I say that you will be missed.”

y/n.89 and arthur_leclerc have posted

y/n.89 little Lorenzo Oliver Alessandro Leclerc, you're more cherished than you will ever know

liked by oliverbearman, logansargeant, y/n&fam, and 9,205,834 others

leclerc_family not all of their kids having multiple middle names💀

y/n.nation them naming little Enzo after Lorenzo - don't bother the tears 😭

landonorris so...when am I getting a kid named after me?

oscarpiastri and me?

logansargeant and me?????

olliebearman hoes mad - you're just not superior 😝

y/n.89 sorry boys, no more kids, I'll name the dog after you

iamred_iamyellow I just know that little Enzo and little Jules are going to be best of friends

We never learn, we been here before Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? The bullets We never learn we been here before Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? The bullets…

You sat back on a tyre of your car, looking out at the crowds. You could finally breathe easily for maybe the first time of the 2040 season. The battle was tough. All the rookies this year gave you a run for your money.

But you had done it. Finally.

Nine championships to your name. One of a kind feat. Probably never to be repeated until the end of time.

You calmly walked over to the barrier. Arthur stood with your 13 year old daughter and 4 year old son. When had they gotten so much bigger? You were scared after Enzo was born, getting back into racing so quickly, unlike you had done with Lottie. But Arthur was with you every step of the way. So were Charles and Alex, and so were Max and Kelly.

You gathered your family into your arms and let yourself cry. Tears of sadness for the sport you loved with every fiber of your being, and tears of joy of finally accomplishing your one dream. It had taken 17 years for you to finally get what you wanted.

We don’t talk enough We should open up Before it’s all too much

At Milton Keynes, the years 2025, 2031, 2032, 2033, 2034, 2036, 2037, 2039, and then finally 2040 were hung in lights along the walls. You could have been done last year, but Lando had decided that he needed one championship in 2038. You were proud of the Papaya boy. All of his hard work finally paid off. And now he could have all the chances as he finished second this year.

You had one request for this podium. You wanted everyone up there with you. Arthur made sure that everyone from the 2024 grid was there.

(Yes, even Esteban).

The drivers you were close with when you were 20, watched as you were crowned World Champion for the ninth and last time ever. Max had red eyes the entire night. He made sure to splash you extra with the champagne. Your kids ran around squealing as their uncle Charles shot bits of bubbly at them.

It felt like a dream, to be up there with all of your found family. After the first few times, you thought that celebrating a championship would get boring. But, you were wrong. Each time was even more special than the first.

On the way back to the hotel, you looked to the back seat at your two kids. Both had fallen asleep the moment the car started moving. You blamed yourself and Arthur for driving them around as babies, and now car noise was the best way to put them to sleep.

Arthur looked over at you, smiling softly as he watched you look at your children with such love.

You whispered, breaking the silence, “I have more than I could have ever dreamed. And it makes me think that this is a dream, that I’m going to wake back up in 2023 in my drivers room and not be able to do anything.”

A quick pinch was given to your leg.

“Ouch Thur!” you whined as you rubbed the sore part.

Arthur had that teasing glint in his eyes that you missed so dearly.

“I don’t think it’s a dream chéri. You’re more awake than ever.”

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing our golden girl in her golden year, for the ninth and last time, Y/n L/n is Champion of the World ⭐️

liked by maxverstappen1, logansargeant, y/n.nation, and 10,583,850 others

y/n.nation thank you Y/n for all that you have done! it's time for you to finally relax with your family!

formula1fan at first I was annoyed with the domination, but Y/n deserves it more than anyone - you will be missed champ

y/n.89 my team, I am so proud to have been your girl - let it be known I am the golden child of Red Bull

maxverstappen1 um, no, you're not the original

charles_leclerc I was the golden boy at Ferrari AND Red Bull

sebastianvettel sit down, the original golden child is here

redbullracing we love you all equally

y/n.89 ... I'm still the favorite tho

author it's the end of an era, thanks kid for everything - stay golden

Will we ever learn? We’ve been here before It’s just what we know

At 42-years-old, you sat in a chair, looking over the estate watching Lottie and Enzo all play with Max’s family and Charles’s family. A drink was in your hand as you used the condensation to cool down from the hot Italian sun.

Retirement from all motorsports had been your decision alone.

Ollie and Dorian Pin had the two coveted Red Bull seats, however, Lando and Oscar were really duking it out for a world championship. You knew that the two would be fine.

After Formula 1, you did two years of endurance racing, winning Le Mans twice and the Endurance championship once in the years of 2041 and 2042.

In 2043, you tried out IndyCar, only wanting to win one race: The Indy500. Thankfully, you’d been able to do so in the only year you wanted to.

Thus, becoming the second person in history to win the Triple Crown of Motorsports, and the only female. It felt nice, breaking yet another record, even if someone had done it before you. But, it didn’t feel as nice as it did right now.

Arthur came out of the house behind you and sat on his chair that was built for him. When you had come back home, you wanted two seats in the backyard to be able to watch your children play for hours.

Lorenzo had told you a story of your parents on year. It was about the time when they truly loved each other. They too had matching chairs outlooking their own backyard. You wished you could have such memories of you parents. But now, you rarely thought of them.

Because in the end, you didn’t need them.

A tear ran down your face as you continued to watch Penelope, Adriaan, Lottie, Jules, and Enzo play under the Italian sunset.

“Why are you crying chéri?”

Arthur’s hand had come to your face to wipe the single tear away.

You didn’t look at him and kept watching the family that you built out of love and dreams.

“I’m happy, so happy.”

Stop your crying, baby it’s a sign of the times…

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faevi · 6 months

Text

HEAT WAVES. - (gojo smut)

Scenario: The heatwave is unbearable and your landlord threatens you with a bill. You find yourself desperate to make money before losing your home. Good thing, your kind boss Gojo Satoru is here to save you.

Word Count: 20,486 (i'm so sorry LMAO).

Content / Trigger Warning: female reader (she/her). DARK CONTENT (i mean it), manipulation, corruption, bribing, brainwashing, dubcon, sacrilegious, worshipping (a human as a god), dacryphilia, humiliation, fear of becoming homeless, fear in general, degradation, possessiveness, innocence (doesn’t know much about sex asides from what media teaches aka it’s mostly beneficial for the man), loss of virginity, master kink, handjob, blowjob, fucking reader’s mouth, swallowing cum, fingering, cunningulous, unprotected sex, creampie, slapping (on the breasts), pain, bowing to a man, so i guess sorta dehumanising content, sadism/masochism, hickeys, pet-names, satoru really is just.. lowkey nasty & immoral - but he cares in his own way, obsessed gojo, really messy - saliva, cum, etc. he cums twice, huge cock, dirty talk, reader is referred to as a maid —

i think that’s it? please (kindly) let me know if i unintentionally missed something.

Note: Important to warn that there’s mentions of stress about money and losing a home, so desperation to not become homeless etc. If this is a sensitive topic for you, please don’t read! But also remember that this is just fiction and in no shape or form do I agree with such actions in real life. Absolutely not. I would not want anyone to ever be in this position. I wish I don’t have to state the obvious but alas, better to be careful. People enjoy things differently within fiction compared to the real world. Look at people who love horror, for example. Fiction doesn't equal real world, please remember. <3 p.s. not my best writing and i'll always say that. always room for improvement. If you find any mistakes, please ignore!

I also want to give a little thank you to @mochimooon for listening to my idea, helping me out & even inspiring some of my writing/quotes. Please check them out! c:

I hope you enjoy if you’re reading and please let me know if you do! <3

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Fuck, it’s hot.

Obnoxiously so, you think as you hover your face in front of your fan that sits on top of your dresser. It’s small & cheap. Just like most things in your very tiny apartment. You frown in annoyance as the fast-spinning fans begin to stutter. “Don’t you dare.” You threaten the piece of junk before sighing and tugging the third drawer, angling it right so it actually opens. Hands blindly pull out the last set of pants in hopes of wearing them for your shift. You ignore with guilt of the pile of washing sitting in the corner. In your defence— You’ve been too busy worrying about bills and your health than dirty clothes.

Bills. The absolute pain of your existence, minus the current heatwave that has hit the city like a tonne of bricks, surprising everyone. You bring the piece of clothing to your nose, sniffing. “Excellent, sniff test passed.” You joke lightly before holding them to your legs… There’s a big hole directly in the middle of the pant leg. A whine falls naturally from your parted lips, feeling almost disbelief at how things aren’t going your way this morning. One hair grips your hair anxiously, wondering what you could wear to your shift.

It may just be a housekeeping job but, you’re still supposed to look somewhat presentable. The only options you have are tiny shorts. They may be a blessing for this heatwave because it’s not so suffocating but there’s just no way… Is there? You think for a moment, falling down onto your bed and hearing it creak.

The man you housekeep for; Gojo Satoru, is usually at the office building, trusting you enough with a key to come in, clean up and do other duties before greeting him briefly in the evening and leaving. Sometimes you catch him in the morning to wish him a good day and he’s always wearing that handsome grin on his face, crystal blue eyes holding warmth. It always made your day better when you saw him. Satoru is a good boss to have! That’s all. He’s nice enough to understand most situations and pays your wage the proper hourly rate. Surely, he’d understand the misery of working in heat (you just know it’s hot, even when the aircon is blowing) and that shorts are the solution. He won’t be there to see how tiny they are until the very end and it is long forgotten until the next day.

Yeah. You think it may work. You being the professional and polite girl that you are, will still ask him through a message on your phone. You crawl over to snatch your phone up, ignoring how your heart starts to speed up, cheeks all hot. It’s the weather. You breathe in deeply, fingers rapid on the keyboard before you press enter and toss your phone, suddenly feeling flustered.

{ Y/N } good morning, sir! i hate to trouble you before i even arrive, especially since you must be busy getting ready to leave. do you think it’s okay if i change my uniform for today and wear shorts? the heatwave is calling for a change! i promise to still work hard!

It was mere seconds before you heard your phone vibrate, frantically grabbing it to read his response.

{ boss 😇 } mornin’! go for it :) maybe i’ll wear shorts too 😌.

An amused giggle falls from your lips, mind-visioning the sight of the tall male in a pair of shorts at his workplace. It’d be a sight to see. Perhaps a sight you’re actually starting to crave… Shorts to reveal his toned thighs? You frantically shake your head to snap out of the thoughts, almost embarrassed to catch yourself thinking of your boss like that. “Stay professional, Y/N..” You mumble before you finally stand up to get ready, actively trying to think of anything else besides the overdue bills and your charming boss.

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

Finally ready to leave for work, you hastily grab your bag and move towards the short hallway. You briefly pause to inspect yourself in the mirror, cheeks feeling hotter than before. The pair of shorts were— Well… /short/. Tightly fitted around mid-thigh, fabric cupping around your ass cheeks and threatening to ride up with every small movement. Your shirt is sadly your typical polo work shirt. It’s a bit baggy so you’re able to move freely but regrettably not long enough to hide your lower half. The first button on the shirt is undone to pitifully attempt to cool off in the heat, only wishing the other two were undone as well.

You sigh softly, pinching the bridge of your nose. Satoru won’t be home as you work around his loft. Maybe if you move fast enough, he won’t even have time to check out your temporary uniform change before you step into the elevator in the meeting. You breathe in deeply, index finger pressing against the mirror. “It’s fine! Just go succeed the—“

There’s a loud knock on the door. Your head snaps towards it before hastily approaching to yank the door open. You have to use force to even open it. You often try to mention that it seems dangerous if there’s a fire hazard. What if you get stuck? You’re face to face with your landlord. An unpleasant old man who just shoves multiple envelopes against your chest.

“Your rent is overdue, here. Also got your other mail for you. If you don’t pay by the end of the week, you’re outta here.”

Your eyes widen, hands clammy as you take hold of the envelopes, your heart drastically sinking. “Wh-What? I just paid—“ You attempt to defend yourself and it only falls on deaf ears as the landlord grins at you. “Don’t care, that’s your problem. Not mine. Seven days, Y/N.” He warns before hoisting up his pants and moving down the hallway, probably eager to torment his next victim. You hastily rip open the envelopes to see the amount of money you owe. It’s not only rent but, other necessities as well. Tears threaten to spill and you bring a hand up to wipe at your eyes.

How are you going to get this large amount of money before the week ends? You’ll be kicked out and have nowhere to go. Living out of your car would be the last resort and the one you’re forced to take. A shaky breath escapes, stuffing the envelopes into your backpack before slamming the door shut behind you. You have to get to work. It’s the only way you get money even… if it’s not going to be enough. Still, your heart feels thankful towards Gojo Satoru for hiring you and you weren’t gonna let him down.

So quietly, mind swirling with disastrous thoughts and eyes stinging; you travel to work.

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

You find yourself on the top floor of one of the tallest buildings in the city, keycard swiping against the small machine lodged into the wall and pressing the four-digit code. The door unlocks and smoothly opens as you push it. Nothing like your one. You didn’t bump into Satoru on the ground floor as he usually makes his way out. So naturally you just assume that he’s left for the day. It’s a relief to you. You’re paranoid that your face is all puffy from crying hard in the car; cursing at bills and the heat.

Ugh, the heat. Thank goodness for the gentle cool air blowing through the vents. Did the man in charge of you turn it on for you before he left? You smile softly, dropping your backpack in the usual corner. People often depict Satoru as this overly confident man without a care in the world, often oblivious to how selfish he can be — He may have his moments but, you know how kind he can be. Not to mention hot… You frantically shake your head, hands slapping against your cheeks. “Now’s not the time to be giddy over your dumb crush on your boss. Work.” You mumble under your breath, teeth gnawing on your lower lip.

You open one of the many doors in the long hallway to reveal your cleaning supplies. Satoru allows you to keep it in his home so you don’t have to tug it along for each journey. Yet again, kind. Finally, you get to work and desperately try to ignore how tight the flimsy shorts feel around your ass each time you bend over. You also try to ignore the haunting thoughts of your bills.

It’s going to be a long day…

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

Satoru isn’t in the office building today. He decided to stay home, unable to be coaxed out of the penthouse because of the nasty heatwave. That and he’s been ‘inspired’ by a very polite text message about shorts and why the hell would he leave now? The white-haired man glances towards the office door that’s slightly ajar, listening to muffled sounds of you already starting to work. Utterly oblivious to him being home.

Fuck, he finds you so cute. He remembers since the day he met you that he’d hire you instantly. Bowing towards him and looking so innocent as you express eagerness to be his maid— He refuses to call you ‘housekeeper’. It’s far too boring. It’s a pity that society deems it unethical and also impractical to wear pretty maid dresses to work. Now it’s a dumb polo shirt and usually pants. Usually… Not today. His gaze is wide and manic. He’s so eager to see you in a pair of shorts. The white-haired male doesn’t care if they’re just baggy basketball shorts either. Shorts are shorts. Shorter than pants. Skin is showing. Your soft, pretty skin.

Satoru groans quietly, annoyed with his stubbornness to hide for a while before surprising you. He wants to see you now. Long fingers thread through his white hair, crystal blue eyes falling back to his laptop and lips forming a natural pout, typing dramatically slow on the keyboard with one hand. Still, it will be worth it to see you let your guard down before being surprised by his presence. He can already tell that you’d behave so cute that it’s a miracle he won’t bend you over any flat surface and pound into you until you’re a babbling mess. “Safe to say you’re obsessed and want your dick wet with her cute pussy, Satoru..” He mutters beneath his breath, snorting.

Obsessed feels like an understatement. Satoru feels his infatuation for you grow deeply every day. Every single time you bid him farewell and smiled so sweetly, leading him to jerk himself on the couch with your name escaping his lips. He even deliberately goes late to work just to catch you in the morning, swearing you’re the reason for a good day and everything going his way. Nearly everything. He often thinks of just how exactly he could really get you to be his. It’d be scary to a normal person if they could ever read his mind and realise the dark thoughts he has to try and charm you. It’s just so hard when you’re determined to stay professional and keep things to be strictly business. So yeah, maybe he has to stick to his filthy fantasies for now. Satoru always gets what he wants in the end. He just needs to be patient.

The penthouse is big and with a glance at the time, Satoru assumes you’re in the kitchen by now to clean and prepare meals. Perfect time for a coffee. The corners of his lips twitch, biting back a childish grin and lifts himself up from the office chair. He knows he mentioned wearing shorts in the text message but, he decided on the other way around. Tracksuit pants and no shirt. He works hard at the gym daily and so surely, his beautiful toned body would entice you or at least distract you. The elastic band of the tracksuit pants hang low on his hips, revealing the sinister ‘v’ that leads down to somewhere that will hopefully make you look. He’s downright awful for this behaviour. Terribly unprofessional but all he can think of is his cock.

He quietly steps out of the office room, thankful to actually step away from the screen and walks through the hallway and then the large open space that connects the lounge area with the dining and kitchen. Satoru stuffs his hands into the pockets of his grey tracksuit pants before approaching the kitchen and, holy fuck. His eyes instantly focus on the gorgeous sight of you bending over in front of him, wiping your cloth across the cabinet doors. The pair of shorts aren’t like basketball ones at all. Silly of him to think baggy clothing just because your aura is so innocent. It distracted him from the idea of tighter clothing. Just like your booty shorts now, riding up between your perky ass cheeks and squirming to try and feel more comfortable. He’s going to hell for imagining himself yanking the fabric up further until you do that cute little gasp of surprise and look so embarrassed. Satoru just knows, deep in his core, that embarrassment would look good on you.

Still, he needs to behave. Just a little. You’re a sweet person and he needs to keep his sadistic ways away from you. In his defence (he’s often trying to defend himself against his own thoughts), he has ‘loving’ fantasies towards you. He just wants you to himself. Satoru shakes out of it before casually walking over until he’s standing directly next to you, flicking the switch on the kettle. “Morning, Y/N. You don’t need to work so hard, y’know? Give the dust monsters a fighting chance.” He jokes, reaching for his favourite mug; a gift from you. It’s crystal blue and reminds him of how flustered you were when explaining it made you think of his eyes.

You gasp sharply out of surprise at a sudden presence, trying to grab onto the edge of the bench for support but failing to do so and fall directly onto your butt, eyes wide as you look up at the tall male beside you. He’s home!? Heat rises in your cheeks and you scramble to stand up, fingers twisting the cloth. “S-Sir! I didn’t- I didn’t know you were home. I’m so- Sorry. I should have greeted you…” You trail off quietly, shy gaze lingering on his toned upper body. He’s shirtless. Oh god, he’s shirtless. It’s not shorts that he decided to wear for the heat. It’s less clothing.

The corners of his lips curl up to form an amused smirk, eating up every bit of your reaction. It’s just what he wanted. Luck really is on his side every second of the day. He especially enjoys the lingering gaze of yours on his body. Being shirtless was the right call. He feigns innocence as he spoons the coffee ground into his mug, smiling gently in your direction. “Don’t apologise. It’s on me for being a hermit in my office. It’s too hot to go to work. I’d say it was a good call on those shorts.” Satoru says, voice low and smooth. His eyes shift down to look at your shorts once more. The front view is even better. You laugh shyly, thighs pressing together in a pathetic attempt to try and hide. It does nothing but fuel his secret desires further. You turn away to start wiping another flat surface, hand trembling. You need to stay professional and stop looking at his eight-pack. It was a nice distraction from your thoughts of bills at least. Satoru’s presence alone is always enough to do that.

The white-haired male forces his eyes towards your face this time, blindly pouring boiling water into his mug before slowly setting the kettle down. You’ve been crying. He can tell by how puffy it is around your eyes and how your free hand tries to rub any evidence away. Oh no… No, no, no. He doesn’t like you upset. Satoru stays quiet, lips pressing firmly together as he stirs the coffee. Who does he need to hurt, he wonders. Is it a boy? God, if it is… His knuckles are going to be all bloody and bruised. Fuck. He’s jumping to conclusions again. He clears his throat, body turning to face yours. “Y/N, are you okay? If you’re feeling unwell, you can take time off... You know that, right? You’ll still be paid.” Satoru expresses with warmth to his tone, taking a sip of the bitter coffee.

Your head whips right around, eyes wide and hands coming up to shake frantically. “No! No, I need to work. Please. I’m honestly okay. I love working for you. You’re always so kind and thoughtful. Please, don’t think anything. Let me keep working. I’m okay, see?” You express earnestly, lips curling to form a wide grin. It prompts a soft smile to grace his features, stepping closer until there’s only a tiny gap between you. You could practically feel the warmth radiating off of his bare skin. His free hand tenderly cups your chin, thumb rubbing over the soft skin. Oh. He’s touching you for the first time. Why does it feel so good? You shyly shift your gaze upwards, looking up at him from beneath your long lashes.

Satoru curses internally when he feels his cock twitch from witnessing such a sweet look from you. He knows that he shouldn’t touch you. It’s breaking boundaries but, he really couldn’t resist. Not when you’re clearly haunted with thoughts and pretending to be okay. He cares for you. In so many ways. “Alright, keep working. Just know that if you ever need something, your master is here for you. I’ll take care of you.” He says rather boldly before pulling his hand away. “I’m going back to work. My door is open.” Satoru reminds, leaving you speechless as he returns to his office, sipping on his coffee.

Master…

Satoru really just called himself that. A hand presses against your chest, feeling your heart race. That’s the first time you’ve ever heard such a title in person and yet, it sounds so much prettier than ‘boss’. He even said he’d take care of you. You twist the cloth in your grip, trying to force down the giddiness you start to feel. You’re so thankful to have someone so kind in charge of you. Still, he’s not paying you to stand around! You need to repay him for his kindness. With a swirl of Satoru’s words and thoughts of your overdue bills in mind, you push yourself to work.

The tall male slumps against the inner wall of his office, crystal blue eyes staring blankly ahead and a sigh escaping from his lips. That was a dangerous game to play and yet, Satoru couldn’t resist the chance of putting ideas into your head. You may be so innocent but, he’s determined that his words would have done something to you. However, he wonders what does trouble you. Even he would put a pause on his selfish ways to help you if life calls for it. He walks over to his chair, setting his mug down before slumping into his chair, long legs spreading out. He stares at the mug, mind already starting to be pumped full of images in tight little shorts and his large hand mindlessly palming himself. You look so cute today and he just wants you so badly… What he really needs to do is pay attention—

Satoru snaps out of his thoughts once more, grumbling before resuming work, hoping that you’ll visit him throughout the day.

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

You’re stupid for thinking that you could go through the day without your stress levels rising. It’s the middle of the day now, most rooms clean and what you should be doing is making lunch for the older male. The one who is so sweet to you and yet, you’re standing in the middle of the lounge room, tears spilling down your cheeks and hands trembling as they frantically try to wipe them away. You’re supposed to be strong and resilient; think you could get through anything the world throws at you. Yet, you’re going to be homeless by the end of the week and living in your tiny car. You barely have money in your bank account to cover even a phone bill let alone rent.

You sniffle quietly, chest feeling tight as you glance towards the scattered letters at your feet. Life is far too cruel to you. Especially when you work for someone so wonderful. Satoru pays you well and yet, it’s not enough for your stupid landlord. Satoru… You look towards the hallway, eyes focused on the open door to his office. He did say he’ll take care of you, right? Will he help find a solution to your hot mess? Will he even comfort you? Oh, how you crave to just be surrounded by his warmth. You breathe in deeply, ignoring how shaky you sound when you exhale and slowly begin to approach Satoru’s office until you’re standing outside and looking into his world.

He’s working hard, fingers rapid on the keyboard but they stop instantly and his crystal blue eyes look up towards you, lips curling. He’s always able to sense your presence. “Y/N, finally visiting me? I was counting down the time.” He half-jokes, standing up from his chair. Satoru instantly notices your misery and how it’s written all over your face. “What’s wrong?” He asks, brows knitting together to form a frown of concern and quickly walks around the desk to approach you. Instantly, you stumble forward until you’re pressing into him, hands clenched together as if you were about to pray to him. “Please— Please, give me extra sh-shifts. I need to— I need to work more. I have bills to pay.” You hiccup between the words that frantically spill from your lips, tears gliding down your cheeks.

Satoru finds his heart racing, conflicted with himself from finding the sight of you begging to be heavenly. His large hands rest gently on your shoulders, giving a squeeze before stroking along your bare arms. “Extra shifts? What, you already work nearly every day, Y/N. That’s not healthy... Bills?” He asks, hoping for more of an explanation. Why is his heart racing with hope from the sight of your despair? He’s a sick individual. Your weight is leaning on him entirely now and Satoru wraps his arms around your trembling figure to provide you with the comfort you were craving. Your tears smearing against his bare chest.

You could barely focus on how being embraced by your superior has always been a secret dream of yours; feeling too much distress and fear of what’s to happen to you. You sob loudly and Satoru is thankful you’re not looking up at him to see the complete bliss written across his face. You’re relying on him. Not someone else. It’s him that you’re clinging onto and begging for help. He should feel guilty for being so happy in this moment. Your nails dig into his bare skin as you cling, your voice muffled against his chest. “Please... Just give me more shifts… If— If I don’t pay my bills by the end of the week, I’ll be homeless! I’ll have to... I’ll have to live in my car and I just need to pay these bills. I have nowhere to go!”

Satoru isn’t going to hell. That’s not what it feels like now. No. This must be heaven. Everything just keeps landing in front of him on a silver platter and he’s more than ready to devour. You’re desperate and in need of money for petty bills and he has more than enough to buy that shitty apartment complex ten times over if he really wanted to. He swears he’s not evil. He cares for you. It’s just that he’s selfish and perhaps a little sadistic. Well, he tries to convince himself of that. It’s going to be a pleasure to finally corrupt you to the core and have you tangled around his long fingers. The plan just instantly appears in his head like a lightbulb flicking on, listening to your sweet cries.

“Oh, sweetheart. That’s awful. How could your landlord be so mean to you?” Satoru says so softly, strong arms wrapping around your smaller frame and he hugs you tightly, not allowing you to see the brief sinister smirk that lingers on his lips and the way his eyes darken with joy for what he’s going to do next. You continue to whimper out your pleas against his broad shoulder. Your boss— No… Master sounds so much more comforting. Your Master is so kind to you. You could feel his warmth soak into your trembling body. The summer heat couldn’t even make this unpleasant.

“I... I don’t know… I already paid rent and he just hits me with more bills. Sir, I have nowhere else to go! I really need the money! Please, I’ll do anything you say if you can just give me more shifts or something? I— I’ll fix things, or try to! I’ll go deliver things? Please—“ You feel his hands gently prying you off of his body, eyes meeting. He’s looking at you with so much kindness. How could anyone ever think that this man is selfish and cruel? The white-haired male cups your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears as he gently shushes you, coaxing you to slowly calm down from crying. Tiny hiccups escape and snot threatens to drip. Still, you don’t think anything could stop your tears besides a wad of cash.

You’ll do anything for him. It’s like music to his ears; aside from your pretty crying. “I don’t know, Y/N... You already do so much, I can’t really think of anything..” He sighs, watching the way your eyes widen with horror at the thought of not being able to make enough in time. Fuck, his cock is throbbing so hard. He’s awful for doubling the fear you feel. His hands take hold of yours to give a squeeze and pull you into a tight embrace again, a hand resting against the back of your head. It feels so nice, the way his hand strokes your hair. “I can’t give you extra shifts, but I’d love to help you out. I can give you the money to help you not lose your home..”

Your heart sparks with hope! Satoru is so caring towards you. You look towards him, fingers curling into fists that rest against his toned chest. Cute, he thinks. His eyes light up, lips curling to form a smile.

“Except, you’ll have to do something for me in return. You said you’ll do anything, right? It’s nothing too difficult, love.” Satoru purrs, head mimicking your own head tilting, finger tapping against your chin. “I’ll help you with rent if you let me have you.” He proposes, trying not to laugh with endearment from your look of confusion. You pull back a little, though hands refusing to leave his warm torso.

“Have me? You already do, sir. I work for you. What do you mean..” You trail off, heart starting to speed up anxiously, though laced with excitement. You couldn’t understand why. The white-haired male chuckles, pushing hair out of your face and forcing you to look up at him with a grip on your chin.

“I mean, I’ll take care of all those troubling and nasty bills if you let me have your body, Y/N. It’s that easy. You’ll feel so good, too. There’s nothing else you could do for me because you already take such good care of me.” Satoru says, hand tenderly stroking your arm.

You look at him in wild confusion, merely because you didn’t ever expect this to be the answer. He wants your body. Satoru laughs a little, thinking you’re cute for the thousandth time. Dumb little brain needs to be taken care of, too. “Sex, Y/N. Making love.” He emphasises the last term. It’s deliberate as he thinks it’d entice your sweet heart more than the blunt term ‘fucking’. Everything he says, every touch he gives; all have a motive.

Embarrassment washes over you and your hand grips helplessly onto his muscular bicep. “I know what you meant! I just—“ You pause, mind thinking it over. Satoru, the man who has hired you, will give you money to take care of bills and in return, you sleep with him. Your mind is a hot mess, thinking so many things and especially why on earth would someone so gorgeous and with a heart of gold; want you. Your mind travels to a memory. One of when you were in university before you dropped out because of not being able to afford it. A professor got fired and a student was expelled because she had sex with him for good grades in return. Such situations are viewed down upon.

Satoru isn’t worried. He just watches you with patience (though his cock certainly wasn’t feeling that) and his long fingers lightly play with yours. He knows you’ll give in because he’ll lead you to that path. Besides, he knows you’re attracted to him to some degree. That’s been obvious since day one. He pulls away to walk towards a cabinet as you begin to speak.

“Sir, I-I’m flattered that you want to help me and… that this is the only way but, isn’t it against, you know, rules?”

Satoru laughs lightheartedly at your words, prompting you to feel hot in the face again. He reveals a safe, typing in the passcode swiftly before opening it up. Again, every action of his is intentional. Especially when the insides are exposed to you. Stacks and stacks of cash. One tiny stack alone could pay rent for a year. He tilts his head, noticing your shocked expression at the sight of the small percentage of his riches.

“I make the rules, Y/N. Do you really think I’d let you get in trouble and suggest this? I care about you.”

You feel your heart flutter gently from those words. He cares, you know he does. Always so friendly to you and goes out of his way. This really must be the only option he has left if he wants to help you. You sniffle quietly, a hand rubbing at your eyes that feel so puffy and tired. How’d he even think of choosing your body after seeing you cry is a miracle. Still, you don’t know if you should do this. Especially since you’ve never had sex before. You better speak your truth before it’s too late. “Sir, I don’t think I can…”

Satoru sighs out dramatically, hand moving to close the safe, his broad back facing you. You’re not able to see the sinister smirk he’s displaying as he speaks. “Then I don’t know what to do, Y/N. Sweetheart, you might actually end up on the stree—“

“No, I just mean I’m a virgin! I want to take up this huge favour that you’re willing to do for me but I’m a virgin, I haven’t done anything let alone be kissed. You deserve someone experienced, I can’t give you what you need.” You begin to choke up as tears begin to spill down your cheeks when you realise that nothing can be done. You feel utterly hopeless and even useless. Your boss— Master, is stretching out his hand to save you, only asking for your body in return and you can’t because why would he want someone so stupidly inexperienced?

The white-haired tilts his head upwards after hearing the wonderful news. A virgin. Untouched. Innocent. You haven’t been touched by anyone and could be all his to corrupt. He can be the one to twist and shape you into someone that revolves around him. You could even become the one to worship him like a God who saved you from your pitiful life. It feels even more special because of the simple fact that it is you. The one he’s been craving hungrily for since day one. The one he really wanted to have fall for him and rely heavily on him. That you’d only ever look his way because how could some other person, man or woman; ever conquer when it’s him who’s taking all of your firsts and having you tangled in his web. He will become your one and only to worship and cherish.

You definitely wouldn’t want someone else when he’s manipulated you into agreeing and finally having your eyes open to pleasure. Pleasure only he can give. Satoru feels that confident in himself and his shoulders nearly shake from silent laughter. He already feels like he’s won. Satoru breathes in deeply before he turns around to face you, eyes now showing concern for you. He frowns, pretending to not be giddy at the sight of your tears and walks back over to you. The safe is opened slightly to still reveal the contents.

“I accept you for who you are, Y/N. It might be off-putting to other men that you’ve never had sex or as I like to say, make love but, it isn’t to me. It just makes you even more special in my eyes.” Satoru says, hand tenderly stroking your cheek and gently wiping the tears away. Fuck, how he’d love to lick them off your cute face instead. You frown a little at first at his words, an unpleasant twist in your stomach that prompts your hands to reach out for him. For comfort. He’s right. Other men would look at you unpleasantly for being so inexperienced…

Satoru thinks you’re special, though. It coaxes butterflies to appear in your stomach, reminding you how they often seem to come alive whenever Satoru is around. You smile shyly, cheeks stained with tears and you tilt into his hand, thinking of his proposal. He’ll help you with your bills if you just give your body to him. He doesn’t care about your virginity and is still willing to. You bite down on your lip, leaning in close and a fleeting glance at the safe full of money. You care for Satoru and deeply respect him. Still… Is this right?

He notices it and bites back a chuckle. You’re clearly desperate to not lose a roof over your head. In all honesty, Satoru wants to beat your landowner up. Violently. It angers him that you’ve been put in a position and feel complete despair. He hates when others are cruel to you but, he’ll still selfishly take the chance to take you for himself. Nothing could put a stop to that. Not even a gun to his head. It’s safe to say that Satoru knows that he lacks morals. Does he care how unethical it is to coax his personal maid into sex? Fuck no. His dick definitely agrees with his plan, too. He continues to gaze down at you, stroking your cheek. You just need a little push and he knows you’ll fall over the edge and desperately reach for him. He’ll bless you with his hand reaching out to hold you before you could fall into darkness.

“Let’s make love, Y/N. I’ll pay your rent just as I promise. Besides, don’t you want to give up your virginity to someone who truly cares about you or would you rather give it to some man at the bar, just wanting to get his dick wet? I’ll make you feel good. Let me take care of you. Let me save you.” His voice is quiet and low as he bends down to whisper against your ear, warm breath fanning against it. Checkmate, he thinks as his eyes never leave his prize.

This is your virginity. You only get one shot. Body, heart & soul already yearn for the older male, yelling at you that there’s no one else you could find that would do better than Satoru. They agree with their Master’s words and now your mind is starting to agree too. No one else could do it. Satoru wants to make love with you and help you ease your troubles. No one would ever do that. Just your master. This tall, white-haired man has always been so selfless. So kind and loving towards you. You won’t have to worry anymore. It just makes sense to agree.

Shyly, your arms wrap around his neck and you have to lean up on your toes. Has he always been so tall? He towers above you, physique looking so beautifully carved like it’s a Greek statue of a God. You feel so hot despite the cool air blowing from the aircon, looking up at him. Satoru’s hands are cautious on your hips, thumbs dipped beneath the shirt to rub comforting circles against your soft skin. He really is willing to save you. “I want to, Sir. If I give myself, you’ll help me with my bills and take care of me for my first time... It makes sense. I want it all with you.” You express through a whisper, ignoring how your heart races so excitedly for sins that are about to be committed. You always had an innocent crush on your boss and now he’s doing all of this. For you.

An almost manic grin appears from hearing you finally agree, bending slightly to press a kiss to your jawline, breathing in deeply. Satoru could smell your sweet perfume mixed with your sweat. Fucking perfect. He’s finally getting what he’s always wanted. Thank fuck for the overdue bills. “Your Master will take good care of you in return, baby. Don’t worry your pretty little head about those bills anymore. Just let go and succumb to me.” Satoru purrs, coaxing you into feeling a mixture of giddiness and embarrassment as you nod with eagerness.

“Don’t think the office is the right place for this.” Satoru thinks aloud before easily hoisting you up into his hold. He guides your legs around his waist, hands cupping just beneath your perky butt and briefly, he thanks the heatwave for prompting you to wear shorts. “Sir? Where will we go?” You ask, too flustered to use logic at the given time.

“Mm, call me Master from now on. It’s cuter from your lips. Is there nothing in that small brain of yours, baby?” He teases, walking down the hallway. Your cheeks flush from the humiliation of his words, trying to hide your face. He looks up above, mouthing ‘thank you’ — To himself. All his hard work has paid off. “Where does sex usually happen, do you not know?” He mocks, cock straining against his tracksuit pants.

You whine, frantically pulling away to look at him. “I know where sex happens! I just had… a dumb moment.” You huff, helping with pushing the door open to his master bedroom as he nudges it with his foot. He coos, endeared by your brief feistiness and kisses your temple. “Of course you do, Y/N. Only a dumb baby sometimes.” Satoru chuckles and you feel your heart flutter from hearing one of your favourite sounds. It relaxes you. Only a little, which is only natural for something big that’s about to happen in your life. Satoru gently sets you down on the polished wooden floor and walks slowly over to the bed, pretending to inspect it. There’s a circular rug beneath the king-size bedroom. He may have been prompted in the shop by how you praised the fuzziness of it and that he wouldn’t want you hurting your knees when he finally gets you between his legs. Ha. He really is a winner. Never the loser kind.

He stands there before the bed. He sighs deeply and turns towards you. Satoru has to ignore how his heart aches from the cute sight of you nervously fidgeting. “You know, Y/N... I’m really helping you here. You’re always so polite to me but, I was wondering if you could show me how deeply thankful you are for me, your master. Will you?” He asks, voice laced with sweetness. You’re oblivious to the fact that he’s testing your obedience, curious if you really would do anything. Including something some would say is humiliating.

It’s not humiliating at all to you and instead, it makes perfect sense to you. He’s gone out of his way a few years ago to hire you and now he’s going even further. Quickly, you drop down to your knees and your face scrunches slightly from the impact. You’re not close enough for the fuzzy carpet. Even though you feel so flustered, you lower your upper body until your nose presses against the wood and your hands overlap just before you. You’re bowing as deeply as you can, tears of relief threatening to spill. “Th-Thank you, Master. This means the world to me. I’ll thank you over and over.” You whisper breathlessly. You could feel your shorts rising from the movement, perky ass cheeks on display as you bow towards him.

Satoru is more thankful for his phone in his pocket, slyly pulling it out to hold it up and snapping a photo of the glorious sight of you bowing before him, thanking him for how his thick cock will stretch out your virgin pussy— Well, he knows the gratitude is beyond that. He’s grinning a little, still in almost disbelief that everything is going his way. He may be confident in his abilities but, there was always that chance of everything falling apart and you leaving. His heart aches at the thought of that. He’d do anything and everything to make you stay. Even force if he had to. He clears his throat, grin lessening to a soft smile. “You’re okay with me taking a photo, right? Sweet girl, you look so cute when you’re bowing to me.” Frankly, he’d still keep the photo but it’s nice to get your consent either way.

You whine quietly at his words, peeking up at him and noticing him setting his phone aside. “Master can do anything he wants..” You mumble shyly, face feeling hot once more. Is your heart going to leap out of your chest? That’s what it feels like. Satoru walks over until his bare feet are in front of your eyes. You lift yourself up a little to look up towards his gorgeous face as he towers above you. Your saviour. “Y/N, are you happy to give me your first of firsts?” His voice is low and deep, yet so silky smooth that you find yourself nodding eagerly. Truth be told, you always dreamt of giving him your first kiss. You have been crushing on him hard and just stubbornly tried to stay professional.

“I want Master to have it! I want him to show me what it’s like, I want…” You trail off, longing gaze falling to his soft-looking lips. “To taste my Master.” You finally confess and Satoru couldn’t stop himself from smirking, pleased with your response. You’re still in disbelief at everything that is going on. Still nervous about the bills— It’s hard to take your mind off of them. Satoru will help with that. You watch as he stands up and your lips part in silent awe. From this angle, he really does appear like a God saving you. His crystal blue eyes focus on you as he begins to step away, his heart leaping when you desperately reach out for him. “Come on, baby girl. Crawl. You’ll reach the bed soon or, is it me that you’re wanting to reach?” He teases lightly, prompting you to huff and start to crawl on all fours in his direction, ignoring the annoyance of your booty shorts riding up between your ass cheeks. It’s definitely him that you want to reach.

Satoru settles on the edge of the king-size bed, eyes refusing to blink as he watches you crawl over to him like his very own personal pet. It’s a sight he wants burned into his mind to remember for eternity. He could still sense your shyness and while others may have told you to get over all of this; the shyness only fuels his desires further to corrupt you and shape you into his. He bends down once you reach him, arms beneath your underarms and hoists you up with ease onto his lap, directly onto his crotch. He shifts to hug around your waist, pulling against him and you can’t stop yourself from feeling flustered or how your heart seems to race even faster. It’s to be expected, right? Everything is new and it’s all involving the man in charge of you.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous but, trust me. You trust me, right? I would never let anyone hurt you, not even myself. I’m just here to take care of you. Save you.” Satoru whispers, leaning in as his lips hover over yours, not kissing you just yet. A shaky breath escapes, your hands gently gripping onto his broad shoulders for support. He’s saving you. Won’t let any harm come your way. No more mean bills to make you cry. “I trust you..” You respond softly and soon feel his lips pressing against yours. One of his large hands comes up to cup the back of your head to keep you in place, fingers threading through your hair to grip as he moves his tiers slowly against yours, guiding you through your first kiss. He could tell you’re new to everything; not exactly knowing what to do with your lips besides what you see in films.

Satoru couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. “Just follow your Master, baby girl. Let him guide.” He mumbles against your plump lips and you relax on his lap, arms now snaking around his neck as you follow his lead. It’s not so clumsy anymore as you kiss him. Lips moving against lips. Tongue peeking out to swipe across lower tiers. You’re a quick learner, he notices. He fucking loves that. He continues to make out with you, time easing away and the kiss being fuelled with more passion. It’s sloppy, saliva smearing and neither of you seemed to care. You feel a mixture of peace and excitement as you kiss Satoru. Each touch is a reminder to you that he cares for you. That he won’t let anything happen. Not to mention that he’s just really good at taking the lead and kissing you breathless. You wonder if you’ll be allowed to kiss him more after, easily sinking into his trap.

You sigh happily, body moving on its own as you shift to straddle him properly, fingers threading through his white hair to gently pull on as you press flush against him; your covered breasts against his bare chest, unintentionally rubbing. You’re unaware of how you’re moving, just getting lost in the kiss. Satoru on the other hand, is deeply aware. Especially when you’re causing friction against his crotch and causing him to groan into the searing kiss. For a virgin, your body definitely has been craving to be touched. By him only. His tongue drags slowly across your lower lip until your lips part to whimper and he slides his tongue in with ease, gliding it across every inch of your mouth, eager to have your sweet taste permanently on his tongue. His hands are tight against your body to keep you in place, causing you to squirm and press into him, only craving to drown in the kiss.

You feel him slowly devour you, hand caressing along the length of your back and you just simply melt, completely dazzled by everything that is Gojo Satoru. It’s only a kiss, too. Will everything feel so good? His tongue rubs against yours as your pair of lips continue to move against his until eventually, he decides to part. There’s a string of saliva connecting your lips together, causing you to feel flush. “You’re a fast learner, Y/N.” He praises, intentions to trap you and reel you in further. You often enjoyed being praised by him for your work, so it only makes sense to him. His assumption was correct, eyes lighting up at his words and a hand quickly wiping away the saliva. “You’re a good teacher, Master.” You say softly, causing his ego to swell up.

His gaze darkens, using his strength to easily manhandle your body around until your back meets the bed and he’s pinning you down, one hand gripping firmly onto your wrist and his other stroking your side every so lightly. You choke on a surprised gasp from the sudden movement, staring up at him with wide eyes, long lashes fluttering gently. Is your heart racing from nerves? Excitement? “Baby..” He trails off, leaning down to brush his lips along your jawline, whispering. “You’re going to do something for me, aren’t you?” Satoru peeks up at your face and even someone untouched can pick up on the implication. You squirm nervously now. It’s all new. What if you’re not good at it? Should you really be doing this? Would Satoru want you if he wasn’t doing you such a huge favour? What is your worth? Your mind tends to still leave questions and Satoru doesn’t like that. He wants your mind free of everything but his voice.

“Remember that I’m doing you a favour, Y/N.” He growls lowly, teeth nipping at your flesh. He’s awful for being further aroused by instilling fear into you. It’s a necessity if he wants you to break and finally realise the truth properly. That you live to serve him completely. “Don’t be so scared, my sweet maid. You want this, I know you do. We’re taking our time. It’s just… Master is aching. Only wants your touch.” His large hand smothers one of your own, slowly guiding it towards his crotch. “If it wasn’t for me, you’d be crying on the streets in just seven days. So baby girl, just forget it all. Let me take care of you as you take care of me.” His words are low and soothing, listening intently to every word that he says like it’s a prayer to memorise.

That’s right. If it wasn’t for him, you’d be completely doomed. With determination pumping through your body, you move to sit up, hands pressing against his chest and he allows you to move him until he’s lying down on his back now, gazing up at you with a victorious grin displaying on his swollen lips. Fuck yes. You’re so easy to manipulate and it riles him up. He pretends that he’s calm, just adjusting the pillows beneath his head before a hand comes down to give your closest thigh a tender squeeze. It’s encouraging to you and you clasp his hands between both of yours, pressing it against your chest. You look at him like he’s everything to you. He always has been. That small crush turned into something more. Foolish of you to realise only now.

“I live to serve you, Master. I know I’m new but, I’ll do everything I can to make you feel good. Please teach me when I need it.” You express breathlessly before letting go of his hand to crawl between his parted legs. You curl up, leaning forward until your face presses against his crotch, nuzzling so lovingly and breathing in the scent of Satoru. He grits his teeth, long fingers twitching before he grips onto the blanket beneath him for now. The white-haired male didn’t expect such a filthy yet endearing gesture but it only causes him to ache, wishing for his cock to be freed already. “Good girl, you’re so good.. Show me what you know,” Satoru says through his clenched teeth, not daring to look away from the pretty sight of you between his long legs. Truth be told, you found that you’d just be happy to exist with your face nuzzling between his crotch, inhaling in his comforting scent. Yeah, sweat mixed with cologne. Some might find it off-putting but it’s Satoru! Your beloved boss.

Remembering scenes from films and your own curiosity as your motivator, you press your tongue flat against the fabric that restricts him, dragging it slowly across the mysterious thickness that his pants are hiding. It prompts a soft groan to leave Satoru, teeth latching onto his lower lip. He didn’t expect you to do something so teasing and lewd. It’s so long, you noticed. Your tongue reaches the end and that’s when you notice the leaking tip just peeking out from under the elastic band, his cock straining against it.

“Are you smiling because you get to see my cock? Dirty girl.” He snorts lightly and you bring a hand up to your mouth, noticing that you really were smiling down at his crotch. You assume it’s because you’ll get to give someone you adore some pleasure. Right? “Can’t help myself.” You tsk lightly, hooking your fingers beneath the elastic band and finally begin to hastily pull down. It seems like you’re pulling and pulling until finally, his erection springs out, slapping against his toned stomach. Your jaw drops in shock from how big it is. You’ve seen porn and obnoxiously big dicks but— Satoru’s is on another level. It’s not obnoxiously long that it seems fake but, it’s still huge. Thick, too. You can only imagine that your fingers will struggle to meet around it. There’s a pretty curve to the pulsating length, protruding veins along the sides. Your gaze is completely fixated on the beauty of it and something just clicks in your head as a droplet of pre-cum leaks from the head and down the many inches. It just clicks that, of course, Gojo Satoru would have the most beautiful cock in the world. Of course, it’d be attached to someone who deserves to be worshipped daily.

Satoru’s confidence just rapidly increases, casually resting an arm beneath his head, smirking at the cute sight of you being in a shock of silence. People in the past often said that he’s got a big dick but your face just says so much more. Mind games and all, it seems it’s just all falling into place and he’s pleased. “My sweet maid.” He calls out softly, his free hand managing to reach out to pet the top of your head as you stay kneeling between his legs. It coaxes you to lean down so it’s easier for him to pet you like some animal, making you silently wonder why you like the feeling of it. Why were you so foolish to call yourself his housekeeper for years when you were more than that? Being his maid is special. Intimate. It means you can do everything for him and he’ll keep you under his protection in return. “Go on, baby. I know you want to touch my cock and it’s cause of you that I’m so hard. Make me feel good…” He smiles to himself. “Paying your bills after all and taking care of you.”

That’s right! You can’t just keep sitting here in absolute awe when he’s waiting for pleasure in return for his help. Besides, he’s even further correct on you wanting to touch him with your virgin hands. You laugh shyly, fingers curling around the thick base and feeling it throb from your touch. The very tips of your fingers just are able to make contact. “I’m sorry, Master. It’s just— I’ve never seen… Only in media, y’know. You’re just so— Huge. So pretty.” You purr, now tenderly stroking along the length, making sure to touch every single inch.

His abdomen tenses from the touch, exhaling low through his mouth as he feels the pleasant warmth of your palm as you stroke gently. He closes his eyes for a moment. Satoru can feel your hand dragging, causing friction from the lack of lubricant. He briefly looks towards his drawer where he knows there’s a barely empty bottle of lube. He uses it a lot to the thought of you and now that he has you? Perfect. “Spit on it, baby. It will make me feel good. Take your time, do what feels natural.” The gentle order falls from his lips as he sighs. Usually, he’s an impatient man who’d just love to bend you over and rail your ass until you’re crying but this is his first time with you. He may have perhaps manipulated to get his way but he’s not going to rush such a perfect moment. Especially when your hand feels so snug and warm.

Spit on it… Right. You’ve read somewhere that dry friction is somewhat unpleasant and so you lean down, tongue hanging out just over the pretty tip and saliva begins to pool, slowly dripping out until you’re practically drooling over his cock. The pair of you actually moan together at the filthy sight, feeling the spit meeting the top of your hand and you begin to stroke until you’re coating his throbbing member with your own spit, pleased with the way it glistens beneath the light of the bedroom, making his cock entice you in further. You pick up the pace of your strokes, wrist twisting each time you slide your hand up and down. Your thumb rubs against the sensitive tip and he grunts, hips stuttering in response as the pleasure leaves him tingling.

You’re a natural when it comes to giving Satoru a handjob. His eyes nearly falling shut; half-lidded gaze focusing on the sight of your hand quickly stroking along his shaft, smearing the saliva that you continue to let drool out onto his tip. Satoru is breathing deeply, nails scraping against his own scalp as a pitiful attempt to contain himself through the gentle waves of pleasure. You’re still on your knees between his long limbs, though leaning down and ass pushing up into the air, appearing so inviting. You keep your face close to his throbbing cock, wanting to memorise the pretty sight and how it feels heavy against your palm. Wrist continues to twist with each stroke before you hear him groaning out your name. You feel pleased to be able to give your Master the pleasure he deserves.

You whimper in question when his hand grips firmly onto your hair, glancing up at him. Suddenly he’s pressing your face against the underside of his cock and you could feel your own spit against your face. “Use your mouth.” He pants out heavily, eyes swirling with victorious lust. You’re quick to oblige, mimicking with what you did before by dragging your tongue slowly along the underside, tracing along a vein until plush lips press against the pretty pink tip. You already find yourself loving the taste of him, craving more. You kiss sloppy innocent kisses to the leaking tip before you wrap your lips around it, suckling on it gently as you look up towards your Master.

Satoru rolls his eyes at the wet warmth of your mouth and your daring tongue sliding across the sensitive head. He waited far too long, mind momentarily wishing you were desperate for him to save you earlier. He’s a sick individual and gives no fuck. Being selfish gets him what he wants and that is every part of you. You look up towards his face with absolute adoration for the older male, tongue lapping at the tip and swirling around like it’s your own personal candy to enjoy. You’re unable to stop the soft moan from escaping and he inhales sharply when he feels the vibration along his thick cock. One hand continues to stroke and lovingly squeeze around the base of his length, mouth parting wider as you take more of him into your wet cavern.

Your jaw is tense, locked in place as you slide your mouth up and down the very first few inches, feeling it rub against your inner cheeks. You find that you already have to slurp up the large amounts of saliva that seeps out. Satoru feels himself twitch in your mouth, one arm briefly draping over his eyes as he focuses on nothing but the sweet wet mouth that surrounds his raging erection. His face scrunches up as the pleasure surges through him, groaning softly. He brings his hand down to firmly grip your hair from the back of your head, eagerly pushing down. Satoru knows that it’s so wrong to urge a virgin to go beyond their comfort levels but, your mouth is too heavenly to ignore & to be frank, he knows he’ll get away with it because of the ‘special’ situation. Hell, he knows that urged him to do it.

Your eyes widen as you feel the force against your head, whines muffled by the aching tug on strands of hair. For him— Satoru, the one who is giving you everything; you’ll do it for him. Happily. Inexperience and nerves be damned. You try to widen your mouth, gagging audibly when the tip of his thickness brushes against the back of your throat, choking as you pull away to look at him with wide eyes, spit mixed with pre-cum smeared and dripping from your chin. “M-Master, it hurts my jaw. I don’t know what to do, I really want your cock. I want to give you pleasure.” You plead breathlessly, eyes stinging with tears. You can’t screw this up.

It does the opposite of screwing up. Satoru is just so happy to not only have you, but a virgin to shape and play with. You’re going to accept anything he throws your way like a dog with a bone. “Baby girl, so inexperienced. Where would you be without me? You’re so lucky that I love to guide you through things.” He murmurs, fingers gently caressing along your jawline, leaning up on the elbow of his other arm. “Other men would find you so embarrassing but I just adore your innocent eagerness to please me. Just relax your jaw, Y/N. Relax as you take me in, okay? You’ll find yourself better at it than forcing yourself. I know my cock is so big for your cute mouth but you’ll take it all, won’t you? For me?” He explains, watching your eyes light up from the ‘teaching’ and helpful information.

“Of course, Master! I won’t dare miss any of you! Every inch of your beautiful cock deserves to feel pleasure. I can do it.” You insist, tears of worry glued to your long lashes. He has to tilt his head away to mask his look of disbelief. A true jackpot. Satoru simply nods to give you permission to continue. Your body muscles soften when you realise he isn’t giving up on you. The deal or whatever is still in motion and you’re just so thankful. He’s right that others would have rejected you. His kindness deserves to be shown your gratitude. Your plush lips wrap once more around the tip, bobbing your mouth up and down the first few inches slowly, eyes focused on him and the way his chest seems to stutter with his heavy breaths.

You squeeze your hand around the base before you start to slide your hot mouth down further, listening to his words from before and just relaxing into it. You close your eyes, nose scrunching slightly but you fixate on the taste of his cock against your tongue that caresses the underside of his twitching length, head tilting as you take more in. You find that you’re lacking oxygen with your mouth stuffed full and start to breathe through your nose. Saliva continues to dribble out, keeping that beautiful sheen over his cock whenever the spit meets the bedroom light. Even with advice in mind, you can’t help but gag on his throbbing cock whenever it presses against the back of your throat.

It’s become one of his favourite sounds. The sound of you choking on his fat cock, only eager to take every part of him. “Mm, fuck… Good girl, doing so good.. Fondle with my balls as you suck like the filthy girl you are for me, baby.” The dirty words just fall from his lips so easily when he feels the velvety feeling of your inner cheeks rubbing along his cock, brows furrowed as his hand returns to your head once more to push. Usually, such words may have shocked you but now with lips stretched so wide around his girth; you discover something new. You love his dirty talk. You worship every single word he says like nothing else holds value. It’s like he is your Go—

You’re yanked out of your loving thoughts when he snaps his hips up, now being the one to force his thick cock down your throat. He’s allowed to do whatever he wants, after all. Your hand cups his balls to tenderly fondle as you breathe heavily through your nose. A few droplets of tears glide down your warm cheeks, feeling the ache at the back of your throat as he keeps his dick stuffed down the warm hole, groaning out happily from the pleasant feeling. He can feel the way your throat muscles constrict and tighten around his invading cock, only driving him further as he begins to fuck your mouth, hand firmly on your head to keep you in place. He’s sliding his cock against your wet tongue, head tilting forward to see the pretty sight of you in tears and struggling to breathe properly.

“Such a cute virgin.” He pants out, causing your heart to flutter, happy that he’s able to find your inexperience and struggle cute. It didn’t matter to you at all, the painful ache and continuous gags rising up loudly whenever his erection slid out to let that moment of air before quickly taking it away from you. Even with your throat acting as some guard to prevent him from going further couldn’t stop him. No, Satoru would just push on your head as his hips snap up rapidly, grinning lightly from the wet squelching. Your nose keeps pressing against his stomach, muffling your needy sounds. The white-haired man coos mockingly when your hands flail, not knowing what to do with them as he fucks your open mouth roughly.

“Come on, baby. Put them to use. You wouldn’t want to make a mistake and lose your chance, would you? Even worse, you wouldn’t want to lose me.” He hisses out lowly, head tilting back as he moans, thankful for his own stubbornness to hold out just that bit longer. He wouldn’t leave you, but he sure loves to see you in momentary fear. The words send you into an internal panic. No! No, no, no! You don’t want to lose your Master! One hand quickly grips the side of his toned thigh to caress, the other returning to squeeze lightly and fondle his balls lovingly, eager to make the male happy.

Satoru’s eyes roll, widening for a moment before closing tightly. He can feel himself approaching his high quickly as his hips continue to snap at a fast pace to fuck your mouth nice and deep. If your mouth feels so good, Satoru couldn’t wait too long to stuff your virgin pussy with his monstrous-sized cock. It’d be even better. You feel lightheaded from not being able to get the proper amount of oxygen and it feels rather nice. Fuzzy. Nicer if you think about how much you trust Satoru and that he’s clearly loving your mouth. You’re happy to be so useful with just one of your holes. Still, it doesn’t stop you from choking, swallowing around his length as it slides beyond your cheeks and down until you can feel it when your hand quickly touches your throat. You could feel when his cock makes your throat bulge and hurt, tears and spit causing you to look like a hot mess already. It’s a miracle you chose today to not wear make-up, you would have had mascara running down your cheeks.

“Fuck— Fuck, Y/N. Take it. Be a good girl—“ Satoru gasps sharply, both large hands gripping onto the sides of your head to prison you in that only spot. A wave of ecstasy washes over his long body, causing his muscles to tense up and shake slightly as his cock finally pumps out ropes of sticky cum that paint your throat white. You breathe heavily out through your nose, eyes wide and frantic from something new filling your mouth and you have no other option but to swallow.

Why does it taste so good? You taste the saltiness of his cum and it lingers even as you happily swallow each drop that he’s blessed you with, feeling so special. You are, after all. He chose you and in return, you’ll be happy to receive anything from him if it means giving joy back. His nails scrape along your scalp, moaning deeply as he simply enjoys riding the wave that is his orgasm. Half-lidded gaze once more and he looks at you, cheeks puffed out from being pumped full of his cum, watching intently as you refuse to let any dribble out. Fucking hell, what did he do in his past life to be able to witness this?

He guides your head up and slowly off of his cock that slaps against his stomach once free. It already starts to twitch just as he watches you sputter. You’re dry-heaving deeply, hands gripping onto his thighs for support and feel relief for a moment that you can breathe through your mouth. You cough, strings of saliva still connecting to his sloppy cock and you wipe them away, trying to wipe your face clean. Your saliva mixed with his dry-cum already feels dry and crusty on your face. You must look awful, causing you to raise your hands to pitifully hide. Instantly, Satoru’s hands grip your wrists as he shifts to sit up with you, staring heavy and firm.

“No hiding.” He warns before his gaze softens, leaning in. “I think you look even prettier when you’re all messy like this. All thanks to me.” Satoru reminds gently, massaging small circles against your wrists. You feel your heart leap from his words, looking at the white-haired male so fondly. Master. Saviour. “Th— ank you.” You manage to rasp out despite your abused throat aching. Satoru coos endeared entirely because of you and presses multiple kisses to your swollen lips. He could taste himself. “How’d I taste, my sweet maid? You better expect more.” He chuckles gently, nose pressing against your temple as he inhales deeply. He could smell your sweat laced with your favourite perfume and silently thanks the heat.

You don’t realise it but your eyes light up at his words, giddy from realising this isn’t the end. Your nerves may never be conquered until it’s over and you have given your true first to him but, you couldn’t deny that you actually enjoyed having him inside your mouth. Especially when he started taking control and you just had to take it. Mess and all. Maybe it’s scary for a virgin to be thinking this but… It just feels like this is what you’re destined to do. To truly serve Gojo Satoru. He’s offering to pay your bills, too. A bonus, really.

“Your cum… It’s my favourite taste now.” You confess sheepishly and his ego just explodes from hearing that, toned arms wrapping around you to pull him down into his crushing embrace. You giggle happily, pleased by his reaction and press loving kisses to his sharp collarbone, hand between bodies coming down to caress along his length lightly. “I’m not afraid to continue, Master.” You express, worried that he might think otherwise. You can’t lose this. “I want you.” You whine, pressing into his bigger form.

Satoru is smirking over your shoulder, hand rubbing along your back. You’re still clothed and finally, he’ll be able to really see everything and burn it into his mind. Fantasies no more when he has the real deal being shaped into craving him and wanting to do everything he says. “You want me. I always knew you did. It was written all over your pretty face. Especially when you’re so scared and desperate, hm? You just want me to take over, so you can be my cute little maid who doesn’t need to think.” Satoru whispers, lips brushing against your ear. His long fingers now coming down to run along the edge of your booty shorts, smiling when you squirm. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks from the white-haired male reading you a bit too well, leaning into his touch.

“Soon, we’ll make love.” He says, eyes focused on your reaction. There it is. He can say the way your eyes cloud over and lips curl into a smile. You’re far too easy to trick and Satoru thinks to himself that if any other person tries, he’ll destroy them. You are his to mess with. “First, though... Let me make you feel good. Get you all relaxed and comfortable.” Satoru purrs against your ear before he lifts himself up to stare down at you, feeling eager like a puppy for a treat. You are his treat. All his for the taking. You give him a questioning look, fully expecting him to just yank your clothes off and shove his length into your virgin hole. That’s what you’ve seen in the media. That’s what your friends tell you when they gossip about their sex lives. Sex is something rushed and mostly for men to feel good.

How wrong you were. You close your eyes tightly, waiting for what you expect to happen, but nothing does. Satoru is gazing down at you and he’s no mind reader but he basically could read you from how you’re behaving. Ha. Every moment just seems to reward him with something. You, the one that he has been craving deeply for a long time, happen to be a virgin and not only that, you’ve clearly been watching the wrong set of media and have the pitiful thoughts that it’s just for a man to fuck a hole. He gets to be the one to teach you that it is so much more than that. You won’t view him the same as other men, but someone above them. He’ll get to trick that pretty little mind of yours that he is one of a kind and to never let go of him. You’ll truly believe that no one else can take care of you and you’ll be happily devoted to him. Call him confident or cocky, Satoru doesn’t care when it’s true. Besides, he really thinks no other man can compare to him.

His bigger form leans down over you, warm breath fanning against your neck before he begins to leave a trail of wet kisses, tongue teasingly dragging along your soft skin and teeth nipping at it as well. You squirm a little, raising to rest a hand against his broad back, feeling the way his muscles move beneath your palm and you sigh out softly, already feeling all tingly. “Don’t you want to fuck me, Master? Why aren’t you?” You question quietly, words trailing off as a needy moan escapes you. He’s sucking harshly on the flesh, making a dark bruise starting to form as he pulls away, looking down at you. He laughs, one hand cupping your chin and long fingers squishing your cheeks together until your already swollen lips pucker up.

“Make love.” He corrects deliberately, though you’re of course utterly oblivious and just look up at him in complete awe. “You don’t need to worry, Y/N. I’ll be making love to you and you’ll be free of all worries, I’m doing all of this for you. Remember?” He waits for you to nod before pecking your lips, teeth latching onto your lower lip to suck on gently before pulling away, saliva connecting your lips with his once more. “I want to take my time. You’re new to all of this and you clearly don’t know what sex is really about, my pretty girl. I’m here to show you.” He says before returning to kiss your neck sweetly, one hand slowly unbuttoning the last few buttons of your work shirt.

You couldn’t stop a smile from appearing on your visage, arms wrapping around his strong body to cling onto as you feel his lips on your neck, whimpering occasionally from feeling the light ache of him sucking harshly until for hickeys to form. You really struck gold and to think that your world was going to crash and end in just a few days. Not only is he saving you by paying bills; but he’s going to make your first time one to remember. Even if it’s been a bit rough with the way he relentlessly fucked your mouth until you were gagging and choking for air, you discover that you… actually enjoyed it. You don’t want to trouble yourself with understanding why and just focus on the moment with Satoru as he gives it all to you.

The white-haired male sits up, long fingers pushing strands out of his crystal blue eyes before he grabs the hem of your shirt and begins to tug up. He didn’t have to ask as you obediently lift your arms up and that just makes his cock throb. Perfect. Satoru smirks behind the shirt that he lifts over your head and you can’t see his face, whining when it gets stuck on your head. “Take it off, I want to see you..” You plead quietly and Satoru laughs, pleased by your words. He’s a sucker for someone needy and dependent on him.

“Who chose this stupid uniform for you to wear—“ He huffs, yanking it off swiftly and you laugh with amusement, shaking your head. “Um, you did?” You tease the male lightly and he rolls his eyes. “Right, dumb choice that was. Personally, I like maid uniforms. They’re a lot cuter.” Satoru tosses the shirt aside, eyes lingering on the gorgeous sight of your breasts being pushed up by the bra. You feel your cheeks becoming hot and look off to the side. Maid dresses? That would be so inappropriate and yet, you don’t care. He’s right. They are cuter. “I think maid dresses are nice... I could wear them instead..” You suggest quietly, too flustered to look at him.

Bingo. Satoru can see the signs of you falling for him when you agree so easily and it makes him grin down towards you, eyes holding warmth. “Conversation for another time, Y/N. Right now, I want to focus on you.” He sighs as he cups your breasts over the bra to give a small squeeze, noticing the way your hardened buds press against the fabric. You whimper behind your hand as his expert hands continue to fondle, giving a harsh squeeze every so often and it feels so good— You even feel your pussy leak further with aroused juices, soaking through your panties and shorts. He cups the back of your neck with one hand to guide you up towards his chest other hand unhooking your undergarment before rather hastily moving you out of it, feeling the straps slide down your arms until you’re on your back again, breasts exposed to the tall male. “Fucking hell..” He mutters under his breath, hands cupping the sides of your boobs, loving the sight of how the squishiness fills the gaps of his fingers and presses your breasts together until he leans down to bury his face, happily nuzzling against the soft mounds.

You bring a hand up to stroke along the back of his head, a mixture of giddiness and embarrassment washing over you from the fact that the man in charge of you is clearly favouring your boobs right now. “Ah, are you a boob man? You must be.” You joke lightly, giggling behind your hand. Satoru snorts, peeking up at you. “I’m a Y/N man.” He answers, not caring if it makes sense. His hands continue to massage, thumb brushing against your sensitive buds and you whine, pulling on his hair until he groans. Your heart easily flutters at his words, keeping your head tilted up to gaze up at the ceiling, feeling a sweet daze coming over you as he gives your chest special attention.

Satoru’s tongue drags flat over your left nipple, swirling it around and flicking the tip against it, all the while his hand continues to pinch and twist the right, coaxing out mewls and moans right from your mouth and it sends excitement straight to his dick that is already starting to harden despite releasing cum so recently. Just the reminder of you swallowing his cum causes him to rut slowly against the king-size mattress. It’s cute, seeing you so reactive from this alone. His piercing gaze never leaves your scrunched-up face, lips puckered around the nipple to suckle on gently, long fingers squeezing the flesh harshly.

You whimper out for him; your Master. You could feel the cool air of the aircon drying the saliva that coats your breasts from him licking around the soft mounds, biting down on the flesh to scatter hickeys across. You’re like his own personal canvas for him to enjoy marking up and truth be told, Satoru is holding back in that department. He may get aroused by your fear but anything too terrifying could have you running. He needs to pull you in slowly until your devotion to him is unable to be tainted. Besides, Satoru also selfishly doesn’t want to expose you to everything that fuels him so you’ll keep coming back with eagerness for this new world.

It’s hard to stay quiet, feeling his tongue dance across each breast and sloppy kisses pressed against them. You quiver with pleasure floating through you whenever he makes contact with your nipples, trying so hard to not cover your face with your hands. Satoru lifts himself up, exhaling out loud and dramatic. “Your tits are the best I’ve played with.” He chuckles, glancing up to see your reaction. He notices your cute pout, prompting him to grin down at you, hand covering your left breast giving a squeeze.

Jealousy bubbles up inside of you and you try to frantically shake it away, thinking to yourself how silly you’re being. It doesn’t matter if you’ve had a big crush on Satoru since the dawn of time. He’d clearly see other women, maybe even men. He’s ridiculously hot and besides, he’s doing you a favour… Even if some little beast inside of you growls to possessively have him; you swat it away, desperate to keep the jealousy hidden. “Hmph, well.. Maybe it just means you need to play with them whenever you want to, Master. I am your maid, after all.” You say with a sweet smile gracing your lips and long lashes fluttering, drawing him in so easily. Satoru’s gaze is hot with passion, swirled with a sense of possessiveness. Truthfully speaking, Satoru hasn’t slept with anyone since the day he met you. He just cut them all off, imagining his hand as your tight cunt instead as he jacks himself off on a daily basis. Usually after bidding you farewell. Obsession at its finest and he knows.

He hums softly, suddenly giving your tit a swift slap to watch it jiggle and you breathe in sharply from the sting of pain that spreads across your breast. You didn’t expect it, though your thighs are now starting to feel sticky from how much your aroused slick just soaked your clothing. Confusion settles over you when you realise you enjoyed it and being the mind reader that Satoru is; slaps the other one, enjoying the numb feeling that spreads across his palm. You let out a whimpering gasp as the burning sensation spreads across, looking up at him in admiration. Your brows furrowed and lips parted, fingers gripping onto sheets. How does he know your body so well? How does he know you so well? You start to wonder… Were you destined to serve him and be blessed with a higher being knowing you to your core? To be able to let go and be taken care of in every way, including your body? You never thought pain could be so sweet and maybe it’s because it’s from Satoru.

The corners of his lips twitch as he watches you intently, endeared by the sight of you potentially coming to terms that you like pain by his hands. A masochist to his sadist self. He could never let go. Still, he keeps it minimal. Giving you only a taste of the world that could open up with him. One hand grips your hip, the other giving a few more fleeting slaps across your breasts, cock swollen just from watching them jiggle and you squirm beneath his grip, biting down on your lip as if that could prevent filthy sounds from escaping. The repeated harsh stings now become numb as he tenderly massages to ease the impact of his palm, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple, whispering. “How’d I know that my innocent maid would be a slut for pain? Might be something I have to warm you up into taking more. You do look cute when you squirm from a mere slap.” The humiliation from his words settles over you, shyly tilting your head away to avoid eye contact.

It’s even more embarrassing because you didn’t know you could be physically more aroused and yet, you feel more of your juices seep out. Your body is clearly eager to take something more. Something a lot bigger. Satoru tsks lightly, a finger pressing against your chin to guide you back into looking at him. It’s only a warning. You watch as his large hands spread across the top of your thighs, nails digging into the warm flesh and pushing your legs open until your covered pussy is on display. “I sure hope it’s me that you’re so drenched for and not for having your bills paid. You wouldn’t be like that, would you? Is it the money that arouses you?” He feigns the insecurity with a sigh and you practically leap at the chance to reassure a man who has nothing but a huge ego and confidence.

“N-No! I mean— I’m thankful, Master. You know I am, but this is so much more! You’re taking care of me and showing me new things... I don’t trust anyone but you. Besides, it’s you that’s—… making me horny, not money.” You mumble out quickly, words slurring together. It’s hard to confess to your superior that you’ve been crushing on him since day one. All thanks to his good looks, kindness and irresistible charm. The fleeting moment of panic causes him to coo softly, pressing tender kisses down along your soft stomach as he bends over you, long fingers hooking beneath the fabric of your shorts and panties. “Of course, sweet girl. You wouldn’t be like that to me. So very horny and all for me. Drenched and I’ve barely touched you.” He teases as he uses his free hand to grip the side of your leg, guiding upwards and your other leg follows. His caress is a form of silence praise before he hastily tugs the clothing along the length of your legs until he’s finally able to toss them aside.

He was a lover of those shorts, really. Thankful to the heat waves for prompting you to ask for permission. Ugh, it was mere hours ago, but he clearly remembers his body being crushed by arousal just from picturing it in his mind. Now he’s eager for the soaked-through summer piece to be gone. Hands come up to cover your face quickly, overcome with a mixture of emotions. No one has ever seen you completely naked. Nor in such a vulnerable position. Satoru’s gaze darkens, though fond, as he witnesses you try to pitifully hide. His hands grip on the inner sides of your legs and gently forces them apart until he can finally see every part of you.

A shaky exhale escapes his parted lips, eyes rather manic and eager as he continues to look. He’s been waiting for so long. Too long, in his opinion. He wishes there was an earlier chance. Your legs drop back down onto the mattress on either side of his bigger physique. Your pussy is on complete display for Satoru. Even when he’s sitting up, he can see your excited juices coating the folds, droplets slowly dropping onto the sheets and the slick smeared across your inner thighs. Ego is through the roof, knowing that this is all because of him. Kissing. Fucking your mouth. Giving your breasts attention. Not much to take you dripping for him. Long fingers push white strands of hair out of his eyes, grinning to himself.

Satoru leans forward to take hold of your wrists, pulling your hands away. “No more hiding, I want you to watch what I do for you. I want you to see how good I’ll make you feel and no one else can do what I can, understood?” He asks, prompting you to frantically nod your head. “I understand.. Master? It’s— It’s going to hurt, right? What if I bleed? I’m a little bit scared, of just— you know..” You stumble over your words, looking off to the side. Satoru couldn’t help but soften. It’s hard not to, even when he’s usually gleeful from witnessing you be nervous. He may be sadistic and a huge manipulator but, he still cares so deeply for you. Feelings just don’t get tossed aside just because he’s getting his dick wet.

“Firstly, baby girl. I’m not doing that just yet.” He laughs lightly, lowering himself down until he’s pressing you into the mattress, forearms on either side of your head to hold himself up. One hand strokes along the top of your head lovingly, smiling down at you. “I promised to take good care of you, didn’t I? So that doesn’t mean selfishly shoving my dick inside of you. Though, the idea is hot.” He pauses, letting you giggle softly in disbelief at his crude words. “It means preparing you and coaxing you into a state of complete bliss. Besides, I’m a lover of eating out.” He purrs lowly, kissing along your jaw lightly, nipping at the flesh. “Also, not every girl bleeds so you might not. You’ve really been so poorly educated and believing misconceptions, but I’m here for you now.”

It’s somewhat embarrassing that you believed things so easily. Truthfully speaking, he’s sadly right. You’ve never been the type to just deeply dive into the world of Sex. You always thought of it as something you’d wait for the right time to properly experience it. You just knew what you’ve heard from gossip and media. Naivety at its finest. Still, you have Satoru now. Teaching you everything right and how sex isn’t just revolving around a male’s pleasure. Satoru is a true man and it feels so right to give him everything, despite the circumstances.

Wait— Eating out? You feel yourself feel hot all over from realising what else he expressed. Is he really going to do that? Fuckboys in your past who have tried to win you over; often said that shit is gross. Yet, Satoru loves to do it? You laugh out shyly, hand caressing along his toned back. “You’re so bold.” You mumble, eyes becoming half-lidded as you focus on the pleasant feeling of the tall male trailing kisses down the length of your body. He takes his sweet time with it. Each kiss is tender and loving. It feels as if he’s trying to reassure you that everything will be okay. Satoru easily shifts his body down with each kiss until he’s laying on his toned stomach, face hovering over the heavenly sight of your dripping cunt.

You feel the warmth of his breath fan across your pussy and it’s like your body acts on its own; pussy clenching around nothing. Is he really about to? Your hand quickly comes down to grip his hair, causing him to grunt in question, looking up at you. Flustered, you squeeze your legs against the sides of his head as if that will stop him. “You’re not really? I might taste bad!” You whisper loudly and frantic, trying to pull him away by the hair. It only fuels his eagerness. Satoru doesn’t even speak, arms just snaking around your quivering thighs to forcefully hold them apart before he leans in and finally, drags the flat of his tongue between your slick folds.

Pleasure jolts through you like electricity from the first touch of your pussy by another, causing you to gasp sharply, fingers through his hair trembling. The corners of his lips curl up, smiling against your pussy before he continues to slowly drag his tongue between your folds, moaning at the sweet taste that fills his mouth. “So fucking sweet..” He mumbles, words muffled as his lips press against your cunt, slurping loudly and devouring you for the first time. His nails dig into your thighs, tongue swirling around your sensitive clit and you couldn’t stop the needy whimpers from escaping.

Everything felt so new. So good. Your hips buck upwards every time there’s pleasure just surging through you, directly from your core. He firmly holds you down against his mattress, refusing to pull away. He doesn’t dare to stop now, after finally capturing what he’s been chasing for years. Satoru kisses your clit before sucking gently, tongue flicking against the nub and you cry out loudly for him. Completely blissed out already, hands desperately gripping his white hair as a way to ground yourself as your head tilts back, chest arching upwards.

Satoru feels as if he’s in heaven with you. Just from the sweet taste that overwhelms his mouth from how much you’re leaking, to your adorable needy sounds. The painful tug on his hair only drives him further, pressing his mouth firmly against your cunt as he makes out with it, lips moving hungrily as his tongue continues to tease the clit or drag along your folds. It’s as if he’s scared that your excited slick will go to waste. He couldn’t let that happen. Selfishly, every drop is for him and him alone. He unwraps one of his arms from around your thigh to bring towards your womanhood. Two long fingers part your folds and he curses from seeing the strings of your excitement, tongue dragging between to break them.

You whimper, toes curling as a way to try and not be overwhelmed by the pleasure. Impossible not to be. You could hear the loud sounds of him slurping up your mess as he eats you out with so much desperation, gasping loudly when his thumb pressed against your clit to rub gently in a circular motion. “Fuck, I’m so obsessed with your pretty pussy. Taste so sweet, baby. Want to devour you always.” Satoru groans breathlessly, feeling intoxicated from your taste alone, watching with great fascination as your slick coats his fingers. It only leaves him wondering what it’d be like to be inside of you, buried in deep to the hilt.

“Master, ah—! Why does it feel so goo’…” You slur out happily, body so much more relaxed compared to just moments ago. Your eyes roll as he continues to rub his thumb against your clit, pressing sloppy kisses down along your folds until his tongue meets your entrance. He teasingly continues to drag his tongue around it and you couldn’t stop from doing tiny kicks of frustration against the mattress, wanting more. He laughs mockingly at your eagerness. “Look at you now, all you want is me, isn’t that right? Can’t live without my touch.” His words are muffled, squirming from the feeling of his lips moving against your cunt as he talks. You pant softly, tongue lolled out and eyes unable to focus on anything.

Satoru is right. He’s always right. Of course, it’d only take one touch; one caress and even a simple kiss to drag you into his depths, tangled and completely devoted to him. His talented mouth washing away all your worries you have of losing your virginity. Bills be damned. He takes care of you so well. The only one who takes care of you. Satoru is the one you wish to worship like your own God. He presses sloppy kisses to your clit, one finger caressing your hole before slowly pushing in— And fuck, he could feel your velvety walls stretch around the new invasion but wrapping so snug and tight. He wishes it was his cock already.

Your brows furrow, lips parting slightly as you feel his long finger sliding in so easily, thanks to your slick and relaxed body. It’s a new feeling. It’s not too painful, easing your worries further. Satoru didn’t wait to start moving his single digit, sliding it in and out of your warm tightness slowly, voice low and soft. “You’re doing so well with everything, Y/N. Such a good girl, not scared of anything. You trust me that much and I’m thankful, will only reward you with pleasure.” Satoru continues to take his time with pumping his finger, forehead resting against your quivering thigh for a moment as he fixates on the sweet feeling of your walls squeezing around. It takes everything within him to not pin you down and just have his way. It’s not just about him and never will be, even if he enticed you this far.

With a glance up towards your face and noticing how buzzed out you appear to be from the pleasure, Satoru slides his finger out, now pressing two of his fingers against your tight entrance. His tongue swirls against your throbbing clit as a distraction, sliding both of his fingers slowly, feeling your walls stretch even further. You whine from feeling your pussy stretch around his fingers, head tilting to the side to nuzzle against the pillow that smells of him, closing your eyes. There may have been a further stretch but everything still feels so fucking good as he pumps the two digits at a slow pace, sucking gently on your clit to further the pleasure.

You look so perfect in his eyes. Satoru is thankful to both destiny and himself, to be able to get you to this position and able to open your eyes to the world of pleasure. The world of sex. He angles his fingers as he picks up the pace of fingering you, desiring to find a certain spot. It didn’t take long at all, he realises. You cry out in surprise from feeling a more intense jolt of pleasure pierce through your body from your core, fisting the sheets and your hips start to roll, grinding down against his fingers. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Satoru curses repeatedly from witnessing the slutty sight of you now starting to fuck down against his long fingers. The very same fingers that rub against your sweet spot, causing moans to fall from your swollen lips, eyes clouded with new-found lust and your slick pooling out practically from how excited you are.

The lower half of his face is smeared with the same mess, pressing a final kiss to your clit before he moves himself up so he could hover above you properly, caging you in once more. The squelching sound of his fingers slowly fucking into you doesn’t embarrass you anymore and he only finds it to be hotter. You snake your arms around his neck to cling onto him, lips dragging along his broad shoulder. “So fucking pretty and all mine..” He breathes out, slowly inserting a third finger to properly stretch you out for him.

Your face scrunches up from feeling the subtle pain of your walls stretching out around the three long digits. He hushes you gently, lips to your temple and you could hear him mutter praise. It leaves your heart thumping fast with joy that the praise is for you and not some other girl. It’s all you. You feel his three digits drag along your velvety walls covered in your juices, the subtle pain slowly subsiding and turning into pleasure. It feels so good, the way they slide in and out. To be able to reach deeply but, it makes you wonder how deep his cock could go. You whimper, tightening your hold as you look up at him in complete admiration.

He cares for you so much. It’s that thought; the one repeating in your mind like a mantra that makes you realise. You’re ready and you want it now. You want him to finally take what you’ve been slowly craving to give him. You squeeze your thighs around his wrist, stopping his fingers that are buried inside of you. Satoru looks towards you, his free hand stroking along your hair lightly. He grins a little, unable to stop himself. “Ready, are you?” Finally. Satoru pulls away, fingers sliding out of your core, inspecting them. Strings of slickness connect his long fingers together and not wanting to waste a drop, slowly drags his tongue along his fingers to lick off your juices with a hum. Feeling flustered, you look away from the hot sight. He chuckles lowly and shifts himself until his cock is positioned near your womanhood but not quite. He’s pretending to reach towards his drawer. “Condom, I suppose.” He says and your hand whips out to grip onto his wrist, looking up at him. Satoru had a feeling that you’d stop him. Call him crazy, but he knows you pretty well. He feigns surprise, eyebrow raising.

“You don’t want me to use a condom?”

“Nn… No, I want to feel you properly.”

“Ah, is it because I’ve slept with others and used condoms?” Satoru teases and you huff, squeezing his wrist. Perhaps he’s sort of right. It seems your own selfishness is growing along the side of his and now that you’re in this position, about to give something special; you want to be the special one in his eyes. The chosen one. He laughs lightly, almost mocking, but really he’s endeared and quite pleased. This is what he wanted. “No condom when it comes to my sweet maid.” Satoru agrees before moving back, condoms lying forgotten at the back of his drawer.

One hand grips your hip to keep you in place as he positions his thick, pulsating cock against your pussy. He slowly grinds, watching in complete awe as his length slides between your folds, coating in your juices. You whine, sensitive whenever you feel him grind against your clit. One hand holds his cock by the base and he slaps his cock against your pussy with a happy sigh, head tilting back. ‘Fucking finally’, he thinks. Quietly, Satoru positions himself until his tip is pressing against your entrance.

Nerves flare up when you realise what’s about to happen and even though you deeply want him, you couldn’t help but wonder about the pain. He’s a lot bigger than three of his fingers. Noticing your nerves, Satoru reaches for your hand with his free one, lacing his fingers with yours and giving a squeeze. “The pain will go away quickly, baby. Do you trust me? You know I wouldn’t do anything bad. This is all for you… Everything is for you.” He says softly, the comforting words washing over you. You nod his head and smile gently, holding onto his hand. “I trust you, Master… I’m ready.”

With that, Satoru presses the tip of his leaking cock against your hole, brows furrowing as he realises truly how tight you are. It takes a little bit of force but he manages to nudge his tip inside of you and slowly begins to push his cock inside of you. You strangle out a cry, eyes widening as you look up at him in a mixture of emotions. Disbelief from how huge he is. The giddiness that you are finally giving him what he deserves to have. Pain from the wide stretch as your own cunt has to adjust to the new size. Tears glue to your long lashes, panting heavily to try and calm yourself down as your walls forcefully stretch around the new invasion. Something so much bigger than anything else before.

He’s squeezing your hand, groaning from feeling your velvety slick walls squeezing around his throbbing cock. It’s only a few inches but he pauses to allow you to adjust. Even though his body wants to act on its own and start jackhammering your tight pussy with his huge cock. You’re silently thankful that he’s pausing, nails digging into his hand as you close your eyes tightly. The tender strokes of his other hand aid you in relaxing. “My pretty girl... Sweet Y/N. It will be okay soon, I promise.” He reassures softly.

You eventually nod your head, a bit dazed by everything. With the sign to continue, Satoru pushes his hips forward. He slowly slides his length inside your core until he’s completely buried deep inside of you, every inch of him finally covered with the wet warmth of your heavenly walls. His muscles tense, head tilting back as he pants deeply from the sensation he feels, You choke on a moan of his name when he’s pushed deep inside of you and it hurts so badly to be stretched out to where you’ve never been stretched out before.

Satoru pushes through his selfish needs to lean down and embrace you, pressing loving kisses across your face, gently hushing you. “I know, I know... It will feel good soon, I promise. Baby girl, believe your Master. You trust him, don’t you? It will feel so good for you.” He whispers, keeping his throbbing cock still inside of you so your now non-virgin pussy could get used to the feeling. Thankfully, it’s not as bad as it could have been. You know that now. He did take care of you to feel good. To get that glimpse of pleasure and truth to be told, beyond the stretch? You love the feeling of being stuffed full of his beautiful cock. It makes you feel complete.

His large hands caress along your sides, lips brushing across your hot skin as he continues to help you ease into relaxing, forcing himself to ignore the way your walls keep clenching around his cock, wrapped around him so perfectly. You’re too out of it to be aware of time, but soon enough you start to move a little. It’s a signal for him to continue and that you’re ready for more. The white-haired male keeps his bigger body pressed against you, embracing you as he starts to move his hips, slowly fucking into you.

You whimper from feeling his hard length slowly slide within you. He doesn’t pull out of you entirely, thinking you’re not ready for it. Just keeping everything gentle and taking his time. Even though his hips stutter, eyes rolling at the pleasurable feeling that washes over him from your slick walls rubbing along his length. It hurts at first and you have to contain yourself through clenched teeth and nails digging into his hot flesh. You believe him that it will start to feel good and—

Oh… The pain is finally subsiding, being replaced with that pleasure that you’ve been hoping for. It’s subtle at first, leaving you all pleasant and tingly as you cling to him. You squeeze around his cock, moving your arms to wrap around his neck. He tilts his head to look at you, eyes swirling with lust mixed with something deeper that you don’t know. Satoru smiles down at you, leaning down to press his lips against yours to form a kiss as he picks up the pace of his cock thrusting into you. He’s right and always has been about everything. Foolish of you to have been nervous. The pleasure leaves tingles across your body as you feel his cock sliding in and out with ease from your aroused juices. He starts to move more, grinding down deep against you, hands cupping your sides to hold you. You moan happily into the kiss, fingers tangling into his hair to pull on. The ache that he feels only encourages him to move fast and deep. “Fuck, you’re so tight. So fucking good for me.” He moans against your lips before pulling away to look at your fucked out expression. Eyebrows knitted together to form a frown, lips open wide and eyes watery from tears that threaten to spill.

Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. Satoru’s nails drag along your sides and you squirm, enjoying the light burn you feel from the nails scraping your skin. You spread your legs wider like you’re some eager slut for him to see everything and he loves it. He lifts his body off of you to finally witness the sight of his thick, long cock sliding in and out of you with ease. Your velvety walls continue to wrap snug and tight around his length whenever he pushes in, dragging along his cock when he slides out as if your needy cunt is desperate to keep him deep inside of you. It feels so fucking good to be filled by him.

It truly is a beautiful sight to see his cock appear and disappear before his eyes, loving the pleasure that surges through him from his cock whenever he’s buried deep to the hilt. “You’re all mine, fuck. Can’t believe it’s taken this long. Pretty pussy clenching around me. Never had something so big in your life, huh? Look at it making you bulge.” The filthy words continue to fall from his lips between grunts as his hips snap forward, thrusting into your pussy hard. His hand presses against your lower stomach to feel his thickness fucking into you. There’s no pain anymore, minus the burn of his scratches and sting when his balls slap against your ass as he pounds into your wet heat relentlessly.

All you can see are stars as ecstasy just washes over you in crashing waves. One hand helplessly gripping onto him and you could feel your breasts bounce with each hard impact. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mixing with the lewd sounds of your needy, high-pitched moans and his groans. You look at him in absolute awe, tears threatening to spill. He notices your expression mid-fuck and it only drives him further, each deep thrust of his throbbing cock becoming rough. “Fuck, god—” He curses and you cry out, latching desperately onto his words.

“Y-You’re my God!” You stutter out quickly, heart hammering from your confession. You couldn’t be in denial any more. He truly is your saviour, after all. Bills aside, he’s making love to you in the best way possible. A God does everything for their believers. He does everything for you. He took you in and eased your troubles. He’s giving you pure ecstasy in the form of his cock. Satoru has saved you. Satoru’s heart leaps from your words, driving to the point of insanity as he gazes down at you with pure satisfaction. You’re giddy from seeing how pleased he is, clinging hopelessly to the taller male.

“My perfect girl.” He huffs out, pulling his throbbing length out until only his tip is inside. Satoru didn’t even wait until he slammed himself in, feeling your slick walls gripping onto his cock, prompting you to scream out for him, tears spilling down your cheeks. To have you worshipping him and crying out in pleasure become his reality; leaves him feeling so happy. Happiness wrapped in his own ecstasy. You’re so happy as he continues to relentlessly fuck into you, feeling so empty whenever his cock slides out, only to pleasantly surprise you by filling your core to the brim again. It feels so fucking good. You swear you’ve never felt anything like this before.

Addiction for not only his cock but, the male in general begins to grow. Your fists grip the crinkled sheets to stabilise yourself as each rough thrust, though it seems to do nothing. His strength behind his thrusts is more than enough to cause your body to jerk upwards, moving against the mattress. As you continue to squeeze so sweetly around his pounding cock, Satoru pants heavily, completely tangled up in the pleasure that continues to surge through him, even causing his toes to curl. One hand fiercely grips your hip still, the other coming down to rub your clit. You strangled out his name, too blissed out to be embarrassed by anything. Not even how heavy you seem to cry from the pure euphoria that drowns you.

Satoru burns the image of you sobbing into his mind, wanting to forever remember the way your face scrunches up or how your eyes roll from the complete bliss and cheeks stained with tears. His thumb continues to rub in a circular motion, panting heavily and head tilting back, unable to contain himself like he could with other girls. No, you bring out the beast that resides within him. Relentless with his fucking and possessive growls parting from his lips. “All fucking mine, got it? No one else can have you. I’ll break them. This pussy belongs to me. You belong to me.” The white-haired male groans out, muscles tensing.

You’re barely able to process the hot words, only knowing it fuels your desire and happiness to be owned by the male. Your beloved God. Master to serve, always. Your stomach begins to feel tight, clit throbbing and with no true experience of an orgasm; even you know what rapidly approaches you as he fucks into your cunt. You squeeze around his length, whimpering loudly. Satoru can just tell when he looks down at you. Maybe from looking so fucked out by him and it makes his ego rise, but he’s eager to give you what you deserve for being so cute and obedient.

“Let it go, baby girl. Fall into it.” He whispers and you manage to tug him down so you’re clinging, trembling legs wrapping loosely around his waist for support. He presses a tender kiss to your temple, panting heavily and with his cock sliding out to the tip, he slams back into your warm hole and everything just seems to explode for you. Pleasure surges through your trembling body, leaving you gasping sharply and babbling out moans, unable to truly comprehend the ecstasy that you feel as you come around his cock. Your walls flutter, clenching repeatedly around his cock that starts to sloppily fuck into you. Your eyes are rolling, desperately gripping onto the taller male as your body continues to tense up before relaxing through a tremble. the intense orgasm easily overwhelming you.

Satoru hips stutter, driving himself further to his own orgasm as he feels your slick walls dragging along his thrusting length, pulsating around his thickness. His forearms pressed against either side of your head, panting heavily. “Fuck, good girl—” He praises you for climaxing, hearing the obnoxious squelching sound lacing with the slaps of his balls against your ass. With one look at you, Satoru slides out before sheathing his cock deep inside of you for the final time. His own waves of complete euphoria crash down on him and he moans out sweetly for you, forehead resting against yours as ribbons of white sticky cum start to fill you up. You feel so fucking full, stuffed with his throbbing length and his cum that continues to just pump inside of you, leaving you breathless and your head positively spinning.

Muscles like jelly, Satoru collapses onto you, trapping you down against the mattress and smothering you with his warmth, body light with sweat. Your breasts squish against his chest and fuck, even that makes him happy. He’s panting heavily, head resting next to yours and staying buried inside of you, not wanting to pull out. You still feel the bliss from your first proper orgasm, hand coming up to stroke along his toned back, letting yourself stay in the pleasant daze. He smiles softly, endeared by not only your gentle touch but the expression you wear. He leans in to scatter light kisses against your neck, hand coming up to tenderly cup your cheek. When he does manage to lift himself up, Satoru gazes at you with something you couldn’t quite figure out. It did make you feel all warm and happy though.

His thumb brushes tears away, kissing your forehead before he finally decides to slide out of your tight heat. You pout at the loss, feeling your hole clench now around nothing. His sticky cum already starting to seep out and smear across your thighs when you clench them together, wanting to stay full of his seed. He slumps onto his side, draping his arm across your body to pull you in. He actually got what he wanted and not only that, you’ve been shaped into someone who craves to worship him. That and, you felt good from him fucking your cunt. All wins in his book.

You shyly look towards him, rolling over to face him properly. A mixture of emotions begins to overwhelm you. You feel gratitude that he did this for you but, sadness seems to be stronger now. He only did this— He only made love with you because there was nothing else you could do in return for bills to be paid. What if you want more of him? Your bottom lip trembles and bring a hand up to wipe at your eyes. “Thank you, Master… For doing this. I know it— must be hard 'cause there was nothing else and I really appreciate that you’ll pay my bills so I won’t be homeless… And I’m even more thankful that you made my first time feel good.” Your voice is breathless, clearly, your throat is tired from all of the crying out for him.

His lips curl up into a knowing smirk, noticing the fear start to appear in your face once more. You want to rely on him. He leans up on his elbow, hand cupping the side of his face and he sighs, a little dramatically. “Yes, well. I’m always happy to help my sweet girl out. Don’t feel too guilty, you made me feel good. I really enjoyed myself, Y/N.” He says, free hand coming up to brush hair out of your eyes. He pretends to think deeply and you notice the frown appearing, eyes widening. “What? What is it? I’ll— I’ll do more if I have to? I want to. I don’t feel guilty, I really liked it.” You ramble out nervously, hand pressing against his toned chest. Deep down, you know it’s just you craving to touch him again. Satoru shakes his head, ignoring the way white strands of hair stick to his temples from sweat. His hand comes up to cup over yours, giving a loving squeeze.

“No, I just have an idea… Do you always want to worry about bills, Y/N? You’re always so stressed, I see it on your face all the time when you come to work. It concerns me. Every single day, your mind seems to be filled with your worries. Bills. Appointments. The potential threat of being homeless. Not being able to eat or time to wash clothes..” He trails off and you feel embarrassed that he seems to read your mind. It’s one of the main reasons you asked to wear shorts. Yet, why do you feel yourself starting to fill up with hope? What is this idea? “What is it, Master?” You whisper, leaning into him and eyes just showing are willing you are to be completely devoted to him. It’s a miracle his cock doesn’t start to harden for the third time. That would be pleasantly painful for him.

Quietly, Satoru laces his fingers with yours and brings them up to his lips, kissing your knuckles as his crystal blue eyes never leave yours. “Instead of being filled with worry, why don’t you live with your Master? Your God.” He emphasises, leaning in so his lips hover over yours. “I’ll take good care of you and not a single thing in that cute brain of yours will have to stress you out anymore. Just live day by day, happily by my side. Do whatever you want in your new home. You can continue to serve me, which I know you enjoy doing… In multiple ways, it seems.” He chuckles at his own implication and your heart starts to race.

Just the mere idea of living with him leaves you feeling ecstatic. It’s something you always wanted, really. You hated being so far away from him in the first place. You’d often think what if he needed you during the night? He cherishes you so much. Satoru has never been too strict with you. Always praising and spoiling you in his own ways. Wouldn’t that only grow if you lived with him? It excites you. Just the thought of always being around him. To be able to welcome him home from work properly. Besides, after making love with him… How could you not already crave more? Satoru waits patiently for your answer, pressing a tender kiss to the crook of your jaw. He already knows what you’ll say. He’s confident in that. Again, he selfishly thinks how you are meant for him, and he’s meant for you. You squeal softly, launching yourself at him and he manages to take hold of you, rolling together until he’s on his back and you’re on top of him, looking ever so pretty in his eyes; even with dried tears on your cute face and sweat coating your body.

“I want to live with you, Master.” You whisper, tears of happiness in your eyes. No more worries. Only comfort, peace, happiness and pleasure. Of course, the pleasure. Satoru smiles up at you, pleased with the success of his manipulation. All his for good. He remembers something. “Yeah? In that case, will you also wear cute maid outfits while you work?” He teases lightly, knowing you wouldn’t deny it. You nod eagerly, not bothered by how inappropriate that would be. You’re living with him as his ‘sweet maid’. Besides, maid outfits are cute; thoughts copying his from moments ago.

“Good girl. Now c’mere and give me a kiss.”

You oblige happily.

881 notes · View notes

prettyboykatsuki · 11 months

Text

WON'T YOU LEND ME YOUR FAITH? | R. ITOSHI

❁ tags ; fem!reader (reader dresses femininely + is referred to as a girl / with she/her pronouns), reader is shorter than rin , strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, getting together, rin is soo teenage boy (and makes some annoying teen-boy comments), slow-burn, making out is as suggestive as this gets, stereotypical shoujo romance, usage of honorifics, coming of age

❁ wc ; 21.4k (insane. most insane thing ive ever seen)

❁ a/n ; i'm genuinely appalled by the length of this fic. how did that happen. what in the world. this fic is truly just. every single shoujou manga trope crammed into one okay. my silly little self indulgent romance !!!!

also this fic is sfw + takes place in their third of hs so im not gonna say mdni that's silly. however if you're a minor please do not follow me i post heinous dark content and this fic is a fluke in the timeline dskffjkfd

❁ synopsis ; the love story of a sensitive, stoic soccer player and an eccentric wannabe journalist

or that time you confess to itoshi rin, knowing he'll reject you, and asking to befriend him in spite of it.

“I like you,”

A breeze of wind passes.

“What?”

You confess to Itoshi Rin at the start of the Spring semester. On the school rooftop with your head down. Bent at a near ninety degrees as you hold out what looks like a love letter.

For a minute, he can’t do anything more than stare. He’s received countless confessions in highschool. Half of which he rejected immediately, not even stopping to hear the full extent of their feelings. Why would he? The lukewarm ideas of first love had never been of interest. Even before his fight with Sae, Rin was always focused on his goals.

After his second year of high school was spent in Bluelock, Rin has only returned for his third. He promised his parents he’d graduate properly, and Bluelock was off-season until Ego could fully prepare for the next stages.

And a lot has changed since then. But some parts of him, namely his feelings towards the idea of conventional relationships, haven't changed at all.

It’s only been a little less than three weeks since school had started, and by now he’s received more confessions than he can really remember. All of which he’s rejected coldly, and blankly, because Itoshi Rin has never been in the business of coddling anyone. Most of those girls he’s never even met. Knows nothing about them because they’re first or second years he’d never even spoken to.

Rin, however, does know you. You’ve been in his class in all 3 years of his highschool, and he’s seen you around more than once. You’re in the newspaper club, which he remembers because you covered their winning match back when Rin was a first year. He wouldn’t call you friends, but you’ve spoken to each other enough that he can remember your name with a little effort.

He also remembers you being sort of annoying. You’re one of those loud and earnest types that he can’t stand.

A year ago, Rin would’ve denied knowing you at all. But now that things with Sae have cleared up just a little - he’s not inclined to take his anger out on you. He knows you. Not well, but enough.

And if his reputation precedes him at all, then you know Rin too. You know that he’s never once gone out with a single girl in his 3 years of highschool and that most of the guys in all three grades consider him an arrogant jerk. You know that he mostly plays soccer alone during breaks and that he only really hangs out with one person.

Which means you must know that he doesn’t harbor any feelings for you. And that he’s going to reject your confession without thinking twice about it.

In the first place, he was just curious if you were stupid enough to do it. If you really called him up here for a roof-top confession. The fact that you were is what’s stifling him. Your words are familiar. He’s heard them so many times. But it’s baffling. It’s ridiculous.

You lift your head to face him. You’re still smiling, though there’s something more there that he can’t understand. He doesn’t do well with people like you begin with. He finds himself backing away when you jog up closer towards him.

He’s taller than you, he notices. You pick your head up to look at him and smile, toothy and at ease. You hold the letter up again and shove it towards him, though you don’t seem like you’re expecting him to take it. He stares at you.

“I like you,” You repeat, smooth and bubbly. He frowns.

“I don’t like you.”

He has expectations for this part. Normally he receives a saddened look like a dog whose tail he stepped on or a fit of crying (sometimes genuine, sometimes with the intent of guilt.) Sometimes he gets an awkward smile trying to seem unbothered by the whole situation.

You don’t falter though. You don’t even flinch at the words, cold as ice and steely. It throws him off.

“I know,” You say back, prying the letter away from him. You turn the other way, walking towards the metal grates and for a minute Rin wonders if you’re going to do something drastic. You don’t though, instead sticking your the paper in the air “That’s why I have a proposal,”

He stares, absolutely dumbfounded. You turn again towards him.

“I want to get to know you. And keep confessing to you,” You say first, and Rin immediately goes to reject you until you put your hands up “And I want you to keep rejecting me.”

He’s baffled. Really.

“What?”

“So I can gradually lose my feelings for you. Nothing that different on your end, honestly..”

It sounds annoying. It really does. If it were anyone else, under any other circumstance he would scoff and tell them to deal with their own shitty feelings alone just like everyone else. But there’s no hidden intention there. Rin’s always been good at sniffing that out. Your words are pure as can be.

Frustratingly simple and twice as sincere, no matter how confusing the whole thing is.

“Why should I?”

“We can be friends,” You reply like it’s the best deal he could ask for. “Isn’t that enough? Not like you really have any right now.”

He scoffs bitterly albeit he can’t counter you.

“Friendship is lukewarm. I don’t care about any of that stuff,”

“Lukewarm? Really? Then..think of it like I’ll be your shield. You hate when people socialize with you right? I’ll help you deal with it.”

That doesn’t sound too bad actually. On top of that, he’s kind of curious what your deal is. He rolls his eyes at you, turning to face the other way.

“Do whatever you want. It’s not like it matters.”

His response makes you beam. He hears you shout from the otherside of the yard, followed by the sound of your footsteps noisily thudding against the concrete as you try to catch up with him. He walks faster than you just to spite you for earlier, but he hears your last words through a huff of breath.

“Jeez, you’re fast. I’ll see you at lunch, be prepared!”

Somehow, he feels like he’s crossed paths with something he shouldn’t’ve.

You keep up with your end of the deal with Rin to the best of your ability.

The upsides of your arrangement is that the usual annoyances Rin has to deal with have decreased significantly in the time you’ve been hanging around him. You’re very good at using your speech to sway conversations one way or the other without upsetting the other party.

Normally, Rin’s rejections for different things leave a bitter taste in the air. He’s never been good at mincing his words for anyone and while it doesn’t affect him - the strange stares and whispers he gets are a little annoying to deal with. People always take his disinterest personally. Rin has always hated that. He was probably a little gentler about the denial before but still.

While other people are too stupid to pay it any mind, you’re clever at turning the tides your way. You always manage to completely divert their questions without making them feel uncomfortable. Rin has tried, many times, to actually break down how you’re doing it. He doesn’t think he’d ever be able to replicate it, no matter how much he studies you.

He’s reluctant to admit it, but really, your presence has significantly lowered the number of obstacles in his daily life and made him overall, less irritable.

Instead of many annoying things, there’s only you. Which is tolerable in comparison.

You also expect him to uphold his end of the deal. For the most part, this has just meant you inserting yourself into his usual activities. It started out small enough, mostly just you sitting with him during lunch. It draws too much attention to eat in the classroom so you both fuck off to the roof.

(You often joke about how romantic it is, reminiscing on your rejected first love with as much melodrama as you can muster.

Rin never laughs about it to your face, but he admits it’s funny. Your stupidity is mildly amusing, at least )

There, you eat lunch together. Rin learns you make yourself colorful bentos from time to time- though some days are much less elaborate than others. You like to unwind that way, your designated and nightly me-time. You work part-time, and you take care of your neighbors kids by helping them every morning and night.

Rin doesn’t ask you for more, not willing to deliberately show interest.

But you notice his curiosity for better or for worse and explain that she, the woman next door, used to make you dinner back when your parents were too busy. You have an older brother who's nearly twelve years your senior so you were alone for most of your childhood. She had children late, but they feel like your little siblings. So you help them in the mornings and in the evenings when you have time.

Rin learns you, funnily enough, have a sense of obligation towards other people that he can’t fully comprehend. He forgot there were people like that. In an environment like Bluelock that is so dead set on fostering ego, it’s easy to forget something so simple.

You haven’t confessed to him again since that time. Not like he’s expecting it, but given your personality he wonders why. He thought it’d be more of a daily occurence, something like a bit you did. But you never do. Even when at times, it’s so heavy in the atmosphere even he can tell you want too.

Admittedly, Rin wonders a lot more about you than he cares to. He wonders why you spend so much time with him when you have plenty of other friends who seem to cherish you. He wonders why you care so much about the dying club you're in. He wonders if this, in some strange way, stems from some kind of obligation.

He wonders, sometimes, what about him you could even like. It’s probably something stupid. You’d probably think long and hard before going on to say that you like him because he’s handsome or cool. Something shallow and meaningless.

He tells himself that when he starts thinking about it again.

Rin gets roped into cleaning the classroom with you.

He’s used to being paired with other people. But he’s never had to do with you before, even in the years prior. Or maybe he did. He doesn’t recall much of his first year.

Still, now that it’s already mid-May, Rin has never been on cleaning duty with you. He’s conscious of the sound of your name these days. It’s not something he’s happy about.

It’s a simple affair. Just 15 or 20 minutes. Nothing to talk about. Not really.

But, today you’re alone with him. Alone in an empty classroom with light pouring through the windows and reflecting off of the wooden desks. You’re busying yourself with wiping down the chalkboard, humming quietly. Rin has the broom and dust pan, slowly working himself towards the front of the room.

It’s mostly quiet. Just your humming. The soft thud of a dust pan, a gentle brush of the bristle.

Rin feels a crick in his neck, half-way done with the task at hand. He stares at you, off in the front. In your own little world as you fix everything up diligently without turning your head to look up at him even once.

The nape of your neck is visible from the way you’re standing. There’s a chain there. Do you wear a necklace under your uniform? He can see the slope of your shoulders. The light reflects on you.

It stops him dead in his tracks. All he can hear is the quiet. The soft humming of your voice. The thud of the dust pan, the woosh of an eraser. The gentle bristle of a broom. The sound of his own heartbeat, a little louder than it was a minute ago.

He shakes his head. He goes back to sweeping.

“Why do you look like that?”

You look depressed. For Rin, this expression on you is unusual. You do look sad sometimes. Somber, occasionally but the look you have on your face right now is down right harrowing. You’re staring blankly out into the open, sitting in the usual spot the two of you have lunch at. But you’ve hardly touched your food and your favorite juicebox (a lunchtime staple) doesn’t have a straw in it yet.

It’s freaking him out, quite frankly. He stares at you, waving a hand in front of your face until you click back into reality. You jump in your skin at the sight of him before taking a deep breath once you’ve realized who’s in front of you.

“Oh. It’s just you. Sorry,” You say, immediately going for your juice. See? “What did you say?”

He sighs, sitting down next to you with his own lunch. Nothing special, something his mom likes to pack when he’s at home - though he doesn’t often take it. He opens up his own tin, taking chopsticks out attached from the top.

“I asked why you looked like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like someone just died.”

You look at him morbidly, clasping your hands and leaning forward with your elbows on your knees.

“My midterm grades,” You say solemnly, voice wavering ever so slightly “They’re detestable. A shame to my bloodline.”

Rin looks at you plainly.

“Aren’t you an idiot to begin with?”

“Hey! I’ll have you know I’m average. Super average. But I scored even lower than usual and I’m concerned. I need to do well on the next one and on my entrance exams.”

Oh, right. Rin forgot since he has no plans to take any.

“Do you know what you want to do for college?” He asks, mostly out of obligation.

“I want to study journalism.” There’s a wispiness to your way of speaking. It gives the air a sentimental feel. “There’s a private university with a good program I want to get into but they’re kind of tough. So I have to focus and do well,”

“What subject are you struggling with?”

You deflate all over again.

“Chemistry and Classical Japanese,”

Rin does well in both subjects. He thinks it over, and decides he can consider this payback. That’s all it is. He’s never liked owing people for favors and while you say this much is enough - Rin can rest assured about your little deal if he’s actually been of use to you in return. He remains impassive as he takes a sip of water.

“Do you want me to help you study?”

You turn to him immediately, suddenly full of life. He doesn’t like the gleam in your eyes, an immediate regret settling in as he stares at you, eyes full of disdain. You don’t hesitate grabbing his hand, putting it to your forehead and bowing deeply as you face him. You’re like a fly that keeps buzzing around him.

“Are you serious? Really? Forreal? Do you mean it?”

“If you keep being a dipshit I’m going to take it back,”

You pull away, hands folded in your lap, going stone faced.

“I would be very grateful,” You say, hands clasped in front of your face. He rolls his eyes.

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” He says bluntly, staring out into space “I just don’t want to owe you any favors.”

This you laugh at, leaning back on the wall behind you - with your legs stretched out.

“Don’t worry,” You reply, self-assured. “Somehow, you asking me to study with you so innocently really cements it in that you don’t have a shred of affection for me.”

Something in him stirs. He ignores it.

“Never in a million years.”

You laugh light-heartedly.

“You’re so cold to me, Itoshi-kun.”

“You still call me that.” He grimaces. You stare at him confused.

“How else would I call you?”

“When you use my last name it reminds me of my brother,”

“...Are you implying I should use your first name?”

Oh. Shit. That is what he sort of said, isn’t it?

“No,” He denies, somehow unable to come up with anything worthwhile “Don’t address me at all.”

“Eh? But that’s impossible? I can try but,”

Only an idiot like you would think to actually try. He shakes his head. It’s no good after all.

“Shut up,” He decides, because there’s not anything else he can think to say “We can study at the library.”

You’re quick to reject the proposal.

“We have to pick somewhere else. Like a cafe or something,” You say, not looking at him. You have your phone pulled up now, looking for places nearby. He’s lost again.

“What? Why? Isn’t it easier if it’s at school?”

You glance over at him wide-eyed, before suddenly smiling. It’s a knowing smile, almost like you feel sorry for him. He wants to ask why you look like that. It’s weirdly guarded and he hates that from you. He stares at you, trying to will you to explain yourself. You’re good at reading his thoughts, frustratingly enough, so he’s not accustomed to asking.

Which means your lack of answer is deliberate, and even with the pressure he’s putting on you, you don’t budge.

“Trust me on this one,” You voice light and airy. “It’s better if we find somewhere away from school, too. There’s still some time to look, so no rush.”

He lets it go because he doesn’t have any other choice. Lunch passes and you talk like everything's normal.

The question lingers in the back of his mind.

Rin spends most of his time between classes watching soccer. If he has some free time on his day off, he’ll look for a new movie to watch. There’s a new foreign film coming out from a director who he really likes and he’s just finished watching the trailer.

Thirsty, with nothing to do - he stands to his feet and briefly surveys the classroom. He wants a drink and there’s a vending machine down the hallway with a sports drink that tastes like..something.

His airpods are close to being dead so there’s no music as he makes his way. He’s not a fan of being forced to listen to the chatter of the general populace so it’s not that hard to ignore.

It catches his attention when he hears your name in passing before turning the corner of the hall. It stops him dead in his tracks, something tense left in the syllables after . He doesn’t know why he stopped, not exactly. He figured it’d be annoying if his presence caused a ruckus.

He’s used to people talking about you, though they usually describe you as a busybody. The Senpai who’s everywhere. A hand in every jar, or something like that. But there’s a tone to that, mild amusement - never malice, that Rin is more than accustomed to.

This is not that, he notices. He leans on the wall and listens. A group of girls. Some of the voices he recognizes. They’re from the third year classroom down the hall.

“It’s like, I don’t know,” Eto-san, he thinks. She’s come up to him before, more times than he can really count on one hand. Rin knows the type. Kind but not really. To the point it’s hard for anyone to call her out on it. “It’s weird how much she hangs around him. She’s not a bad girl or anything,”

The addition makes Rin’s eye twitch. Yeah. He’s very familiar with this type. He keeps listening. Another voice, but he has no idea who this one is.

“Really? But Senpai is pretty kind to me,”

“Mm, I guess so. I just wonder if it makes Itoshi-kun uncomfortable, you know? With pushy people like that, it doesn’t matter how blunt you are. I just worry about him a bit.”

If it wasn’t so annoying to listen in, Rin would laugh. He’s never understood girls. Especially not highschool ones. He doesn’t pay attention to that kind of social hierarchical shit to begin with, only forced to acknowledge it because other people do. None of it matters to him.

He does think back to what you said a week ago, about finding a place away from school to study. It clicks. You probably know they talk about you like this. Or you could surmise this outcome. Rin should expect that level of awareness from you. Sincere. Always attuned to everyone. Of course this is something you know but he doesn’t.

Why didn’t you tell him? That’s annoying. It’s nothing he couldn’t deal with knowing. He would’ve got it if you explained it earlier.

“Oh wow, you really care about him Eto-san,”

There’s a soft chuckle that makes Rin annoyed. Is he supposed to feel grateful? They’ve barely spoken to each other.

“It’s not like that. It must be hard since he missed second year, that’s all.”

With that, Rin decides to turn the corner.

He’s a little pleased at the reaction. How everyone goes into complete silence when he arrives. He spares her a glance as he moves towards the vending machines, clicking in the buttons. A generic sports drink comes tumbling out of the bottom, and Rin grabs it with deliberate slowness - drawing out the unease.

Eto-san gives him a blank stare before suddenly looking cheerful. She seems a little panicked, quickly trying to make conversation with him. The words don’t reach his ears as he stares down at her expressionlessly.

“Are you done?” He says, ice-cold. She stutters at that. Rin suppresses a smile.

“Oh, uhm, yeah. Sorry, were you busy?”

“Yeah,” He says back, completely apathetic.

He doesn’t plan on saying anymore in the first place. The little victories count.

It does feel like some kind of magic when he hears your voice from the other end of the hallway. You’re practically shouting it, and following is the sound of the hall monitors telling you off for running as you barrel toward him full speed. He can hear the thud of your sneakers all the way till they skid to a stop.

You’re out of breath, bent over your knees and messy as you put a hand up. Most times, he would be embarrassed. He’d even tell you off for being such an idiot. Right now, he finds the corners of his lips upturned as he stares at you from where you stand.

“Oh, hey guys. Sorry, I had some business with this guy. Oh, Fujita-chan, your hair is cute today! I like how it looks up on you,” You say, to the girl who was calling you kind just a minute ago “I hope he wasn’t too cruel to you. He’s actually afraid of women, it’s a generational curse. Every night he turns into a frog and—”

You shuffle in front him, arms stretched out like a shield. He sticks his leg out and kicks your shin. You yelp in pain.

“What the hell are you talking about? Shut up.”

“Ow, you strong bastard. You’re a soccer player, please be more conscious of your kicks. What if you shattered my shin? I know you’re loaded but it’s the principle of the thing, you know—”

“Stop talking or I’ll kick you a second time.”

You go silent immediately.

“Forgive me, Itoshi-sama. I’ve strayed from the path of righteousness. Alas, the people need you.” You say, turning around.

“Speak clearly.”

“Homeroom teacher wanted to double check with you about after graduation plans and told me to go get you.”

“Why you?”

“I was already walking around for the newspaper club.”

He nods, not needing any more explanation.

“H-hey, aren’t you acting too friendly with him?”

So she decided to speak. This makes you falter, just a little, and Rin detests the look of self-satisfaction on her face. He speaks this time. It’s not like he can’t fight any of his own battles.

“It’s fine,” He says, not bothering to think about it. He looks at you, as you stare back at him where he stands, wide-eyed. Idiot. “I don’t mind.”

You grin at him. Big and rounded and stupid, with all of your teeth like you’re giddy. If the hallway monitor wasn’t up your ass, he figures you’d be skipping about now. You usher him into the hall, back where he came from, waving them off.

“Be seeing you guys, then! Bye!”

And you’re off. It’s quiet until you’re both completely out of ear-shot. Before he can go any further you stand in front of him, hands behind your back with a dumb look on your face. He already knows what you’re going to say.

“Hey. I really like you a lot. Just now… my heart was fluttering. I thought I was hallucinating,”

“You’re a moron,”

“Ahhh, what should I do? I’m all hot under the collar. Is this what it’s like being a maiden in love? It’s great.”

“How can you say that knowing I’ve already rejected you?”

“It’s because you’ve rejected me, I can say that.”

And Rin doesn't really get it. He’s not sure he ever will.

But you seem happy enough. He decides against prying.

Somehow, you’ve ended up at Rin’s house.

He doesn’t know how it happened. Really.

He mentioned to his mother off-handedly that he needed to help someone study. He should’ve lied about it then, but coming off of running drills makes him pretty stupid. He uses most of his brain power when he trains. So in an altered state of mind due to dehydration, hunger and general exhaustion - he answered honestly instead of lying.

You’re helping someone study? Yes, they’re from my class.

Is it a boy or a girl? A girl. We’re friends.

You can’t study at the library? She doesn’t want to, so we’re trying to find somewhere else.

Why not invite her here, if her parents are okay with it? Her parent’s don’t really pay enough attention to be bothered.

Wait, what is he saying?

Rin doesn’t know how it happened. Really. Really. He tried pretty hard to reject his mothers advances about the situation but he’s never been one to upset her. The whole thing with Sae really tore her up so they both had a silent agreement to try and get along at home. And since Rin is still living at home for now, he tries harder to listen to her. Even so, he wasn’t planning on yielding for this one.

Rin is not immune to his mothers guilt. A long lecture about how her only sons never cared about anything but soccer and how she’s worried she’s never going to have grandchildren later, he finally gave in and gave you a call at his dinner table.

He was hoping you would come through and reject the offer. Say something stupid about how that’s dangerous territory for a young girl in love and let his mom down gently. He forgot about your whole thing about responsibility and being a nice girl who gets along well with adults.

And now, the door is ringing and Rin knows he’s going to open it to you. He mostly blames himself for not thinking ahead.

Rin opens the door on a Saturday afternoon and the first thing he thinks is that you’re not wearing your uniform.

You look…different. It’s weird. Your hair is styled in an unusual way, tied with something like ribbon. You’re wearing something flowy and loose but the neck is a little rounder than usual. There’s a necklace there, a heart-pendant with a chain. You have in...earrings.

Rin thinks vaguely that you look…something. He doesn’t know. But in his vision you’re like a troublesome and amorphous blob that yammers on about nothing. And right now you look…not like that.

“You’re dressed up.” Are the first words to come out of his mouth. You blink at him owlishly.

“Oh. Yeah. I wanted to make a good impression on your mom so I tried not to look sloppy.” You say sheepishly. He leans against the doorframe.

“She doesn’t care about stuff like that.”

“Well I do, okay? Now, can I come in?”

“The white slippers are for you.”

He steps aside and lets you in. You have perfect manners. He probably should’ve expected that. You take your shoes off neatly and place them on the rack the same way, slipping your feet into the slippers provided. Rin just watches, eyes tracing the curve of your neck.

“Where’s your mom?” You ask.

“In the kitchen making dinner. You’re staying for dinner right?”

You blink at him, surprised.

“I mean it’s not like I can’t.”

“She’d be upset if you didn’t.” He says noncommittally before walking you down to the kitchen.

His mother is right where he expects. He stands in the corner as you shuffle in watching on. She turns around to look at you, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Oh, my, you must be Rin’s friend? Such a lovely girl. Welcome! Welcome.”

To this, you bow your head as deep as it can go. The air around you feels serious. Rin scoffs internally. There’s a strange feeling in his chest that he can’t describe, seeing you bowing in front of his mom. An itch he can’t reach, locked tight around his ribs.

You give his mother your name first and she smiles like she’s absolutely delighted just hearing it.

“Thank you for having me. I brought some fruit with me as a gift, I hope that’s alright.”

His mom shoots him a look that Rin deflects by turning away, opening the plastic bag you’ve handed to her.

“Oh my! Aren’t these expensive fruits? Please thank your parents for me!”

“Oh no, don’t worry about that. I work part-time, so I paid for them myself. It was the least I could do. I’m grateful for the tutoring.”

You tense up, realizing that might’ve been an awkward thing to say. It isn’t. Even if it was, Rin’s mother has always been soft-hearted. His dad tells him they’re a lot alike but Rin doesn’t see it. Whatever it may be, Rin’s mom is too doting and too sociable to let you feel bad. Right now she seems emotional, an expression between empathy and pride. She reaches for you like it’s the most natural thing in the world, patting your head gently.

“How diligent. Thank you, then, for the fruit.”

Rin can’t see your face but it’s easy to picture.

“Of course. And pardon the intrusion! And uhm, thank you for having me for dinner.”

Clumsy. Rin thinks you’re clumsy. A flickering light. His mom laughs brightly and tells you not to worry. She leans in closer like she’s whispering but Rin can hear her loud and clear.

“Rin can be very brash but he’s a good boy, so thank you for being kind to him.”

He feels embarrassed. Even readies himself to intervene.

“He is very kind to me.”

Wait. What?

His mom smiles even brighter, and mouths something like ‘take care of her’ when you’re not looking. He wants to stop it before it starts. You’re not dating. You’re hardly even friends, you’re just here to study. Rin almost wants to shout it, but he’s stuck. Before he can do any of that, you’re turning around and smiling like you haven’t said anything strange.

What do you mean he’s kind to you? When his whole thing is rejecting you mercilessly? Being cruel?

What kind of person would ever describe him as kind?

He can’t find the words he wants to say, so he takes you to his room in silence.

You both make it to Rin’s room in one piece.

You’ve been studying now for about an hour. Given your personality, Rin was expecting more of a fuss. He thought you’d make some comment about being in a boys room and then fight off the actual studying like the plague.

Much to his surprise, you started studying with him right away. Rin tries his best to tutor you, though he does make fun of you in the process. But you’re a try-hard all the same, stopping only to ask questions and get clarification occasionally.

You’ve been focused that whole time, miraculously enough. Rin studies too, but only a bit, after deciding to study some recent matches instead.

( Every now and again, he’ll glance at you. Just to see if you’re stuck or still working. Each time, he gets caught up on the fact you’re not in your uniform and has to tear his eyes away. )

After a bout of silence, you yawn out loud, quietly shutting your workbook.

“I’ve finished all my practice problems for today,” You announce, before deciding to lay down on his floor “I’m beat.”

“I thought you were gonna give up before you started.” Rin admits. You frown at him.

“I was serious about needing tutoring. Thanks for all your help.”

“I already told you it’s fine. Is there anything else? Finals are next week.”

You shake your head.

“Mm, I don’t think so. One of the guys from the newspaper club helped me with math so I’ll be okay.”

…Huh?

“From the newspaper club?”

“Huh? Yeah. Murata-senpai. We’re in the same year. He’s a few months older so he insists on making me call him Senpai.”

“And he helped you with math?”

“Yeah. He was a delinquent like, all of first year but he really cleaned up his act. He’s actually really gentle.”

Rin frowns at that.

“Do people usually describe delinquents as gentle?”

You make a noise of indignance from where you’re laid on his floor.

“Hey. Murata-senpai is really nice, okay? And he is gentle, so I won’t tolerate your usual judginess.”

Rin rolls his eyes.

“How’d you even meet him?”

“Uh…I wanted to write a column about him, basically. He was helping in the garden last year and I kinda…stalked him. It sounds worse than it is. I just wanted to know what made him change.”

“So stalking people is pretty typical for you.”

You sit up and gape at him. Rin suppresses a laugh.

“Anyways. I eventually flagged him down for an interview. Apparently, he had a real scare with his granny getting sick and decided he needed to cut the shit. He’s a good guy. He joined the newspaper club after the interview,”

“After the interview…?”

You nod, leaning forward with your elbows on the table in front of you.

“Uh-huh. Said he was interested because of my passion or something. He’s been really nice to me ever since and helps me with all of the ideas I have.” You soften as you talk about it. Rin feels an ugly emotion in his chest “I’m worried about what will happen to the club after graduation, but Senpai is always encouraging me to make the most out of the time we still have. So I’m really thankful for him. That’s why you have to be nice.”

Rin is super annoyed. He doesn’t know why he’s so annoyed but he is. How do you not realize this guy likes you? He doesn’t know why he’s opening his mouth to tell you what’s so obvious. It’s not like it really matters. Rin doesn’t like you in the first place, so if he informs you that your beloved Murata-senpai has feelings for you - it’s no big deal.

In fact it might be better for everyone if you realize. He’s just frustrated by how clueless you can be sometimes.

“He’s interested in you,” Rin says, against his better judgment. It feels like the words are welling up in his throat “Your senpai or whatever.”

You blink at him stupidly. He wonders if you’re wearing mascara.

“Huh? I doubt that somehow. Senpai is kind to me but I think he sees me like a little sister.”

He scoffs at you.

“You would think that. Most guys aren’t just nice to girls they don’t like.”

“Not everyone is like you, yanno.” You say back without thinking twice. That’s not the point this time, he wants to say. And he’s right for this one. Anyone else with half of a brain would realize. You’re just… you. Which means you’re absolutely unaware of things pertaining to you. It’s the only reason he can think you’d deny something so obvious.

The only reason you could come to the house of a boy you liked just to study.

“Shut up. I’m saying this because you’re too much of a dumbass to put it together on your own. The guy definitely likes you.”

“I didn’t know you were a love guru,” You say sarcastically, sticking your tongue out at him. Childish. Annoying “It doesn’t matter if he does.”

“Why wouldn’t it matter?”

You give him an incredulous look.

“Unfortunately my heart is captured by an aloof sportsman.”

He doesn’t know why he feels relieved when you say that. He feels his heart all the way in his throat like he’s going to throw it up, even though his expression remains impassive.

“You already know I don’t like you, though. It’s a good opportunity, isn’t it? Don’t a lot of people move on that way.”

You shake your head.

“I’m not that sort of wishy-washy woman.” You reply, huffing your chest up and trying to ease the tension. You stop to shake your head, a small smile on your face. “You wouldn’t get it even if I explained.”

“It’s annoying when you do that,” Rin voices, not bothering to cut it any other way “You did that with the girls at school too. I’m never gonna get it if you don’t bother explaining it to me.”

You soften at this, then whisper.

“...Why do you care?” But it’s not said with any malice. It’s not said sadly either. Just curious. He freezes, but doesn’t let it show. He wants to ask himself the same question.

“I don’t. It’s just,” And he scoffs, not looking at your face “It’s a pain.”

You hum, not expecting more of an answer.

“I want to treasure my own feelings towards you,” You say, and something in Rin feels like it’s being set on fire. “It’s not just about having a boyfriend. If it was, then I’d consider Senpai's feelings.”

“...So it’s about me, specifically?”

“Yeah,” You say without offering any more explanation than that “It is. I like you.”

The words but why, linger in the air. You seem to be feeling merciful, as you lean back on your palms and stare up at his ceiling. You wear your heart outside of your body, more often than not. And he thinks that part of you is so hard to get used to.

“You’re really awkward. And aloof. And you don’t have any friends.”

“Is this some kind of revenge or…?”

“But. You’re also sensitive. The more I know you, the more I think you’re kind and well-meaning. You uh, remind me of a cat.”

He blinks.

“A cat?”

“A cat. Sometimes they want their own space. And sometimes they knock your water off your desk for fun. Plus they only really care about people in their own circle,”

“Again, is this—”

“Let me finish, jeez. They’re solitary creatures. But like when they accept you, they get comfortable. An’ nice . And they look out for you in their own way. To me you’re a lot like that.”

You give him a smile so warm it makes his back hot. So loud and so vibrant like it burst out of him at any minute.

“I’ve uh, always been interested in you. I watched you play in Bluelock too. I kept thinking to myself, there’s something about you. I want to know more, even if it’s just a little. Stuff like that.” You talk so quietly yet it’s all Rin can hear. All Rin can see in his vision is you. All Rin can think about is you. “I’ve always been interested in other peoples stories. So I thought, what a waste it would be, to throw away that feeling because of something like love or like. I thought, ‘What's your story, Itoshi Rin?’”

Rin doesn’t know what to say so he chooses to say nothing.

“When I confessed, I knew you would never like me. Because that’s just the sort of person everyone says you are. Still, what a waste, right? You miss all the shots you don’t take or whatever. So, I wanted to get to know you. I guess.”

“I don’t get it. I get what you’re like but it still doesn’t make any sense. There’s nothing special to know, is there?”

“Feeling that is special, don’t you think? That’s a special reason to me.”

He doesn’t follow. You laugh lightly.

“If I never became interested in Murata-senpai’s story, I would’ve never been his friend. If I gave up on trying to know you, just because you didn’t return to my one-sided feelings, then I would’ve never gotten to know you either. Don’t you think that’s a waste?”

Rin doesn’t know. He’s never really cared about it. He’s rejected so many confessions and never once thought enough about any of them in any depth. That part of you is foreign. He can chalk it up to a difference in character. He can’t understand wanting to know someone just because.

(Or maybe he can. He just hasn’t until now. Until this very moment, suspended in time. Where he wants to know what things make you the way you are.)

Some small, dark part of him wants to ask why. Over and over until his throat feels raw - long enough to understand it. Even as he grips onto that desire so tight, with such bruising force, the words sit in his mouth. They taste like iron. They taste like a bitten tongue. If you’ve watched him all this time, then you know. Being chosen. He’s never been confident in that. Rin wants to ask, why him?

What’s so special? Enough to keep talking to him? Enough to do any of this? Is getting to know people is always this difficult, he wonders. Does it always feel uncomfortable to be in proximity with someone?

In the end, he can’t bring himself to ask. He can’t even bear to examine it in himself, the sense of dread washing over him like sickness. He’s nauseous. And this time, there’s a residue of tension he’s finding increasingly difficult to ignore.

You come through again. He wonders if you can read his mind just like you do with all the nobodies at school.

“Rin-kun,” You say, your voice like the summer heat. “Getting to know you makes me feel like my feelings aren’t a waste. I’m happy getting to know you. I want to treasure that.”

What happens when you run out of things to know? The question is too heavy. He settles on a different one. He wants to understand it more. Just to put himself at ease.

“Isn’t being in the same room with someone who rejected you uncomfortable?”

“Maybe. But there’s a clear line for me and you, so it’s cool. In like, ten years, maybe someone will interview me about you. As your classmate and stuff. And I’ll go - ‘He’s actually a really nice guy. I actually had a crush on him.’ If I can say that, without being regretful, then that’ll be enough for me.”

“That’ll be enough for you? Really?”

“Really.”

“You’re so weird.” He says, unsure of what else he could possibly say. You giggle, and lay back down on his floor.

“I knew you’d say that.”

Summer comes.

It doesn’t occur to Rin how often he sees you in school until it all comes to a halt. He has your number, and you text him often - about unimportant and trivial shit that you think of. In that way, it doesn’t even really feel like you’ve separated.

But the sudden absence of your chattering in his life makes everything feel especially quiet. Summer is a boring time for Rin. It’s mostly the same. Practicing and playing and studying. On the few occasions he’s been out, it’s because some of the other Bluelock members are gathering and refuse to let him know even a breath of peace.

He’s seen Sae now, though they never really talk about anything. Sort of just look at each other and exchange enough words that their mom doesn’t cry before going back to their room. Sae will be gone before school starts back up again, so Rin isn’t all that worried about it.

It occurs to Rin for the first time that this summer will be the last of his highschool days. He’s never been sentimental about stuff like that - so he figures you’re to blame for these sudden thoughts.

Your summer has been a lot busier than his. He should probably expect this from you by now, but your surprisingly youthful social life always shocks him. You’ve been working part-time as usual. In that time though, you’ve also been to the beach and been on an overnight trip to Osaka with your newspaper club.

(Rin wasn’t happy to hear about this. He was relieved to know it was with a teacher and that you roomed with a girl. But still, not exactly his favorite of anecdotes for the summer.)

You’ve invited Rin more than once to come hang out with you, but he’s basically always declined. The group setting is troublesome, but being alone with you feels even worse somehow. It wouldn’t be a date, obviously, but it would be something. Something deliberate.

Rin doesn’t know if he can come see you in good faith for such a reason.

It’s another day spent doing his usual. Being technical, it’s a rest day, which means he’s only allowed to stretch. He has done his basics. Studied, messed around with his ball, responded to a barrage of texts from Bachira and Isagi. He played games for a while, checking out a new horror game before deciding it’d be best not to get too sucked in so he has something to play next time.

After all that, during a mid-August day while Rin sits on his couch and watches T.V., he receives a facetime call from you for the very first time. At first, he just lets it ring. But when it keeps ringing - he figures your persistence is going to continue unless he replies.

He looks around. No one's home, so he doesn’t need to go to his room. He swipes, and the call connects. The screen shows him, propped up against something with a full shot of your room. You’re turned away from the camera. Rin just stares.

“Oh, shit - did you actually pick up?”

“Should I hang up.”

“No! No, I just wasn’t expecting you. Don’t hang up. I need a guy's opinion.”

“What? What for?”

“I got in a fight with my brother about a dress I bought,” You say, exasperated, and Rin is surprised because you hardly see him. “I know he’s probably looking out for me but I don’t think we talk enough for him to be telling me how to dress.”

“He’s older than you, right? Maybe you should listen to him.”

“You’re the last person I want to hear that from. Either way, I’m not a kid. I’m already 18 and I’m going to college. It’s a cute dress! I feel like it’s fine.”

“So..why’d you call me again?”

“I’m gonna try it on and show you. Murata-senpai is busy.”

“You shouldn’t do that to a guy who likes you.” Rin deadpans. You laugh.

“Shut up. I really need an opinion. I wanted to wear it to go out today so if it’s actually too provocative then I have to change my outfit.”

“Where are you even going?”

“My friend needs to get a concealer, so probably the mall or something. After that I’ll go buy some stationary.”

“Alone? What about your friend?”

“She’s gonna go see her boyfriend.”

“Why can’t you just go with them? Or ask them to go with you”

“And third wheel? I’m good. I just need some stationary and then I’ll be home. Easy peasy. Anyway, what’s with the interrogation?”

“It’s not interrogation.” He insists. You’re offscreen so Rin can’t see you, but he can hear the sound of a zipper echo in the speakers. He’s also sure you’re rolling your eyes.

When you come on camera, the dress of the hour is on display. Rin’s first thought is to tell you to take it off. It is too provocative to him. The front is fine as is, but it’s nearly backless and it’s cut too high on your thighs. He’s never seen so much of your skin. Maybe that’s a given, since he didn’t go to the beach with you either.

You give him a quick spin, before patting the front down. You say something, but the words don’t register. It feels like his brain is full of cotton or something.

“So? Too much? I mean it’s backless but like. I don’t know, it’s kind of loose? And the sleeves are long. Neckline isn’t that bad, either.”

Rin just says what he thinks “You shouldn’t go out alone wearing it.”

You frown at him.

“That’s not helpful, Rin-kun.”

“It’s…fine. What time does your friend have to go?”

“Probably right after we’re done.”

He sighs.

“Tell her to go with her boyfriend early. I’ll come with you to get your stationary.”

“Wait, what? Did I hear that right? You’re coming to get me? After I’ve been hounding you to hang out? What’s with the change of heart?”

“I don’t have anything to do since it’s a rest day. You need stuff and I don’t think you should be out alone. Don’t read into it.”

“Kinda hard not too but I’m not gonna complain. Are you coming right now?”

“Yeah. Send me your address.”

Rin has no idea what impulse has brought him here.

That’s not entirely true. What brought him to your apartment towards the end of summer is impulse. He acted on nothing but impulse.

Rin, for better or for worse, finds that you’re clueless about yourself. The fact you were going to call Murata-senpai is already bothering him enough. That, along with the fact you wore the dress and didn’t think it was too short is troubling. It’s not that Rin wants to tell you what not to wear. He doesn’t have the right but you did ask.

Anyway, it’s a lot less agitating if you’re being accompanied while wearing it. Going alone in something like that, even if it’s the middle of summer, would be stupid.

Rin doesn’t make it a habit of worrying about the outfits of girls he doesn’t know. He does know you though. He thinks you’d be really annoying if something happened and you got upset about it. So, all he’s doing is preventing that outcome. It’s nothing more than that.

He knocks on your door as he shakes the thoughts out of his head, and he’s greeted by a man in his late twenties. It dawns on Rin that this is your brother. He really didn’t think this through.

Your brother is an imposing person. He’s a head taller than Rin with a gruff voice and a scar on his cheek. Rin stares at him blankly.

“Who are you?”

“Itoshi Rin. I’m here for—”

“Nii-san, tell Rin-kun to come inside and sit! I’m not done getting ready.”

Your brother glares at him.

“Who’s he? Your boyfriend? Is that why—”

You come stumbling out of your room, half-dressed and Rin immediately averts his eyes. This is the most uncomfortable experience of his life.

“He’s not my boyfriend. He already rejected me, so we’re just friends. Stop fussing and let him in, it’s hot out.”

“He rejected you?”

Rin should just leave.

“I already knew he was going to. Now move,”

Rin doesn’t enjoy being involved in your sibling quarrel. Suddenly, he feels a twinge of regret about some old Bluelock memories. He understands it now more than ever, gaining a little empathy.

Your brother moves out of the way. You’re standing in the hall, with a single stocking on and powder on your face he’s pretty sure is meant to be brushed. You grin at him.

“Sorry! I won’t be long, promise. You got here faster than I thought you would.”

Rin can feel a pair of eyes in the back of his skull.

“Uh. Yeah. I took the bus so it was quick.”

“It might be uncomfortable here. Do you wanna sit in my room instead? It’s colder but it’s kind of a mess—”

“He can sit here.” Your brother insists. Rin is never leaving his house again. You frown.

“Didn’t I already tell you we’re not dating? He’s not even interested in me, it’s not like anything is gonna happen.”

“It’s the principle of it.” Yeah. Definitely siblings.

“Whatever. If you make him uncomfortable, I’m gonna yell at you. Rin-kun, sorry. Do you need anything? Juice? Water?”

Your hospitality throws him off. You’re different at home.

“Uh. No. I’m okay.”

“Okay, then I’ll hurry and get dressed. Nii-san, please be civil.”

With that, you flounce back up to your room. Your brother is staring hard in Rin’s direction. He’s not intimidated. It’s just… so awkward it’s kind of unbearable for him. What do people usually do in this situation? Rin’s not exactly the sociable type.

“She confessed to you?”

Rin is startled.

“Uh. Yeah. In April.”

“And you’re friends?”

“She asked to be friends.”

Your brother looks distressed.

“I don’t understand that girl at all.”

Rin doesn't either.

“What’s she like in school?”

Rin stares. Oh. He’s that kind of older brother.

“Uh. Busy. She’s in the newspaper club so she’s always doing something. She has a lot of friends and gets along with our class.”

“I see…that’s good. I’m always worried about her. Our family has always been busy and I moved out when I was 18 so… we don’t see much of each other. She doesn’t talk about herself that much either.”

Rin nods absently. What circle of hell is this?

“She probably thinks I’m just being overprotective,” Bullseye “But I just worry she grew up too fast.”

Rin thinks if he were a different kind of guy, now would be the time he gives your older brother an encouraging heart to heart. The script is there. It’s just not how he honestly feels. Rin doesn’t take pleasure in defending you. But it’s hypocritical and a little ridiculous to hear it from him.

Some of it is leftover resentment from Sae. The rest is knowing you.

You did grow up too fast. From what he knows about teenage girls, they’re supposed to be…meaner. More hysterical. More inconsiderate. Less responsible and more in the moment. Messy. All teenagers are, really.

For all the ways you are clumsy and ridiculous, sometimes Rin thinks you’re too off-puttingly mature. It wouldn’t kill you to be more selfish. To be just a little less self-reliant. It’s not normal is it? To be so grateful for things you’re owed. It bothers him. Always has.

Rin knows what the script is. But it bothers him.

“If you know that then you don’t really have any right to intervene,” Rin says bluntly. “Suddenly acting protective and considerate when she grew up on her own is just going to feel stifling. Aren’t you just trying to make yourself feel better?”

He looks surprised by his answer. Hurt too.

“I guess that’s right,”

He frowns.

“If you actually care, just be honest. She’s not the type of person to turn someone away on a grudge.”

Before Rin can feel embarrassed about what he’s said, you come stumbling down the steps all dressed up. Your brother gives you a look.

“Do you need any money?”

You look at him confused then shake your head no.

“Okay. Stay safe and have fun.”

He turns to leave. You watch him go. Rin puts his hands in his pockets like he’s trying to wipe himself of it.

“Weird… anyways. Ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

Your outing goes well.

Outing. Not a date. No matter how many times people mistake you two for being on a date today - it was nothing more than an outing.

You start with stationary for the upcoming term, then you drag Rin to the mall because you need some more clothes. After that, you go into a bookstore to pick up some manga. Rin has fun there because he gets to pick out some new releases and you bond mutually over your tastes. Rin learns both like thrillers. You spend a lot of time together, reading over his shoulder.

It’s not a date. But it wasn’t bad. He’s so used to talking to you that the entire situation doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all. You’re funnier than he’s usually willing to give you credit for. Doing all that, plus train rides, makes it so you’re not home until sundown. You, however, refuse to end the night without having some kind of treat. After a lot of begging Rin to cheat on his meal plan, the two of you get ice-cream and you drag Rin to a local playground. Apparently you bring your neighbors' kids here sometimes.

Now he’s here. Sitting on swings with ice-cream and it is still not a date. Rin has no opinions on the day but you’re practically bursting at the seams with happiness. The dress you’re wearing is hiking up on your thigh from how you’re sitting. He was right to accompany you, by the way. The amount of creeps he’s had to stare down today alone is outright disgusting.

Rin takes a spoonful of ice-cream and lets it melt in his mouth. You let your feet hit the mulch beneath you as you lick the ice-cream carefully - trying desperately not to let it spill on your hand. He watches on in amusement. After you finally get a handle on it, you give him a small look.

“I had fun today,” You say sentimentally. Rin feels his stomach tie in knots “Thank you.”

He frowns.

“Gross. Stop that.”

“Aw, c’mon. You’re so edgy. Just admit you had fun! You had a fantastic and whimsical time.”

He gives you an unimpressed stare.

“Really? Nothing? You’re not feeling the flames of youthful joy in your loins at all?”

“Describing it like that is disgusting.”

“So you admit you know what it is.”

Rin wants to smile. Fuck, he hates you.

“...It wasn’t bad.”

You grin. You’re so annoying.

“Ladies and gents, we got an ‘it wasn’t bad’ from the ever soulless Itoshi Rin!”

Stupid. So stupid.

“It was more tolerable than hanging out with some of my other dipshit friends.”

You clasp a hand over your mouth dramatically.

“Oh…Oh wow… Do you want to try proposing next? The set-up is there. Perfect ambience.”

His face cracks into a begrudging smile.

“You’re insufferable.”

You suddenly go quiet. When Rin looks at you, you’re stunned

“Why’re you being weird?”

“No, sorry, I was just thinking I really like you,” You say, like it’s the easiest and most natural thing in the world “I’ve never seen you smile before. It’s nice.”

“...Your ability to say cringy shit like that so easily is astounding to me.”

“I don’t want to hear this from the guy who unironically uses lukewarm,” You say, biting into your ice-cream cone. Rin blushes. “Besides, nothing wrong with being cringe when you’re in love.”

“Freak.”

You give him a thumbs up.

“One of a kind.”

There’s a beat of silence. It’s comfortable. Rin eats his too, probably a little slower than he has to. Summer feels heavy in the air.

“You weren’t always like..an edgelord, right?”

Rin stares at you, perplexed by how sudden the question is.

“Where’d you hear that from?”

“Your mom after dinner. You already went upstairs. Said you had a nasty fight with your brother.”

He doesn’t say anything, posture stiffening at the mention of Sae.

“It’s not your business.”

“Hey. No need for the attitude. I’m curious as your number one fan.” You say, trying to back off as much as possible. Like he’s some kind of feral cat you’re trying to calm. “Don’t be mad, okay? You don’t have to talk about it.”

You try your best to be soothing and Rin softens

He is angry. Not at you. Not really. The mention of Sae just does that to him. And if anyone else even thought to bring it up - he’d probably tell them to go fuck themselves with nothing but bitter hatred.

With you, there’s not any of that. There’s a lingering sense of hesitance - an internal conflict, but not anger. Rin’s never enjoyed opening his heart to anyone.

Even so, he feels compelled to tell you, so he does.

“My brothers a dick,” Resentment seeps into his words “He came back from overseas and then basically insulted me for a minute straight. We were always meant to play soccer together but he went through something. He changed. We never talked about it,”

“What? He insulted you for no reason? That’s so weird. Did you always have a bad relationship?”

Rin sits with himself quietly.

“I don’t know if we have one now. We were close as kids. At least.”

“And he just… came back and started being an asshole to you? Seriously?”

Rin nods. There’s not much else to the story. Rin’s tried hard not to think about the situation itself. He only uses the feelings that stayed behind to make him better. To give him a reason to play - it’s motivation and nothing more. If he starts to view it too much like what it is, betrayal, he’s afraid everything inside of him will collapse.

“There’s probably more to it than that,” You conclude thoughtfully. Rin thinks the same “But still. You’re his baby brother. Even if he’s going through something…”

Rin scoffs “You sound like you’re worried about him.” It comes out more petulantly than he expects

“Not really. Not as much as I’m worried about you,” You counter, giving him a small smile. Rin feels his heart leap into his throat “I just figure, you know, maybe thinking about it like that would help. You were close right? Your mom said he used to dote on you,”

Rin nods. He feels his chest swell and tighten.

“Then…I bet it sucked. I bet it was hard. Or at least, it must’ve been lonely to go through that,” You say, frown deepening “Such a sudden change would be hard for anyone to deal with, I think. It’s okay if you feel like it’s unfair. His reasons aside.”

You sigh, suddenly, covering your hands with your face.

“What?” Rin asks. You shake your head.

“You poor thing. I wanna hug you to death you know. A good squeeze. I’m trying to refrain.” You say, stomping your feet just slightly. He feels a flush crawl up his neck, turning his head to look away.

“...It’s not like I’m stopping you.”

He doesn’t have the courage to look at you. Not as he says it, or after to steal a glance of what face you're making. Instead, he hears the metal of the chain and feels the warmth of your body. It’s a tight hug. You’re standing and he’s sitting, your arms around his neck, his face directly against your chest. He widens his eyes. He wants to yell at you for being a defenseless idiot, but the feeling of being hugged so tightly washes the words away. You’re soft…and warm. He’s never been hugged by someone who isn’t his mom or brother before, and he can’t remember the last time either thing happened to him. You pat his head.

Do you touch people like this often? So casually? Or is he special because you like him, he wants to ask. He wants to ask but doesn’t want to know the answer, pushing the feeling down as deep as he can make it go. He wraps his arms around you loosely, above your waist trying to be respectful.

But he leans into the warmth. Like it’s something that happens once in a lifetime.

“Hey, Rin.” You say, soft. He can feel the warmth of your breath against his hair.

“Hn.”

“I hope you kick your brother's ass in soccer.”

You sound teary. Weirdly, it makes Rin feel better.

“Yeah.”

School starts up again during September.

The autumn season welcomes warm colors, fallen leaves and the sort of cool weather that puts the summer uniforms back up on the hangers. Rin is listening to music when he spots you waiting for him at the gate, waving your hand at him. He has half a mind to ignore you, you’re so embarrassing.

But before he can pretend not to see, you’re jogging over to him. He has to stand so you don’t end up bumping into him. You walk like you were born backwards, two left feet with such little awareness of your surroundings it stresses Rin out.

He gives you a blank stare as you smile, securing your bag to your shoulder.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” You say warmly. Rin pauses to look at you. You look different somehow. Lately you always do, Rin wonders if you’ve picked up some weird shape-shifting in your time apart “Are you excited for the new semester, hm? Hmm?”

He keeps walking and you fall in step with him. You try but he’s too fast, so he slows just a little. He clicks his teeth, shaking his head, eyes taking in the view of the building in front him.

“Why would I be excited?”

You shrug.

“Because winter break is close? Because there’s fun leaves outside? Because it’s your birthday in 6 days?”

He stops dead in his tracks.

“What the hell? Why do you know that?”

“Your mom told me.” You say, skipping along happily to school like you didn’t just say something insane. His frown deepens.

“You have my moms number? You talk to my mom?”

“She loves me,” You say casually, turning only to look at him and stick your tongue out “And she’s nice. Get over it.”

With this, you rush into the building faster, giggling as you leave. Rin, frustrated, stomps after you.

Your time together at lunch continues into fall. It’s the third day of the term, September 6th and you’re sitting by his side. The two of you eat in casual silence now, falling into a regular routine. There’s something about the whole ordeal that makes Rin feel a little funny.

Friendship, as it stands, is still a lukewarm idea to him. But sprawled out next to you in a comfortable quiet isn’t the worst thing. The weather is cool enough to be nice and the daylight lasts for just the right amount of time to see sunset when he treks back home from practicing shooting into the net.

That kind of sentimental viewing of his surroundings is a bad habit he’s picked up from you. He can’t seem to shake it off. He’s tried at least, but Rin has been stopping to look at everything nowadays. The sun, the trees, the cars passing. Everything passes right by his life, slowly.

Eventually, eventually this whole thing will cease. You’ll never see Rin again and he’ll never see you - and you’ll part your separate ways. Thinking about that feels so stifling. But he figures since that’s the case, there’s probably not any harm in letting the time pass like this. As long as he’s still improving.

Your voice doesn’t catch him off-guard anymore, no matter how loud it is after a long bout of silence. You stuff something into your mouth, a tomato he thinks.

“Rin-kun,” You start, tilting your head to one-side “Are you doing anything for your birthday?”

“No.” He answers immediately because he never does. He hasn’t done much since Sae left home and now that he’s a third year and about to be 18, there’s even less of a desire to pull together a party and celebrate.

“What? Boo. That’s so lame.”

“Don’t be so childish.”

“I’m older than you, you dummy,” You say with such automation that Rin doesn’t even get the chance to process “You’re not even gonna have cake? Nothing?”

“My mom might but I don’t have any plans.”

“Your mom is so nice.”

“Stop.”

You frown at him but don’t say any more. You look like you have something on your mind. Probably something stupid, but Rin can’t help but wonder what’s making your brow crease so intensely.

“What?” He snips. You flick your eyes to him and shake your head.

“I just think it’s a waste,” You say simply, that tone of fondness seeping into it that Rin can’t get used to. “It’s such a big number, you know? A little cake and some show tunes or something would suffice.”

Rin scoffs.

“I don’t care about it. It’s pointless to me. Lukewarm” He says, before noticing your genuine sadness. He sighs a little to himself “Stop looking like a depressed mutt.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“I guess dogs are more well-trained.’

“Hey. Hey, what the hell do you mean by that?”

He ignores you.

“Anyway, stop worrying about it.”

You pout.

“Easier said than done.”.

Rin’s morning routine has been the exact same for two years.

He starts by opening the window, to let fresh air and sunlight come in through the glass. He feels like his room gets stale overnight and it wakes him up to taste the sun in the back of his mouth. He takes a deep breath of it, clearing out his lungs and blinking his eyes open.

After that he stretches. He unfurls a Bluelock brand yoga mat onto his carpeted floor and gets to his usual cycle. It’s integral for an athlete to keep their muscles stretched, functioning like a well-oiled machine. He has it down pat. He starts from the bottom up, stretching his legs and working up to his arms and shoulders. His legs always come first since he’s a striker, always focusing on the mobility of his calves and foot before he stretches out his thigh.

His core, then his chest and arms. When he’s done with all that - he practices yoga for fifteen minutes. Again with mobility but this time full body, like making sure each of his limbs work with each other without any stops. He’ll sit back down after those minutes are up to meditate for another fifteen - clear his mind of absolutely anything stuck in it. It’s the most peace he gets on any given day.

At the end, he sits with his feelings. Carefully, he undoes the wrapped clothed box around his heart and stares at it as it sits in his lap. Beating and raw and melancholy blue - so full of sadness and anger like it could burst at any minute. Revisiting his sadness and rage is a necessity. Sometimes it feels like only sadness. Only monochrome.

(He wonders if a day will come where that part of his routine is changed. If ever, he’ll unwrap his own heart only to see it pink or golden yellow or even a softer shade of red. He wonders if the colors ever change, or if time will fade them.)

All of this happens before he even brushes his teeth. The rest of his morning routine is keeping his room neat. He folds the comforter on his bed, puts any dirty clothes away, and gets dressed. He doesn’t really style his hair - it’s so pin straight after washing he normally just has to brush it to keep it nice.

After that he has breakfast, and checks through his bag. On days he has school he goes to school and comes back to practice. If he’s home alone - he picks one of many other things to do. He tends to practice closer to evening, taking a shower before he goes to sleep.

On the morning of Rin’s 18th birthday, he’s only really acutely aware of the date. His morning starts the exact same as it has everyday for nearly two years. Nothing to make him feel particularly different. When he looks in the mirror, he still sees his brother's face and when he looks at his heart it’s still a steely, melancholy blue.

When he comes down stairs, though - there’s a pair of shoes he doesn’t recognize. And there’s a humming traveling down the hall and always the way up towards him that he knows quite well.

He thinks, for a minute, he might still be dreaming. Why you would be in his house on a Saturday morning makes absolutely no sense otherwise.

He slips his feet into his gray slippers and treks into the living room, only to find you in view of the open kitchen. There’s a balloon attached to flowers and a spread of fruits on the table. Orange juice in a cold glass. You with his moms borrowed apron, humming contentedly as you bend over the stove.

Rin doesn’t know what the feeling is. He doesn’t know if he’s irritated or not. Just that it’s so overwhelming to see you in his kitchen, marching to the beat of your own drum like you always do.

“What the hell are you doing in my house?”

You startle when you hear his voice, whipping around to face him. Dramatically putting a hand on your chest - you shoot him an unfriendly glare.

“Well hello to you too.”

“Answer my question.” He demands. You click your teeth.

“Well, obviously I’m making breakfast. We’re celebrating your birthday.”

“Without telling me.”

You snap your fingers before giving him finger guns “Precisely. Genius deduction, Itoshi-sama.”

“What the fuck. Where are my parents.”

“They’re out on a day-trip! It’s a Saturday. They’ll be back here on Sunday afternoon. Read the note.”

“What were you gonna do if I had last minute plans?”

“You don’t though?” You say like knowing that is so obvious. He knows you asked but still “I guess I’d turn around and make my own breakfast. Give you your gift at school or something.”

“Why are you here?” He asks a little softer this time. With a little more emotion, just a touch. He never expects anyone to make a fuss about his birthday.

Rin doesn’t really ask for much. Certainly wouldn’t ask for this on his own accord. That’s a vain thing to do, right?

It occurs to Rin that this is the kind of birthday you do for someone you like. Someone you love. You’re always confessing your feelings to him. You only say it when you’re sure. It wasn’t like Rin didn’t know you had feelings for him, because the point of it all had been for you to try and get rid of them. Or honor them, or deal with them in whatever way you saw fit. Rin had agreed on a whim to help you with that. Your friendship had started with the very notion that you liked Itoshi Rin and he didn’t like you back. It’s not some secret.

When the light pours in through the windows and hits your back and for the first time - Rin understands what the fuss is about being in love is. He’s sure that this strange, grotesque warmth is the aftermath of being liked. He always thought it’d feel more simple. That he’d remain unmoved in the face of it because he was different.

It’s not like he’s unloved. He’s sure his parents love him. His brother did too. Still does, Rin thinks.

But it’s the first time someone has made their feelings so clear to him. Someone who isn’t supposed to love or like him. And even Rin, chronically apathetic, can’t bring himself to ignore the weight of knowing that. He stares at you, dumbstruck.

You’re still turned to him. There’s a cool tumbler of iced-coffee sitting on the counter that you sip, head tilted to one side.

“Well, I don’t know,” You start, a hand on your hip “It just felt like too much of a waste to do nothing on your birthday. But you’re not the kind of guy who likes big celebrations. So I thought maybe just hanging out would be more your speed.”

Rin swallows. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Bold thing to assume.”

You frown back.

“Well, I was gonna invite Isagi-kun—“

“Isagi? How do you know Isagi?”

“He saw me leaving your house ‘cause he was gonna visit. After we talked he followed me on Instagram. Anyway, I was gonna invite him and Bachira and all four of us could go to a movie,” You explain as you sigh and go back to the stove “But he said you’d probably just want to hang out with me.”

“…And he didn’t say anything else?”

“Well he asked if we were dating so I just told him the truth. Really nice guy, by the way.”

Rin’s going to hound Isagi next time they practice together.

“So. Now you’re here… doing what exactly?”

“Making you breakfast. I’ll make you ochazuke for lunch later. Haven’t decided on dinner, I thought I’d ask when you woke up. Your mom said you liked traditional breakfast but I didn’t think I’d be done by the time you woke up so there’s fruit.”

Sure enough, when Rin walks over to the other side of the table - there’s a half done spread of breakfast on the table. All the dining ware is set up neatly, the table arranged so well he feels guilty for not helping.

“You didn’t have to do all this for me.” Rin tsks, a frown on his expression as he stands next to you. He watches you pour egg into a square pan, slowly evening out the layers.

“I wanted to,” You reply, not thinking twice about it. “I enjoy cooking for people. It’s fun. I normally just do it to feed myself, so it’s nice to share.”

He closes his eyes.

“Thanks.”

He’s afraid to look over at you, the excitement radiating off of you. It makes him uncomfortable that something so simple could make you so happy.

“Can you repeat that?”

“Don’t start.”

“Rin-chan,” You coo, immediately making him so embarrassed he wants to hit you “You’re so docile today.”

“I’m gonna kill you.” He says, hitting your shoulder as light as he can.

“Woah…how romantic. Dying on the day you were born? Jeez. I’m swooning.”

He looks at you blankly.

“Stop being gross. Where did you even get that from?”

“Too many things to count,” You say with a snap. He shakes his head.

“Is there anything I can help with?”

“How diligent. It’s fine! It’s your birthday, right? Sit. Eat some fruit. Pick out what you wanna do. I rented some games and there’s some movies I had in mind too. Make your agenda. “

Rin laughs to himself, lightly.

“Isn’t that supposed to be your job?”

“Don’t be stingy! I’m already making breakfast.”

Rin rolls his eyes.

“Yeah. Whatever.”

You end up back in Rin’s room.

After a healthy discussion about what he would like to do - Rin landed on wanting to do both. He picked out a copy of Resident Evil to play until after lunch and then decided to binge a bunch of movies after.

You even agree to accompany him while he practices. There’s 24 hours in a day and the plans are nothing more than vague suggestions - but deep down, it makes Rin kind of…well whatever. It’s not a bad plan.

Currently, you’re sitting at the foot of Rin’s bed with your hands tight around the controller of his PS4. Rin feels a little bad for you. While you do okay with horror movies, the immersion of horror games seems to frighten you enough that your eyes are glued onto the screen. As such, Rin is trying his best not to startle you as you lean forward every so slightly. The leg of your pants is pushed up just barely. You’re dressed cozy, so it’s funny seeing your head shrink into your hoodie.

“Why the fuck would you set it hardcore if this BOTH of our first times playing,” You whine, turning yourself into the next room carefully on screen “I’m scared.”

“You’re such a wuss,” He scoffs, leaning back from where he’s sitting next to you on his bed. “We’re never gonna make any progress like this.”

You stomp your feet and Rin resists the urge to laugh.

“Shut up, it’s scary.”

He nudges your shoulder with his knee.

“Stop complaining. You got to pick the character and I got to pick the difficulty.”

“I deserve to lust after Leon after the shit I’m getting put through,”

Rin scoffs at your declaration. The irritation is softened when you walk into the backroom faced with a zombie - a short scream leaving your lips as you mash buttons and use your gun to kill it quickly. You manage to dodge as much damage as you can, obviously trying not to waste limited resources. Even so it takes damn near 7 bullets. Despite your cowardice, you’re pretty good at the game.

You loot the room for any possible supplies then leave. You turn the corner of the isle, a zombie filled gas station awaiting you. You manage to save bullets and stun the one closest to you before getting your shit completely rocked - quick to duck out. The first cut scene of the game comes next where you meet the other main character Claire. You gasp like you’ve been running, shoving the controller towards Rin.

“Your turn. Move, I wanna sit on your bed.”

“Why?”

“Cause it’s a weekend and I have a right to be lazy. Shoo. On the floor.”

“You’re getting way too comfortable in my house on my birthday.”

Rin, does, go sit on the floor where you were. Mostly because it’s a better position to play the game in. At least it has minimal back support. The cut scene plays in the background, nothing difficult as the main characters go to the next area - the police station and the technical start of the game. Rin hasn’t played the remake, but he did longingly watch some playthroughs while he was in Bluelock during its release.

He had never mentioned it to you, so he was shocked you knew enough about it to bring it over. He likes survival horror and he was always wanting to play it.

“Me and your mom are best friends so I practically live here anyways. Also shut-up and look.”

He does shut up, too invested in the story to be annoyed. The main characters get separated and Leon ends up in the streets.

For whatever reason, he’s conscious about proximity. Your knee next to his shoulder. You’re close enough to touch him casually and he’s wondering…hoping to know if you’re naive enough to do it without thinking. It feels like a stroke of luck, or maybe a form of mind-reading when you reach for his hair with your fingers. He wonders if you’re doing it on purpose. He thinks he should tell you to stop.

But when you ask “Is this okay?”

He can’t find the strength in himself to do it. He focuses on the scene in front of him, weaving through the cars to shake off a horde of zombies. Rin grabs the controls, immediately turning around to try and stun a group of zombies before turning into the gate so he can head to the station.

His heart is racing and his eyes almost feel cross from how much he’s focusing but it’s not exactly the game. The game isn’t even that scary, as much as it’s gory he thinks.

“I don’t care but,” He says through a breath, trying to sound like he means it and that he’s not so conscious of the way your pinky lingers on his nape “when’d you get so touchy?”

“I like touching you.” You reply, twirling a strand of hair around your fingers “Your hair is so silky and nice. I felt when I gave you a hug that one time and I kept thinking about it.”

Rin wants to say “Do you think about me that much?” but the words don’t come out how he wants.

“Do you touch everyone like this?”

You’re silent for a minute. It takes patience, effort - not to turn his head to see the look on your face. Though he probably knows it. He thinks he just wants affirmation from you.

“...No. Not really. I just like you.”

There’s a beat of silence - a pause designated for his rejection, the promise he made to you so many months ago. He knows what the script is. And he’s said it many times before. Not in a million years, right?

But he can’t bring himself to say it this time, so he doesn’t.

“Yeah. I know.”

___

Before Rin knows it, the day is coming to a close.

The entirety of it you spend together, with you faithfully stuck to him and without Rin feeling entirely suffocated. He isn’t sure why it’s so easy with you. Normally this much socialization would render him exhausted. Irritable at best and angry at worst. But he’s not. In fact even after his entire workout routine, he felt fine listening to you ramble. He didn’t need complete silence, but even when there were lulls and dips - it didn’t feel uncomfortable.

You didn’t get far in Resident Evil 2. Rin decides to cut it short since it’d definitely take a lot longer than all the time you had and there were movies he wanted to watch. When you whine about not being able to finish - he quietly told you to just come over next time and play it with him then.

He waited a year, so he can wait a little longer. Your face lit up idiotically, giddy with delight at the promise of next time. As promised, ochazuke was for lunch and after 30 minutes of digestion - he put it out of his mind as he did his daily drills. You joined him, insisting that you’d be fine doing nothing. Sat on the field with a book the entire time even though it was cold, tossing him his things whenever he took a break - smiling each time he talked to you.

(“You know you don’t actually need to stay with me the entire day.” He reminds you of this as he brings a bottle of water to lips, sweat dripping down the side of his head even in the cool weather. You turn your head up at him.

“When else am I gonna get to stick by your side all day? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“You’re so good at being annoying it’s impressive,” He says, dropping his water bottle back down “Aren’t you bored?”

“Huh? No way. I have my fun book to keep me company and on top of that I get to see you play in the flesh.”

Oh, yeah. You mentioned watching him when he was in Bluelock. “Well, it’s not like a match. But I’m not gonna keep asking, so whatever.”

“Yes, yes - I understand. Now go, shoo.”)

Even though Rin practiced for his usually long amount of hours, you sat with him diligently - even stopping to cheer him on when you needed a break from reading or studying or whatever else you were doing.

Upon returning, he went to shower and you went to warm up in the kitchen. After he was redressed and clean, he joined you downstairs to order take-out and have dinner.

Finally, it’s after dinner and you’ve banished Rin to his room while you set something up downstairs. He’s mostly scrolling twitter, watching soccer highlights from the accounts he follows. He’s just about comfortable when you finally call him back down, which irritates him enough to click his teeth but not enough to bring it up to you.

After a long day, when Rin finally comes back down stairs, walking down into the hall and back into the living room - he can’t help but be surprised at the change in scenery. All the lights have been turned low, and everything looks different. You’ve taken to decorating a wall of his living room after some rearranging. A white sheet hanging up with something, and a plethora of fairy lights in stripes going down it in a nice pattern.

There’s a banner and it looks hand-made. It spells out happy birthday, rin in neat, thick blue letters on cut-out white shapes, attached along the back wall. On the table in front, there’s some decoration along with nice paper plates and plastic cutlery and a cake in the middle that’s nicer than he’s expecting.

You beam at him as he walks in. And you’re stupid enough to be wearing a birthday hat, giving him jazz hands as he enters.

“Happy birthday!”

On paper, Rin thinks it’s been something of a boring birthday. He did what he normally would do on a day off but you cooked for him twice. He spent most of it with you, even though it was a lot of nothing. A lot of being together like you were roommates or something. Maybe that's why he’s so reluctant to admit that this is making him feel something.

That the silly theatrics feel meaningful. It is thoughtful, isn’t it? Rin doesn’t think anyone in his entire life has done anything this thoughtful for him. Birthdays are birthdays, and they’ve never really been especially meaningful. He didn’t see the point in just celebrating the day of someone's birth. Certainly, he doesn’t think he’d have it in himself to do something like this for another person.

Rin stares at you. Wearing a stupid birthday hat and the most gleeful, idiotic smile he’s ever seen. All of this for a guy who’s rejected you, but you seem to cherish so much anyways. Apathetic and ungraceful as he is and always will be - he’s so overwhelmed he doesn’t know what to do. What a strange, unrecognizable feeling welling up inside of him. And not even one feeling, but so many so tangled with each other - he can’t see anything straight. His eyes aren’t drawn to the candlelight, or the moon, or the cake.

It’s like a sense of tunnel vision. Where all Rin can really look at is you. It’s happened before. How can anyone be like this, he wonders. Are there people born into the world so unselfishly? And if they are, why would he ever cross paths with them? How could someone so easy to love have any business loving him, in the first place?

Rin won’t ever understand you. He accepts that. He’ll never be able to understand this kind of person. Someone who shines even brighter than the sun.

But he’s not so stupid to not understand himself. He’s unable to say the words he’d promised to you all the way in April. Rin doesn’t like to lie.

He would be lying, that is, if you told him just one more time that you liked him. He’d be lying if it told you it’ll never happen. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t like you. And it’s not just because you like him, because that never mattered to him in the first place.

Some people are made to be adored. Born special and bright like everything should revolve around them. Perhaps that kind of thing is only afforded to people without ego. With heart and character and charisma.

It doesn’t matter. What a stupid thing to realize on his birthday of all days.

“Rin-kun?”

He blinks.

“Where’d you hide all of this?”

You laugh at him, bubbly and delighted.

“I brought it in a tote and kept it in the kitchen. Mostly stuff from my house, and your mom helped with the cake and stuff. It’s nice right? I did a good job, no?”

Ah. He’s fucked.

“It looks okay.”

You frown, huffing and puffing “Just okay? C’mon, don’t be stingy.”

“Doesn’t begging for compliments defeat the purpose of them.”

“Not to me,”

Your frown deepens and Rin is starting to feel the rose colored glasses set in.

“It’s nice. It’s good.”

“So you like it? You’re happy? Delighted, even? Absolutely overjoyed by-”

“Cut it out or I’m going to send you home.”

“No,” You whine, tugging on his sleeves like you’re worried he really will “I want cake.”

“Then let’s cut the cake?”

“We can’t,” You put your arms up in a cross and Rin gives you a look of confusion. “I promised I’d get a good picture of you.”

“What? Promised who?”

“Your parents, mostly. But also, you should post on your Instagram a little more, no? You’re basically a famous player already, you should have the courtesy to feed your fans.”

Before he can do anything to protest, you usher Rin to sit on the other side of the table before you back with his phone. He stares at you but you only look at him expectantly. Still, he unlocks it and hands it to you. He gives you an irritated sigh (though he isn’t really irritated).

“This is stupid.”

“It’s a good thing to capture memories, you dummy. Now smile,” You say, holding up the camera after some angling “Or don’t. The people do love a good scowl.”

That makes him want to smile. He’s awkward in the photos but he does stay still for them, trying his best not to look ridiculous. You take a few, then pause to come up to the table and light the candles in front of him. He hears the camera shutter one more time before you look up at him over the edge.

“Ready to blow out your candles?”

“I guess.”

Before Rin can do anything about it, he listens to you sing happy birthday - poorly with too much enthusiasm. You’re tone deaf and passionate all at the same time - singing each word with a dramatic flair until you’re on the final word. You can’t clap because you’re recording but you do cheer as he burns the candles out. Once it’s over you stop recording, looking down and swiping through the pictures.

“They turned out good. You should post them.”

“...You’re done taking them?”

You tilt your head to one side.

“Yeah?”

“We didn’t get any together.”

Your eyes widen like he said something shocking.

“...You wanna take them together?”

He scoffs.

“We spent the whole day together.”

You flush, suddenly embarrassed and god.

“I just wasn’t expecting you to want that. I mean we’re friends but-”

“Shut up. And come here.”

So you do, phone still in hand as you mess with your appearance.

“Do you want to take it or do you want me to?”

“Oh, uh lemme just-” You go through a bunch of filters and find one before handing it to him, a nervous expression “You take it cause your arm is longer and you’re taller.”

Rin just nods. Takes the phone from you, and lets you pose a little before he takes the photo. He hands it back to you so you can see, and watches your eyes light up as you stare at it. Stupid.

“It came out nice.” You say. You save it onto his phone before handing it back to him. “Send it to me later?”

“Yeah.”

You give him another grin and Rin takes his phone from you, going through the pictures as he opens up Instagram. He guess it wouldn’t hurt to post. You leave his side, saying something about cutting the cake. But he isn’t looking, really.

He drafts a post as he waits for you. He likes the picture you took together best and decides to put it second. He never has any idea on how to caption these which is why he doesn’t want to post it in the first place. He glances at you, then sighs internally.

itoshirin._ posted for the first time in a while. posted 7 mins ago. liked by isagi_yoichi, bachiraaaaa, and others. itoshirin._ ; 09.09.2002. thanks for everything, stupid. isagi_yoichi commented: no way you’re getting a girlfriend before me. life is so unfair and cruel. isagi_yoichi commented: oh happy birthday btw bachiraaaaa commented: RIN-CHAN !!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶ official_itoshisae: happy birthday. itoshirinsnumberonefan: WHO IS THAT?? yo_hiori: happy birthday!

“Rin, I cut the cake!”

He puts his phone on DND before taking a plate of cake from your hand.

The clock strikes two, and you’re still at Rin’s place.

After a long binge of horror movies, you’re both comfortably in each other's space - only inches away, talking about nothing. The movie ended a little over half an hour ago.

He’s still doing just that, listening to you chatter away next to his ear. The room is completely dark minus the soft glow of the T.V. which gives just enough light for Rin to gaze at your face. Your eyes are wide and sparkly, still, even though it seems like the tiredness is getting to you too.

Neither of you wants to stop talking. You’ve started discussing manga - particularly Rin's favorite manga.

“Ciguatera was interesting,” You say, hugging one of his pillows close to your chest. “I wasn’t sure what to expect.”

“I’m shocked you read it. Seriously. I thought you would’ve forgotten the minute after I told you.”

“Well, yeah. You recommended it, so obviously I wanted to at least try,” You say with a breathless laugh, turning over to face him. You’re facing each other, he realizes a second too late “You’re such a boy, by the way. Weekly young magazine? Really.”

“Shut up.” He says, with no real bite to his words “What were you expecting?”

“Dunno. Didn’t think you were interested in romance of all things. Especially cause Ogino’s kind of a loser.”

“There was other stuff in it.” He points out. You chuckle.

“Yeah. Way raunchier and darker than I thought. But it was mostly about romance. So, I was surprised to say the last.”

“What,” Rin starts, partially offended by the implication “Do you think I'm a soulless machine or something?”

“Well no,” You frown, shaking your head as you stare at him “But you’ve rejected every confession you’ve ever gotten, even from some of the prettiest girls in our entire grade. So I didn’t think you had any interest in that kinda thing.”

He scoffs.”You’re stupid.”

“You tell me all the time,” You point your fingers and place them under your chin. “Why did you reject them, by the way? Just trying to focus on soccer?”

He feels flush, explaining. Turning his gaze to the ceiling, he sighs.

“None of those people actually had feelings for me. It wasn’t meaningful in any way.”

“And you want it to be meaningful?”

“There’s no point being in a relationship with someone I don’t like and barely know. And who doesn’t really care to get to know me. I’m busy enough with soccer, and I don’t have time to entertain lukewarm relationships like that.”

“What an unexpectedly sentimental reason. How soft of you Rin-kun.”

“Shut up.”

There’s a pause of thoughtful silence where you hum and lay flat on your back, reaching your hand up towards the ceilings. Rin can’t do much more than look.

“You know. How I said I’ve been watching you since you were in Bluelock?”

“Yeah.”

“Y’know. I always thought you looked really sad back then. I might’ve been reading too much into it but,” You smile, corners of your lips upturned while you giggle “It’s like…weirdly relieving to see you like this.”

“Like what?”

“You’re like…just a boy,” You say wispy and delighted “A normal boy who reads shitty raunchy magazines and thinks about love. It’s comforting somehow. Makes me feel special. I really like you. A little more every day, it feels like.”

Another beat of silence. He thinks you can sense the hesitance of his rejection. There’s such a tangible shift in the atmosphere. If Rin stretches his hand out to touch it, he thinks he’d push through an impossible barrier and keep falling in it forever. He thinks it would swallow him.

He isn’t sure what it is. If it’s an act of bravery, or a sudden uptick in adrenaline, or if the exhaustion of a long day is finally starting to hit. Maybe it’s just these feelings that keep overwhelming him that make his body move. Something outside of his mind, nestled in his ribs, that has him inching closer to you.

He flips until he’s hovering over you. Your eyes widen and you stare at him. He stares back, like he almost can’t believe himself.

“Rin-kun?”

And he freezes. The confidence dissipates as soon as he finds it but now he’s above you, on top of you. You’re messy and flush from the day. Your mascara is smudged and your lipgloss is gone - leaving a faint sheen on your mouth that matches your skin. Your hoodie is rumpled around the shoulders - one of the sleeves pulled to your elbows. Rin really gets a look at you. Cognizant of the fact he spent all day with you. That’s why you look worn and sleepy and so unbelievably cute. So cute it annoys him. Irritates him half to death.

You open your mouth again, only to close it. It almost feels like he can hear your heart. Or maybe it’s his. It’s hard to know the difference.

“Is this a n-new kind of bullying?” You joke, trying to ease the tension. He frowns at you.

“Does it seem like I’m joking?”

Your eyes widen and you turn away. Rin wants to make you look.

“Well no but…” And you squirm a little “what are you doing?”

He doesn’t know, either.

“I don’t know.” He admits, and you laugh a little breathless and the tension is so thick Rin can’t swallow around it “I want to kiss you.” He blurts out. Awkward and uncharismatic and clumsy.

A bout of silence.

“...Am I going insane? Did you just say you want to kiss me?”

“I did.”

More silence.

“Why? Wouldn’t that make me your first kiss?”

“It would.”

“And isn’t that like… reserved for your special someone?”

“It is.”

“Rin-kun,” You breathe out, blinking in disbelief “Do you even know what you’re saying?”

“I do.”

You’re a little more serious this time. You put your hand on his shoulder. He feels like the Earth is gonna fall from under his feet.

“Stop messing with me.”

“I’m not.”

You frown.

“Do you really want to kiss me?”

“Yeah,” He can’t think “I do.”

You reach up for him. You’re more experienced with this kind of thing and it shows as you cup the nape of his neck. He doesn’t finch. He doesn’t look away from you either, as your thumb brushes under his eyes - the both of you so wrapped up in each other nothing matters. Rin would stay in this forever, if someone gave him the option.

“W-we have to talk about this afterwards, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’m serious, Itoshi Rin. Because you can’t just—”

Your palm cups his cheek and he rubs against it instinctively. He sees your eyes widen and you swallow - a frown still etched into your features.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Your voice goes as soft as a whisper.

“You’re so unfair.”

He almost laughs.

“Please kiss me.” He asks, so silently it almost goes unheard but he knows you hear it because your lips press into a thin line before you’re pulling Rin down towards you. Your lips are soft. And warm. And they taste faintly like whip-cream and the slight sour of strawberries and your hands are so gentle. Somehow he feels at ease even though he feels like he’s going to implode on himself from nerves.

Just a little deeper before you pull away and stare at him. Rin looks back, eyes jumping from your lips up to your eyes and back down to your lips. You open your mouth to say something. Mumbling his given name only for him to cut you off with another kiss, a little deeper this time. The way it shuts you up is so cute it almost makes him angry. How it muffles your words, tapers off into a noise of surprise and ends up just back at a kiss.

He’s never felt like this kind of thing was a viable option. Itoshi Rin is an antisocial, angry, and apathetic soccer protege and he has no time in the world for anything lukewarm. He’s rejected every confession he’s ever received in his life and always thought of relationships as something far off and disconnected to him in his entirety.

Perpetually unloveable but maybe not in such an angsty, vulnerable way. Like a law of the universe. A truth, like thinking of him, means to postulate that he is that way. A prerequisite to understanding him.

Rin doesn’t like things that are half-ass. Perhaps, part of the reason he likes you so much is because you’ve proved him wrong in such an utterly defeating way. The fact your very existence is by and large, the antithesis of this truth.

Itoshi Rin is not only loveable, but he is capable of loving. There is evidence of it, right underneath him now - with soft lashes and wet eyes and the brightest smile that could ever exist.

And it’s haunting for more reasons than one. But he likes how unyielding the revelation is. You’re worried he’ll want to avoid it, and he does. But he doesn’t think he could forever, even if he tried.

He’s confident if he made the attempt, you’d come barreling towards him once more. With all the confidence in the world. It makes him want to at least try to face it.

Which is why he’s kissing you a second, third, and fourth time. Which is why he’s looking at you in between, wide blue eyes transfixed on every part of your face. He’s trying to face what daunts him most, not like but love and the difference is more important as the days pass.

You pull away, finally - put a hand on his chest and stare.

“Rin-kun,” You whisper, uncertain of yourself which he hates. “I like you. I really like you.” And again, a little softer “And I want you to like me too,” Like that had been the biggest secret of all. Something you’d never told anyone, even once.

Rin can’t imagine it. Have you been holding in something like this all this time? He only realized a couple hours ago and it already feels like he’s going to rip apart at the seams.

“I do. I do like you.”

“Really? Forreal? Seriously? You’re not pulling my leg? Yanking my chain?”

He knocks his forehead against yours.

“Be quiet. How can you be this stupid in the middle of getting confessed to?”

You pout. Pout at him, all whiny. God.

“It doesn’t feel real to me.”

He laughs humorlessly. “It’s all a dream. You’ll forget it all in the morning.”

“Stop being mean to me.”

He has to be. If he’s not you’re going to see right through him.

“No,” He says instead “Stop being so ridiculous first.”

“An impossible ask to the world's most ridiculous girl.”

He smiles a little.

“That’s a good name for you. I’ll change your contact.”

“Nooo,” You say again, this time pulling him down for a hug. His eyes widened. And he’s unfair? “Be nice to your girlfriend.”

He doesn’t have anything to say to that. It flusters him too, admittedly. Before he can think of a counter, you yawn big and wide. Rin is still on top of you and neither of you have brushed your teeth. He was planning on putting you up in the guest room, but currently you’re clinging to him half-away. And he has no such plans of telling you to move.

“I’m so tired.”

Rin feels like he’s going to pass out, He mumbles.

“You can sleep.”

“Want you to sleep too.”

Rin closes his eyes. He couldn’t refuse even if he wanted to. You’ll have to talk about it in the morning.

“Okay.”

“Rin? Where’s your frie—oh!”

Rin stirs the minute his mom enters the room. It only takes him a minute to regain consciousness and by the time he’s awake - he’s already regretting not locking his door.

He continues to pretend to be asleep. He thinks you still are because you’re comfortably slotted in his arms. Rin is so embarrassed he wants to die. He hears his mom gasp, and then quietly shouts for his father to come to his room.

“What are you—oh.”

Rin is going to have the worst morning of his life whenever they leave. He remains still. He hears the shutter of a camera and grits his teeth all the way in the back of his jaw.

“Oh this will make a great wedding photo.”

His dad laughs a little to himself, ushering his mother out of the room “Don’t get carried away,”

When the door finally clicks, Rin opens his eyes and lets out a breath of relief. Much to his shock, he also feels you stir. His eyes widen when you turn to him, your face painted in utter mortification before you bury it in your hands. He stares at you as you groan, kicking your feet.

“Oh god I’m going to cry. How am I going to face her? Oh my god”

Rin scoffs a little at your dramatics. It calms him down in a strange way “She’s not gonna say anything to you. She’s probably only going to bully me about it.”

“I’ve forsaken you, mother-in-law”

Rin nudges your ribs, blush crawling up his face.

“Shut up.”

Up until three weeks ago, Rin didn’t take issue with the way you interacted at school.

You two have a pretty strict policy about it. Though you’re in the same class and you chat occasionally in the halls - you tend to avoid Rin where you can. Originally, this made sense. For the sake of his comfort and yours, the best choice was sneaking to the roof together to eat where you could remain mostly undisturbed.

As such, Rin has never been particularly consciousness of your presence in the classroom. For starters, you’re always somewhere. A busybody of the highest pedigree and always running errands - even if Rin were to try to talk to you he can only really find you 20 percent of the time. Secondly, unlike Rin, you have a handful of friends surrounding you. Rin has interacted with them very briefly but you (seemingly for his sake) try not to force him out of his comfort zone too much by making you all sit together. The most Rin has gotten from them is a single knowing smirk or glance.

And lastly, before three weeks ago, it would’ve been a big problem if people started getting onto either of you about a relationship that didn’t exist. That would've been all around awkward and uncomfortable and maybe would’ve deterred your future endeavors with other guys.

That was when you and Itoshi Rin were in fact not dating.

Three weeks into your relationship and nothing much has changed, though nowadays you come over to his house on weekends where you can. You’ve even been on one date after his dad (of all people) hounded him about never taking you on a proper one.

You text the same as you did before, and you call Rin a little more often. Usually for the purposes of rambling so much you tucker yourself out and fall asleep.

But at school, Rin only really sees you for the spare minutes of lunch and not much more than that. He’s never really thought about it before. It was never enough of an issue to warrant his intervention.

It’s not like he cares, okay?

But he’s more aware of it, now - frustratingly enough. You really don’t see each other often enough in school and you have many more guy friends than he had ever considered before. Every time he catches you and Murata-senpai trekking down the hall he feels his blood pressure rise.

You and Rin have both decided, though. Despite his posting of you, neither of you have confirmed the relationship. Rin is immune to the prying and you’re good at dodging it altogether. This is the agreement.

It is therefore very irrational of him to be thinking of speaking up at this current moment in time.

Despite your mutual decision to keep things as private as possible, Rin has heard nothing but gossip about the situation for weeks. Outside of the usual, direct kind of prying - there’s whispers and stares and all sorts of other things. Rin doesn’t care about it. He’s used to it, it’s part of the gig and the neo-egoist league made him near immune.

It’s all the things directed at you that make him seethe. Misplaced jealousy and the disappointed remarks of guys in class that make him feel like his blood pressure is rising. The latter is what’s making him most irritated now. How fucking long are these idiots going to talk about this?

“Dude, you had like three years to confess,” Some idiot, who’s name Rin doesn’t know is still yapping “If she’s actually dating Mr.Popular then it’s on you for fucking yourself over.”

The other idiot in question groans, and Rin forces his face to remain impassive as he listens. He tries to stop listening. More than once, actually. But they just keep going.

“I didn’t think he’d actually do it dude. Like there’s no way, right? He rejected every single girl who ever confessed to him. I thought she was safe. And now my highschool love is forever ruined.”

Like he ever stood a chance. How ridiculous.

Another one of the goons speaks up “Dunno. Neither of them have said anything right? You miss all of the shots you don’t take.”

“Are you saying I should just confess to her anyway? She got posted on his Instagram dude.”

A smirk appears on Extra Three’s face “No confirmation means fair game. Stop being pussy and do it.”

“You think I stand a chance against that dude?”

Rin can feel all three pairs' eyes hit him at once.

“Nah. Not a chance. But you could always wait till she’s all heartbroken and comfort her, right? Hook, line, and sinker.”

“I hear when girls are heartbroken they’re like way more likely to let you—”

With that, Rin stands to his feet. He’s seething. It’s ridiculous. It’s stupid. He should definitely just leave to go cool his head but he’s so fucking angry it’s hard to sit still and he has no other way of dealing with his feelings. So he walks towards the table slowly, eyes darkened and just barely holding it in

He knows this is a bad idea. He can feel the whole classroom look at him as he slams his hand down on the desk. But he doesn’t care. He’ll deal with it later.

“You’d be fucking lucky if my girlfriend ever looked your way.”

As soon as Rin says it, there's a thud at the door-way of the classroom. When he looks up you’re there with your eyes widened. Rin just looks back, impassive and immune to the sudden uproar of whispers.

He only clicks his teeth when you grab him by the sleeve of his uniform - cracking a small smile as he hears the faint words “Just give up dude.” as he leaves.

Up on the roof top, you’re shaking Rin by the shoulders - visibly distressed.

“Hey! What the hell was that?”

“What.” He offers, not willing to budge on the situation. In the first place he’s a little irritated by all of it. And he’s a little irritated by how much you’ve been enforcing the no-talking rule. Right now, it really feels like he can’t take it anymore.

You frown deeply, distress only growing as the time passes in uncomfortable silence. Rin doesn’t want to be civil about it. About it and about you and about those idiots.

“We had an agreement!” You say, grabbing him by the front of his shirt, though it’s weak. He stares down at you.

“So what?”

“Rin, we talked about this. Don’t be like this.”

“Like what.”

“Pissy and weird. You’re being weird and I don’t like it. It’s making me sad.”

“How am I being—”

Before Rin can proceed with his sentence, he catches a glimpse of your face in the midst of his tantrum. Sad like a puppy who got its tail stepped on and about ready to cry, he immediately seals his mouth in fear of making it worse.

“Why are you doing that?” He spits.

“Doing what?”

“Being all sad and pathetic. Does it really bother you that much if people know we’re dating?”

“It’s not like that.” You assure.

“Then what is it?” Rin prods, frustrated but not wanting to make things worse “Why is it such a big deal?”

There’s a bout of silence before you sigh.

“Rin, you’re a huge soccer player. The people you’re dating and stuff - it’s a big deal,”

Rin cuts you off.

“That’s what you were worried about? My career?”

“Well, yeah.”

“You’re stupid.”

“Hey! I’m seriously worried about it and then you go and—”

He gives you a frown. He forgets all too often you’re like this. He’s used to your silly and unserious way of talking, so it slips his mind that you’re actually a massively responsible person. You probably have a point about it, thinking of the consequences of your relationship through hell and back. With a detached sense of rationality - Rin can recognize that you’re probably thinking about more things than this. Otherwise it wouldn’t be so touchy of a subject.

Nothing’s changed on paper, but everything will eventually. It’s something to think about, admittedly.

Honestly Rin doesn’t care what strangers think. He’s blunt and unfriendly. Always has been, and will continue to be through the majority of his career he’s absolutely sure. Even outside of Bluelock, he has almost no regard for the opinions of other people and what concerns them. Maybe it’s irresponsible, but Rin isn’t playing soccer for the approval of the populace and nothing will ever change that.

“If I thought that was something I should worry about, we wouldn’t be dating.”

You look up at him.

“You should be worried about it.” You emphasize.

“I’m not. I don’t care what any of those people think.”

“Then why’d you go and say something?”

Rin seethes.

“They deserved it.”

Your hand reaches for his cheek. He pauses and takes a deep breath, staring at you. He leans into your touch instinctively, frustration eased by the sensation. You stare back.

“Okay. We’ll announce it officially later, then.”

“Do we even need to do that? If you tell three people, half of our grade’ll find out anyway.”

“Are you saying my friends gossip?”

He doesn’t reply to that. You pout at him and Rin fights the urge to kiss you. There’s a beat of silence as you give him a hug - the two of you on the same roof you always are. Rin doesn’t mind it, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist.

“You know, it’s gonna get busy for me soon.” You mumble. So this is what else you were worrying about. “And for you. I have my entrance exam and the school is in Tokyo. And you’re gonna go back to Bluelock and—”

“It’ll be fine.”

“I’m worried about it anyways.”

“About what?”

“I’ll see you less. What if you stop liking me randomly and I can’t even hunt you down about it?”

Rin huffs “You’re insane enough to find me,” He drops his chin on your shoulder “Plus you talk to my mom.”

“You’re gonna be so busy.”

“I’ll come see you when I’m not.”

“And you’re going to be surrounded by the human equivalent of siren women someday soon.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“But you might.”

“I haven’t in eighteen years, you moron.”

“I’m gonna miss you all the time.” You say, sniffly and Rin is so struck with a feeling of affection he almost falls “I already miss you all the time.”

He squeezes you a little tighter “It’ll be fine.”

“For you.”

Rin furrows his brow, pulling back to stare at you.

“Not for me,” Because Rin can begrudgingly admit he will miss you worse than this “Just in general. It’ll be fine. You almost made it a year without me.”

“But now I’m with you,” You reply easily, and softly and oh-so in love Rin wants to turn away “And I’m so happy and I want it be like this for a long time,”

“Just a long time? Not something stupid like a blossoming eternity?”

“I thought I’d scare you.”

“You did that in April.” He points out flatly. You hit him lightly but smile anyway.

“It’s a problem how much I like you.”

Rin likes you just as much. You’re probably too much of an idiot to realize and won’t for a long while. He takes a little comfort in, strangely.

“It’ll be fine. I’ll come see you.” He says again, because it’s the only thing he can think to say. He believes in it thoroughly. If Rin were a better, more candidly vulnerable person he thinks now he’d give the loving boyfriend speech. He almost wants to half-assedly try but can’t bring himself to get past the awkwardness. He hugs you tighter because it’s all he’s capable of, and hopes he can will it into you. The sincerity of his words, he wants so badly for them to reach you “Stop worrying so much.”

“Rin-kun,” You start, then pause to look up at him. His breath hitches “Rin. I love you. Really.”

He feels like he’s gonna be sick as he stares at you, eyes widened. You look the same as you always do. Unexpectant, terribly sincere, with your heart on your sleeve. The more Rin knows you, the more he thinks it can’t be easy to be so vulnerable all the time.

So you do it for him, and only him. And Rin is always going to be intolerable. Frustrating and impatient. But he wants to do it for you too, where he can. Rin wants you to know it’ll be fine because the fact that you’re standing here now is nothing short of a miracle. Nothing comes out right.

“Yeah.” He says, but he can’t get the rest of words out. And you laugh, and peek up at him through your lashes.

“And you love me too, don’t you?”

Rin grits his teeth. He wants to say no.

“I guess.”

“And we’re going to be just fine.” You repeat, hugging him tight. Rin hugs you back. He wants to say thank you. He wants to kiss you stupid and make fun of you at the same time. He wants you so much and so often he’s sure he’s lost his fucking mind.

But he agrees with you, at least. He nods. He holds you. He doesn’t like to lie, so he looks at you instead.

“Yeah. It’s gonna be fine.”

EPILOGUE ;

In Rin’s defense, he’s not trying to listen in on the conversions of your underclassmen.

For starters, the club door is cracked up and Rin only has one airpod fully charged. Secondly, it’s not like they’re being quiet. Rin’s pretty sure anyone with decent enough hearing could hear them from down the hall. Given that it’s the newspaper club, he’s sure that the conversation isn’t usually this interesting.

It’s just when he catches wind of your name while you’re nowhere to be found, he finds himself eavesdropping just a little. He leans back into the chair he’s sitting in, face tucked into his black mask and hat pulled neatly over his head.

“Guys, I’ve decided I’m going to confess to Boss no matter what.”

He must mean you. Rin often hears how some of the people in the club affectionately add danchou to the end of your name. Rin scoffs a little at the kids' confidence. It reminds him a little of highschool. Rin really think you’re at more of a risk than he is. Being a celebrity makes him naturally unattainable - more of a fixture than a person.

Everytime someone confesses to you though it’s sincere. From knowing you. And he gets it but it doesn’t keep him from scoffing and turning his nose up.

“It’d be a good idea to give up while you’re ahead.” Says another unnamed voice.

“Yeah Nakao-san. Do you even know who Senpai's boyfriend is?”

“N-no. But it doesn’t matter. Through the powerful of love I’ll—”

Before Rin gets a chance to listen anymore, he hears your voice call out for him. He snaps his head up to look at you. You’re dressed so professionally it’s hard to recognize you like that. Your hair is cut neat and styled professionally and you’re dressed in business casual. He’s relieved he brought shoes for you to change into.

You run up to him anyway, and Rin stands up to make sure you don’t stumble as you throw your arms around his neck. You’re closer in height with your heels on so he doesn’t have to bend down much at all to kiss you. He pulls down his mask quickly.

“Rin-tan, you’re here.” You say with a soft, breathless giggle “I missed youuu.”

“Missed you too,” He says, an arm squeezed around your waist “I have shoes for you in the car,”

You gasp, rubbing your cheek against his affectionately.

“You’re the best in the world. My feet are so sore.”

“Did the interview go well?” Rin asks. You pull away, moving your hair away from your eyes before nodding.

“Uh-huh. The women's rugby team captain is super chill and she interviews great so it went smoothly. I just need to drop the transcript off and then we can leave,” You say holding his hand. He squeezes your palms “Do you want to meet them? You don’t have to but a lot of them ask about you.”

Normally Rin would say no. But he’s feeling a little petty today, after all.

“Sure.”

You beam, your hand in his as you nudge the door open. The room goes silent, a bout of excited cheering following at your return. He’s relieved to see you’re still so well loved, a little reluctant to let go of your hand.

“Senpai, you’re back.”

“Yup, yup. I have the transcript and recording on this USB. Watch it and draft the article up tonight. When I come in tomorrow, we’ll go through editing and get it out by Monday.” You say, hand on hip before remembering his presence. You grab him and Rin follows “Oh, and guys - this is my boyfriend! Rin Itoshi.”

Most of them seem to know. Rin can sense the admiration but it’s respectful. He can tell that everyone is professionals in the field. Rin likes that. He bows politely.

“Nice to meet everyone,”

“Nice to meet you too, Itoshi-san.”

“Danchou…you’re dating Rin Itoshi…the famous soccer player Rin Itoshi?”

You giggle, looping your arm in Rin’s. He laughs internally. It’s the same kid who wanted to confess to you.

“Uh-huh. We’re highschool sweethearts! And today is our very special date night so don’t contact me for any reason until tomorrow morning at least. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Bye, senpai.”

“Have fun on your date.”

With that, you turn the corner and leave the room - immediately beginning to ramble about your day. Rin half-listens. He only pays complete attention when he hears your kouhais talking from down the hall.

“Told you to give up, dude.”

“Rin. Are you paying attention?”

He chuckles to himself.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

❁ a/n ; hello!! me again. first of alll, if you read through this whole fic, thank you so much. second of all i want to discuss a few things about this fic.

im usually pretty keen on localization for my fics where possible because i think it makes for a smoother reader experience - however the usage of honorifics was important to the atmosphere for this one so i'll hope it wasn't too awkward to read.

secondly, im nervous about rins characterization for this one so i hope it was alright. apologies for any errors its 5am and im soo tired.

this fic was mostly meant as an exploration of how i think rin would really benefit from being with someone eccentric and bubbly. the core of their relationship is that reader is an overall emotionally intelligent and honest person and how that has a huge influence on rin so i hope that growth came thru. once again thanks for reading and i hope u enjoyed. rbs and tags always appreciated!

#itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin fluff #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #writing tag #rin x reader #rin fluff #my brother in christ... how did this happen.

2K notes · View notes

msafterhours · 5 months

Text

Two Hands

Male Reader x woo!ah! & EL7Z UP Nana (Nayeon)

~25k words

“We should do this more often,” Nayeon murmurs into your chest.

“I mean, sure, I’d be happy to come support your group any time I’m not—”

“No, not that!” she exclaims, giggling slightly as she pulls away just enough to look up at you. “I mean this.”

And she pulls you in even tighter, leaving you short of breath in more ways than one.

Nights like this make you wish the world was a bit kinder to you. You’re bundled under multitudes of layers of thick clothes, thin mask and scarf completing your near head to toe coverage, yet you still can’t seem to keep your teeth from chattering incessantly. Your efforts manage to preserve some of your warmth, but another shiver reminds you of the urgent need to get inside and get some food inside of you. It’s really, really cold outside.

Thus, you swear the gleaming gates of heaven themselves stand before you when you catch a glimpse of the bright lights of your favorite little ramen shop. Fighting against the harsh winter air, you trudge through the icy slush, cursing the severity of the snowstorm and the stupidity of your decision to splurge on a new pair of casual shoes instead of investing in more functional footwear. It’s really, really cold outside.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you open the door and feel the warm embrace of the heated air, but your solace is swiftly supplanted by dread as you look around and notice that the shop’s well over full capacity, with little if any seating room available.

"Whatever, let's just get in line and hope for the best," you think to yourself as you take your place in line behind a pair of old ladies.

“I swear, it was a rabbit that ran past us!” one exclaims.

“Absolutely not, I know a squirrel when I see one!” the other insists, stomping her foot in frustration.

tick...

tock...

After a few surprisingly entertaining minutes, you finally make it to the front of the line and the familiar face behind the counter.

"The same as the last hundred or so times?" the old lady asks with a wry smile.

"Hey hey hey, ninety-two times, thank you very much!" you answer with mock indignation. "But yes, I’m well aware how much of my budget goes to your shop, Aunt Kim."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," she fires back, tapping away at the screen as she yells your order to the kitchen. "Would you?"

"Absolutely not," you answer without hesitation as you leave a generous tip. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna attempt the impossible and try to find somewhere to sit in your stupidly crowded shop."

"Good luck!" she calls out as you turn and walk away. "You're going to need it!"

You sweep the room once, twice. Neither survey produces anything but depressing results. A third time, just in case. Nothing’s changed. A heavy, dramatic sigh escapes you as you ready yourself to accept your seemingly inevitable fate. But before you can concede, a bright glint in the corner of your vision offers hope, causing you to turn and find what you've been desperately looking for.

A girl, seemingly around your age, with glowing golden hair that shines brilliantly, reflecting the warm yellow lights scattered around the shop, sits alone. Your heart leaps for joy as you see, most importantly, an unutilized chair across from her. You cling to that shred of hope, quickly making your way over before coming to a stop in front of her table.

A few moments more than you can endure pass as she continues to tap away her phone, either not noticing your presence or choosing to ignore it. Eventually, you clear your throat and wave your hand in front of her, causing her to jump slightly and finally look up at you. Your eyes meet, and you feel the words escape your mind in the moment you hold her gaze. It takes a second, then another, but you finally remember your goal and cease your staring.

"Um, sorry to bother you, but … there are no other seats available, and I really, really, don't want to have to go outside again yet," you hurriedly explain, praying to whoever’s listening that this random, empyrean being you just met might miraculously take pity upon you. "Would it be alright if I sat here with you?"

She regards you for many moments, each feeling like an eternity as you stand there awkwardly. She stares, deep into your eyes then deeper still, hunting an ulterior motive. Her eyes flash and dart, scanning the singular you as if you’re an entire crowd. You know not what she searches for, but whatever test of virtue you’re subjected to, she seems satisfied with the result as she nods and gestures to the seat across from her.

You finally release the breath you hadn't realized you were holding, thanking her profusely as you join her at the table.

Your display finally earns a crack in the ice, shifting her skeptical expression to one of sick amusement as she comments, "If you’re this scared of the cold, why are you out so late? Surely you didn’t forget to go shopping before the snowstorm … right? Surely."

You feel your ears burning with a warmth from deep, deep within as your embarrassment flares up. Your initial response tells truths, but her smug expression leads your words elsewhere. "Would you believe I just really wanted ramen from my favorite shop and was willing to suffer the consequences to do so?"

Her sinister smile widens as she leans in and counters, "I just might … if you didn't sound like a guilty schoolboy who got caught trying to copy someone's test answers."

She holds your gaze once again, deep brown eyes delving into the depths of your soul, trapping you within a pocket of agonizing silence amongst the shop’s raucous atmosphere.

"Well?" she whispers breathlessly. "Are you gonna use your words? Or are you just gonna let those firetruck red ears do the talking?"

You exhale heavily, feeling your faux hubris exit your body as you confess, "Alright, fine. You got me. No more lies. I might've sorta ruined up my planning for the week and ran out of food last night, alright? Now, please, I beg you, stop looking at me like that."

Your response catches her off guard, but you’re quick to join her in shock as she bursts into a quiet fit of laughter. Her mirth immediately entrances you; each note a part of the chorus that dances on your eardrums and seals itself deep into your heart.

You wrack your brain for a proper retort, hoping to turn the tides of this war of words, but your rebuttal is prevented by the arrival of Aunt Kim with your meal. You thank her profusely as she sets it down, earning a smile before she turns to address your companion.

"Would you like me to take your bowl, Nayeon?" she asks, smiling at your companion in a way you’d believed was reserved for only you.

"Yes please, thank you, ma'am," Nayeon responds, picking up the bowl and handing it to her.

"Bah, you and your stubbornness," Aunt Kim grumbles. "With how often you come here, the formality just feels stuffy. Just call me Aunt Kim like this other addict does."

“I could probably do that. You could also agree to call me Nana like all my other friends do,” Nayeon answers back, a genuine smile gracing her features for the first time you’ve seen.

Aunt Kim rolls her eyes dramatically as she pats your head affectionately in the way she knows you hate, then walks away with that same warm smile that you’d thought was saved exclusively for you, but now know is also shared with the girl sitting across from you.

"Oh, you’re a regular too?" you ask as you begin to enjoy your meal. "I'm surprised I haven't seen you before."

"I'm usually here later," Nayeon responds as she idly taps away on her phone again. "Not huge on coming here when it's so busy."

"I totally get that. I'm usually here earlier, before the big rush, but this week has been crazy. Add the storm on top of that, and I guess that leaves me here, forced to settle for getting swept up in the dinner surge."

"Oh, so you're settling for my company, huh? I see how it is," Nayeon replies, feigning indignation as she crosses her arms and huffs in disbelief. "I guess next time a popsicle wants to share a table, I'll make sure to send him back to the freezer."

"Hey hey hey, easy now," you reply, raising your hands in surrender. "I'm not a huge fan of this chaos either, but I am eternally grateful for your company and your great sacrifice of existing in my vicinity."

"You're very welcome," Nayeon offhandedly remarks. "Your expression mid-head pat was almost hilarious enough to justify my continued tolerance of your presence."

And just like that, you feel the conversation derail, coming to a screeching halt as hints of embarrassment creep up your neck and render your face even more flush. With a grumble and a rather undignified pout, you let your eyes fall to the far warmer bowl of ramen that awaits you and begin enjoying your meal, causing Nayeon to hum in amused satisfaction at your surrender as she returns to her phone and resumes tapping away at what sounds like a game.

While you'd begrudgingly admit that you’ve enjoyed the conversation thus far, you’re pleasantly surprised at how easy it is to simply enjoy the serene feeling of sharing Nayeon's company. In fact, the silence grants you a brief chance to study the countenance of your dining companion, and you’re more than happy to seize the opportunity.

It seems that the only thing sharper than her words is her jawline, which is itself a sharp contrast from her other, softer features. As much as you wish you could stare back into her eyes once more, her downward gaze and focus on her phone makes doing so impossible, "forcing" you instead to focus on her lips, which she occasionally bites in frustration, causing your heart to swell in a way that feels unsafe yet anything but unnatural.

"Enjoying the view?"

Well shit.

Your eyes barely have to drift upwards to meet her gaze, where her eyes await you once more with a scrutinizing yet intrigued twinkle. While only moments ago you were wishing you could stare into her eyes once more, the combination of the intensity of her stare and your embarrassment forces you to look down in shame as you meekly mutter a quiet apology.

"Nah, you're not getting off that easily," Nayeon says, setting aside her phone and leaning in. "What'd you think? And please do be honest. You wouldn’t want to break your promise, would you?"

After only a moment's hesitation, you stare back into her eyes and open the floodgates.

"Well, it's only been a couple minutes, but I've decided that I love the way your hair glows like golden honey in this light, I'm pretty sure your jawline is sharp enough to cut through diamond, and I'm definitely sure that if you keep biting your lip the way you do whenever you're focused or frustrated or whatever that I'm going to be too dizzy to walk home."

“...”

tick...

“Oh.”

tock...

The raucous atmosphere of the shop seems to once again fade away as you intently hold the gaze of the girl you recently met but feel like you’ve known forever. You can’t shake this odd sense of familiarity, like you had seen her before somewhere, but can’t quite put your finger on where.

Regardless, by this point, the silence between you has stretched to an uncomfortable length of time. After bearing it a moment longer as you attempt to gather your resolve, you ask, "So, uh, what do you think? I mean, I'd also prefer it if you were honest, but I don't have a promise to hold you to, so I guess I'll just have to settle for asking nicely and hoping for the best?"

Your follow-up seems to finally shock Nayeon out of her reverie, leading her to finally pick her jaw up off the floor and respond, "I mean, okay, good to know. A little much, not gonna lie, but keep talking like that and I might have to let you keep doing what you're doing. Can’t say I hate the attention."

She pauses for a moment, allowing her eyes to run across your upper body before meeting your gaze once more and adding, "And hey, you're not too rough on the eyes either."

tick...

Only a single serene second slips by as you hold each other's gaze before you see inspiration flash across her visage. The glimmer in her eyes is quickly joined by a familiar smirk as she glances down to your lips before returning to look you in the eyes.

Then she steals your heart.

Again.

With that unreasonably sultry lip bite.

Again.

"And I thought the cold was going to be the reason I died tonight," you whisper, quietly enough that only she could hear.

Just in case she hadn't yet properly staked her claim on your heart, Nayeon responds with potentially the only thing more charming than her lip bites; her laughter, which once again resonates across the table directly through your eardrums, across your inner bridge, and into your heart.

You open your mouth, hoping to continue the conversation further, but find yourself abruptly cut off by a sudden series of discordant cacophonies as her phone vibrates harshly against the wooden table. You watch on in poorly hidden dismay as she checks it and her mirthful expression transforms into a grimace at the messages' contents.

"Ugh, I need to get back to my place," she explains as she begins to gather her things.

"Oh, okay," you sigh. "Thanks again for letting me sit with you and for the … mostly pleasant conversation."

Her frown fades, revealing hints of the smile hidden within. "Sure, no problem. I'm sure Ms. Kim would have wanted me dead if she heard I mistreated her other major source of income."

You can’t help but chuckle at her words, though the laughter feels cheerless in the face of more pressing concerns. "Am I going to see you again?"

Her eyes stare into your own once more, piercing through to your core. "Who knows? We've been coming to this shop as frequently as we have for as long as we have for who knows how long and haven't run into each other until now. Who's to say it won't take another couple of years until our paths cross again?"

And with that sobering perspective, the girl you’ve come to know as Nayeon stands, giving you only the slightest nod in farewell before stepping away from the table. You watch her as she takes her first few steps, feeling your heart sink lower and lower as the distance between you grows larger and larger.

tock...

But suddenly, you almost swear you can see a lightbulb go off above her head, causing her to turn and walk back to the table.

"You know, I never did catch your name," Nayeon remarks casually.

Despite the exhilaration of your heart soaring at her return, you try to maintain a neutral expression as you reply, "Perfect, now we both have a reason to meet again."

While it might just be your imagination, you dare to hope that it’s your words that transform her sly smirk into a genuine smile that reaches her eyes.

"Oh yeah? What's your reason?"

"Who said I only have one?"

With her curiosity sated and ego sufficiently inflated, Nayeon gives you a small smile as a farewell, then turns and walks out of the ramen shop. And as the clock ticks ever onward and you sit alone at the table, pondering what impact this night might have on the rest of your life, you can only hope that she hasn’t walked away for the final time.

tick...

tock...

tick...

tock...

It really was bearable the first couple of days.

But the days turned to weeks and the weeks turned to months and the months began to feel like years. And as time mercilessly continues to pass by, you unsurprisingly find yourself increasingly affected by the thought of her.

You realized something was seriously wrong when entire weeks began to blur together and each visit to the ramen shop left you feeling colder and lonelier than your previous visit. It isn’t long before the intrusive thoughts remodel your mind and claim it as their own, leaving you wondering if you had lost your love for your favorite restaurant and your best chance at love in a single night. Despite the depressing potential of those dramatic notions, you attempt to cast them aside, instead focusing your efforts on maintaining your previous routine and, more importantly, meeting Nayeon again.

Since you assume Aunt Kim will rat you out to Nayeon if you’re too desperate in your attempts, you choose a more subtle approach. Instead of showing up every night, you alter your schedule to better fit hers. The awkward “middle” shifts at your work are rarely prioritized, so you’re easily able to make the change and justify your abnormally late arrivals to the shop.

However, your efforts fall short, leaving you wanting, craving even a glimpse of the radiant smile that graces your dreams far more often than you’d readily admit. And even though you desperately want to ask Aunt Kim if she’s even seen Nayeon, you’re well aware that outside assistance would break the unspoken rules of the game. So, even as your heart yearns for her, you choose to continue playing. Even in the face of defeat, you persevere.

All the while, a nagging feeling remains in the back of your mind. Though you can’t figure out why, you’re sure you know her from somewhere. The passage of time allows that nagging to fester, growing exponentially until it becomes all you can think about.

It’s not long before the pressure becomes unbearable, forcing you to cave. Nayeon’s a fairly popular name, but luckily, you’re able to fall back on her nickname of “Nana”. Thus, on a day that’s become your new norm, you dedicate part of your shift to searching through Naver pages, eventually finding what you’ve been looking for. Kind of.

You find that she’s the main dancer and leader of a girl group named woo!ah!, one of the seemingly endless number of new K-Pop groups that’ve slipped under your radar. As you scroll through the pages and watch video after video, you unsurprisingly enjoy their music, yet feel a sense of unease grow with each passing video. You’d expected feelings of excitement and joy to burst forth with each of Nayeon’s appearances, but instead you’re met by dread, trepidation, and a plethora of other unpleasant emotions that you can’t identify amidst the maelstrom rampaging in your heart.

You finish their MV playlist depressingly quickly, finding far more questions than answers at the end of this rainbow. Unfortunately, before you can reach a satisfying conclusion, the clock strikes twelve and begins to sing, signaling the end of your shift. After packing up your things, you depart, and, following a short bus ride, you arrive at the intersection where you turn right to visit the noodle shop once again.

And an hour later, after you’ve stood in line, placed your order, found somewhere to sit, enjoyed your meal, and looked over every square millimeter of the room, you find yourself alone.

Once.

Again.

tick...

tock...

Seemingly a moment later, you’re surprised to find yourself at home. You rationalize that your body must have moved on its own and your brain must not have cared to encode the memory of walking this familiar path, but even this explanation leaves you with serious concerns. As you reach into your pocket and feel the warmth from your fingers being sapped by the key’s cold metal, you simply feel … tired.

What’s the point of changing your routine if your days are bound to end the same as always?

What’s the point of searching for warmth if you continue to be left alone in the cold?

What’s the point of listening to your heart if all it leads you to is the deafening silence of your empty apartment?

You can feel it in the air as you turn the key, open the door, and enter the suffocating silence of your apartment. The air’s cold. Heavy. The room’s dark. Empty. And you’re sure. Ready. As much as your heart yearns to chase Nayeon, your mind is telling you that it’s time. Time to return to the routine you’ve relied on for so, so long. You begin by sending a quick email to your supervisor, requesting a change back to your previous schedule. Then, after a few more hours that won’t be worth remembering, you willingly wade into the darkness.

You mourn the loss of what could have been. You allow the clouds to roll in, allow the falling rain to drown out the sounds of your heart beating against its cage and its cries for freedom. You pray that the storm will wash away the memories of that night. You hope, as desperately as ever, that you’ll find her. But if your heart can’t have what it wants, you’ll ask your mind to forget her.

tick…..

tock.

tick…..

tock.

Is it eight days later? Nine days? Ten? Your memory might have failed you again, but routine provides you necessary stability once more, helping you through the motions of working the once familiar morning shift before guiding you through the short bus ride to your stop and the subsequent walk to an always familiar intersection and a newly unwelcome decision.

If you simply continue forwards, you’ll arrive at your apartment, where you know that leftovers and loneliness amidst the silence of solitude awaits. However, if routine truly is still in the driver’s seat, you’ll turn to your right, towards Aunt Kim’s, where you know that ramen and loneliness amidst the voices of others awaits.

Thus, despite the clear blue sky and the bright sun that signaled the early signs of winter’s departure, decision paralysis sets in. The light flashes yellow, yet you need to decide, now. Then, it flashes red, yet you know you need to go. Finally, the indicator flashes green, yet you remain motionless as the crowd begins to surge past you.

It’s there, in that moment, where you stop fighting anxiety’s powerful pull, allowing it to drag you under, away from your routine. It’s there, in that moment, where you give up, instead electing to return home. Yet, it’s there, in that moment, where you feel a gentle tug on your arm and see a flash of warm golden light in your periphery.

"Come on, you gotta get there before it gets busy," Nayeon whispers, mock urgency masking her features and veiling her words. "Otherwise, you might have to ask some weirdo if you can share a table with them."

You’re all too eager to allow yourself to be dragged along, heart nearly bursting out of your chest as you loudly exclaim, “Nayeon! I—”

Your words are a jumbled mess, bouncing around the inside of your skull, desperately trying to escape all at once, but you hold them all back as the other pedestrians turn, glaring at you as they judge your sudden outburst. Once you finish offering meek smiles and apologetic waves, you whisper back, “You’re right, that sounds terrible! Let’s go!”

As she continues to drag you along, you take the opportunity to study the beaming visage of your guide once more. The passage of time allows you to view the literal girl of your dreams in a new light, and you find Nayeon’s just as radiant in today’s pleasant sunshine as she was so many weeks ago, hidden away from the harsh snowfalls of the early Korean winter.

"What should I say?" you wonder to yourself as you allow her to lead you down the busy sidewalk. "Would it be too forward to say I missed her after only meeting her once before?"

A familiar cadence, the ringing of a very particular bell, cuts your internal musings short, shunting you back into reality as Nayeon opens the door to Aunt Kim's ramen shop. Nayeon finally detaches from your arm, leaving you feeling cold and empty. Not unlike your freezer that fateful night, so many months ago.

After shaking off the last remnants of your reverie, you step forward and join her in line. Despite being a fair bit taller than her, you can’t seem to make out what exactly she’s doing on her phone as you both wait to place your order.

It only takes a few moments of snooping before a wave of guilt washes over you as you realize your invasion of her privacy, causing you to shift your gaze elsewhere, to other areas of the shop. Areas such as the table where you had sat the previous time, which currently sits unoccupied.

"Another missed opportunity," you think to yourself as you grieve the lost potential and come to another realization. "Not to mention the fact that she held the door for me because I was so lost in thought! Ugh, you're blowing it! Stop overthinking everything."

After a few short minutes idly spent looking anywhere except towards Nayeon, all of the customers in line in front of you finish placing their orders and go to find a seat. You aren’t surprised as Nayeon needs mere moments to recite her clearly well-practiced offer, but you are caught off guard when Aunt Kim leans close to Nayeon, whispering something you can’t make out amidst the low murmur of the crowd inhabiting your second home.

The rational part of your brain informs you that, at most, a few seconds pass. Your emotions tell a far different story, flooding your overwrought mind with a deluge of disquieting dangers and forcing you to consider each of the painful possibilities and worst-case scenarios that comprise the tsunami attempting to drag you into the depths of self-doubt. Eventually, the two part, and as Nayeon turns to face you, her mischievous expression and gleaming smile ignites a flame in you, burning away any frost that’s formed since you left her embrace.

Her eyes flick over towards Aunt Kim, seemingly challenging you to approach the elderly woman who stands behind the counter with crossed arms and a dangerously amused expression. This time, however, Nayeon doesn’t even give your words enough time to get caught in your throat, instead simply walking past you and allowing the silky strands of her hair to brush your shoulder and convey all the intent she needs to.

As you gather what little cognitive function remains, you’re especially grateful for the familiarity of this place as Aunt Kim enters your order with well-practiced quickness. You’re uncharacteristically afraid of meeting her eyes as you sign your name and begin to enter the same generous tip you’ve always given, but her scoff of indignation as you meekly hold out your hand for your order number forces you to do so.

"So." she says bluntly, withholding the plastic indicator as she awaits your response.

"Yes ma’am?” you ask, voice laced with saccharine innocence.

“Oh gods, don’t tell me that that girl’s stubbornness has infected you too,” Aunt Kim responds exasperatedly. “You finally managed to meet up with her again, eh?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you respond as you delete your previous number, instead entering an extra-large tip before braving Aunt Kim’s gaze once more, silently conveying your plea for mercy as you literally attempt to buy her silence.

Aunt Kim’s eyes flash down briefly, widening for a moment before a deep, jovial laugh echoes out from her, reverberating throughout the room as she holds your gaze once more.

“All right, act sly all you like. I'm just tired of seeing someone come in alone fifty times in a row just to spend their time here hoping and searching for a certain someone.”

The banter is unique, odd, and comfortably routine as you ease into its familiar warmth. Your brow arches dramatically as you declare, “Why Aunt Kim, I can’t stand these accusations! It’s only been forty-six times since then!”

You watch as Aunt Kim’s smile fades, shifting from a display of mirth to a thin obfuscation of sadness as she responds, “You’re not the only one who’s been sitting alone at a table for two. Now go!”

And as she pushes your number into your hands and sends your mind into a tailspin, you’re left with no other option but to turn and allow the next customer to set up. Your body’s autopilot takes over, turning you further until you face the table where this all started, only to find it occupied.

By none other than Nayeon herself.

You lock eyes for the briefest of moments before she avoids your gaze, poorly pretending to be enthralled by the black screen of her phone. As the slightest hints of confidence begin to emerge from within, you walk up to the table, acting as casually as you can, pulling out a chair and taking a seat across from her.

After offering up a prayer to whoever’s listening, desperately hoping that you wouldn’t blow this chance, you look straight at her and ask, “So, how have you been?”

“Oh, so we’re just getting right into it, huh?” Nayeon asks, already crafting the thin veneer of the haughtiness she’d used to shield herself before. “Not even going to thank me for saving you a seat? I know you’ve had issues finding them before.”

You raise your hands up in mock surrender as you admit, “Alright, fair enough. I am very grateful for your act of charity once again, and I’ll be sure to make it up to you.”

“I’m glad to see you’ve come to your senses,” she declares, obvious satisfaction in her smirk as she nods in approval. “To answer your question, I’ve been fortunate enough to be busy, so that’s always good. Aside from work, I guess it’s mostly just been working out, spending time with those I’m closest to, and coming here. What about you?”

“I’ve …” your voice trails off for a moment, granting you silence as you meticulously craft your next line. “I’ve had better months, but I honestly can’t complain too much. Work’s been consistent, so like you said, that’s always good. Plus, I always have this place to come back to, so that’s a big plus.”

“So, you come here often?” Nayeon asks, waggling her eyebrows in the most tropey, dramatic way possible. It’s clearly meant to be humorous, and you’re all too eager to reward her efforts with a smile. You just also hope it buys you time to reclaim the breath she steals so easily.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," you say, chuckling slightly as you struggle against all the unwelcome thoughts and emotions that continuously threaten to boil over. "Especially the past couple of months, I'm fairly sure I've made a sizeable contribution to the 'Kim Family College Fund'. What about you, have you also been a generous donor?"

And there it is. For the first time since that night a lifetime ago, your words strike a chord, and your just reward is the melodious laughter that bursts free from the alluring lips of Nayeon before gently drifting across the table and imprinting itself once again upon your soul. And all you can wonder is why you’d ever choose to stop chasing her.

After the briefest of stanzas, her mirthful song quiets and her words shift to a whisper. "Listen, if my friends ever find out just how often I've been coming here and how much I've spent, it’ll be the last day I see the sun! So shhh!"

The quiet laugh that resonates out straight from your heart may not be planned or voluntary, but anyone paying a modicum of attention can easily tell it’s genuine. You feel free, weightless even, to an extent you haven’t felt since a certain night so many weeks ago. And as you savor this moment of warmth, of dethawing even, you’re glad to see that same joy mirrored in the eyes and smile of Nayeon too.

"Alright, fair enough. Not a word to your friends, and you won't rat me out to mine? Deal?"

"Deal!" she responds eagerly, extending her hand out to shake yours.

Without hesitation, you reach out and seal the pact, cherishing the influx of warmth generated by even the swiftest second of your fingertips grazing the soft skin of her palm.

But then, just like that, it’s gone. The briefest moment of contact ends all too soon, and you find yourself in silence once more.

Fortunately, this time it doesn’t last, as Nayeon speaks up once more.

"So … any particular reason you've been around more often recently?" she asks as she looks around in a familiar pattern, seemingly fascinated by the decorations of the place she must have visited hundreds of times.

"I might have a reason," you respond suavely as you lean back in your chair. "Maybe even a couple."

"Oh yeah?" she asks, ending her search as she reaches her destination: your eyes. "Pardon my vanity, but is there any chance … I’m one of those reasons?"

In this moment, this secular moment of confession, this seductress needs no lip bites nor any promises of sweet nothings to ensnare your heart even further. All you need is to look into her eyes, where you see the same earnest anticipation mirrored within your own soul.

So, in this moment, you give yourself no time to second guess yourself, acting on pure instinct as you take out your heart, affix it to your sleeve in full view of everyone within the restaurant, and admit, "Yeah, I mean, you’re the only reason that mattered. I guess … I was scared of the thought of never seeing you again. I really missed you."

tick...

Another moment passes. But this stretch of silence is far shorter than the last and her response is far quicker than last time you’d shared a confession. This time, it’s her words that shock you.

"Thanks, I … uh, really missed you too," she whispers softly, perhaps trying to preserve the serenity of this moment between the two of you.

tock...

Milliseconds begin to feel like minutes as you desperately rack your brain, searching for an adequate continuation to the conversation. Fortunately, just as desperation tips over into despair, none other than Aunt Kim comes to your rescue, carrying a pair of bowls in her hands and a complicated collection of emotions across her countenance.

First, she offers Nayeon her warm bowl with an even warmer smile, which Nayeon is happy to return in kind. Then, just as you recover from being blinded by Nayeon’s radiance, Aunt Kim turns to you, deliberately holding back your bowl as she offers nothing but a quirked eyebrow and an expectant expression.

You raise your hands in surrender once more, internally cursing the developing trend as you ask, “What, Miss Aunt Kim, could you possibly be expecting from me? Ma’am.”

You aren’t sure if it’s your sheepish expression or Aunt Kim’s sigh of exasperation that sparks it, but whatever semblance of a train of thought you’d begun crafting is sent careening off the rails by the return of that same singsong laughter that’s lifted your spirits up from the depths they’d plummeted to.

While Nayeon continues her chorus of joy, you watch as Aunt Kim’s frosty exterior thaws, causing her to gently place the bowl in your hands before pulling away just the slightest bit.

“I’m just glad things finally lined up,” Aunt Kim says with a knowing smile and another ruffling of your hair that earns another round of laughter from Nayeon.

Finally, that last embarrassment inflicted, Aunt Kim elects to leave you in peace.

After months of waiting, the culmination of all your fantasies is … a conversation. About nothing. About everything. About your job as an editor at a K-Pop news / blog site and how the recent schedule change left you saddled with a writer who’d recently gotten in trouble for “not including all the members when describing a group’s latest comeback” or something. About her job as an idol and the years of struggle and the stress of debuting and her relationships with her members and fan interactions and on and on and on.

It’s the most mundane human experience you’ve ever had, but it’s warm. It lasts from your usual arrival time until Nayeon’s usual time of departure, yet time seems to pass by in an instant. It’s nothing you would have expected yet everything you could possibly ask for, like a waking dream. It’s almost unfathomable how much you enjoy yourself.

It also has to end.

“Hey,” Nayeon says suddenly, allowing her voice to soften. “The shop’s closing soon.”

“Oh, right,” you say, feeling your smile fade for the first time in hours.

“We should, uh …”

“Yeah, let’s—”

“Yeah.”

The dusty old chairs creak against the stained floorboards of the shop as you both slowly slide them back, hoping that your sluggish movements will elongate this experience. Each of you bids farewell to Aunt Kim in your own special way, then turn to depart. And as you open the door for her and the brisk evening wind leaves you scrambling for the right words, it’s Nayeon who finds her courage first.

“We’ll be performing next Saturday,” she begins, speaking just loud enough for her words to reach your ears before the cruel winds can whisk them away. “I understand if you’re busy, but—”

“I’ll be there.”

And just as the door closes and you put forth your promise, the jingle of the bells and Nayeon’s relieved laughter join in harmony, creating a melody that wraps itself around you and promises to protect you from the cold.

“I haven’t even told you where it is yet!” she exclaims, meeting your eyes once more.

“Then I should probably give you my number, no?” you counter, holding her gaze as she looks back with the softest eyes and warmest smile.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Nayeon says, eagerly pulling out her phone and handing it to you.

You quickly punch in the digits and hand it back to her, earning a frown in response.

“What is it?”

“You still haven’t told me your name.”

So, you tell her. And she repeats it back to you. And it’s no surprise that the sound of your name in her mouth is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. And you’re still reeling from that when she texts you, “Hi it’s me!🐇”. And when you finally manage to tear your eyes from the screen, you’re met with the sight of her meekly looking down at the sidewalk below.

“Hey,” you say softly, giving her a moment to meet your eyes before opening your arms. “You—”

Your words don’t even have a chance to be whisked away by the cruel winds before Nayeon darts over and crashes into your chest, driving the air from your lungs as she wraps her arms around you. Instinctually, you wrap your own arms around her, holding her close and refusing to let go.

“Stay warm, okay?” you whisper, only for her ears.

“I think I’ll be just fine,” she whispers back, just as softly.

And it’s hard when you two untangle yourselves. And it’s harder to say goodbye. And it’s nearly impossible to turn away. But it’s easy to turn back and look at her. And you see Nayeon walking, no, almost skipping away down the sidewalk. And you know that the months-long wait was worth it. And the next ten days will feel like a decade.

But that’ll be worth the wait too.

tick…

tock…

tick…

tock…

This time, you know exactly how long it’s been. You’ve checked the clock every hour of the past ten days, desperately awaiting the chance to see her again. Absolutely dreading the thought of seeing her again.

Your anxiety certainly isn’t helped by the sea of lightsticks and legions of chanting fans wielding them. Amidst this squall of rabid passion, you can’t help but feel underprepared. You can’t help but feel nervous. You can’t help but feel insignificant.

Fortunately, by the time you’re able to make your way up closer to the front, the performances have started and begun to wash away some of that negativity. You lose yourself in the stages, showing support to these young adults, these kids, who’re giving everything they have to try and achieve their dreams. It really is an enjoyable way to spend an afternoon.

Yet your throat still dries up when you hear them announce who’s performing next. All of a sudden, the room floods, dragging you under; the blood rushes in, waves deafening you.

tick…

They come out on stage.

tock…

Your eyes can’t look anywhere else.

tick… tock…

“Nana” says something that you can’t hear.

tick…tock…

They get in position. tick..tock..tick.. They begin. ticktockticktockticktocktick

And then, just like that, it’s over. The performance ends and the group bids the crowd farewell, leaving you with far fewer thoughts than you anticipated but far more emotions than you’re prepared for. At the forefront of your mind, a singular idea, the catalyst of the storm, reverberates incessantly with a single realization.

Nayeon’s eyes didn't meet yours a single time throughout the whole performance, yet she spent the entire time smiling brighter than you’ve ever seen.

You somehow manage to stumble through the crowd, moving towards an exit as they roar in excitement at the announcement of the next performers, a group you’ve followed since debut and one you like quite a lot. A group that doesn’t matter.

It’s only once you get outside, once you’re able to take a moment amidst the early evening air, that your breathing begins to slow. It’s there that the blood pumping in your ears begins to settle. It’s there that the vibration on your leg nearly makes you jump out of your skin. But once you nail the three-point landing, you pull out your phone and read the new message:

Nayeon 🐇 (6:02pm): Hey, were you able to make it? I just peeked my head out but couldn’t find you anywhere.

You (6:03pm): I did! Sorry, I just stepped outside after watching your performance, needed some air

You (6:03pm): You guys were great!

Nayeon🐇 (6:03pm): Awww, thanks so much!!

Nayeon🐇 (6:03pm): You should come around the back, I wanna introduce you to everyone!

Nayeon🐇 (6:04pm): Meet me at door E35, I’ll let you in

You (6:06pm): Sure, I’m on my way

You hit send, finally responding after needing a minute to calm the upswell of sanguine tides that continue to thrash within. Your steps are heavy, echoing loudly throughout the packed parking lot and even louder in your mind as you begin discerning which feelings surround this storm’s catalyst.

The unfamiliar feeling doesn’t remind you of the anxiety you’ve faced before, nor does it remind you of the self-doubt you’ve suffered in your past. No, when you round the corner to see Nayeon’s head poking out the door, looking for you, and you hear the crowd’s thunderous applause, you know exactly which ugly emotion torments you. And despite having no right to feel the way you do, you know that jealousy gnaws at your core.

So, when Nayeon turns and locks eyes with you, you hope your smile shows delight, not despair. And while you don’t quite match the radiance of her reaction, you’re inviting enough for her to throw open the door and begin dashing towards you. Fortunately, your limbs seem to have higher priorities than jealousy, as you too begin closing the distance and opening your arms, meeting her halfway and tightly wrapping your arms around her as she does the same to you.

Your ability to string together sentences escapes you as you hold her close, feeling her heartbeat hammer against your chest at as rapid a pace as your own.

“We should do this more often,” Nayeon murmurs into your chest.

“I mean, sure, I’d be happy to come support your group any time I’m not—”

“No, not that!” she exclaims, giggling slightly as she pulls away just enough to look up at you. “I mean this.”

And she pulls you in even tighter, leaving you short of breath in more ways than one.

“But also, thank you for coming to see us perform. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” you say, heart penning your words before your brain can intervene. “Anything for you.”

“Anything?” Nayeon asks incredulously, finally breaking the hug as the mischievous glint in her eye returns. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I stand by my word,” you respond, acting far more confidently than you truly feel. “Besides, how dangerous could you possibly be?”

“Are you looking to find out?” she asks, smiling deviously as you see the turning gears in her head shift into overdrive.

“Maybe one day,” you say with a shrug. “Must admit, it’s not high on my list of priorities though.”

“Oh yeah? What’s number one?”

“Why spoil the surprise? Gotta keep you coming back somehow.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as Nayeon scoffs in response. “Yeah, like that’s a concern.”

“I, uh, thanks?” you sputter, unable to do anything further as the mechanisms of your mind malfunction.

“Oh!” she exclaims, face alight with merriment and mischief alike. “You are in danger.”

All you can do is shrug. Why try to hide what you both know to be true? Why not join her in laughter instead?

“Hey,” you say a few seconds later as you catch a brief glimpse of your breath in the air. “We should get you inside, it's too cold for you to be out here in a sleeveless top and those ‘shorts’.”

“What do you mean?” Nayeon asks incredulously. “I think my stylist absolutely nailed it today.”

“Yeah, like anything you wear could look bad,” you scoff. “I'm just worried about you turning into a popsicle.”

“Oh? I guess I'll just have to find someone to keep me warm,” she drawls as she walks back to the door. “You wouldn't mind, would you?”

“Of course not.”

“Of course not,” she repeats, flashing the smallest of smirks your way before turning back and stepping up to the door. “Anything for me, right?”

“I mean …” you begin to say. Unfortunately, your train of thought is brought to a screeching halt by the rather rude sound of the unmoving door handle within Nayeon’s grasp.

“Wonderful,” Nayeon says, exasperation coating her words as she runs her fingers through her hair. “And on the one day I forgot to charge my phone too.”

“You can borrow mine,” you offer, reaching into your pocket and holding it out to her. “Can you call someone inside who can open it?”

“Yes, I can!” she says, eagerly accepting your offer and taking your phone. “Give me a second, I'll see if Wooyeon's willing to help.”

A few moments later, after she's punched in the numbers and the phone's begun to ring, she looks up with that same cheeky smile she wears so frequently around you.

“Guess you're stuck with me a bit longer,” she dramatically declares.

“Woe is me,” you respond in kind, pressing the back of your hand to your forehead like you're about to faint.

Nayeon opens her mouth to fire back, but her reply is superseded by a muffled, vaguely familiar voice emanating out from the speaker.

“Hey, it's me,” she remarks casually, as if calling someone from a random number is a totally normal thing to do. “I need—”

She stops mid-sentence, seemingly allowing the person on the other end to voice their apparently substantial list of frustrations at Nayeon.

“Yeah, I, uh, sorry about slipping away like that,” Nayeon replies sheepishly as her cheeks flare in an entirely new way. “It's a very long story that I very much don't want to get into tonight, but can you please come open door E35? I might have locked myself out.”

It's a tense few moments of silence before Nayeon gets a response. What you assume to merely be a few words at most still manages to shock Nayeon, leaving her wide eyed as she responds, “That's a lot to ask for just—”

Her words are suddenly cut off by what you assume to be Wooyeon's response, causing Nayeon to roll her eyes in resignation before responding, “Okay! Sure, fine. Both rooms, before the performance on Wednesday. Got it.”

“Alright, see you soon,” she continues. “And Wooyeon? Thank you.”

“Here, thanks for letting me borrow that,” Nayeon says, handing you back your phone.

“Of course,” you respond. “What were you two arguing about?”

“Honestly it was more bargaining than arguing,” Nayeon groans, throwing her head back in frustration. “A trade I horribly lost, mind you. Apparently in her mind, a three-minute walk is worth me having to clean both bedrooms at the dorms.”

“That seems … harsh,” you say, earning a shrug in response.

The silence goes unbroken for a minute. Then another. But when it's finally broken, it's not by words, but the chattering of teeth. Hers.

Fortunately, your movements are so instinctual that by the time your brain has even begun to consider overthinking things, you've already taken off your jacket and wrapped it around her. Nayeon’s shivering swiftly slows, but you leave your arm wrapped around her. Just in case.

tick…

tock…

It ends up being ten minutes, not three, that you share in silence. Not that either of you notice or care.

As soon as you hear the handle begin to turn, you immediately pull away, earning the smallest of whines from Nayeon before she too hears the door opening and turns towards it.

“There you are!” both girls exclaim as you see one of the other members from the earlier performance poke her head out.

“What took you so long?” Nayeon asks. “I thought it'd take four minutes max to find us.”

“Listen, we can discuss whether or not I got lost once you get inside,” Wooyeon huffs in response. “Come on, it's freezing out here!”

“You're telling me,” you mutter, causing Nayeon to quietly chuckle as she looks up at you with wide, apology-filled eyes.

You both follow Wooyeon inside, where Nayeon introduces you to one another and informs Wooyeon that she had invited you. After an exchange of slightly awkward bows, Wooyeon speaks up.

“Okay, so this story involves you and a guy, alone, in the middle of a parking lot on a dark and stormy evening? I don't care how long it is, you're telling me everything.”

“I … fine. We can talk on the drive back,” Nayeon begrudgingly accepts.

“Good. Speaking of, we should head back. Now, preferably. They're probably waiting on us,” Wooyeon says, shooting you a sympathetic glance.

“Hey, it's alright,” you tell Nayeon as she turns to look at you. “I'm just glad I got to see you. The performance and everything else were just icing on the cake.”

“Everything else, huh?” Wooyeon asks, seemingly more invested suddenly. “How late is this story going to keep me up?”

“Oh relax,” Nayeon scoffs, shaking her head at Wooyeon's instigation attempts.

“But seriously,” she says to you. “Thanks for being understanding.”

“Also, thanks for this,” Nayeon continues, smirking at you as she points to your jacket.

“Of course,” you immediately respond. “Anything for you.”

You watch as Nayeon’s cheeky expression morphs into confusion, like your response was outside the rules of the game you’re both playing.

“I, uh, thanks?” she sputters. But that confusion doesn't last, and a warm smile is quick to replace it.

“Here then,” she murmurs, closing the distance between you two quicker than you're able to respond. “This is for you.”

And there's a lot of small details that you'll forget in hindsight. Like the way Nayeon stands up on her tiptoes, or how she tilts her head just the slightest bit, or even the glittery eyeshadow that gleams in the light. But there's one detail you'll remember. Because you'll never forget the feeling of her soft lips against your cheek.

You can't help but hate the moment she pulls away. But when she locks eyes with you, you're brave enough to hope that you'll feel that sensation again.

“Bye,” she whispers.

“Bye.”

“...”

“Bye?” Wooyeon says, offering you a slightly awkward wave as you turn to face her.

You look back to Nayeon, and neither of you can help but laugh at Wooyeon's shell-shocked expression. One theatrical sigh and an eye roll later, Wooyeon turns and begins to walk away.

“Bye Wooyeon!” you call out at the retreating form. “Hopefully next time we meet, it'll be a little more normal!”

“Hard not to be!” she calls back, earning another duet of laughter from you and Nayeon.

“I should probably follow her,” Nayeon says. “We're performing Wednesday night, so I guess I'll see you at the shop on Thursday? Unless you—”

“I'll be there,” you say, fighting back the jealous feelings that surge up at the thought of her performing again.

“You're the best,” she says, throwing her arms around you for the briefest of moments before turning and hurriedly following Wooyeon. “I'll text you the location!”

“Sounds good, see you there!” you call out in response. You can't help but feel glued to the floor as you watch her walk away, remaining motionless until she rounds a corner and leaves you alone in the hallway.

An odd mix of emotions twirls around your mind as you depart the building. Many of them, the vast majority even, are undeniably positive. But voices, ones eerily similar to those found in the fanchants from earlier, echo in the back of your mind and entrench those unshakable feelings of jealousy.

But even as the bus takes you away and you pray to reach home before the rain begins to fall, you know that this inner storm isn't one you can outrun.

tick…

tock…

tick…

tock…

You hope that you’re as good at hiding your emotions as you think you are. Because the way you feel when you’re with Nayeon, your friend, when you’re both excitedly talking a little louder than you should be and occasionally have to pause the conversation to apologize to the other customers nearby, it’s euphoric. It’s exhilarating. It’s everything you could have ever dreamed of and more.

And it could not be more different than the way you feel when you’re with “Nana”, the idol. Because you should still feel that euphoria, that elation. You have no reason not to, especially since Nayeon acts the same way, even going so far as to find time somewhere in her crazy schedule when you two can meet. The joy you find in those moments should be enough. But your jealousy proves gluttonous, leaving you with an awful feeling in the pit of your stomach that grows harder to ignore. It’s inescapable. It’s everything you can’t control threatening to take away everything you hold dear.

And you haven’t the slightest fucking clue what to do.

Unfortunately, the tempest doesn’t give you much time to find a solution before boiling over. It’s only a couple of weeks and a handful of performances later when Nayeon pulls you into a small alcove hidden amongst the towers of sound equipment and piles of wires. Almost immediately, she begins sharing a story about a fan interaction, further fanning the flames of the ugly side of your emotions.

It’s not long before you’re overwhelmed by the turbulent emotions within. Nayeon’s in the middle of a sentence when you lean in, cupping her cheek in one hand as you press your lips against hers. You kiss her gently at first, but after her initial shock, she begins to kiss you back. Firmly. Insistently. You let the sounds of the nearby stage abate, allowing yourself to instead lose yourself in the only senses that matter right now.

Like how the smell of her conditioner reminds you of coconuts and cherry blossoms. Or how she tastes sweeter than honey. Or how her lips are somehow softer than clouds.

You pull away only once oxygen deprivation forces you to, leaving you both staring at each other as you desperately attempt to catch your breath.

“I’m so sorry,” you say as soon as you’re able to. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Nayeon interjects. “Shut up and kiss me again.”

This time, she catches you off-guard as she leans in, pulling your head down slightly as she kisses you with as much intensity as before, if not more. You’re more than willing to match her zeal, eliciting murmurs of satisfaction and small gasps for air from her as you battle back and forth.

It’s intense. It’s electrifying. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and—

“There you are—oh!”

You and Nayeon hastily separate and turn to face the unexpected spectator, finding none other than poor Wooyeon and her shell-shocked expression awaiting you once again.

“Wooyeon?! I, you, we, uh …” Nana says, trailing off mid-sentence as she steps away from you and attempts the futile task of trying to return her hair to some semblance of normalcy.

“We have to figure out a better way for you to introduce me to your friends,” you tell Nana, earning a stare of disbelief from her and an unexpected bit of melodious laughter from Wooyeon.

“You seriously do!” Wooyeon exclaims, fanning her face in an attempt to disperse the crimson flooding her cheeks. “Honestly, I hate that they keep sending me to find you two, why can't it be Sora getting traumatized for once?”

“Because they know you're way too good at finding things for your own good, especially us apparently,” Nayeon says, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.

“Oh, don't worry! I won't tell …” Wooyeon trails off for a moment, looking at Nayeon slyly. “Too many people.”

“Hey!” Nayeon exclaims. “Be careful what you wish for, I'm sure plenty of people would be interested in my stories about you.”

“That wasn't what I'd hoped to hear, but you can write me an apology later,” Wooyeon fires back, turning her head away from Nayeon to hide the red that refuses to leave her cheeks. “I hate to do this again, but we really do need to get going.”

Nayeon's indignation seems to flare even further as she steps closer to Wooyeon, but you can't help but chuckle at the image of the shorter Nayeon attempting to intimidate the much taller Wooyeon. Nayeon spares a moment to glare at you before turning back to Wooyeon and saying, “Listen, I'm sure we can—”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you interject. “I’m sure we’ll have time to talk later, right Nayeon?”

“Oh sure, I’m positive that she’ll have plenty of time for a lovely conversation later,” Wooyeon comments, earning a glare from Nayeon that’d likely be scathing if not for the obvious embarrassment coloring her countenance.

“Hey, not so loud!” you jest, smiling just as wide as Wooyeon. “Seriously though, I really am sorry Wooyeon. I’ll make it up to you sometime, hopefully next time I see you. Surely next time we meet it’ll be more normal, right? Surely?”

“Suuurrrelyyyy,” Wooyeon responds, stringing out the single word just long enough to fit every emotion other than sincerity into its delivery. She takes the opportunity to step away from Nayeon, who seems temporarily frozen between states of frustration, embarrassment, and something else entirely.

“Hey, no worries,” you gently tell Nayeon, taking her hands in your own and turning her to face you. “Your members need you.”

“Besides, you should probably go willingly before Wooyeon drags you back, kicking and screaming the whole way,” you joke, smiling as Wooyeon grins and hums in agreement.

“Surely you wouldn't do that to me, right Wooyeon?” Nayeon asks, turning and pouting at her in an exaggeratedly cute manner.

“The option's never been more tempting,” Wooyeon replies, sticking out her tongue in response.

“Okay okay fine, I surrender,” Nayeon tells her, raising her hands in a manner all too familiar to you before turning back to you. “I'll see you Saturday?”

“Wouldn't miss it for anything,” you tell Nayeon, pulling her into a tight hug that finally dispels the vast amount of tension she'd built up in such a short time.

“Neither would I,” Nayeon murmurs back before pulling away just enough to capture your lips one final time.

“Alright, let's go,” Nayeon tells Wooyeon, interlocking arms with her as they begin to walk away.

“So, for the first part of my apology, I want …” Wooyeon's voice trails off as they walk out of earshot. But you remain in place, watching their retreating forms until they leave your field of view. And then perhaps a minute longer, just in case.

But eventually, you also turn away and begin your departure. The only topic on your mind as you walk, ride the bus, and then walk again on your journey to reach your home is the storm of emotions within. On the one hand, it gave you the confidence to act in a way you wouldn't have been willing to normally, leading to an amazing and memorable moment. But on the other hand, you can't shake the feeling that this upswell wasn't the final manifestation of these detrimental feelings. All you can do is hope that if they do flare again, that night won’t be memorable for all the wrong reasons.

tick…

tock…

As you walk alongside Nayeon, you can’t help but marvel at how normal this new norm feels. Even just a few weeks ago, you would have desperately lunged at the chance to see Nayeon a single time, but now, seeing her multiple times a week feels routine. Normal. Unremarkable?

Definitely not unremarkable, as the memory of your arms wrapped around her waist and her lips pressed against your own is just as vivid as it felt in that moment a few nights ago. Even the restlessness of flaking on the group’s performance for the first time last night feels insignificant in comparison to the contentment you feel right now.

Which is why it’s so jarring when you’re met by a “CLOSED” sign on the shop’s door for the first time ever.

“‘Apologies for the sudden closure’,” you read aloud. “‘We’re visiting family this weekend and will be closed for the next couple of days.’”

“‘We’ll be open once again on Monday. We hope to see you then!’” Nana concludes. “I mean, I hope she has a nice time, but what do we do now?”

“I mean, I’m sure we can find somewhere else that sounds good. There are a couple places nearby that I usually order delivery from,” you offer.

“Wait, isn’t your place nearby?” she asks, earning a nod in response. “Why don’t we just pick something up on the way and eat there? We could watch a movie too, it’ll be fun!”

“Wait wait wait,�� you say, mind reeling at the implications. “Did you just invite yourself into my apartment?”

“Yep!” Nayeon announces, shame nowhere to be found within that radiant smile. “Now figure out which chicken place you want to order from and let’s go!”

All you can do is laugh at the absurdity of the situation as you pull out your phone and do as she asks. After a few minutes of walking and a quick stop to pick up food, you arrive at your apartment. Your one-bedroom apartment might pale in comparison to some of the more upscale living areas in Seoul, but you genuinely appreciate the place you call your home, and you show it to Nayeon with pride. After a brief tour, you both unpack the large assortment of dishes that usually accompany any Korean meal and begin your dinner.

“How was your performance last night?” you ask her, forcing yourself to smile even as the initial hints of your jealousy begin to stir.

“It went well, thank you!” Nayeon responds, smiling softly at you. “The fan turnout was amazing, so it was super easy to enjoy performing for them. What about you, how was your night?”

“Pretty good, thank you for asking,” you say, attempting to match the warmth of her smile but unable to due to the ice in your heart. “It was a pretty unremarkable evening in general, but I did appreciate the chance to catch up on some much-needed sleep.”

“That’s good to hear! I missed having you there, but I’m glad you were able to rest.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry for not being there to support you, but at least Wooyeon got to enjoy a night where she didn’t have to hunt us down.”

“She actually told me that she was sad you weren’t there! She said on the ride over that she was sure last night was going to be your guys’ first ‘normal’ conversation.”

“Really? That’s unfortunate, hopefully it’ll happen next time I see her.”

“Hopefully!” Nayeon agrees, and you both go back to enjoying your dinner.

A few minutes later, once you’ve both finished and cleared away the table, you pull out your favorite oversized blanket and lounge on the couch, inviting Nayeon to join you. She’s more than happy to oblige, taking the remote from you and immediately pulling up some recently released horror sequel. You can’t help but voice your surprise, but your concerns are swiftly and eagerly shut down as she gets up and begins messing with the light switches, trying different combinations in an attempt to properly set the mood. Once she finally achieves her desired lighting, she hops back onto the couch, pulling the blanket over herself and laying against your side.

As she snuggles in closer, you do your best to relax and simply enjoy the experience. And, if nothing else, the experience is certainly entertaining, as Nayeon seems to be terrified of the jump scares that seem to occur every couple of minutes. Yet despite her screams, she refuses every time you ask if she wants to watch something else, insisting that she’s having a great time. Well, for the first hour at least.

“Can I ask you something?” Nayeon says suddenly as she pauses the movie.

“Of course,” you say, your mind flooding with concerns and thoughts of worst-case outcomes.

“Is everything alright?” she asks, sitting up and turning to face you.

“Like, right now? Couldn’t be better,” you respond, fighting through your concern as you offer a strained smile.

“Mostly just in general, but you don’t seem relaxed even now, despite the fact that we’re under this stupidly soft blanket on this insanely comfy couch,” Nayeon says, smiling for a moment before her expression shifts back to seriousness. “But honestly, you’ve seemed kinda off for a while. It's not all the time, but often enough for me to be concerned. Is there something you want to talk about?”

“No, it’s okay, I—” You stop yourself, searching through the dark and finding nothing but obvious care and trust in her eyes. So, knowing you can do better, you start over.

“I’m not going to lie to you. I promise I won’t. So, yeah, there’s something that’s bothering me, but it’s … hard to explain. I don’t want to hide anything from you—and I promise I will tell you, but I don’t know the words to tell you what I want to say right now. Can I ask you to be patient with me, just for a little bit?”

“Okay,” she says, visible concern on her face as she nods. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” you say, awkwardly turning back to the TV.

You’re unable to focus on the rest of the movie, deafened by the silence between you two and shivering from a coldness unrelated to the setting sun. Even once it’s over and Nayeon gets ready to leave, neither of you are able to put on a convincing enough performance to hide your emotions. You exchange awkward goodbyes, waving farewell instead of hugging like you’ve always done as she walks away.

Thus, it’s anything but surprising when, mere hours later, the girl of your dreams becomes the subject of your nightmares. Spectral visions of her pained expression haunt you as the thoughts of causing her stress, pain, and suffering bind and isolate you. You swear you can hear the haunted cackling of the manifestations of anxiety and jealousy in your mind as they cast a spotlight on your inability to quell the storm. And as the nightmare begins to fade and you feel yourself being dragged away from her, you finally get it.

As soon as you awaken, unsurprisingly covered in sweat, you immediately grab your phone and begin composing a series of messages. Because you refuse to let your selfishness hurt someone else, especially Nayeon.

You (5:01am): Hey, I’m so, so sorry about last night, especially how it ended

You (5:01am): There’s somewhere I’d love to show you, it’s a private place where we should be able to spend some time together and talk

You (5:01am): If you have an afternoon free sometime soon, please let me know

You (5:02am): Thanks so much

Between the restless night and the anxiety of hoping for a response, the miserable day you end up having is anything but a surprise. You check your phone at every available opportunity, but the response you're hoping for never arrives.

It isn't until after you return home, when you're sitting alone in the stale air of your frigid, empty apartment that Nayeon answers.

Nayeon🐇 (5:01pm): Hey, I'm so sorry for taking so long to respond, there were a lot of things I ended up needing to take care of today

Nayeon🐇 (5:01pm): Does tomorrow work? I'm sorry if it's sooner than you were expecting …

You (5:02pm): No, that would actually be perfect! Thank you so much, I'll send you the address

You press send, feeling a great weight lifted off your shoulders as you confirm the location and time with her. Unfortunately, just as you feel yourself begin to relax, your mind begins compiling a list of the things you’ll need for tomorrow.

So, once again, you bundle up and step outside to face the harsh winds. But this time, as the grocery store comes into view, you're eager to brave the storm. Because you know what's waiting for you on the other side.

tick…

tock…

Noon. The brightest point of the day. A time of warmth. An important part of any day for a multitude of reasons. Specifically, the most important part of today because it's when you plan to meet Nayeon.

You scramble onto the bus just in time, sighing in relief as you check the clock and see that you’re scheduled to arrive a bit early, just as you’d hoped. So, with a bit of free time during the thirty-eight-minute journey awaiting you, you first check all your belongings, happily confirming that nothing's been lost in transit. You look out the window, frowning slightly at the clouds slowly rolling across the sky, blocking out the clear sky you'd hoped would be the backdrop to this crucial day. You cast that aside, choosing instead to focus on what you can control. Like what exactly you want to say to her. How you want to convey your feelings to her.

Is this a confession? A request? An invitation? A farewell? No, you know it's definitely not a farewell. But you still don't know what exactly you want to tell her.

Actually, that's not entirely true either, because when you’re with her, you can't help but want to talk to her about anything and everything. But just for today, you hope that you can be greedy. You hope that you'll somehow find the exact words you need to convey how you feel. The exact words she needs to hear. The exact words that'll help you solve this problem. The exact words she wants to hear. The exact words that'll steal her heart.

A familiar little robotic voice echoes throughout the bus, informing you that you’ve arrived. You gather up your blanket, basket, and jacket, then exit the bus and turn to walk towards your destination.

As you slip your sunglasses on, you look around, smiling slightly at the memories resurfacing at the sight of so many familiar shops from your past. You see the pet store where you cried because your mom wouldn't buy you a chinchilla for your fifth birthday. You see the small ice cream shop where you celebrated your first soccer tournament victory with your friends. You see the hair salon where the stylist always teased you for growing out your hair over your ears as a teenager.

And when you turn the corner, you see the bridge where you had your first kiss. There, standing alone, a familiar flash of gold hides beneath a cap and scarf, and the sight of her finally makes you see the truth. Waiting for you atop that bridge, you see your first love.

“Of course.”

Your knuckles whiten as they tightly grip the wooden handle of the basket. You feel your legs attempt to lock up, but you force yourself to break free of anxiety's cold grip and begin to close the distance. You barely make it onto the small bridge before she perks up at the sound of your footsteps and turns to face you.

“Hey, I'm so sorry for making you wait, I tried to be here as soon as—”

“No, no, don’t worry about it,” Nayeon says, lips upturned in a hint of a smile. “I’m used to being the first one to arrive and I only got here a couple minutes ago.”

You both pause for a moment, an uncharacteristically awkward silence filling the air between you two as you both search for the right thing to say.

“Thanks for inviting me here,” Nayeon says after a few moments. “I've never been to this neighborhood before.”

“No, thank you for being willing to come, especially so soon!” you quickly respond. “I’m sorry for being vague about it earlier, but this is actually where I grew up.”

“Oh really?” Nayeon asks, looking around with a renewed interest. “I'm sure you have so many stories to tell about this place!”

“Something like that,” you say meekly, looking down at the sidewalk. Where you remember standing as you kissed your first crush so many years ago. Where you remember standing as your tears hit the pavement when that same girl said goodbye for the last time. Where you stand now, hoping that you can convince the best thing that's ever happened to you to stay.

“Well then, where are we going?” Nayeon asks. “Don't tell me you're going to ask me to cheat on Aunt Kim by going to another noodle shop!”

“Of course not!” you exclaim, feeling your vigor return as you laugh with her.

“That's probably for the best. I don't suppose it's that ice cream store either?” Nayeon asks excitedly.

“Maybe after,” you say, chuckling at her dramatic pout.

“I did come with a plan for lunch,” you continue, holding up the basket and showing it to her.

“Oh, that's amazing!” Nayeon exclaims, finally closing the distance between you two and hugging you tightly. “You're the cutest!”

You're initially baffled by Nayeon, who's so much shorter than you, calling you cute, but you're more than willing to bite back your response and simply hold her close. After a minute or so, you force yourself to pull away.

“Alright, so where are we going?” Nayeon asks as her eyes eagerly explore the area.

“It's about a fifteen-minute walk from here, maybe twenty if you want me to act as a tour guide.”

“I'm in no rush when I'm with you,” Nayeon immediately responds. “Tell me everything.”

After taking a second to make sure your heart hasn’t overloaded, you extend your hand to her. “Alright, but only because it's you. Follow me.”

Nayeon happily obliges, and with her hand in yours, you begin the journey upstream through the sands of time. You spend the first few minutes of the walk pointing out the local stores and restaurants that you fondly remember, initially avoiding any mention of places associated with less flattering memories. But as you continue on and grow more comfortable, you begin to share all of the most memorable pieces of your past, much to the delight of Nayeon, who's happy to laugh with and at you as you tell her about the defining moments of your childhood.

After roughly ten minutes, you come to a stop, staring up at one tall, gray building in particular amongst the half-dozen duplicates in the area.

“What about this place?” Nayeon asks, noticing your hesitation.

“This is … the place I grew up,” you explain. “My parents and I lived in this apartment building until I graduated high school and went off to college.”

“Oh, so this was your home?”

“You could say that, but I don't think of it that way. This is the place where I lived, but it isn't the place where I made the most memories.”

“Hmm, I think I understand. Did you have a place you'd call your home instead?”

“I did,” you confirm, gripping her hand tighter. “We're going there now.”

You continue on, allowing the air to grow quiet as you walk under the canopy of trees hanging over the path between two streets. After a few minutes of this comfortable contemplation, you speak up.

“I know this is gonna sound weird but hear me out.”

“That's certainly one way to start a conversation,” Nayeon jokes, squeezing your hand slightly. “But sure, I'm listening.”

“I really appreciate how easy it is to just … enjoy being with you,” you explain. “How you make me feel comfortable even when we're being quiet, because just being together is enough.”

“Uh huh. And you wanted to convey this to me by breaking the silence to do so?”

“Listen, I … yeah, I guess so. I just wanted to let you know how you make me feel. I'm far from the best with words, as I'm sure you've noticed.”

“I might have,” she jokes, pulling herself closer against your side. “But I don't think you give yourself enough credit.”

“Oh? Why do you say that?”

“Because I already knew you felt that way,” Nayeon says, looking up at you with bright eyes and a brighter smile. “And because I feel the same way too.”

You share a few more minutes of soft silence as you walk along the road, traveling under the canopy until it parts and you see the clouds above. A couple of streets and turns later, you arrive at your destination.

“This is the park where I used to play soccer,” you explain. “To your right is where I scored a goal to win a tournament match, and if you look wayyy in the back left, you can see where I made an opponent so angry, he shoved me to the ground and nearly broke my wrist.”

“Oh wow!” Nayeon exclaims, covering her mouth as a snippet of laughter threatens to escape. “You must have a lot of fond memories of this place.”

“Yeah …” you say, trailing off as you cast your mind back to those times ten, fifteen years ago. “I made a lot of friends—and enemies—on these fields.”

“Do you still keep in touch with many of them? Your friends, not your enemies,” she clarifies.

“No, almost none of either group actually,” you admit. “It gets hard when people move away and college or work takes over your life. I make sure to stay in contact with one, my best friend from those times, but even that’s a bit of a struggle. I haven’t seen him in who knows how many years, just talked with him online.”

“I—wow…” Nayeon says, eyes sweeping the empty grass that you’ll always remember as full of life. “I can’t even imagine being separated from Wooyeon.”

“Well, it’s probably different when you see each other, what, 350 days out of the year?” you point out.

“That’s fair,” she admits, finally releasing that pent-up chuckle. “Thank you for showing me this, I’m sure it means a lot to you.”

“Of course,” you say, offering her a smile. “Now I want to show you the place that became my home.”

“Then let’s go!” Nayeon announces, returning your smile and allowing you to lead her across the expanse that seemed endless when you were younger.

Eventually, you reach a small chain link fence, which you follow until you’re met with the familiar sight of a rusted gate with a faded combination lock.

“Let’s hope they haven’t changed this,” you say, mostly to yourself, as you input the code: 090301.

To your great joy—and mild surprise—it unlatches, allowing you to open the gate and lead Nayeon inside. Within, you easily navigate through the branches and brush, memories coming back in a rush as you delve deeper and deeper. After about a minute, you arrive, pulling back a branch and allowing Nayeon to pass by you into the small clearing. Surrounded on all sides by trees, a pair of smooth, plateau-like rocks sit a couple meters from a softly flowing creek, granting you both the solitude that this private sanctum had always blessed you with.

“This is it,” you explain, nearly whispering the words as Nayeon takes in the scene. “This was … everything, really. This is where I came when I needed to think, needed to decompress, or … needed to know what I needed, I guess.”

“This is incredible!” Nayeon says, eyes wide as she frenetically scours every centimeter of the area, committing it to memory. “How did you even find this place?”

“Everyone I’ve ever brought here has asked me that exact question,” you say, a sentimental smile spreading across your face. “But I’ll tell you the same thing I told the other two; I feel like it honestly found me. I just … went out looking for a sign of something on a night where I needed direction and found myself here.”

“This is actually the first time I’ve come here since moving away for college,” you continue. “It’s crazy how as much as things change, they stay the same.”

“I guess so …” Nayeon says, trailing off before turning and meeting your eyes. “Thank you for bringing me here. I can tell this place holds a special place in your heart and I deeply appreciate you sharing it with me.”

“Of course,” you say after a moment, struggling to formulate words under the intensity of her gaze. “You hold a special place in my heart too, so I appreciate you trusting me and coming here with me.”

Nayeon is content to let her smile be her response, so you lay out the blanket across the smooth rocks and take a seat on one, gesturing towards the other. “Come on, let’s talk.”

“Talk?” she asks, implication obvious in her voice as her eyes harden.

“Talk,” you confirm with a nod.

“Okay,” Nayeon whispers, barely loud enough for you to hear above your pounding heartbeat as she takes a seat beside you. She shakes her hands like they’ve gone numb, then continues, “Please, tell me what’s going on. Everything that’s going on.”

“Nayeon, I want to make sure you know something, something very important,” you tell her, earning a nod in response. “I care about you. So much. Maybe too much. I know I haven’t been returning the warmth that you’ve shared with me, and for that, I am so sorry.”

You pause, release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, and deeply inhale before continuing, “It’s just—sometimes when I’m with you, negative emotions start building up inside me that feel like a storm threatening to pull me under. Sometimes, I can’t help but feel jealous when I see you on stage or when you talk about your fans, because it feels like there’s so many of them and I’m just … me. I feel like they’ve known you longer, seen more of you, and that you can’t help but prioritize them because your job depends on it. I know I shouldn’t feel this way, and I know that it’s selfish.”

You force yourself to stop and look at her. She sits patiently, listening attentively as she nods once again, waiting for you to continue. So, you do. “I want you to know, more than anything else, that none of this is your fault. And I am so, so sorry for putting you in this position. But after you asked me if everything was alright, I knew that I couldn’t hide it from you any longer. I knew that if I kept this inside, it would boil over and end up hurting you in the process. And I can’t allow that to happen—I can’t let you get hurt because of how I feel—but I can’t walk away without telling you the truth. And I know I have no right to do this to you and I understand if you’re upset and if you want me to leave I—”

“Hey, hey, listen to me,” Nayeon says softly, cupping your face in her ever so delicate hands. “Thank you, so much, for telling me this. I don’t and won’t ever blame you for feeling those kinds of feelings. I wish I could tell you that I understand and that everything will be alright, but I can't. Honestly, I probably won’t ever truly be able to.”

“But I need you to trust me when I tell you that you mean everything to me,” she continues. “And I need you to trust me when I tell you I’m willing to face this problem as long as it’s by your side. And when I say that we can get through this, together, I mean it with every fiber of my being and all of my heart. All I can ask is that you put your faith in me, in yourself, and most importantly, in us. Can you do that for me?”

“Just like that?” you ask, dumbfounded. “I’m being completely unfair, presenting you with this problem, and you’re somehow still willing to give me more support?”

“For you? Absolutely,” she responds resolutely. “I don’t know if I’d ever be able to piece my heart back together if you broke it by leaving.”

“Then yes, I—Yes,” you declare, placing your hands on hers and holding them tightly. “Absolutely, I can. I will. I promise.”

She beams with joy, immediately responding, “Anything for me, right?”

You gently pull her hands away from your face, interweaving your fingers with hers as you tell her, “Of course Nana, it’s always been you. You’ve been the only thing that matters to me since the moment I saw you. It’s always been you and always will be.”

You watch as her eyes go wide. “You’ve never called me that before.”

“I guess so …” you say, trailing off as the realization hits you too. “I’m sorry if you’d—“

You stop yourself as Nana untangles her fingers from yours in an instant, wrapping her arms around you and squeezing you so tightly that it’s nearly impossible to continue.

“Please say something,” you manage to get out, chuckling awkwardly. “I kinda just poured my heart and soul out to you and I’d really appreciate you sharing your thoughts.”

“My arms are getting tired from how tightly I’m hugging you and you still need me to tell you what I’m thinking?” Nana scoffs, nuzzling into your chest and refusing to let go.

“Fair point,” you admit, contentedly wrapping your arms around her, though nowhere near as tightly as she’s hugging you. “Thank you, Nana.”

“For what? The hug?” she asks, somehow squeezing you even tighter.

“I mean, yes, the hug is amazing, but that isn’t what I meant,” you choke out. “For being so good to me. From that first day we met all the way until today, I feel like I’ve been the one with the problem and you’ve been the one with the solution.”

“Maybe, but that won’t always be the case,” Nana responds, loosening her hold on you just enough to allow you to breathe again. “And if a storm comes and attempts to drag me under, I like to believe you’ll be there, holding on for dear life and refusing to let go.”

You don’t even try to respond verbally, instead releasing your hold on her and using your newly free hand to cup her chin. As your thumb slowly traces patterns across the soft skin of her cheek, the rest of your body closes what little distance remains between you, allowing you to brush the faintest of kisses onto her lips. You kiss her gently, tenderly, barely making any contact as your lips land on hers and then depart before she can kiss you back. You repeat these featherlight flits over and over again, attempting to convey all the feelings you’ve left unsaid. And finally, when she tightens her hold on you and mewls in frustration, you fervently capture her lips and refuse to be the one who pulls away.

Your conviction ends up just barely lasting long enough for Nana to pull away first, but the light-headedness and dizziness that blocks your view of the only thing you want to be seeing right now is a powerful reminder that oxygen is, in fact, important. For a short while, the sound of both of you panting is the only sensation that keeps you tethered to consciousness. But eventually, when you manage to part the darkness and open your eyes, you’re met with the sight of Nana, her chest expanding and contracting just as rapidly as yours as you both amend your oxygen deficits. And if her smudged lipstick, flushed face, and wild, wide eyes staring into yours are any indication, you’re fairly confident she’s satisfied with your response.

“So … lunch?”

“Just like that?” she asks, dumbfounded. “You literally take my breath away and that’s all you have to say?”

“Oh, I did have something else!” you remark, acting far more nonchalantly than you feel. “I love you, Nana.”

It can’t be instantaneous. But you don’t quite know how it happens either. Your heart skips a beat when you see a blur of motion in your periphery, then you blink and you’re on the ground with Nana holding you down. Somewhere around the second or third second of Nana kissing you, it finally connects in your mind. She actually just tackled you off the rock.

“I—love—you—too,” Nana tells you, whispering each word into your ear in the moments between her own featherlight kisses. Your heart soars at her reciprocation of your feelings, and as soon as she decides the time for words is over, you’re more than happy to oblige. She melts into you as you wrap your arms around her back and return her kiss, matching her fervor and maybe even exceeding it. You both know to pull away much sooner than you did last time, respecting the harsh lesson your bodies had given you.

“You know, a little warning would be nice,” you tease, smiling up at her.

“You’re one to talk!” Nana exclaims, hitting your chest with one small hand as she fans her crimson visage with the other. “Don’t you know that it’s downright irresponsible to just drop something on me like that?”

“To be fair, I was under the impression that we both expected you to be the responsible one here,” you say, bringing out your puppy eyes and painting faux innocence across every centimeter of your face.

“I … you … ugh!” she grumbles, a rainbow of emotions flashing across her face before she finally leans away from you. “Yes dear, lunch sounds wonderful.”

It’s right then when you realize another thing that makes Nana special. She makes your cheeks hurt with how much you smile around her. And even minutes later, after you’ve both gotten up, unpacked the basket, and you’ve both begun to eat the home cooked meals out of the little plastic containers they’re stored in, the smile she so easily coaxes out of you hasn’t left your face.

“I didn’t get to say it earlier after you blindsided me, but thank you too,” Nana says midway through your meal.

“Blindsided is a bit rich coming from you, the only person here who literally tackled the other, but I digress,” you respond, smiling warmly at her amused smirk. “What for?”

“For being my friend,” she says, turning away from you and staring into the woods. “It’s … hard to make friends as an idol. There are so many expectations for how we’re meant to behave and we’re often too busy to really spend time with others. I really appreciate your willingness to be flexible and even come to our performances, especially now that I know how it was affecting you …”

“Of course, I’m always happy to be flexible, it’s for you,” you tell her, taking her hand in yours. “Even if you’re only able to spare a few minutes after each performance, I’m sure we could make it work.”

“But it doesn’t have to only be then, that’s not fair to either of us,” she says, squeezing your hand back. “Days like this are worth clearing my schedule for.”

“Wait, you cleared your schedule for today? To see me? Yesterday? Before you even knew if I was available?” you ask, receiving a quartet of nods in response.

“That’s why I took so long to respond yesterday, I was running around taking care of all my responsibilities in the dorm and doing the choreography practice I’d planned to do today,” Nana explains. “I trusted that you’d make it work. When I saw your text that early in the morning, I figured that you hadn’t been able to sleep either.”

“Wow … I … didn’t even realize … thank you for doing so much for me,” you say, idly tracing circles against the back of her hand. “But truly, I am always happy to see you, regardless of time or circumstance. I’m really looking forward to seeing you perform in the future; it’ll be nice to be able to really enjoy you doing what you love without jealousy blinding me.”

“That’s great to hear!” she responds, turning back and smiling at you. “You taking the time to come see us means so much to me … the first thing I do whenever I get on stage is find you in the crowd.”

“Oh, I—oh. Thank you,” you say, grateful that you manage to reply before those words join the rest in vacating your mind.

“Of course!” Nana responds, smiling warmly at you before you both return to your lunch. After you both finish your meals, you look up to the sky, grimacing as you see the consolidation of the clouds as they blot out the sun.

“Hey, Nana,” you say, pointing up to the sky as she turns to you. “We should definitely get going before we end up stuck in the rain.”

“Okay,” she says, nodding resolutely. “Let’s get packed up and go.”

You both work together in harmony, loading the containers back into the basket in a fraction of the time it took to unload them. You take her hand once more, hastily leading her along the trails and roads you've traversed alone countless times.

“We might have to skip the ice cream today,” you tell Nana as you both quickly walk down the streets that house so many memories.

“Oh no! I guess you'll just have to make it up to me later …” Nana responds, smiling in understanding.

A minute or so later, just as the first few drops of rain begin to fall like your tears that night on the bridge, you arrive at the bus stop.

“This is where I need to get on the bus,” you say to Nana. “Where are you going, can I call you a taxi? Were you intending on someone picking you up? What's the plan?”

Nana smiles in a very particular way, the same way she always seems to smile whenever she realizes that she knows something you don't. “I'm going wherever you're going. That's been my plan for a long, long time now.”

You're grateful for the rain, as the sounds of its fall are the only sounds to be found in the seconds that pass before you're able to respond. You wrap your jacket around her shoulders, sheltering her from the cold as you stare directly into her eyes and tell her, “I … I don't know what I did to deserve the trust you put in me, but I'm incredibly grateful for it. I promise you that I will never take it for granted. I promise you, with every fiber of my being and all of my heart, that I will never break that trust.”

“I know,” Nana responds, her whispered words bouncing between the raindrops before barely reaching your ears. “You showed me your heart today, the least I can do is give you mine.”

You pull Nana close and gently rest your forehead against hers. Each falling raindrop and each flowing teardrop helps you paint the picture, telling her the thousands of words you can’t verbalize but need her to know. In this shared moment, as echoes of your past remind you of those sorrowful tears shed so many years ago, your joyful ones return you to the present and the gift in your arms. So, at least in this moment, you hold Nana tight, vowing to never let her go.

You pull away only when the bus arrives a few minutes later but remain hand in hand as you walk forward. After stepping on, paying for both of your fares, and finding a pair of seats, you pull out a pair of earbuds and offer Nana one. She's more than happy to accept, and as she rests her head on your shoulder and you queue up a series of serene love songs from your favorite artists, you hope their words can do a better job of telling Nana how much you love her.

tick…

tock…

“We're here,” you whisper to Nana, gently shaking her awake. “Just take my hand, I'll lead you home.”

“Okay,” she murmurs, interweaving her fingers with yours and following you through the bus, down the steps, and into the monsoon that immediately jolts her back into consciousness.

“Oookaaayyyy, I'm up!” Nana declares, pulling your jacket tight against her small frame. “Lead the way, I don't think these pants are gonna do much against a storm like this!”

You take off immediately, leading her as quickly as you can down the sidewalks before eventually stopping at an interaction where you ask her, “But really, why does it always seem like your outfits are in no way at all suited to the weather?”

“Because my outfit looks cute!” Nana exclaims indignantly. “And you of all people should be glad that’s my priority!”

“Of course, you're right,” you respond, kissing her on the nose in apology. “Then again, I'm convinced you'd make anything look good, but I do genuinely appreciate that you care and that you put thought into your outfits. It makes me feel special.”

The crosswalk finally flashes green, and you take off once again, leading Nana towards your apartment as she scolds you. “Seriously, you can't just keep saying things like that so casually! There are at least four heartwarming things in that statement that make me want to kiss you, but your question was so stupid that I still kinda want to slap you! And this stupid rain isn’t helping anything at all! And I’m cold! Ugh!”

You're grateful that you're ahead of Nana, because you know that if she sees the goofy smile on your face, you'll be in big trouble. “Okay dear, I'm sorry I made you feel that way,” you respond, speaking in the most soothing tone possible. “We’re almost to my apartment, where it’ll be n-nice and warm, and w-we’ll make everything better. I p-promise.”

Neither of you speak another word for the remainder of your mad dash, too busy fighting off the shivers to do so. After a few more minutes, you arrive back at your home, where you tear the key from your pocket, hurriedly unlock the door, and shepherd her inside.

“O-Okay, I’m g-going to start the sh-shower f-for you and g-grab a dry set of clothes for y-you to change into, please f-feel free to d-discard that j-jacket l-literally anywhere,” you manage to tell Nana, taking off as she begins to do as you request.

You fight off the shivers as you quickly dash around your apartment, flipping the shower on and grabbing yourself a towel before darting into your bedroom and grabbing some dry clothes for both of you, then returning to Nana.

“Okay, t-the shower should b-b-be nice and h-hot, and there’s a c-clean towel in t-t-there y-you can u-use,” you stammer as you round the corner. “H-Here’s something t-to … change … into …”

Your voice escapes you as you see her, back turned as she watches the rain mercilessly paint the cobblestone. You first see the soaked cotton of her top and how it shakes as her small figure shivers in the cold. But that isn’t what catches your eye and leaves you dizzy. It’s the way her pants have tightened, showcasing the sculpted definition of her thighs and how they flow upwards to display the perfectly round curve of her ass.

As she turns, you force yourself to pull your gaze upwards, feeling your face flush as your pulse continues to quicken. You drag your eyes up her body, past her toned stomach that hides beneath the sopping garments, past her pert breasts and stiff nipples that strain against the soaked fabric, past her shaking shoulders and kissable neck and diamond jawline and roseate lips and adorable nose until finally you meet those chocolate eyes that stare back at you.

“T-Thank you s-s-soooo m-much,” Nana responds, fighting off her own shivers as she takes the clothes from you, then darts off towards the warmth awaiting her, leaving you frozen in more ways than one.

You do your best to ignore how difficult it is to remove your soaked pants, especially as they cling to your skin and especially because of your hardening erection that’s impossible to miss. After removing all of your drenched attire and placing the dripping bundle alongside the jacket you loaned Nana, you attempt to dry yourself off, saturating the towel with frigid water far quicker than you’d hoped you would. Once you’re sure that you’ve gotten your money’s worth, you add the towel to the pile in the sink, then put on the pajamas you’d grabbed and turn up the thermostat to its highest setting.

Once you're confident that you’ve done all you can, you collapse, couch creaking in protest at the impact. In this moment to breathe, the events of the day begin to hit you, flashing across your mind in sync with the droplets of rain against your window. You think of all the places that defined your childhood. You think of faces long forgotten. You think of faces you’ll never forget. You think of echoes. You think of her atop that bridge. You think of her atop that bridge. You think of all the words that escaped your lips. You think of Nana’s small hands lifting the weight of the world off your shoulders. You think of her body on top of yours as she pinned you down with kisses. You think of her body. You think of the cold. You think of heat. You think of your soaked clothes clinging to your skin. You think of Nana’s soaked clothes clinging to her skin. You think of Nana, dripping wet. You think of Nana, dripping wet.

As you stare out the window, your mind vaguely registers the sound of a hair dryer. But soon even that sense joins the others, consumed with the thoughts of Nana. One storm for another. You’re not even sure if the words escape your lips.

The door opens, and you get up to face Nana. She’s radiant, each strand of gold and each centimeter of porcelain glowing in the dim light of your apartment. She’s wearing glasses. She’s wearing your favorite shirt. She’s wearing nothing else.

“Hey,” she whispers, somehow slotting seventy emotions into that single syllable as it floats over to you.

You've always viewed Nana as pretty. She's always been cute. She'll never not be beautiful. But as you fight off the arctic chill that permeates your bones, you realize you've never looked at her this way. You can't help but notice how hot she is. You see Nana as sexy for the first time.

“Hey,” she calls again, tilting her head and leaning to the side. It’s unfair, the way she sinks against the doorframe. It’s immoral, the way she makes herself look even smaller as she hides in the folds of your shirt. It’s incomprehensible, the way the wide rims of her glasses make her pleading eyes look even bigger. It’s criminal, the way she hides her intent behind that innocent smile.

“Are you just gonna sit there with your jaw on the floor for the rest of the night, or are you going to say something?”

“N-Nana, if you could s-see what I see, y-you’d be speechless t-too,” you manage to get out, unable to suppress the shivers as you respond.

“Well, you could walk into the bathroom that I might have sorta turned into a sauna,” Nana offers, the smallest of smiles beginning to show.

“Or …” she continues, taking her time as she closes the distance between you two. “I could warm you up …”

Your arms wrap around her instinctually as she presses her body against you. You can feel the sculpted frame hidden beneath the oversized shirt. You can feel the tension. You can feel the heat. And as your eyes drift down to her lips, you can feel your reservations flying out the window to join the falling rain.

You kiss her. Gently. Delicately. And she shoves you backwards onto the couch.

“Absolutely not,” Nana declares, climbing into your lap. She wraps her arms around your neck, licking her lips hungrily before pulling you close. Within a second of her claiming your lips with her own and beginning to grind against your lower half, any questions you might have had join your reservations on the pavement outside. You match her intensity, running your tongue along her lips patiently, then expectantly, and claim her mouth as soon as she lets you in. Your hands roam, dragging your fingers like ice cubes across her hips and down her thighs as she hisses into your mouth.

You work your way up her body, past her waistline and under your her shirt. You travel further, past the lean abs she’s worked so hard to sculpt, across the ridges and valleys of her expanding and contracting rib cage, all the way until the tips of your fingers brush the sensitive underside of her breasts. The whimper that escapes her mouth into yours is immediate. It’s needy. It’s pathetic. It’s the hottest sound you’ve ever heard.

The soft, malleable skin becomes a pair of perfect handfuls as you explore the fringes of Nana’s breasts, sending sparks through her synapses and shockwaves down her spine. You break away from her kiss, just for a moment, just long enough to watch her collapse onto you as you finally knead her swollen nipples between your fingers. You take the opportunity to access the curve of her neck, mentally noting where earns the loudest moans as you suck, kiss, and nip the sensitive skin.

“Look at you, so desperate,” you whisper into her ear, grinding your hips against hers and forcing her to moan. “I’ve barely even touched you, but somehow you’re even more drenched than earlier.”

“And you know what’s the worst part?” you murmur, stretching a single second across the tension before continuing. “That’s nothing compared to what you’re doing to me. I’ve never been so hard in my fucking life.”

“You—you’re—OH!!!”

You know what you’re doing when you latch onto that particular spot on the base of her neck; that her response is going to be lost, lost in the sound of her moan echoing against your walls. But you also know what she wanted to verbalize, what her body has been telling you as it tenses up even further. So, when you feel her shaking, on the precipice, you’re more than willing to lend a hand. You’re happy to detach from her breast, brushing against her sensitive folds with the back of your hand. And so, when you’re kind enough to simply graze her clit with an icy fingernail, you also make sure to hold her as she comes undone.

The first orgasm you give Nana is a cinematic experience, with a soundtrack of the most ungodly of moans alongside her quivering limbs and the deathly grip on your shoulders as if you’re the only thing keeping her afloat. You gently trace circles along her back, whispering sweet nothings into her ear and holding her as she rides out the high. You wait, long after the quivering has ceased and she’s unclenched her hands, long enough for her to meet your eyes and show you that the fog has lifted.

“Hey,” you murmur, goofy grin growing wider as you see her eyes flash with outrage.

“You can’t keep doing this!” Nana exclaims, huffing in frustration when all you have to offer is your gleaming smile. “You can’t just blow my mind and change my life and end it with a ‘Hey’!”

“Who said that was the end?” you ask, humor discarded as your tone drops. “You did what you said you would, now we’re both hot and bothered.” You look into her eyes, see the recognition and excitement. Then, you see the desire reignite as you thrust upwards, teasing her sex with only a bit of friction. “What are you going to do about it?”

Nana meets the challenge with equal passion, whispering into your ear, “I’m going to show you a side of me that no one has ever seen before.”

Having adequately spiked your blood pressure, Nana climbs off you, moving with idol-like grace as she sashays towards your bedroom door. Having reached the end of the runway, she turns, throwing off her shirt and modeling her pristine form for you. She’s divine. You somehow tear your eyes away from her flawless figure, staring instead into her molten eyes. She captures her bottom lip between her teeth, slowly dragging them across the soft, pink skin before twisting her innocuous expression into one of sinister glee. She’s sin incarnate.

Then, she’s gone, retreated back into your bedroom. You’re off the couch in a blur, flinging off your shirt and pajama bottoms, discarding the soaked pieces of clothing as they join the rest. You round the corner, entering your bedroom, and you have to pinch yourself to make sure you aren’t dreaming.

You’ve seen Nana dozens of times at this point, seen her in outfits ranging from luxury goods to school uniforms to casual attire to athletic wear. You’ve seen her when doted on by professional stylists, just after a dance practice, and everywhere in-between. But when you see her here, in your bed, wearing nothing but a smile and absolutely glistening in anticipation, you swear your heart stops.

You climb onto the bed; you climb on top of her. You kiss her. Not lightly, not lustfully, but lovingly. And when she kisses you back, you feel that exact same longing. Despite the sincerity in the kiss, you don’t feel the heat in the room diminish at all. No, you just realize it’s everburning.

You pull away. Barely. Just enough room for words. Just far enough to see her eyes.

“No interruptions this time, it's just you and me,” you murmur, causing her to shudder in anticipation right up until a thunderclap echoes throughout the apartment and makes you both jump.

“We really need to work on our timing, don’t we?” Nana jokes, harmonious laughter escaping her as you see her anticipation, affection, and arousal merge, forming the euphoric expression she wears earnestly.

“Yeah, so maybe one interruption,” you say, laughing along with her until her mess of giggles comes to an end.

“But you are mine, Nana,” you whisper, your hot breath inflaming her senses as each syllable reaches her ears. “I am yours, and tonight belongs to no one else. Just us. Tonight is ours.”

“Perfect,” she whispers back, that single word a lit match she drops directly into your heart. “What now?”

“Show me,” you say, rolling you both and flipping your positions so she’s atop you. You give her control. Earnestly. You give her your trust. Easily. You give her your all. You give her everything.

When she takes your length in her hand, giving you your first hints of pleasure, you groan in relief. When she lines you up with her entrance and drips arousal onto your tip, you inhale through your teeth, hissing as if you’d been burned. And when she lowers herself onto you and takes you inside her, it literally takes your breath away.

“Fuuuck…” Nana hisses, sending your heart rate into the stratosphere. “It feels … so … fucking … amazing …”

“You’re incredible Nana,” you growl through gritted teeth, hands latching onto her hips and gripping tighter than you probably should. But any expectation of you being perfectly in control of yourself is entirely unreasonable when she’s moving like this, taking you deeper and deeper into her warmth at an agonizingly slow pace. You can’t help it; her face, her body, the way she quivers - you can’t tear your eyes away, not when you see the beads of sweat splattered across her furrowed brow. Not when you can practically hear the grinding of her tensed jaw. And certainly not when her closed eyelids hide those rich chocolate eyes.

“Take your time,” you whisper soothingly. “No need to rush, I’ll stay here forever as long as it’s with you.” You see some of the tension evaporate from her shoulders, but that does nothing for the vice grip she still has around your cock. Her progress accelerates slightly, taking on more and more of you with each passing moment before finally, finally your hips collide.

“There we go,” Nana mumbles, reopening her eyes and regaining a bit of that hubris you’ve come to know and … like. Having finally reached her destination, you can see the gears turning in Nana’s head as she starts to experiment, rolling her hips against yours and exploring all the possible sensations she can experience. One particular angle catches you off guard, causes you to moan even louder than before. You see it in her eyes, see how they immediately ignite. She repeats the motion, ripping another of those moans from deep within your chest as you see that gleefully sinister smile return.

The image of Nana bouncing up and down on your cock is obscene yet puts all other art to shame with its beauty. You simultaneously appreciate and despise her dancing background as she moves with unyielding precision. She places her hands on your shoulders as she continues exploring, utilizing her flexibility and strength to adjust her position and flex her muscles in ways you’d never thought possible, much less experienced.

“Oh my god Nana …” Your words trail off, lost to the pleasures of her latest findings, but they fan the flames all the same.

“Tell me how good that feels,” Nana purrs, punctuating her point by sliding herself back down onto the base of your cock. Then again. And again. And again.

“It feels so—FUCK!—ing good,” you manage to choke out, throwing your head back in pleasure. Almost instantly, Nana grabs you by the chin, pulling you forward and making it impossible to look anywhere else.

“Don’t you dare look anywhere else,” she growls, sending a new sensation down your spine as her ceaseless riding continues to chip away at your sanity. “Tell me how I make you feel.”

“You—ugh!” Words escape you, your mind unable to comprehend things other than pleasure and pain and Nana. Your grip tightens, tight enough to bruise, as you desperately try to cling to something, anything. “You feel amazing.”

“What else?” Nana asks, picking up the pace.

“You drive me insane,” you tell her, sparing her hips further punishment as you focus on her breasts once again.

“Tell me more,” she demands, riding you even faster.

“You’re unbelievable!” you yell, mustering what little oxygen remains as you match her volume.

“More.” Even faster.

“You’re perfect,” you say, voice dropping as her pitch rises.

“More!” Faster.

“I love how you make me feel.” Even quieter.

“More, more!!” she demands greedily, hips bouncing at a delirious pace as her face tenses once more.

“I love you Nana,” you whisper sweetly. But you refuse to let the sentiment disrupt the moment, following her hips up as you thrust into her and throw off her rhythm. “Cum for me.”

“FUCK—”

Nana somehow manages the impossible, staring through you with misty eyes as she succumbs to pleasure, drenching your lower half and the sheets below in her nectar as her orgasm violently overtakes her. It takes everything you have to remain motionless, cock painfully throbbing as you try not to overwhelm her. Each of you experiences the seconds as if they were lifetimes, you on the verge of pleasure and her well over the edge of it.

“You didn’t cum?” Nana asks, shifting slightly in your lap and forcing you to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from exploding inside her right then. She raises herself off of you, maintaining eye contact the entire time she moves away and positions herself between your legs. As she leans forward, opening her mouth and letting her warm breaths torment your torturously erect shaft further, she has the audacity to wink at you.

“Time to change that.”

The sight of her fucking tongue teasing the sensitive skin of your cock all the way from base to head is ungodly, and you know immediately, no camera flash required, that this image will be burned into your mind for all eternity. It’s almost demeaning how casually she destroys you, idly wrapping her fingers around your shaft as her tongue begins to swirl around the head of your cock. “Fucking hell Nana …”

If your words affect her, she’s doing a damned good job hiding it, drooling unapologetically all over the fingers that twist and pump your shaft, priming it as her mouth continues to work its way further and further down. And all the while, the entire time she molds you to her desires like putty in her hands, she holds your eyes. Lovingly. Expectantly. Enticingly.

“I’m close …” You try to warn her, but her hum in response sends an all-new type of shock all the way down your shaft, cutting off any further waste of oxygen. Your hands tangle into your sheets, threatening to shred them in your grip as you fight to keep the desire to let loose and absolutely defile her throat. “I’m gonna—”

Nana ignores your words, listening to the signs of your body as she delicately unwraps her small hand from around your shaft. The faintest flicker of disappointment flashes in the back of your mind, but it’s immediately eradicated as Nana forces herself downwards, catching you completely off-guard as she takes you into her throat, consuming you entirely.

“NANA!!” She rips her name out from deep within you, sending you soaring over the edge of orgasm as you are unmade by pleasure. Your body tenses and contracts, overwhelming pleasure pulsating from head to toe and every centimeter in between. Wave after wave after wave after wave of your cum fires into her mouth, but you’re unable to bear witness as your eyelids shield you from the unholy sight. It’s so much, so fast, that it drives you to the perfect intersection of pain and pleasure, leaving you unable to do anything but feel.

Eventually, your orgasm comes to an end, as all things must. The first thing you do is open your eyes to see Nana, mouth still snugly around your cock as she swallows the last of drops of your deluge. The second thing you do is remember to breathe. You watch as she detaches herself from your cock, then joins you, for the second time today, in an agonizing minute of shaking shoulders and heaving chests as you both attempt to force enough oxygen into your lungs to be able to speak. Fortunately, you’re both able to. You just happen to do so first.

“So … dinner? Or are you good … after …”

“I’m actually going to murder you,” she mutters, and you don’t even try to stop the laughter that forces its way out.

“You know, I was going to be upset at you for the whole ‘not maintaining eye contact’ thing,” Nana says with a smile of her own, climbing up the bed to lay against your side. “But considering I’m the one that made you nearly black out, I’ll give you a pass this time.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you offer, smiling sheepishly as you wrap an arm around her. “But you were—”

“Yeah, uh …” she interjects, trailing off as her rapid pulse quickly delivers a crimson flush to her cheeks. “I don’t know … it was just really nice—and really hot—to hear you say those things about me.”

“Any time,” you say as you lean in, gently kissing her on the crown of her head. “By the way, did you … I didn’t really see …”

“Oh, this?” Nana asks, opening her mouth wide to show you the tongue and walls, unbesmirched by white. “I’m sure you agree that was pretty hot, but I guess that means you don’t wanna—”

You roll over slightly, propping yourself up on your elbows as you climb over her once more, leaning down and cutting her sentence short as you capture her lips. A small squeak of surprise escapes before she matches your passion, wrapping her arms around your neck as your tongues begin to dance. As the intensity rises your heartbeat follows suit, sending blood all throughout your body and especially one place in particular.

“Not done, huh?” Nana murmurs, capturing your bottom lip between her teeth and gently sucking on it as she looks at you with her seductress’ gaze.

“For you? Never,” you murmur back, intent and invitation clear in your eyes.

“We’ll have to test that sometime …” Nana responds, mirth and mischief manifesting in her smile as she releases your lip. “For now though … show me.”

The kiss you leave on her lips is fleeting, acting more as a palate cleanser than any declaration or escalation. You grab a pillow with one hand, lifting Nana up with the other and placing it under the small of her back as you set the stage. With a bit of additional leverage gained and anticipation built, you line yourself up with her entrance, looking to Nana who nods in confirmation as you enter her once again.

You push further into her slowly, eager to reach the previous round’s intensity but mindful of her pleasure as her tightness suffocates your shaft. Ravenous for more, you lean in, greeted by the mixed scents of coconuts and cherry blossoms and sweat and everything else about her that makes your head spin. You’re quick to attack her neck again, latching onto one of the many spots you noted earlier and sucking relentlessly.

“Wait wait wait, no marks!” Nana exclaims, placing her hands on your shoulders and pushing you away from your target.

“I’m so sorry, I should have—” Your apology grinds to a halt as Nana, sinful gaze meeting your own, delicately lays a single finger against your lips.

“No … visible marks,” she clarifies, smirking seductively as she lowers her arms and offers you free reign once more.

You’re more than happy to seize the opportunity, capturing one of her nipples between your teeth and beginning your oral assault as you suck, swirl, and tease her with your tongue. One hand begins exploring her body, creating only the tiniest bit of contact as it glides over each area of her flawless skin, searching for unexpected pleasure points anywhere you can reach.

“Be vocal,” you murmur, breath rolling like fog over her breast. “I want nothing more than to know every single spot on your body that drives you wild.”

You see out of the corner of your eyes Nana opening her mouth, as if to respond, but as your hips collide once more and you fully bury your length inside of her, a deep, heady moan bulldozes through her best laid plans and tears free instead. As you begin to thrust faster, deeper, you sink your other hand below her waistline, searching only a moment before finding the sensitive bud of her clit and adding it to your list of ministrations.

“Tell me Nana, tell me what feels good,” you say, soothing voice a stark contrast to the frenetic pace at which you chase her pleasure.

“Your fucking mouth, I love how you suck on my—ugh!” Another day, you’d feel cruel for cutting her off so rudely, but honestly, who could blame you for doing what she asks? “And the way you feel inside me, thrusting in so deep …” This time, it’s a sharp intake of air, but you’re happy to earn another moan as you thrust deep inside her again. Then again, for good measure. One more time. “And I love the way you … with your hand … on my thigh … yesssss …” You’ll have to make a special note for that one, apparently figure eights are the best pattern to trace along the inside of her thighs. Who knew?

You get lost in the perfection that is Nana, thrusting wildly as you ride the high all the way up to the summit. You mar her flawless skin with marks of desire, leave little reminders of pleasure where no one else will see them. You feast on her skin, attempting to satiate a hunger you both know will never be sated. Your hands roam as well, acting with a mind of their own as one roams every uncharted inch of her skin while the other stays glued between her thighs, toying mercilessly with her most sensitive area. It’s plenty for you to keep track of, but if Nana’s reactions are anything to go by, it’s bordering on too much for her to handle.

Time’s a relative thing in general, but here, in the bedroom with Nana, there’s no eternity better spent. You chase your pleasures together, call and response, back and forth, her and you, united as one. You cherish the opportunity to care for Nana for once, bringing her pleasure in as many ways as possible. “Fuck!” You seek those profanities. “Oh god—” You crave those indecencies. “You’re gonna make me …” You hunt her peaks, and as she thrashes, shakes, quivers, and cries in your arms, you’re there to hold her the whole way down.

“Nana, I’m getting close,” you tell her, growing delirious as pleasure begins to overwhelm you. “Where—”

“I swear to god if you cum anywhere other than inside of me …” Nana threatens, though her glassy eyes and lolled tongue diminish the impact a bit.

You feel Nana’s legs wrap around your waist, pulling you in as her arms do the same. Her lips claim yours, capturing any senses that weren’t already completely overwhelmed by her and her alone. As you lean into her, tongues dancing as your body disconnects from your mind, pleasure shoots through your veins like a shot or seventy of adrenaline. If you were any more coherent, you might’ve been able to enjoy the details, like the way your cock’s twitching or the way Nana shudders slightly each time you fire another shot into her or the way you keep pumping, refusing to let any of your cum go anywhere but as deep as you can fuck it inside her. Unfortunately, all you experience is the taste of Nana on your lips and the red, foggy haze of rapture that permeates your fucking soul. Unlucky, really.

Your orgasm ends, eventually. You force yourself to pull away, force yourself to focus so that you can see the elated expression of a well-fucked Nana. There’s the faintest hint of tears in the corners of her eyes, each one earned at her own apex of pleasure. You withdraw further, pulling out of her fully, then lay beside her and pull her into your arms.

“Hey there beautiful, you alright?”

“Not the word I would use,” Nana murmurs into your chest. “We should get caught in the rain more often …”

Once again, quiet laughter escapes you, as it always seems to when you’re with Nana. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you promise. “In the meantime, we should probably get cleaned up and showered.”

“Not yet …” Nana groans, lightly smacking you like you’re an alarm clock disrupting her beauty sleep.

“Okay okay, no rush,” you respond, pulling her close and allowing the sounds of the gentle rain to fill the room. You treasure the tranquility, basking in the simple sensations of her hands in yours and her soft breaths against your chest. Many stanzas later, the storm’s song softens, then slowly comes to a close, but you stay there together, finding solace in each other’s embrace. Eventually, once Nana’s fully recovered, you get up to turn the shower on and begin grabbing things, giving her everything she needs: tissues, wipes, water, hugs, kisses, and your undivided attention.

“I know this is an incredibly egotistical question, but can you walk?” you ask, smiling sheepishly as she rolls her eyes. “Or do you want me to carry you?”

“Yes, I can, but carry me anyways,” Nana declares, throwing open her arms and waiting expectantly.

“As you wish,” you declare with a flourish, bowing deeply before scooping Nana into your arms and carrying her bridal style into the bathroom.

“Showering together?” she asks suggestively and shamelessly.

“Showering together,” you reply warmly, setting her down and testing the water. “Let me spoil you for a bit, no need to rush.”

“Very well,” she accepts, stepping into the shower. “Now hurry and get in here so I don’t have to warm you up all over again.”

“Yes ma’am,” you respond, climbing in after her. You’ve never been more grateful for your replacement shower head and its absurd water pressure, though you make sure to get close to Nana just in case.

Even as you two rinse yourselves off, you can’t help but be mesmerized by the water flowing down Nana’s perfect figure. You watch as the many drops coat each long strand of her flowing golden locks, run down each beautiful feature that comprises her face, then finally succumbs to gravity after tracing every last millimeter of her jawline. From there, you follow their journey as they land on her collarbone and continue on into sacred territory. Thousands of individual droplets gently caress the curvature of her breasts as they pass by, while thousands more race down the soft skin of the arms and hands that inspire so many fans to dream of their embrace. For those droplets lucky enough to remain attached after traveling past her abs and below her waist, a pair of gently toned legs defined by years upon years of dance await. Finally, between the pale skin of her inner thighs, the perfectly shaven holy place of indecent desires and fantasies awaits a lucky few. Lucky you.

“You’re staring again,” Nana says, breaking you out of your reverie as she smiles shyly.

“Nana, I absolutely am,” you admit freely, shamelessly. “You’re right here in front of me and I still can’t believe you’re real.”

“Oh, um … thanks,” Nana mumbles, turning away from you just as you see a familiar splash of crimson.

“You’re welcome, now hold still,” you tell her, grabbing a bottle of conditioner and squeezing some into your hand. “Let me wash your hair.”

“Oh! I mean, okay …”

You spread the viscous liquid across your hands, then begin massaging it into the many, many strands of gold that flow together and form her hair. “This conditioner worked wonderfully back when I had lighter highlights, so hopefully it should be fine for you too.”

You trail off, focusing on the task at hand and the silk between your fingertips, but you can’t help but add, “But I wouldn’t mind buying some of whatever you normally use and keeping it here … just in case.”

Nana turns back, glaring at you for a moment before allowing you to continue. “That’s a sentence with a whole lot of implications, but you’re cute so I’ll let you get away with it.”

“Good to know! I promise to not use that information responsibly,” you jest, grinning uncontrollably as Nana huffs in indignation. “Okay, let that sit for a couple minutes before rinsing it out.”

Nana turns, stepping closer to you and keeping her hair out of the waterflow as she does so. “Can I wash yours?”

“Of course,” you tell her, handing her the bottle before closing your eyes and leaning down to allow her easier access.

“Thank you …” she murmurs. After a few anticipatory moments in the dark, you feel her hands start working their way across your head, massaging you and coating your own strands in that same liquid that you apply on a daily basis, but have never experienced like this.

A whine slips past your lips as she finishes and pulls away, causing a score of giggles to emerge as you open your eyes to see the adorable, joyous expression of Nana’s smiling face. “So, what’s next?”

“I’m going to wash my body with this,” you tell her, holding up a bottle of body wash as you hand her a different one. “And you can wash yourself with that, because if I end up putting my hands all over your body, we’re never getting out of here.”

“You’re probably right,” Nana admits, mischief taking over her smile. “However …”

“You’re not the one paying the water bill, shush!” you exclaim, turning away and beginning to lather yourself up. Nana’s laughter rings out once more, reverberating off the tight walls of your shower as she too begins to wash herself of the improprieties that cover every centimeter of each of your bodies.

Somehow, you both manage to behave, rinsing yourselves off before getting out and toweling yourselves dry. Nana sits as you brush her hair like Rapunzel, blow drying it slowly as you meticulously work your way through her golden mane. It isn’t easy to find a comfortable set of clothes for her to wear, but with a pair of rolled pant legs and a hair-tied shirt, you’re able to make do. Together, you eagerly order delivery from your favorite chicken restaurant, and while you’re waiting, begin the process of cleaning up.

Nana helps you strip your sheets, the most traumatized victims of your shared endeavors, off your bed, then assists you in wrangling a new set onto the mattress. Your heart glows with warmth at how right it feels to perform such a mundane household activity with her, even as the fitted sheet snaps up once again and nearly hits you in the face. Nana’s laughter rings out first, but yours is close behind, warding off any frustration as you enjoy the little simplicities of spending time with her. You both clean up your kitchen, sending your soaked clothes to join your laundry as hers go into the wash, cleansing them of the rain’s influence as you both settle on the couch.

“I think that’s everything we needed to take care of,” you say, just as a thought crosses your mind. “Do we need to get you some—”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been taking precautions for a bit. You know, just in case,” Nana tells you, tone relaxed but eyes alight with mischief.

“You—what—just in case?!” you sputter. “Since when?!”

“That night Wooyeon walked in on us,” Nana remarks casually. “I wasn’t gonna let you kiss me like that without finishing the job.”

You’re frozen in silence, unsure whether to follow-up with confusion, accusations, questions, gratitude, or something else entirely, but the familiar cadence of the delivery man’s knocks on the door saves you from needing an answer. After enjoying your meals and making some light conversation, you both end up on your insanely comfy couch, curled up together under your stupidly soft blanket as Nana selects another movie, this time opting for a cheesy romance flick that she swears is different from the rest. Ultimately, she’s not wrong, as any experience shared with Nana ends up being far more enjoyable than the alternatives, and you end up enjoying yourself quite a bit. You lay with her, laugh with her, and hold her close as you wipe away her tears.

Enthralled by Nana and her investment in the movie, you barely even notice as the hours pass, the clouds dissipate, and the sun shines bright for a fleeting flash before disappearing below the skyline. It’s not until the movie finishes, fading to black for the final time, that you note the darkness that’s overtaken the world outside your little corner of paradise. After confirming with her other members that she’s free tomorrow, Nana joins you getting ready for bed.

“Here, this has barely been used,” you tell her, handing her a toothbrush and smiling as a thought enters your mind. “I guess I’ll just have to get you one of those too.”

“You just might have to,” Nana says, wide grin mirroring your own as you both begin your nightly routines.

A short while later, after locking up and killing all the lights, you join Nana in bed. It’s an odd sensation as you turn off your alarm clock, something you haven’t done in months, maybe even years, but when you see the weary eyes Nana’s fighting to keep open, you decide it’s for the best. You turn to her, exchanging good night’s and I love you’s before she closes in, kissing you tenderly before turning away and snuggling close against your body. You two form a perfect fit as you hold her, refusing to let go even as sleep overtakes you. Tonight, you have neither prayers nor requests, simply gratitude for the blessing in your arms. Tonight, you dream of neither girl nor ghost, simply a warm silence that wraps itself around you in a familiar embrace.

tick…

tock…

For once, for the first time in a long, long while, your awakening is not sudden, but serene. Your eyes slowly open, witnessing the twin golden glows that illuminate the tranquil space in their soft, mellow light. You’re forced to squint slightly at the brightness of the rays of light filtering through the window, but even the rising sun pales in comparison to the radiance resting within your embrace. Nana’s resting expression is one of bliss, subtle curves of a smile hidden at the edges of her lips even as she leisurely draws breath.

Somehow, sometime in the middle of the night, she seems to have interwoven your hand with hers, clutching it tightly against her breast as she lies dormant. You can’t help but feel, in this moment, it seems almost too perfect to be a dream. Like your mind wouldn’t even entertain this as achievable in a best-case scenario. Yet here you are, blessed beyond imagination.

You get an idea, hoping to surprise her with breakfast. You slowly, delicately attempt to remove your hand from hers, but are stopped suddenly as her grip tightens. “Stopppp …”

“You’re awake?” you ask in surprise.

“Of course, since before you woke up,” Nana murmurs, pulling you closer. “I just wanted you to hold me longer.”

“Nana, I …” Your words trail off, your mind unable to even form words as you try to comprehend how you could possibly deserve something this perfect. “Thank you … Are you hungry? I was going to go make breakfast—”

“Breakfast can wait,” Nana interjects, flipping over to face you as she snuggles in even closer. “Just stay with me, like this. Please.”

This time, at least, you know exactly what to say. “Of course, Nana. Anything for you.”

She remains silent, but the pounding of her heart tells you everything you’d ever need to know. You do as she asks, pulling the covers back over you as you wrap your arm around Nana, pulling her closer as you plant a gentle kiss atop her head. Somewhere, deep in the back of your mind, you know that the clock ticks ever onwards. But as you look down and see the little smile that only you seem to bring out of Nana, you realize there’s no better way to spend an eternity than moments like this with the one you love. You’ll stay. Forever, if she wants. And with the way she clings to you, like you’re the only thing keeping her on Earth instead of up with the other angels, you trust that she’ll stay too. Maybe even forever.

tick…

tock…

tick…

tock…

“So, is hugging a common thing with you? Like, do you greet everyone you meet by trying to break their ribs?”

“Are you complaining about my hugs?!” Nana gasps, unwrapping her arms from around you and pulling away.

“No, absolutely not!” you exclaim, nearly tripping over your words as they leave your mouth at the speed of light. “I’m just curious, okay? It seems like a big thing with you.”

“Fine, I’ll answer your ridiculous question,” Nana says, retaking your arm. “I occasionally give hugs to people I’m close to. I often hug those I care about most. I always hug you.”

“Oh,” you manage to say. Your curiosity sated; you allow the comfortable silence to return. As you two walk together, you marvel at the vibrant streets, delighted in the changing of the seasons as spring brings its warmth to what was a desolate Korean winter wasteland.

Unfortunately, a single dark shop stands out amongst the rows of brightly lit stores that litter both sides of the street. Your destination, Aunt Kim’s noodle shop, seems empty.

“Oh no, it’s closed! If only someone had an apartment nearby where we could spend the evening instead,” Nana announces dramatically, looking up at you and waggling her eyebrows shamelessly.

“If only,” you say, tugging her along. “Let’s go see if she left a note saying when she’ll be back.”

“‘Closed this evening for a special occasion’,” Nana reads aloud. “‘Will return to normal business tomorrow.’ That’s strange, I wonder what’s so important that she was willing to close the shop.”

“Strange indeed,” you agree, searching around in your pocket for a moment before pulling out a key. “Wanna find out?”

Before she even has the chance to respond, you unlock the door, pushing it open and holding it for her as you invite her in.

“Give me a sec!” you call out, venturing into the darkness as she follows you inside.

“What? How did you …” Nana trails off, covering her eyes as you flip the switch and restore light to the establishment. Within, two steaming bowls wait upon a small table near the left corner of the store; upon “your” table, the one where you two have always sat over the past couple of months, the one with the edge broken off, the one that’s imperfect, but that’s okay, because nothing is. Well, except Nana.

“No but really, what is going on?” Nana asks, walking as if in a daze as she joins you at the table.

“I wanted to do something nice for you for your birthday,” you explain, pulling out the chair for her. “I thought it’d be nice to have the place to ourselves for once, and Aunt Kim was kind enough to agree. She seemed more than willing to help out, probably because of our … ahem, ‘generous contributions’ to the store.”

“Ah, I see,” Nana chuckles, smiling brightly. “Thank you, but you really didn’t have to do all this …”

“Maybe,” you admit with a shrug. “But for you, I’d do anything. This is the first time I’ve gotten to do something sweet for you, just let me spoil you for one night.”

“Alright, fine,” Nana says, huffing in mock exasperation. “Then let’s eat!”

You both eagerly dig in, savoring the familiar tastes of your favorite meals. Unsurprisingly, even as the flavors dance along your tastebuds, the sight of Nana in front of you is all that matters. Even with her golden color replaced by a dark chocolate brown, her radiant visage shines under the warm amber glow of the Edison bulbs above. You lose yourself in the sight of her, food long forgotten until her voice brings you back to reality.

“This is soooooooooo good, did you make this?”

“Oh, gods no,” you exclaim, earning a laugh from each of you. “Aunt Kim was kind enough to make it just before we arrived.”

“Okay good,” Nana replies, wry smirk locked and loaded as she continues to fire shots. “I don’t think I would have ever been able to forgive you if you brought me here just to subject me to your cooking.”

“Oh, come on,” you say, rolling your eyes and turning away to hide the smile you can’t contain. “You know you love me.”

“Obviously.”

That single word has no right to hit as hard as it does, but you can’t help but whip back around to face her. You pause, allowing the smile to slip as your voice drops. “I love you.”

“Believe it or not, even more obvious,” she responds, still attempting to hide behind levity. But you see it in the faint glimmer of her eyes, in the way her lips part slightly, in the way she leans in just the slightest bit closer.

You don’t have to move far to close the distance, leaning in and gently pressing your lips against hers. The combination of the dishes’ flavors explodes across your senses, adding a new type of spice to one of your favorite activities. Even more than usual, it drives you crazy, amplifying your hunger as you greedily up the intensity, wrapping your hand around the back of her neck and—

“Honestly, at this point, I’m not even surprised.”

Nana immediately breaks away from the kiss, turning to see Wooyeon walking in, a box in one hand and her forehead in the other.

“Seriously, we just keep having the worst timing,” you say, laughing warmly as you stand to greet her. “Thanks again for picking this up, I really appreciate it.”

“You’re very welcome,” Wooyeon responds, taking a seat next to Nana. “Your place is nice by the way.”

“Wait, you’re telling me Wooyeon got a key to your place before I did?” Nana asks indignantly. “Unbelievable, really.”

Your laughter follows you as you retreat to the kitchen, where you grab Wooyeon’s meal and return to the table. “That is a good point, I should be careful who I give those out to.”

“Indeed,” Wooyeon says, smirking sinisterly. “I might just invite myself in some time.”

“Alright alright, enough,” Nana declares as you burst into a quiet fit of laughter. “Please, can we try to have a normal dinner? It’d be nice to have an interaction between my two closest friends that isn’t awkward or cut short for once.”

The two of you agree and all three of you dive back into your dinners, casually conversing about your days, how good the food is, and basically anything at all. You happily join in, enjoying the chance to get to know Wooyeon better and seeing a new side of Nana that only her friend and fellow idol can bring out. A month ago, you never could have imagined seamlessly going from conversations about your work to stories about their backstage adventures to what movies they’d watched recently. Yet, on this especially significant day, you’re happy to join Nana at the intersection between her personal and professional life. You’re happy to make a joke and be blessed by the harmonization of Nana and Wooyeon laughing together. It’s musical, it’s magical, it’s meant to be.

“Now, will you tell me what’s in the box?” Nana eventually asks.

Wooyeon looks to you for confirmation, then reaches down and opens it, revealing an overly frosted, downright cartoonish-looking piece of cake that looks like it was taken right out of a Kirby game.

“Oh my god it’s perfect!” Nana exclaims, eagerly grabbing for her phone as you take a finger and run it through the icing. “Hey! I was gonna take a picture of that!!”

A devious smile creeps across your face as you lean forward, booping Nana on the nose and getting frosting everywhere. “HEY!”

You immediately lean away, desperately attempting her wild assault as Nana attempts to return the favor. Within a minute, you’re out of breath from laughing so hard, and from the corner of your eye you can see Wooyeon not faring much better. Nana catches you, of course, and you’re forced to suffer the consequences of your actions as bits of frosting are smeared all across your face.

Eventually, the commotion settles and you’re all able to enjoy the piece in peace, savoring the wonderful flavors as you share it together. Well after the sun sets, well after the streets outside go dark and the clock ticks past the shop’s normal closing time, the three of you remain, sharing stories, telling tales, and enjoying each other’s company. As always, a small part of you rues the passage of time, knowing that this too must come to an end. But for as long as you possibly can, you preserve this moment, refusing to take it for granted as you treasure the memory being made. Because you know that you’ll remember this night for the rest of your life. Because nights like this make you realize you’ve been gifted everything you could have ever wished for.

(My sincerest gratitude to @braaan and @majorblinks for reviewing this fic, I can’t thank you enough for how much your insights improved it and how much your love & support meant to me. This fic is dedicated to @capslocked, a known believer, and @okaylikesmomo, the newest member of the cult. I hope you enjoyed reading this story about hugs that happened to feature smut; the next story idea I intend to finish features far more snark and smut, with no hugs in sight. Anticipate it at your own risk.)

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #idol x reader #idol x male reader #nana smut #nana fanfic #wooah nana #el7z up #wooah #kpop fluff

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