#the way to a girl's heart is through very nice vegetables

[winterrrnight]

“and so we meet” — new beginnings chapter I

PAIRING: stepdad!soft!rafe x mom!reader

WARNINGS: none!

EDITH SPEAKS: this is just the first chapter, so please please bare with me as it’s certainly not the best, and it’s also very short. the plot will pick up speed as we move along, and there’s so much planned for the three of them!! if you enjoyed reading it, please reblog, and share your thoughts with me 🍂

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next chapter ->

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“Sage! Don’t run off like that!” You yell out, watching the little figure giggling as she rushes in one of the aisles of the grocery stores you're in. No matter how hard you try, you can never try to control your daughter, she’s like a little energy packet.

But you also trust her, knowing she won’t pick something unknown off the shelves and open it up, or bother someone in the store. Letting her have her fun, you direct your attention to the vegetables you initially came to shop for.

As you’re filling up your basket with everything you may need, you hear someone clear their throat behind you.

“Excuse me?”

You hear a masculine voice along with the throat clearing, and you turn around to see a strange man with your daughter next to him, her holding onto his hand.

“Sage what did you do?” You say sternly, picking her up in your arms. “I’m so sorry about that, she’s one little restless child,” you chuckle.

“That’s okay,” the stranger says, and you look up to see the most alluring pair of blue eyes you’ve ever seen. “She was just running around and crashed into me without realizing,”

“Oh- oh Sage you’ve got to control yourself!” You tell her, but your daughter only giggles at your words. “Again, I’m so sorry about her,”

The stranger chuckles. “It really is okay, she’s really cute,”

A moment of silence drapes around you both, as you’re looking at your shoes and the stranger is looking around. There is something so odd about this person, something so oddly attractive that isn’t letting you go of this situation you’re in quicker.

“Well, it was really nice meeting you…” you trail off, not knowing what name to put on this face.

“Oh- Rafe,” he smiles at you.

“Rafe. It was nice meeting you Rafe, I hope we’ll see you again someday,” you smile, as you start to push your cart with one hand, and your daughter on your hip.

“Byeeee!” She says excitedly with a fit of giggles, waving at the man vigorously. You hear him chuckle at her actions, and you can’t help but let a smile grace your face.

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As you’re strapping Sage into her car seat, you feel someone tap on your shoulder. You turn around to see Rafe.

“Rafe?” You ask quizzically, not sure why your next meeting should be this soon.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, but you left these,” he puts out his hand and you see your keys on his palm, “keys while you were packing everything up,”

“Oh my god,” you gasp, realizing those are your house keys. “Thank you so much Rafe, we’ve been bothering you so much today,” you laugh nervously.

“Nonsense, I’ve loved meeting you two,” he smiles at you and looks at Sage through the window, but she’s already asleep.

“Well, thank you again,” You smile as you start to make your way to the driver’s seat.

“I didn’t catch your name!” He says out loud, just as you’re about to close your car door.

“It’s y/n, don’t forget us,” you tease, and you drive away. Rafe watches your car drive away with a smile on his face and a beat in his heart.

“Oh I definitely won’t.”

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TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @tahliac11 @sadfury @newsies-pape-girl @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @rafeinterlude @rylie-m @zulema222 @karmasloverrr @leixwhite02 @congratsloserr @rubixgsworld

(please let me know if you would like to be added or removed! if you would like to be added to my general taglist, please refer the ‘join my taglist’ post linked on top!)

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron obx #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #soft rafe cameron #rafe obx #stepdad!rafe #soft!rafe cameron #soft!rafe x reader #soft!rafe #stepdad!rafe x mom!reader #mom!reader #new beginnings #written by edith! 🪄

[soap-ify]

single!dad price thoughts are invading my head tonight so i'm just thinking about reader being the new neighbour of price and his sweet little daughter after just having gotten rid of your awful previous life.

notes price is a little sick in the head in the end but i love myself a man a little bit insane.

you had just moved into a new town after your boyfriend — more like ex — had kicked you out of the apartment you both lived in after an argument he started and escalated to the point of no return.

he was a toxic weirdo anyways.

you had picked out a nice small apartment in the nearby town with the little money you had, and even applied for a job in the local supermarket. it was time to start a new life.

the first few days were just exhausting as you tried to manage this new job of yours and properly set your apartment up, calculating the future expenses and everything else. just too much work. plus it was too easy to get lost in a new town too.

though your neighbour was the sweetest man you had met. tall and rugged, yet having this sense of gentleness adorning his features constantly whenever your eyes would meet his, making your heart literally melt.

he had a little daughter too, definitely not older than five. her name was beth and she was the sweetest girl you had ever met, always coming to greet you whenever her father and her would spot you across the street, always urging you to walk with them, rambling everything about some silly stuff she liked. these types of interactions always seemed to happen, making you feel more and more connected to this little family, even making you feel as if you were a part of them.

john was always there to help you. got a leaking pipe somewhere in your bathroom? expect it to be fixed soon. ran out of vegetables? he was just about to go to the grocery store too! he’ll give you company.

he somehow always knew that something was going to go wrong in your apartment or literally anything else. he was observant, those blue eyes of his always taking note of each move of yours, reading you like an open book.

a part of you wished that he actually took fancy of you. he was just so different from all the other men in your life — he actually listened.

soon came a night where your heater just ran out, on a very cold night too. you were trying to get as much warmth as you could get from your blanket and even tried to make some hot chocolate, but nothing seemed to calm your shivering body down.

too overwhelmed and cold, you sheepishly made your way to your neighbour’s apartment door after wearing the warmest sweater you owned, feeling awful for disturbing john at this hour, frustrated tears stinging your eyes.

john was quick to open the door once you knocked on it, surprised to see you at this late hour. his other hand held a glass filled with scotch while he was dressed lazily in a pair of sweatpants and a nice sweater, fully warmed up. he looked so cozy.

“h-heater broke and it’s too cold in my apartment… i don’t know what to do.” you managed to mumble out through your chattering teeth, your arms hugging yourself.

poor little thing. john’s eyes looked up and down your dishevelled form, a concerned frown soon making its way on his face. he should just go and fix your heater for you, but that’d take too long, right?

“no worries, love. why don’t you spend the night here? beth and i were just having a late night christmas movies marathon.” he cracked his signature smile, making you feel oddly warm all over again, eyes looking up at him with utmost gratitude and even some traces of fondness.

he guided you inside, showing you the way to the kitchen where beth was sitting, having jumped excitedly and rushed over to hug you tight with her little arms once she saw you. "hello!" she happily chirped, making you smile.

after john had given you some blankets, you sank down onto the couch next to him with beth in between you both, a relaxing feeling settling deep within you as your eyes looked over at the movie playing on the telly.

john’s eyes watched you throughout the movie, multiple ideas swarming inside his head. maybe he should secretly mess up your heater one day so you can come more and more to spend the nights here.

maybe he can somehow convince you to start living with them forever. after all, nobody had ever made him feel like this except you before, made him feel so obsessed.

#giggles do you guys see the vision here #price thoughts sudden infiltrating my head like ?? #single dad price for the win #he is a bit fucked up but whatever #john price x reader #price x reader #john price #call of duty #cod x reader #rurufic

[drabblesandimagines]

Fearless

Based on this request. Clive Rosfield x fem reader Established relationship, fluff 1,220 words

You’ve always been good at putting on a facade, holding your nerve in life or death situations – part of everyday life, really, since joining the Cursebreakers – but as you grow closer to your destination, it’s getting harder to make your legs comply. “Are you sure, Clive?” You slow in your walk, your voice soft, but he still hears.

Clive stops in his stride then, steps in front of you and places one hand on your shoulder and his other warm palm cups your face with a sympathetic smile. “I promise it’ll be fine. Have I ever led you astray before, my darling?”

“No, you haven’t… but I must confess I’m still nervous.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead in his reassuring way – he’s all about soft, sweet touches. “I’ll be with you the whole time, all right?”

You nod, though you know it’s not coming across as a confident one. He smiles, encouragingly, and moves his hand down from your cheek to tilt your chin upwards so he can kiss you chastely on the lips. It’s all too brief, a distraction perhaps, as he then wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you tight to his side and continues to lead you down the path into the clearing he’d scouted out for this particular excursion – free of fiends and blight. It would be a nice spot for a romantic picnic, you think… or literally anything else than what Clive has planned.

Once you’ve reached the centre, he slips his arm away and takes a step back, facing you with a look on his face that reminds you of how excited Torgal gets for one of his treats. “Ready, my lady?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

He holds his fingers up to his lips and lets out a long whistle. It’s almost like magic, really, with how quickly the silver white chocobo appears out of nowhere. She charges into the clearing with impressive speed and you quickly sidestep to stand behind Clive’s stature. The chocobo’s head is bowed down low, squawking, until she comes to an abrupt stop a few metres away from you both.

“Hello, Ambrosia.” Clive greets, rubbing her head softly as she bows it to him, now letting out soft, sweet kwehs. “How have you been, girl?”

For the majority of your life, you’ve been terrified of chocobos. It’s an understandable fear – as Clive had repeatedly reassured you upon discovery – considering your past.

You’d made it to your seventh Name Day before being discovered as a Bearer, quickly Branded and sold off to a noble in the countryside who made his gil through agriculture. The days were spent toiling in the fields - turning over the soil, planting seeds, harvesting - and the nights were spent sleeping in the chocobo stables. Unfortunately, your former master treated both his Branded and chocobos with the same amount of affection – forced to share the same dirty water trough and the same buckets full of food scraps.

There was some sort of unspoken bond between you and your fellow Bearers to share everything equally – favours repaid to one another in the field, throwing a couple more vegetables in their basket at the tally count to avoid a lashing. But chocobos have awful sharp claws to go along with their hungry stomachs.

You’re torn from your daydreaming by Clive saying your name, catching the tail-end of him introducing you. There was always a certain glint in his eye when he told you tales of growing up in Rosaria, especially involving Ambrosia. The young Rosfield had raised her from a chick, for Founder’s sake. She’d saved his life at Phoenix Gate, lost her eye in the process… so if there’s a chocobo to like, she’s definitely the one to like.

She draws up to her full height then, flapping her wings and your heart pounds – a flashback to a night where you very nearly lost your fingers to a sharp beak.

“Can you lie down for me?” Clive asks the bird, softly. Ambrosia folds her wings back to her sides, immediately lying down, tilting her head quizzically at her master. “Good girl.”

You remain standing behind the Fire Dominant, using him as a shield, but you know it won’t last much longer as he turns to you.

“Will you say hello?”

You take a breath – you’ve faced far scarier things, you know you have – a morbal, a couerl… Tarja’s wrath when you returned to the Hideaway exhausted and wounded.

“H-hello, Ambrosia.”

The chocobo kwehs loudly, thankfully staying settled on the ground. Clive slips an arm around your waist, squeezing your side.

“She likes you already, you know? I’ve told her a lot about you. She’s a very good listener.”

“Mm.”

“Would you like to touch her?”

“I…” Your hands are trembling at the thought.

“I would never force you, you know that, but you’re doing so well.” Clive grabs your hand, squeezing it. “We could do it together.”

“All right.” You’ve come this far after all, but there is a definite waiver in your voice.

“Ambrosia won’t peck you,” he laces his fingers through yours then. “But we’ll do it like this, so she’d only get me if she did. But you have my solemn vow that she won’t.”

You trust Clive with your very life after all, so you swallow – your throat incredibly dry – and nod. Clive grins, stepping behind you then, wrapping one arm around your stomach to pull you back into his chest. He begins to guide your intertwined hands up to the bird’s side, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand in reassurance the whole time as your fingers brush against her feathers.

She’s incredibly soft, is the first thing you notice. Different from the sharpness you’ve always associated with chocobos. Ambrosia swivels her head to watch, softly kwehing away.

“She’s beautiful, Clive.” Your fingers relax a little into a gentle stroke.

“As are you, my darling.” He murmurs in your ear, pressing a kiss against your temple as he does.

The two of you stand there a little while longer, continuing to stroke Clive��s loyal steed. Ambrosia tucks her head against her chest, seeming to nestle down for a nap. It’s incredibly sweet.

You don’t even notice when Clive moves his hand away, slyly – only realising when you feel his other arm wrap around your waist.

“I’m so proud. You truly continue to astonish me every day with how remarkable you are, and how lucky I am to bear witness to it.”

“No,” you pull your hand away cautiously, but continue to look at Ambrosia. “I’m not-“

He spins you round in his arms then – Ambrosia doesn’t even move, content in her slumber – and puts on a pout. “Beautiful and brave and I will not hear otherwise.”

You can’t refuse that particular face, even when he’s not being entirely serious, and caress his cheek, and stare into his stormy blue eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to do it without you - truly. I love you so much, Clive.”

He sinks into your touch. “I love you too, my darling.” He pulls you even closer, if it was possible, and embraces your lips passionately – your reward – teasing your bottom lip with his teeth. His kisses still leave you almost dizzy and he knows it.

“Now, how about a ride?”

--

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#ghostdogwrites #final fantasy xvi #clive rosfield #clive rosfield x reader #clive rosfield x you #clive rosfield fluff #ffxvi x reader

[theemporium]

[1.5k] neither you nor jj were overtly romantic or bothered by valentine’s day, but sometimes it was nice to give your lover a surprise. (smut)

.

JJ Maybank wasn’t a hopeless romantic in any sense of the phrase. 

He was a realist, he didn’t have high expectations and he sure as hell didn’t ever think his life would turn out like one of those shabby rom-coms John B would rope them into watching because he was a fucking sucker for them. 

To be completely honest, JJ didn’t even think romance or anything like that would be in his life at all. He thought he was destined for one night stands, meaningless hookups and a life of bachelorhood. 

Somehow, by some fucking dumb sheer luck, he had found you. And the way you got together was not necessarily romantic or over-the-top or a story that would make people’s hearts swoon. 

But it was your story and that was more than enough for him. 

“Baby?” 

“Yeah?”

“Do you think this cheese is safe to eat?” 

There was a pause as JJ hunched over the counter, poking the block of cheese with the knife as he stared at the odd spots. He was peckish and the block of cheddar was quite literally the only thing in the chateau fridge. 

“Jay, baby, please throw the cheese in the fucking bin.” 

He snorted, almost seeing the way your nose scrunching in disgust despite the fact you were sat in the other room. There were a few moments of silence before he heard your voice again. 

“I’m serious, Maybank.” 

“Okay, okay, it’s in the bin.”

With a huff, he did a quick scope over the fridge and cupboards once again just to make sure there weren’t any potential snacks he had missed out on, only to let out a small huff when he realised the kitchen was quite literally empty. 

Shutting the fridge door, he began to shuffle through the narrow corridor towards the back of the chateau, towards the bedroom he had practically taken over. You had the place to yourselves most of the time these days since John B was mostly following Sarah about, sneaking in and out of Tanny Hill with ease considering the place was a damn mansion and big enough to hide in even when her parents were home. Not that JJ was complaining or going out of his way to actively discourage his friend, he enjoyed having the place to himself. 

Except when he was left on grocery duty. He fucking hated grocery duty. 

But he knew he could rope you into it pretty easily, flashing you that puppy dog look that usually got him what he wanted. But also the fact you would never trust him to do a run alone, considering the last time the chateau was stocked to the brim with beer and junk food with not a single vegetable in sight. 

“Hey baby, do you wanna go—” 

Yet, the question on his lips quickly came to a stop as he stepped into the bedroom and found you lying on the bed, sprawled out just for him. 

Now, the sight itself was nothing new to JJ. In fact, he was one goddamn lucky bastard that it was a sight he saw pretty fucking often. Just like the sight of you in his clothes—as you were now—was not a new sight.

It was something you did even before the two of you started dating and he could never quite find it within himself to be mad. He was a boy with very few possessions that he could truly label as his own, yet you stealing them from under his nose and prancing around the island in his clothes made his chest puff out more than he cared to admit. 

He liked you in his clothes. He really liked you in his clothes. He especially liked fucking you in his clothes. 

But the thing that left the boy standing aimlessly in the doorway with his brain unable to process anything other than the pretty girl lying on his bed was not the fact you were wearing one of his cut-off tanks. No, it was the peaks of black lace that caught his attention. 

Black lace lingerie. 

“I…you…woah,” he murmured hopelessly, eyes glued to the way his shirt shifted when you moved to sit up, hiding what little he could see of your panties and he found himself recklessly wanting to reach forward and rip his shirt off you so nothing could hide them from him. 

“I like it when you get all tongue-tied,” you commented with a grin, watching as the blushing boy shuffled towards the bed until his knees hit the mattress and he slowly lowered down onto the floor. 

“Am I dreaming?” he murmured mostly to himself. “Because if I am, don’t wake me up. Please.” 

You snorted. “You aren’t dreaming, baby.” 

“Did I do something good recently?” JJ continued, his eyes glazed over as his hands gripped your knees, slowly gliding upwards only to let out a small whine when you batted his hands away from the edge of the tank top. “Is this what I get for good behaviour?” 

“Would you be a good boy if this was your reward, Maybank?” 

“Baby, I would be the best fucking boy for you.” 

You grinned as you clamped your lower lip between your teeth, reaching to grip his chin with your hand and push his head up until his gaze met yours. You could see the desire blown out in his eyes, the look of pure neediness and want, the look that made you clench your thighs together. 

“Just thought my boy deserved a little Valentine's treat,” you told him as your thumb brushed against his lower lip. “A little festive lovin’.” 

He lightly nipped your thumb, a mischievous glint in his ocean blue eyes.. “Does that mean I get to unwrap my present?” 

“That means you can do whatever you want, baby,” you whispered as you leaned your head down close enough so your lips were brushing against his. “You wanna fuck me in this little number, then you can fuck me in it.” 

“Shit,” JJ hissed as he felt his cock harden in his shorts. “You can’t just say stuff like that.” 

Your eyes glimmered in amusement. “I can’t?”

“You’re a fucking vixen,” he muttered before his hand reached for the back of your neck, pulling your lips down onto his in a heated, messy kiss. 

JJ didn’t even hesitate, not as the sound of fabric tearing echoed through the room or the soft thump as he dropped his ruined tank to the floor. Not as he tugged you to the edge of the bed, your ass barely hanging off the edge and your legs thrown over his shoulders. 

And definitely not when he kissed your clothed clit, listening to the pretty whines you let out as he teased you over the lacy fabric.

“Jay,” you breathed out in a low moan as his tongue swiped over the fabric of your panties. “Please.” 

“It’s my present, baby,” he murmured against you, his warm breath fanning over your cunt and making you squirm underneath him. “I can do what I want.” 

For once in his goddamn life, JJ Maybank was fucking patient and it made you want to scream. 

You squirmed and wiggled and shifted beneath him as he teased you until you had soaked through those lace panties, until your inner thighs were glistening with your arousal and only then—only fucking then—did he hook his finger around the fabric, pushing it to the side before his tongue greedily lapped against your cunt. 

“Fuck!” you cried out, fingers tugging on the locks of his hair as he tightened his arms around you, keeping you locked down on the mattress as he enjoyed his gift. 

He didn’t stop when you cried out his name between breathy, whiny moans. He didn’t stop when you pulled on his hair and bucked your hips against his face. He didn’t stop when you tried to push his head away, the pleasure overwhelming and far too much but even then you found yourself coming all over his face a second time that night. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” you murmured helplessly as he finally lifted his head, his eyes hooded and sleepy but the grin on his face was so fucking smug, you swore the sight could have made you come again. 

“My pretty girl,” JJ cooed softly as he slowly crawled over your body, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal but that just made him look even better, in some weird fucking way. “Did so good f’me.” 

“I wanted to look pretty for you,” you whined softly as his fingers traced along the matching lace bra. 

“You look fucking gorgeous, baby,” he muttered as he leaned down to place a kiss along the hem of the bra, nipping the skin until it was red and pretty. “Can’t wait to fucking wreck this thing when I fuck you in it.” 

You moaned. 

“Yeah?” His grin fucking widened. “My girl want that?” 

“I really fucking do, Jay.” 

“Happy Valentine’s, baby,” he whispered against your lips before he kissed you breathless. “I’m gonna fuck you senseless.”

.

#jj maybank #outer banks #obx #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank fic #jj maybank one shot #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you #outer banks x y/n #outer banks fic #outer banks one shot #obx x reader #obx x you #obx x y/n #obx fic #obx one shot

[berryflyy]

YUMA MUKAMI AESTHETIC IRL

His aesthetic is masculine cottagecore

The colours I'd associate him with are Green, Brown, Black, and Red

Green stands for his love for nature as we all know his hobby includes growing vegetables and fruits

Brown is an earthly tone that matches his vibe when it comes to his masculinity and his overall tall athletic physique

Black stands for his dark past

Red is the colour of apples and has a deep symbolism of his connection with Shuu Sakamaki as a child

Masculine, intimidating, beautiful

Earthly, tall, hot,tempered

Sugar cubes, gardening, rebellious

Yuma Mukami, the third sibling in the Mukami household. Despite being the third sibling, he gave off another aura. He seemed more responsible, mature, and in many ways, manly. It came as a surprise sometimes that he was the younger sibling of the popular idol Kou Mukami because of their contradicting personalities. While Kou, on one hand, was cheerful and bright. Yuma Mukami is seen to be hot blooded and hot-headed. However, his good looks make up for it. Being a third year student, he surely gave off the vibe for being a senior, perhaps because of his strong build, but his mind is always wondering somewhere. He's mysterious, handsome, yet you're drawn into his dark world of mysteries and lies. Makes you wonder what he's been through and what lies behind his tall and strong exterior

Defiant, ponytail, mesmerizing

At a glance, when you see yuma walking around in the hallway, you often can't help but think about how different the brothers are. Yumas' tall build makes him intimidating. His rough look, although scary yet, makes him the most conventional strong male. Everyone is scared to pick a fight with

One of the most surprising things about Yuma is that although he's a third year student at a reputed academy, his accent is very different from that of a typical aristocrat, which is ironic considering the Mukami family is one of the top aristocratic families alongside Tsukinamis and Sakamakis. This shows that he is humble and, to a great extent, independent, which is shown by his ability to grow fruits and vegetables.

Yuma, although it is rebellious and hot-headed by nature, there is a hint of pervertness surrounding him by the way he looks at some girls at his academy. This could be for 2 reasons

A) they've got a nice figure

B) Predator looking for prey

In both cases, because yuma has the conventional good looks and the nice figure like the rest of Mukami siblings, he's popular amongst the females at academy

Yuma is also fair. While the Mukamis are sitting and dining together, we see that yuma takes Azusa's side by making sure Kou doesn't take Azusa's share of food and shows his humbleness. Which makes you wonder that behind the stone-cold facade lies the notion that beneath his fiery temperament, a warm heart may beat.

Yuma Mukami, someone you don't want to annoy. Of course, being in a prestigious academy and being part of the Mukami's naturally made him untouchable. You didn't want to be the cause towards his anger. You didn't want to be just another prey in his hunt. So you kept your distance, but once he saw you in the knee-length socks just gripping tightly against your thighs. Something awakened inside him. He had decided you're his prey, and of course, being his prey meant that he had to hunt you down no matter what the consequences. You tried to ignore him. Every time you crossed paths, you tried to move in the opposite direction, ignore eye contact, but deep down. Part of you wanted him. One night while at the rooftop, you're having your lunch, you encounter him, and you're about to leave. He tosses you an apple and tells you to eat. You know better not to take anything from strangers, especially apples, but you couldn't turn him away. Surprisingly, this apple wasn't poisoned, and the fact he grew it himself made it all the more special for you. At the same time, it was time for class again. You shared quick eye contact before going your own way since then you've seen yuma around you a lot. Sometimes munching on sweet sugar cubes, which you found unusual for someone so hot-headed,sometimes near your classrooms. In some ways, he's always there surrounding you. But, who were you to refuse. After all, the predator is bound to hunt his prey down at all costs

"Using force is useless, you know. You're not a person to take me on."

#yuma mukami #diabolik lovers #love #sakamaki ayato #sakamaki laito #sakamaki reiji #diabolik lovers headcanons #sakamaki shu #sakamaki subaru #kou mukami #sakamaki brothers #ruki mukami #azusa mukami #yui komori #diabolik lovers cordelia #diabolik boys #diabolik brothers #diabolik lovers fandom

[sinsofthefather-kulemi]

MEET: Kenjiro Hara

◈Age: 32

◈Job: Proprietor of Club Reign, more commonly referred to as Reign.

◈Relationship Status: Has been single for nearing two years now. He and his ex didn't even date long, the relationship lasted for about 8 months before they passed. They were friends for longer and absolutely dear to him. One of the greatest friends he's ever had. He hasn't tried again. It hasn't quite felt right. In his mind, it's like he never got to properly end the relationship. So, he feels like he'd be doing something wrong if he moved on.

◈Family: His mother was an abusive drunk who prioritized her even more abusive boyfriend over him and his siblings. He had brothers. But he couldn't say where any of them are now, though. He can barely even recall what they look like considering he left his mother's house when he was 14 and he lived on the streets for quite some time after that. He was not in his right mind the majority of the time. Alot of his youth before Hiroshi is a blur and what he does remember, he wishes he didn't.

◈Friends: He's got a couple of guys that he look to that he may call his friend but he's a little shy about using that word. It makes him feel weak. He hates that feeling. But sure, there's a couple people he could call if he's ever low. They're fellow Itou men--plants. But they're captains where they are, so they get him. He'd like to call Hiroshi his friend but deep down, he knows that he's nothing more than a pawn to him. It's alright though. He'd proudly be his chess piece until the very end. Edna is dear to him too. He adores her. He hopes that Arika can view him as a friend, someone that she can rely on but he fears that since she has a boyfriend now, she may not need him as much. Unfortunately for that guy, he treasures her. So they won't be rid of him so easily.

◈Hobbies: Kenjiro used to enjoy dancing back when he lived with the Namikawas as the girls forced him to quite often. However, he's gained an even deeper appreciation for dancing thanks to his job. Plus, how tacky would it look if the owner of the top disco in the city didn't know how to get his groove on? He likes to check out the local competition anyway. Two birds as they say. He's also really fond of cruising through town in his Skyline with windows down and the radio up as he belts his heart out to his favorite tunes. He could easily lose track of time that way. He's a very impressive bowler. His form is almost sort of elegant and he knows alot about the game on a more technical level than just 'knockin down them pins'. The man even owns his own bowling ball. He likes to invite people out for a round of drinks then end the night at the local bowling alley where another couple of rounds awaits. Get you drunk, then kick your ass. That's the Kenjiro way!

◈Favorite Food: His mouth waters at just the thought of karaage. Fresh, piping hot, crunchy karaage with pickled vegetables on the side and a nice foamy beer to finish it all off.

◈Favorite Item: If you know anything about Kenjiro it's that there's nothing on this Earth that he cares more about after the Namikawa family and Itou than his precious, precious 1989 Nissan Skyline GT-R. Back when he used to drive the girls around, he was given the keys to Hiroshi's white sedan, a 1980 Nissan Skyline 2000GT. He'd only ever driven beater cars before then. It was like a dream every day. At some point, he began to fantasize about having one of his own. But he knew that when the time came, he'd have to get something similar but newer, cooler. Something that suited his style better. When the '89 GT-R sports car came out he could've jizzed in his pants. It was exactly what he was looking for all after these years and he had the money to pay for it- cash.

Want to learn a little more about the others?

→ Goro → Hiroshi → Arika → Edna

#kenjiro hara #sins of the flesh #i could've used the solid cotton shirt for his headshot but i wanted to use this one to show that the silk shirt is still canon #even if it's not on his prof anymore

[recurring-polynya]

Re: Hold On, Hold On outtake. Hrgjgks academy squad depression book club and Momo's Book Opinions. To be fair I too am not immune to battle scenes where insides become outsides, lovingly described. If I can double dip deleted scenes I'm gonna ask about What We Do With Our Hearts.

Thank you!! My husband read a lot of David Eddings in his teen years, and I was a Mercedes Lackey girl, and the Kira-Hinamori literary feud is based very specifically on the way we lovingly rip each other for our respective tastes in trashy late 80s/early 90s fantasy.

Haven't had any Hearts requests yet, so here's a proto-version of Byakuya's childhood memory of his Memorable Outing with Grandfather.

🍃 🍂 ❄️

Grandfather smiled back, his mustache curving upward. “Alright, we’re here! Are you ready to answer some questions and show me how hard you have been studying?”

“Yes!” Byakuya grinned. 

“Down at the bottom of the hill we just climbed, did you see the tunnel? Big enough for two carts to go through side-by-side?”

“Yes! There was a cart with vegetables coming through it!”

“Do you know where that tunnel leads?”

“Red Hollow Gate!”

“Exactly right! Now, look out that way, my boy!” Grandfather frowned. “Can you see past the wall?”

The big embankment they were standing on abutted the outer wall of the Seireitei, which protruded about a meter above the earth, presumably to keep people from toppling over the edge. 

“Yes, of course,” Byakuya replied, going up on his tippy toes.

Grandfather raised an eyebrow at his efforts for a moment, before scooping Byakuya up and settling him on his shoulders. “There we go, is that a little better?”

“Yes! Thank you, Grandfather!” 

“Look out. What do you see?”

“South Rukongai!” Byakuya declared, gently holding Grandfather’s soft, beautiful hair. He was extra careful not to pull. 

“How did you know?” Grandfather asked, sounding skeptical, as though Byakuya must have cheated somehow.

“Because it’s the closest gate to our house! We walked away from Soukyoku Hill to get here, and if this were one of the other gates, we would have had to walk around it!”

“Very good,” Grandfather replied softly. “Now here is a hard one. What is that, out at the edges?”

From his lofty vantage point, Soul Society stretched out before Byakuya, painted in brilliant reds and golds, even though the leaves were only beginning to turn inside the city. The further districts dulled into brown, and at the edges of what he could see, a soft, white fog hung in the air, obscuring what lay beyond. Byakuya squinted at the mist, trying to figure out what it might be. “It’s clouds, Grandfather!” he realized. “It’s snowing!”

“That’s right!” Grandfather agreed.

“But it’s not even November!” Byakuya gasped. He couldn’t imagine it snowing so early. 

“Winter starts early in the outer Rukon and moves inward,” Grandfather explained. “It’s very easy to see on a day like today, eh?”

“Will it be over earlier, too?”

“Later, actually. Winter is just longer on the periphery, and summer is as well. Here in the Seireitei, we get a long spring and autumn instead.”

“When will the snow get here?” Byakuya asked. “Tomorrow?” Already, grand visions of sledding and snowmen were filling his mind.

“It will be a few weeks yet,” Grandfather chuckled. 

“They’re lucky,” Byakuya pouted.

Grandfather’s hands patted against his knees. “Rukon winters are long and harsh. They probably think you are very lucky to live here in the city, where the persimmons are still ripening.”

“I don’t like persimmons. They’re too sweet and they feel squishy in my mouth.”

“Ah, that’s right! Well, we have other nice things here. Chestnuts?"

Byakuya continued to gaze outward, imagining what other strange wonders Rukongai might contain. Byakuya himself had never left the protective ring of the city walls. He was still at an age where he occasionally conflated his geography lessons with his storybooks, and to him, the Rukon was the place where samurai traveled out to fight demons and rescue kidnapped princesses. “It’s so big,” he gasped. 

“It is. It is vast,” Grandfather agreed. “It is impossible to protect, Byakuya, but it is our duty to try. It is easy to forget that.”

“Why can’t all the people there just move to the city?” Byakuya asked, wrinkling his nose.

“There are many reasons. The city is not big enough. The journey is dangerous. Most importantly, it is not proper for weak souls to linger in Soul Society. They have new lives awaiting them in the World of the Living. For them, Soul Society is like a road. A place to pass through. In fact, that is the entire purpose of Soul Society. We, those born of this place, are given power so that we can defend and preserve it.”

“Then why don’t we live out there, with them, then?” Byakuya suggested.

“Because there aren’t enough of us. In the city, we learn and train and grow strong, and teach our children how to carry on in our work. We also have many precious things that are kept in the city-- portals to the Living World, and all our knowledge in books and archives, and of course, our friends and families.”

“The people out there don’t have families?”

“They make little temporary families, but remember, they aren’t supposed to stay for long."

#1500 follower deleted scenes fest #sorry it just sort of peters out a bit at the end #but sometimes 'inability to finish' is why something ends up in the cut pile to begin with

[cece-ta]

a way to make her stay

G | BNHA | 4.2K words | Kamijirou Mini Bang, in collaboration with @ktyillustrationandart

AO3

Summary: Upon arrival in the Kaminari Kingdom, travelling bard Kyouka meets a mysterious yet flirty stranger named Denki. For some reason, she can’t help but feel like she’s heard that name before…

Jirou glanced around in awe as she walked through the front gates of the royal city of the Kaminari Kingdom.

Gears whirred around her, moving both lifts and sliding platforms. Steam puffed into the air to power the mechanical contraptions littered throughout the city. Methodically placed metal pipes whistled as the wind blew through them, creating a gentle melody that made Jirou’s music-loving heart sing with joy.

The royal city was mostly built upon a steep hill, with many layers connected by both the platforms and steps. At the very top, a grand, stone castle loomed over the city with a flag displaying the kingdom's insignia proudly waving high in the sky.

Jirou had heard about the mechanical city from people she’d met on her travels across the lands, but none of what they said compared to seeing the real thing.

Smiling to herself, Jirou stepped onto a separate section of the pathway at the side of the road that moved on its own. She stumbled a little as it carried her. Having never experienced anything quite like it, it brought her a sense of childlike wonder.

A little further down the road, Jirou hopped off the ground… slide… thing (she didn’t know its name and couldn’t even begin to guess) as soon as she spotted a clothing store. Stumbling a little, she almost collided with a middle-aged woman carrying a basket full of fresh fruits and vegetables.

“Sorry,” Jirou curtly apologised.

“Don’t worry about it,” the lady responded with a warm smile, “the escalators take a bit of getting used to.”

Escalators. Yeah, Jirou never would have guessed that correctly.

She clipped open one of the pockets on the bag resting on her hip, and pulled out a small coin pouch. After her long journey, she was running out of money. However, her current outfit was looking a little worse for wear. On top of the various mud stains, there was a rather obvious tear at the waist of her blouse. She’d already seen someone cast a judgemental look her way.

As she walked up to the shop, eying a gorgeous pair of black and purple gloves displayed in the window, Jirou’s eyes caught sight of a beautiful mural painted on the wall of the building next door.

She marvelled at the pure artistry of the piece which depicted what looked to be the royal family if the golden, jewel-encrusted crowns adorning their heads were anything to go by.

The beaming young boy (Prince Denki, according to the lettering beside him) looked to be a few years younger than her, Jirou mused. He had dazzling blond hair with a black streak that looked oddly like a bolt of lightning. Jirou had thought people were joking when they mentioned the peculiar colouration of the prince’s hair, but after seeing Prince Shouto of the Todoroki Kingdom she supposed nothing was too far fetched.

“Hello, there! Are you interested in buying any of our garments? They’re all sewn in-house!” a bubbly voice called out. It pulled Jirou out of her thoughts as she looked back at the clothing store to see a young girl with bright, curly hair and an even brighter grin to match.

A short while later, after changing into an outfit put together with the help of a kind seamstress named Mina, Jirou stepped back into the street. Adjusting the shoulder strap of her dress, she made sure it lay comfortably underneath the outer layer on top.

Jirou wasn’t usually one to wear such a garment, but she found the leather corset making up the top half mixed with the burlesque skirt to be a flattering look on her. It also paired nicely with the gloves she’d spotted earlier.

(That and it was purple, which Jirou had claimed as her signature colour long ago.)

During Jirou’s time spent in the shop, the sunny sky had darkened to a deep orange and purple hue.

She cursed inwardly and bit her lip. So distracted by the architecture, she had forgotten to find a place to rest!

Much to Jirou's imminent relief, a bustling tavern a little further down the road had a sign out front stating it doubled as an inn for short stays.

‘Perfect,’ she thought.

–––––

After sorting out her accommodation for the night, Jirou slumped down with a heavy sigh into a seat at the only empty table in the room. She placed her pint of beer down and unstrapped the lute slung over her back, nestling it between her aching feet.

She had been without rest all day, what with finishing her travel into the city via foot in order to ensure she had some money left over, and then walking around the city.

Stretching out her legs and arms, Jirou took a moment to relax and leant back against the cold wall behind her. Her eyes fluttered shut.

If it weren’t for the noisiness of the tavern's guests, she might possibly have fallen into a deep slumber. But she’d never slept well with high levels of noise.

(That, and Jirou felt she deserved a nice drink. As a treat.)

“Hey, there! It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? About two years, right? How’ve you been?”

Her eyes snapped open. A young man shrouded by a large cloak sat in the seat beside her, his face scarcely visible due to the hood obscuring his head.

Jirou’s palms clammed up as she tried to recall meeting him, but her mind only came up blank.

The stranger nodded his head to the left.

Jirou’s eyes followed the movement, spotting a group of men whose smiles turned to snarls.

“They were talking about you in ways I’d rather not repeat,” the mysterious stranger explained with a wince and a shake of his head. “Women are a rare sight in this place, but unfortunately creeps like them are not. And the only way to get them to back off is to make them think you’re ‘claimed’ by someone else”

Jirou’s nose crinkled as she drank a large gulp of her beer. “Disgusting,” she spat.

“Disgusting, indeed,” he agreed. “They should hopefully stop now, though.”

“Thank you.”

The stranger blanched, his expression morphing to one of amusement.

“Hey, no need to thank me. Any decent guy would have done it. I’m Denki, by the way,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand.

The name felt familiar somehow, but she brushed it off. Jirou met so many people throughout her travels it wasn’t odd to think some of them might have the same name.

As her hand clasped his, Jirou felt a jolt of electricity flow through her body. She flinched at the contact, not noticing Denki do the same. “I’m Kyouka Jirou.”

“A pretty name for a pretty face,” he said with an exaggerated wink.

Jirou barked out a laugh and rolled her eyes. “What, are you gonna press a kiss to my hand next? Drop a pick-up line that’ll sweep me off my feet?”

“Ah, well, I can’t deny how tempting that sounds,” he flirted, leaning closer to her. From this distance, Jirou could make out flecks of gold in his eyes that matched the strands of hair visible from underneath the hood of his cloak. “After all, you are the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”

A blush rose to Jirou’s cheeks as she quickly snatched her hand back. Her mouth opened to say a quick retort but Jirou found herself rendered speechless.

Seeing her state of fluster, Denki laughed. “Maybe I ought to hold back on that. I think you’re about to pass out.”

“I am not!” She denied.

With all her travels, she’d never had time to think of relationships. Honestly, Jirou couldn’t even recall a time when a man had flirted with her so casually, so forgive her brain for shutting down!

“Okay, okay,” he raised his arms in mock surrender, laughter trailing out. “But seriously, are you not from these parts? I’m pretty sure I’d remember a face like yours.”

She raised a brow. “In all seriousness, you say, and then proceed to flirt with me again,” Jirou smiled despite it and took another sip of her drink. “I’m from the Yaoyorozu Kingdom to the east.”

“Oh, wow,” he said, eyebrows raising. “That’s really far from here. Why come all this way?”

Jirou inhaled a deep breath and bit her lip. She’d always found it nerve-wracking to talk about her music with others despite it being her life’s greatest passion—not to mention her usual way of making a living. Reaching down, she picked up her lute and placed it on the wooden table.

“I wanted to play music and I wanted to travel the world, so I figured why not kill two birds with one stone? This kingdom is my last stop on the way home. It’s taken me a few years, but I’m proud to say that I have travelled all over the known world.”

Denki stared at her, smitten with amazement. His eyes lit up with wonder as he buzzed with so much energy he was practically vibrating in his seat.

“You good?” She questioned amusedly.

“Sorry, I just… that’s so cool! I wish I could travel to other kingdoms,” he explained, staring up at the ceiling as he looked as if he’d gotten lost in his own little fantasy. “There’s so many places I want to see, and you’ve probably visited all of them! I’m kinda jealous, honestly.”

“Then just do it,” Jirou said, trying to keep a straight face but ultimately failing. “If it's the money you’re worried about, don’t think about it too much. I’m not exactly well-off myself but I managed to find work everywhere I went.”

“Oh, no, you’ve got it all wrong! The money isn’t an issue for me,” he paused, wincing. He frantically shook his head and waved his hands. “That came out wrong, but basically you could say my parents are a bit… strict. Same reason I’m wearing this stupid cloak right now.”

“Hey, it’s a cool getup.”

“And I trust your judgement wholeheartedly,” Denki said, making Jirou’s heart flutter once more. He flopped forward, head meeting the table as he stared up at her and whined, “but I hate having to wear it just to get a drink.”

“Then don’t?” Jirou said with a short laugh. “A little rebellion never hurt anyone. Your parents are just uptight. It’s not like you’re a prince or something.”

Denki sputtered out a laugh, banging a fist on the table as he covered his mouth with his hand. He inhaled a shaky breath and held up a single finger in the air to signal he needed a moment to calm down. Just as he was about to compose himself, Denki broke out into another fit of giggles.

It was almost infectious, and Jirou found herself beginning to laugh too despite not understanding what was so funny. He was so loud, people were beginning to stare at them.

“What?” She asked.

As Kaminari let out one final wheeze, he wiped a tear from his eye. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Nothing,” she repeated. Jirou looked at him in disbelief. “You were laughing that hard over ‘nothing’.”

“What, am I not allowed to laugh?” Denki asked, pressing a hand over his heart. He huffed dramatically, tilting his head up at the ceiling. “I’m hurt by your words, Kyouka.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Thank you!”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

The conversation continued on, with more flirting on his end and more teasing jabs from Jirou. All the aches and pains in her body were pushed to the back of her mind as Denki spoke, his mere presence soothing.

Jirou had never connected with anyone so fast, not even as a child. They clicked together perfectly, and Jirou found herself crossing her fingers and praying for the conversation to never end.

But unfortunately, midnight crept up on them. People had already started to trail out, the noisy atmosphere traded for a more intimate one of seclusion.

“How long are you thinking of staying here?”

“I’m not sure,” she hummed. “It depends on what kind of work I can get. There’s usually someone in need of entertainment, so I’m never truly out of options. I need to save enough to make the journey home, though, and it’s quite a long one this time.”

If her estimations were correct, it would take Jirou roughly two months for the journey itself. Some of it would be by train or carriage, but those options were becoming increasingly expensive these days, so a lot of Jirou’s travelling was now on foot if possible. Hence all the aches and pains.

Denki tapped his chin repeatedly, his nose scrunching up.

“Is that you trying to think?”

He shot her an unamused look and then smirked. “And here I was about to help you.”

Jirou leant her elbows on the table and propped her head on her hands. She put on her best look of innocence. “I take back what I said. You’re the most intelligent person I’ve ever met.”

“Okay, now you’re pushing it,” he said, smiling anyway. “Your arrival is in perfect time! I know of a little something you might be interested in. It comes with the perk of provided accommodation, too”

“Go on,” she said, intrigued.

Denki waved over the barkeep and asked the man for paper and some ink which he happily obliged.

Turning so his shoulder blocked Jirou’s view, Denki quickly scribbled something down. Jirou tried to take a peek but he only shifted to block her view even further. Once finished, he rolled it up and placed it in her hand.

“Go to the place written on here at this time. I’ll make sure someone is waiting there for you,” he took a step away before stopping, “Oh, and don’t forget the lute.”

Jirou blinked at the piece of paper, staring at it for a few seconds before looking up to see Denki almost out the door. She sputtered out a garbled, “what?”

As he reached the doorway, Denki looked back her way. “You said you were looking for work, didn’t you?”

His response only left Jirou more perplexed. She shrugged it off and unrolled the paper, eyes scanning through Denki’s surprisingly neat and fancy handwriting—not at all what she’d expect from someone that goofy.

The castle? How would some random guy be able to get her a job there of all places?

Jirou’s eyes narrowed. He had been wearing that cloak all night. His explanation was that his parents were strict, but she got the feeling there was a little more to it than that. His name was Denki.

Jirou knew it was familiar, but why? Where had she heard it before?

Her breath caught in her throat.

The mural! Prince Denki.

There was no way she’d just spoken to a prince! Jirou had insulted him! Multiple times!

Besides, the boy in the mural looked to be about fifteen years of age and the Denki she had just met was at least twenty, just as she was. Though there was the possibility that the mural was outdated. Jirou bit her lip, foot tapping against the floor as she internally deliberated it. Maybe it was the prince, or maybe it was merely a coincidence.

Either way, she would get a concrete answer tomorrow. For now, what Jirou really needed was to sleep.

–––––

Jirou glanced down at the piece of paper in her hand before assessing her surroundings. She was close enough to the castle by now that it should be the right place, but she found it hard to keep track when climbing up the hill via the lifts. There were many of them spread across the land and Jirou wouldn’t be surprised if she had stepped on the wrong one at some point.

Her worry was for nought, though, as a man with black hair wearing garments with the kingdom’s insignia embroidered on them approached.

“Are you Kyouka Jirou?”

Jirou nodded slowly and tightly clutched her bag strap. “Uh, yeah. I was told to come here. Something about a job?”

“Yes, that’s right. I’ve been waiting for your arrival,” he replied with a toothy grin. At Jirou’s panicked look he raised his arms and said, “Don’t worry. You’re not late. My name is Sero, and I’m an aide to the royal family. I’ve been sent to escort you inside. Follow me.”

He led her further up the path to another platform, though this one had royal guards stationed by it. They moved aside as Sero waved at them, exchanging a quick hello. Jirou raised a brow. These guards were certainly much friendlier than some that she’d seen during her travels to the other kingdoms.

As soon as he and Jirou were standing in the middle of the platform and the gate was shut behind them, Sero whistled a short tune. And then, they were moving.

“The tune changes every day,” Sero informed her as the platform stopped on top of the castle wall. He held the small gate at the front open and stepped aside to let her through. “It’s a safety thing.”

Jirou simply nodded and followed along as Sero led her inside. They walked down a flight of twisting stairs before reaching a long corridor. Many gorgeous paintings covered the walls, most depicting different locations within the Kaminari Kingdom.

Glancing to her left, Jirou was met with the view of the city. She could vaguely make out the forms of people on the streets below.

“We have arrived! Just step through here and give them your best performance.” Sero said with a flourish. He gestured to the doors in front.

Her best performance?

Taking in a deep breath, Jirou pushed the doors open. Her heart pounded in her chest as she was met with the sight of the royal family sitting on their thrones, including a person who was undoubtedly the Denki she had met the previous evening.

Unlike the dark cloak from before, he wore a long white overcoat embellished with gold. A glistening crown adorned his head, the same gold tone as his eyes.

Jirou found herself smiling dumbfoundedly as Denki—or would it be more respectful to call him Kaminari?—waved as discreetly as possible.

She may have figured out his identity the night before, but it was another thing to have it confirmed. It was almost surreal to think Jirou had called a crown prince insufferable to his face.

“Welcome. You are Kyouka Jirou, I presume,” Jirou briskly nodded at the Queen’s words. She gulped, sweat pooling in her palms.

In all her travels, Jirou had never actually met royalty face-to-face, not counting last night’s encounter.

“You see, our composer recently fell ill and has unfortunately had to take an early retirement. Music is very important to our kingdom, for it is the heart of our festivities,” she explained. “The palace staff were going to start their search for someone new but my darling son here recommended you. He says he heard of you from one of the palace staff, but I’m not sure that’s entirely true.”

The Queen let out a small bout of laughter as Denki glanced out of the window, guilt written in his expression. It seemed he wasn’t as sneaky as he thought.

“Anyhow, anyone who receives such a glowing recommendation from my Denki deserves to have their talent heard. This isn’t how we would usually go about this, but are you willing to perform for us?”

“Of course, your majesty!” Jirou said, eyes widening as giddiness struck her heart.

Her gaze met Denki’s as she held her lute and took in a deep breath. He nodded at her, a determined fire in his eyes. It was a small show of faith—one that instantly calmed Jirou’s nerves.

And in all the excitement, she forgot that Denki had never actually heard her play.

—————

Gnawing on her lip, Jirou paced up and down by the doors to the throne room. After watching her perform and asking a few questions, she had been sent to wait outside as the royal family deliberated.

Normally, Jirou would be able to keep her composure when it came to waiting to see if she’d been hired. But these were unusual circumstances.

She froze as the door cracked open slightly. Denki slipped through the gap, beaming as their eyes met. He gave her a little wave as he had done earlier.

“So,” he said, drawing out the ‘o’ sound.

“So you really are the prince,” she responded.

Jirou stopped fiddling with the strap of her bag and took a step forward. From the closer proximity, she could see the black bolt of lighting in his hair—exactly the same as it was drawn in the mural. Fascinating.

“Cutting straight to the point, huh, Jirou?” He said, adjusting the crown on his head. “Sorry I hid it from you. It was for my own safety,” Denki’s eyes widened as he quickly started waving his hands about. “Not that I thought you were dangerous or anything! It’s just… y’know?”

“Yeah, I get it. I gotta say, everything you said last night makes so much more sense now.”

Denki snorted as a laugh bubbled from his throat.

Jirou’s heart fluttered at the sound, and she found herself wanting to hear his laugh over and over again.

Woah, woah, woah. Hold on a second there, brain. Where the hell did that thought come from?

“You play beautifully,” he complimented, eyes softening. He reached forward, tucking a stray bit of hair behind Jirou’s ear. “As I knew you would.”

Heat rose to her cheeks, and there was undoubtedly a blush dusting her face.

Regaining composure with a quick cough into her fist, Jirou leaned back. “Flirt.”

“Charming, aren’t I?”

Jirou rolled her eyes endearingly. There was absolutely no doubt this was the same guy from the tavern. He was such an incorrigible flirt, though deep down Jirou truly didn’t mind it.

“Will this make you stay here longer?” Denki asked, his expression hopeful.

Jirou raised a brow. She crossed her arms and leant into his space until their faces were mere centimetres apart. She smiled as his cheeks tinted to a shade that likely matched her own.

Giving in to the temptation to tease Denki as retaliation for last night’s comment about her being likely to pass out from his flirting, Jirou questioned, “Why are you so desperate to make me stay?”

He audibly gulped and then shrugged. “When we spoke last night, I felt like there was some sort of… connection between us. It was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I really want to know you better, Jirou, so when you mentioned work and music, it felt like fate.”

Denki took her hands in his own, his passionate gaze piercing her soul. Slowly, she intertwined their fingers and smiled.

“I think I felt that connection, too.”

“Yeah?” He asked, eyes glowing with happiness.

“Yeah,” she breathed.

Just as Kaminari opened his mouth to say something more, the doors to the throne room burst open once more. Sero walked through, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he realised he’d interrupted their moment.

They jumped apart which only made the royal aide chuckle, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looked directly at the prince.

“Sero, don’t you dare.” Kaminari warned, pointing a finger. Jirou could tell by the smile Kaminari could hardly hold back that his words weren't truly meant as a threat.

Sero raised his arms and tilted his head. “Don’t jump to conclusions, your highness. I was just going to say that I see you’re already acquainted.”

Jirou’s eyes narrowed at his wording, a sudden lightness in her chest. From Sero’s phrasing, it sounded like her audition had been well received. Could that mean…?

“Congratulations, Jirou,” Sero said, winking as he pulled out a scroll which was definitely not in his hand a second ago along with a round piece of metal branded with the kingdom’s insignia identical to the one pinned to his shirt. “Welcome to the palace staff. We’ll be providing accommodation for you in the west wing, so please inform me as to when you’d like me to escort you to collect your belongings.”

Inhaling a shaky breath, she took the offered items and clutched them to her chest. It seemed she would be staying far longer than anticipated.

Her parents would likely miss her, but they had always expressed that they only wanted the best for their daughter. When she next wrote to them, Jirou knew they would understand.

Grinning, she looked over at Denki. “How about you give me a tour first? It seems like we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other, just as you wanted.”

Denki wordlessly offered his arm which Jirou looped her own through.

“Have fun, lovebirds! Don’t get too cosy, though. Royal marriage requires courtship first!”

Jirou laughed as Denki stuck his tongue out at Sero, the aide returning the childish gesture.

There was no denying the air of budding romance around them, but marriage was way off. Settling down wasn’t something she’d envisioned for her near future, but Jirou wouldn’t be surprised if she found herself wanting it soon.

#bnha #fanfiction #kamijirou #kamijiro #denki kaminari #kyouka jirou #jirou kyouka #kaminari denki #hanta sero #ignore my terrible graphic skills lol

[mejomonster]

Never Let Me Go ep 7:

I'm so mushy. Look, this isn't ur show if you're looking for the romcom type where people say the cheesiest mushy stuff quickly and are "in love" immediately etc. (Although I'll say Bad Buddy had best of both worlds since they knew each other their whole lives technically pre show so the mushy stuff is less from nothing and more from a foundation almost 2 decades long).

I'm mushy BECAUSE this show feels so damn realistic! In a good way. Neung asks Palm if he's ever loved someone so much he'd consider marrying them. If this were mushy romcom Palm would say yes and cue romantic music. Instead, Palm says no. Realistic answer for a guy who's only 18 - even if he did love someone, loving them enough to marry them forever? It might be happening rn as he's falling for Neungdiao but it's probably not something he went through before at like age 15. Despite saying no (the only realistic answer for Palm), he says he DOES think Neung will meet someone he'll love that much, who will love him that much. And my heart swoons. I'm sinking. I'm emotional. Awwwwwww. That genuine heartfelt hope Neung has happiness, that underlying current Palm thinks he can be that person for Neung when it's time for Neung to contemplate marriage. Is so soft. So sweet. It's worth buckets of a cheesy one liner to me. This scene is so much more my romance story preference ToT

Their scene on the beach, where Palm shows him the secret beach qnd they swim. It's just playful, it's them looking at each other having fun, and looking away at the world in contemplation. And man, have I also been there. On a special beach, in the sunset, having fun with my crush. Hoping we are like this year's later, hoping I'll still be with them, hoping they'll be with me. Trying to remember the moment forever in my heart. I loved that scene so much. It feels like idk. A real kind of moment. A moment you really might have had with a crush. I know it's me personally relating lol. But it's also like? I've never accidentally kissed a person by falling lol, or gotten pinned after we ran away from being chased ToT (though I find the trope fun). So like. The decision to do this as the big romantic scene was really nice to me, that they picked a moment many people who've gone on a trip in nature with a crush or lover can relate to. It's touchable, within reach, an ordinary moment (made extraordinary cayse its a super pretty Thailand beach but you get the idea). It makes the romance feel closer to our own lives, versus us trying to feel closer to a more romantic fantastical life.

The scenes with Ben and Chopper all absolutely wreck my heart. Rip it right to pieces. Choppers actor is SO GOOD you can feel a decade of history between him and Ben that's not in dialogue but PRESENT. You can feel he cares about Ben so much he tries not to grab on and never let go, that he'd give anything to have Ben in his life daily again BUT even more than that he wants to see Ben smiling and happy and free and safe. He loves Ben so fucking much it hurts me. Choppers a lot like me as a teen in that regard lol. And Ben? Ohhhh boy. Well they went the Very Realistic view of gay people in society in this show. So his military dad views gay actions as looking bad on Ben's image. The adults view a gay rumor as a Bad Thing in a way Ben caught kissing a girl would not have been. Neung being just gay and perfectly fine about it, still gets him ostracized compared to people who Don't think it's fine to be viewed that way. Neungs mom is as expected a loving mom who's just disappointed in herself that her son didn't feel safe to be open to her (and interesting this actually serves a character development function Totally unrelated to neung liking men - he acts very loving to his mom, but feels she can't "handle" certain things. She can't "handle" him not eating vegetables so he pretends to like them and eats tjem for her. How naive does he act FOR her, because he's trying to protect her from other parts of his personality. Neung has shown to be very intelligent and cunning sometimes when doing his own things alone. I imagine he hides all that from his mom. This whole arc further shows he's got parts of himself other people are not all aware of).

Back to Ben. They picked a realistic route. Further solidifying this show feels like My Dear Loser, 3 Will Be Free, and The Eclipse in how it handles queer people. This is not romcom world where our annoying problems in society don't exist. Figures. In a story where the class differences and inequality of it and how unfair it fucking is are HAMMERED nonstop, of course queerness and how it affects how society privileges or harms people is going to be included. I again LOVE how this show is written so far. Anyway Ben... Chimon always gives a stellar performance in my opinion, particularly in that he plays people who feel like real people. Ben feels as real as Wave in The Gifted, as his typical realistic teen character in My Dear Loser. It doesn't feel like a bl romance genre show. It feels like I'm watching a GENERAL thriller on gmmtv (a la The Player, The Gifted) and they just decided the majority of the main leads will be queer. (Actually Not Me and 3 Will Be Free may also feel like this). I personally love this approach as main-genre romance isn't actually my preference, and this feel really works for this story. Chimon does such an amazing job, I keep feeling like I'm seeing this slice of a person's life and vulnerability in privacy with Chopper admiting his heart out. As Chopper feels painfully unconditionally loving and trying to prioritize Ben's feelings over any pain of his own, Ben just feels brutally real. The actual class president you met in school if he sat with you some day off to the side during lunch and admitted all the shit he was actually going through. Anyway I am literally folded in half emotionally whenever Ben and Chopper get scenes together to combine this effect.

I love Ben. Thats all.

Suddenly thinking if Heartstopper fans also happen to like action thrillers, they might like this show? I mean they probably want something fluffier. But I liked Heartstoppers realism with anxiety and personal doubts and queerness. And those particular elements are also present here with the 4 leads.

Palm. Oh palm. I have a feeling about palm. That feeling is: I feel at some point when he fully reveals his own pov more, a TON OF SCENES IN RETROSPECT are going to click into place as way more emotional to watch than they were before. Sort of like when I watched The Untamed - first time around I thought Lan Wangji was boring expressionless until the teen arc was over. Because I saw him like Wei Wuxian did. The second watch, knowing how deeply Lan Wangji was effected from day 1? I realized the actor was actually putting a LOT of nuance in I was just tuning out on first watch. I suspect once palm shows his pov in a scene more overtly, his visual acting tells will become more obvious, and in retrospect I'll be emotionally overwhelmed on a rewatxh.

I suspect we see him like Neungdiao right now. And that is: Palm trying so hard to frame himself as servant, frame his own pov as unknown and unimportant, put his wants below the specific necessity that he serve Neung and make Neung feel safe AND make sure there's a clear boundary of "I'm a servant not equal" since his dad keeps hammering it. I think at first he might even have had some hostility wanting to be a servant instead of quiting, some feelings he doesn't need to do what his dad demands of him just cause dad feels that way. But he DOES care about Neung. And he'd be friends in a heartbeat - IF he could. If he could? He'd open up emotionally and let Neung treat him equal like Neung desperately wants. But Palm knows the societal punishment for them breaking their roles to act like that is going to be hard on Neung, and he 1 doesn't want Neung to deal with more because of Palm and 2 Palm doesn't want to attract anger from others and disappointment (or worse being full on removed from Neungs life by his dad and neungs mom) just because he violated the boundaries of his status. He knows Neung can choose to change how he treats Palm, but if Palm changes how he acts then they both get screwed by the world. Palm can't afford to reveal an inch, cant afford for Stubborn Nueng to notice what Palm wants. And Palms stubborn too so he keeps intensely reinforcing their boundary and keeping his feelings secret.

Cue Palm smiling, making stubborn jokes in private with Neung. Saying he's waiting for his moment on the beach (to make a romantic move). Palm knows once he kissed Neung that the cat is out of the bag. No matter how servant Not Friend, separate and not together, employee instead of equal that Palm is Supposed to be? He kissed Neung. He knows he did it cause he likes Neung, and was jealous of Ben, and in his heart wants to treat Neung with love and reciprocation. And he knows Neung sure wanted that reciprocation - so he kisses Neung. And now Neung knows for all the holding back, Palm feels some amount. And so Palms letting himself smile, when he thinks Neung won't push him, when he thinks they're alone enough he can tease and talk back and Be closer to equal socially without any outsiders punishing them for it. That's Palms resolve to be a silent separate protector deteriorating. I'm excited to see as it crumbles more.

#lb #never let me go #rant #basically this show is GOOD

[maryaustria]

Share ten different favourite characters from ten different pieces of media in no particular order, then send this to 10 people (anon or not, your choice) 🎥🎬📺 

got tagged by @sometimes-i-talk-a-lot !!!

no idea who to tag so feel free to do it

im not sure youre axtually supposed to talk about them a lot but i did start rambling on with most of them so its going under the read more

kakyoin from jojo's bizarre adventure - the funny gamer man :). i like how i managed to read/watch all of jojo but he still managed to be my favorite through it all. his backstory was just really relatable to me i guess.

Patches from the soulsborne games - hes just kind of a huge asshole everytime you meet but something about hearing his voice after he kicks you down a pit for the 10th time. A lot of it probably comes from his voice actor. he really sounds like hes enjoying himself every time he gets to voice him.

ichiban kasuga from yakuza like a dragon - hes just a very loveable guy. everything from the way he talks with his friends to the way he talks with everyday people makes him just easy to fall in love with. Its also nice seeing how despite what he goes through he still keeps his friendly personality

lady from devil may cry - shes really cool and i like her character a lot. her arc in the 3rd game is just really satisfying to follow from beginning to end. she doesnt get much in terms of story in 4 or 5 but i feel like her character is fine how she is and adding more would kinda take away from it. she did get a nice little moment in 5 though which i liked. Also its nice to know that in a series where all the other fighters have some form of demonic powers she is 100% human. And please capcom make her playable in 5!!!!!

Raiden from metal gear - My favorite boy whos been through so so much. I cant really talk about how i like him since that would mostly involve spoilers and would also make up multiple pages. In 2 i just like the way he develops throughout the story and how he finds meaning by the end. Hes also the protag of one of my favorite games metal gear rising revengance. Despite the over the top nature of the game i still think they did his character justice and its a nice extension of the story of 2 (though nothing compares to that imo)

Sans from undertale - Despite everything i still really like undertale, its world and its characters. And the funny bone man managed to still be my fav. His jokes and his mysterious nature all makes him really likable to me. His fight is pretty enjoyable too. also hes a skeleton so theres that.

Samus from Metroid - Basically everything i wish i was. Shes cool, strong and she still manages all of this without saying a whole lot. I especially like her body language in dread. pls just ignore how she is in other m....

Tienshinhan from dragon ball - this ones mostly an old favorite. he was my favorite charcater when i watched it as a kid and he still is. He just seemed really cool everytime he appeared. Still think its bullshit how he isnt considered the strongest human -3-

Bridget from guilty gear - this ones a very recent fav. i never really knew anything about her before she appeared in strive but she definitely made an impact on me. Something about seeing a trans girl accepting herself in a mainstream videogame just makes me really happy. Also her theme song is soooo good and is soooo relatable to me. Like yeah i also hate the alarm clock i chose and i also taste like vegetables i dont like. 😭

Aqua from kingdom hearts - Shes one of the more competend characters in the series. She isnt without flaws or anything but she definitely gets shit done when she wants to. Her fighting style is also really nice. And of course she has blue hair and pronouns 🙄

#mary me #text dot text #also i got sad thinking about some of them....

[deviribz]

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[stephensonibsen6]

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[takeeachdayonebookatatime]

Castle fanfiction

Staring the cast of Castle

Why did you elbow me? 35

Monday 57

part 12

Kate: pov my lunch date with Liv was at 11:40 her schedule as a Captain was busy but since I'm still kind of on mostly desk duty. I have more free time than her. Castle dropped me off since I have not been cleared to drive. And it was on the way to his meeting at 12am.

Olivia: pov I was already at the restaurant it was closer to my work. Kate caught me up on her health and told me what happened to her squad yesterday. I asked her how she liked, swim and she said it was amazing. Kate said she could ask her instructors for a number to a good swim instructor and give me the number for Noah. I said thanks. I talked about my recent case and Noah. I asked her if she ever thought of or wanted to have kids one day. She said she had thought about it. I told her I know with your health that might not be an option getting pregnant and all but adoption is always available. That is how I got Noah and he is an amazing little boy. We made plans for another time.

Kate: pov we talked some more and ate our yummy food. Liv had ordered the cheese burger with fries and I ordered the grilled chicken with vegetables. Liv was nice and dropped me off at the 12th. I asked her if she wanted to come and meet My team for a second and she said sure.

Ryan: pov Kate came back from her lunch date and I was about to ask her If Castle dropped her off here. That is when I noticed Captain Olivia Benson from Manhattan SVU 16th precinct. Kate says thanks Liv, for dropping me off. This is Ryan and that is Esposito. And Lanie is in the morgue if you want to pop in. I gave her a quick 10 minutes tour. That way she could get back to her work.

Esposito: pov Kate had asked to go on our next case Lanie said it was fine. we got the call about a dead body. Turns out it was in a cemetery. Not sure if Kate should come with us. She said she could handle it. At the scene Lanie says the Lady was shot in the chest/heart and she died instantly. Time of death was about 30 minutes ago, so very recent. Ryan told me the family who is over there was burying her husband who died due to gang violence. Ugh this case is going to be tough on Kate. Lanie pulls me aside and says keep an eye on her

Kate: pov it turns out the Lady who died was shot in the chest/heart at a funeral in the cemetery. I went to talk to the girl's parents while Ryan questioned some of the other family members on what they saw. I told the lady's parents I know what you are going through grief wise my mother was murdered and I personally know what your daughter went through only difference is she died instantly. At least she did not suffer. I was shot on the left side of my chest during a funeral in a cemetery Causing me to flat line in the ambulance. The bullet nicked my left inferior pulmonary vein causing Tension pneumothorax on my left side requiring a chest tube. Causing my pericardium to distend compressing my heart. The Bullet also grazed my ventricle causing me to bleed into my heart causing it to not work right resulting in me going into vfib/flat lining again causing me to go into cardiac arrest during my emergency open thoracotomy heart surgery. I survived but. Take medicine for arrhythmia. It was 3 months before I could work again and the after effects are horrible. Like random pain on my side. Her parents said this must be hard for you working this case. I said actually my PTSD is so much better now, noises and light reflecting off of stuff does not bother me as much. And I just got off desk duty for another recent cardiac arrest incident from a collapsed lung about a month ago. I'm still going to physical therapy and stuff from this last time. But just happy to be back at work and going to crime scenes. And not having to do so much paperwork.

Castle: pov Lanie texted me a quick message about the case they were working on. Once my meeting was over I headed over to the precinct. Ryan, Esposito and Kate were all Questioning the family members separately.

Kate: pov I talked to the parents a little bit more about grief and explained that my mom's murder started years before her death when Raglan, McCallister and Montgomery were kidnapping mobsters for ransom. Bracken was the Assistant District Attorney of New York at the time from 1988 to 1992. He heard about the kidnappings due to his job, but he realized that he couldn't charge the mobsters, and that the officers involved would walk free because he had no evidence against them. Instead, he blackmailed the three officers out of their ransom money. Years later, my mom, a lawyer named Johanna Beckett, was looking into the case of Joe Pulgatti, a mobster who had been locked up due to the kidnapping scheme. He was framed for the death of federal agent Bob Armen who died in the same alley. turns out he was killed by Captain Montgomery's gun in a struggle. When Bracken found out, he had Johanna and her entire team murdered by dick coonan to keep his corruption concealed from the public. He then used the ransom money to finance his political career, eventually rising to Senator and even becoming a possible candidate for a presidential campaign. My mom was stabbed in an alley and left in some garbage. After all of that everyone associated with the case dying I got shot at Captain Montgomery's funeral by a sniper hired by Bracken. I was eventually able to deduce his identity using files that recorded the transferring of the ransom money. Instead of going public and destroying his career and reputation, I renewed the deal that both Montgomery and Smith had made with Bracken: I would keep the files secret, and in exchange, Bracken would leave me in peace. I then struck him with my gun, giving him a facial scar which reminded him of me every time he looked at it. So my mother's death was connected to my shooting. The case that keeps on giving. To be continued. ………..

#books #reader #read #reading #bookreviewer #betareader #castle #fanfiction #katebeckett #tvshow

[emsartwork]

don’t usually do cr fan art just because of time but i had to draw the pretty presentsssss <3

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[yuzukult]

glossed over. (m) || nyt & reader

title: glossed over. pairing: nakamoto yuta x reader genre: angst, fluff, smut, childhood friends to lovers, best friend’s brother, idiots to lovers, coming-of-age (?), college!au, slowburn (?), pining, 90s theme word count: 18.2k  warnings: explicit smut, profanity; oc gets wasted at a party. prompt: times in your life where you thought nakamoto yuta was just your best friend’s older brother, a guy you had a little childish crush on. but little did you know, there was more than what meets the eye. a/n: this took way longer than expected. but this is for the 90s love collab event! check out the other authors and fics :D also, thanks to @/masterninjacow for helping me come up with a title despite not really knowing the route of the fic LOL also thanks to all my friends for beta-reading this! :) this fic style definitely is different from the other ones i've written so... hope you guys enjoy!

The Introduction

I like you. There’s a lot of weight in those words, oftentimes used lightly when expressing content on an encounter with someone, for an object, or even an experience, but it also carries a burden. You’ll never know if the person that you’re saying this to reciprocates those very emotions—and if they didn’t, would you be hurt in the end? But you’ll never truly understand the feeling of rejection from someone who doesn’t mirror those emotions—specifically if they’re from a certain boy.

And if you’ve learned anything about boys while growing up, it’s that crushing on your best friend’s older brother is slightly more common than you’d think.

Especially if it’s your best friend’s older brother.

Back in high school, it was universally known that Yura had the coolest older sibling in your friend group. The girls that hung out with the two of you were practically drooling over the sight of him—long, jet black locks, piercings that decorated his lobe and cartilages, all while he drove that 1990 Jaguar XJS in a customized midnight blue vinyl. He was part of the popular crowd at the time; hung out with the jocks, despite not being an athlete in any of the sports teams, and even getting along with a troublesome crew, the guys that constantly loiter outside of convenience stores and smoke in their cars until their lungs go black, and he didn’t even smoke.

Nonetheless, although he had that reputation, he remained… authentically nice. He invariably drove Yura home from school, even stayed behind those extra hours or ensured that he came back in time before she finished cheerleading practices, and some days, he’d drive you home too.

Nakamoto Yuta wasn’t just the cool, popular guy in school. He was a good brother. A loving son, a courteous friend—he was the definition of what a genuinely affable guy was. Literal textbook definition of perfection, or for whatever they listed under the phrase for ‘who-you’d-take-home-to-your-mom.’ Albeit that’s not what’s really running through your mind at that age.

He’s amiable and caring, altruistic when it comes to his friends, and more when it’s his family. Whenever his mom would cook dinner, he’d help cut the vegetables. And after eating, he’s already started to wash the dishes and cleared out the table. Or when his dad needed a hand with the at-home oil change for their cars—Yuta never hesitated to stop whatever he was doing just to assist him.

Simply put, Yuta had a pure heart.

And because of his pure heart, you couldn’t control yourself when you fell for him later on, it’s inevitable that you’d end up like all of Yura’s other friends. He never made it easy in the first place, especially when he gave you those tender gazes that had your heart melting like a stick of butter sitting on the kitchen counter on the hottest day of summer.

He’s just… that guy. The one that seems so out of reach, although a walk away from your best friend’s bedroom. You’d get to see him more frequently than the other girls that fawned over him from your leverage being Yura, yet at the same time, because of Yura, there’s no way he could be yours.

try something new.

TIMEFRAME: HIGH SCHOOL (FOURTEEN)

The first time you realized your stupid crush on your best friend’s older brother was when she invites you, the entirety of her friend group, along with Yuta and her parents to a Hibachi Grill. It sounds weird now, but as a fourteen year old, you couldn’t ask for much, and well, this was as good as it gets.

The enticing aroma of the beef sizzling on the grill, the onions, and don’t forget their signature fried rice, all swells and engulfs your senses that it awakens your hunger. Greasy countertops, loud hisses and the clacking against the cast iron, and the loud conversations between the customers made it all so exciting. Being able to have a birthday party here was like an initiation out of middle school, like a rite of passage into high school because having events like these at your house with a chaperone seemed lame. But here, you can kinda just do your own thing while the adults sit aside and converse on their own.

With that initiation though, comes ‘positions’ in this new group of friends.

You thoroughly enjoyed being next to Yura, kind of like a sidekick to a superhero. Even in school, while walking in the halls, passing other students, you sort of always stood adjacent to her as she waved and said her ‘hellos’ to everyone. But since hitting high school, things weren’t as they usually were because she obtained this new ‘friend group’ and it always felt a little… harder trying to get to know the other girls. Occasionally, it felt like their daggering stares were sharp with judgment, constantly questioning how someone like you were even friends with a girl like Yura. She’d always been the outgoing one; extrovertedness was a bonus trait from her being altogether benevolent, funny, and intelligent. The fact that she got along with everyone so effortlessly just made her all the more welcoming.

So, you overcome that reticent characteristic of yours, only for Yura’s birthday party. She’s been nothing but a good friend to you; including you to outings, asking you to come to playdates with just the two of you, and even picking you first as her partner in the classes you shared together when she obviously had other options. The two of you are opposites, you’ve come to conclude, but you love her for it.

But on that day, it felt like a competition in trying to get her attention.

There are five other girls from your class, all friends of hers, that desperately want to sit next to the birthday girl. She’s so cool, you’d think to yourself, because everyone liked her, so much that they’re fighting to get one of the spots beside her. Albeit you’re a bit reluctant to join the brawl, opting to stand in the sidelines. It’s a bit lonely, despite your best friend being right in front of you, and the abundance of people in attendance. No one talked to you specifically, they always preferred to talk to her instead. And you’d never want to steal the thunder from her, but part of you wished… to be loved in the way she gets loved.

You’re given the seat farthest away from Yura. Truthfully, it’s probably one of the most embarrassing moments of your childhood, but the instant that Yuta takes the seat beside you, the negativity of the thought washes away and your brain malfunctions when he says, “do you have in mind what you’re gonna order?”

“Uh,” you can barely speak, words are stuck in your throat because Yuta actually chose to sit next to you instead of Yura’s pretty friend Hyeri. “Uhm… maybe something without shrimp?”

“Are you allergic?”

You shake your head in response, face dug deep into the menu, but it’s not like he can see it anyway. “N-No,” you stuttered, chewing on your bottom lip anxiously for being so stupid right now. “I don’t like shrimp.”

“Have you tried it?” He asks, and although it seems like an obvious question, you respond with, “No, I haven’t.”

“Ah,” he nods, pursing up his lips briefly in thought. “How about I get something with the shrimp, and you can try it? And if you don’t like it, I can finish the rest.”

When the food comes, being left out from the group of friends doesn’t burden you anymore. It doesn’t haunt your thoughts or dampen your appetite because you’re feeling sad. Instead, it’s the contrary. Yuta keeps you company, asking questions about school, what you like about it, and even teaches you to try new things like shrimp, rather than coming up with an opinion for it before even trying it.

“How does it taste?” He queries, cheeks full of the stir-fried rice. “Do you like it? I could always finish the rest if you don’t.”

Finish… the rest of your shrimp? The idea of him sharing a piece of food with you has heat lingering around your face, and you can guarantee that it’s not from the grill. “A-Ah, no it’s okay, I uh… it’s good, actually. Thanks for that. I probably would’ve never known I liked it if it weren’t for you.”

With a soft smile, he chuckles afterwards before reaching for his drink. “Any time. Call me if you ever want to try new things, I’m always down for it.”

Maybe you’ll take up on that offer one day.

first ride, first times.

TIMEFRAME: HIGH SCHOOL (FOURTEEN/FIFTEEN) - FRESHMAN YEAR

You think the first time Yuta didn’t just seem out of reach but felt like he was when he got his driver’s license.

It’s a rite of passage into your true teenage years, not like a thirteen year old being excited that their age now has the word “teen” at the end of the number nor is it like that hibachi grill party that Yura has (she thinks it’s lame now, looking back). A license meant that you didn’t need your parents to come get you anymore, it meant that you could cruise down the roads and highways, hand hanging outside the window with the breeze flowing in between your fingers while going places wherever and whenever you wanted, living as free as a teenager could. It’s amazing what significance a rectangular piece of plastic holds.

He’s sixteen now, and his mom stood at the threshold of the Nakamoto residence with her arms crossed with a slight twitch in her lips. She’s annoyed; you can practically see it radiating off of her body because she’s not ready for her baby boy to be on the road, but the expression planted on his dad’s face is the complete opposite.

“Remember all that ‘free’ labor I made you do for the past three summers? Well, congrats. It wasn’t free. I kept all the money you earned and got you that car you have a poster of in your bedroom.”

The smile on Yuta’s face stretched so wide that it extended further than cheek to cheek.

He’s so lovely when his eyes sparkle at the sight of his own car, one that he can say is his car and not his parents’. He doesn't have to drive around in that champagne-colored 1995 Honda Odyssey his parents sported, a car that’s notoriously known to be a soccer mom car. Yuta has his own car now, his dream car, and oddly enough, he feels further away today.

Yet you’re immediately reeled back in when he turns to look at you and his little sister, chuckling brightly before waving the keys in his hands. “Who wants ice cream?”

But when you spotted him in the parking lot of your high school, hair slicked back with his signature leather jacket, exiting out of his new vehicle with the gorgeous popular girls coming by his side almost instantaneously, it’s when you realize that Nakamoto Yuta isn’t just your best friend’s older brother anymore. He’s the cool, well-rounded, and loved-by-everyone type of guy that doesn’t turn your way anymore to give you that little wave and a soft ‘hello.’

we’re just friends.

AGE: HIGH SCHOOL (AGE SIXTEEN) - JUNIOR YEAR

You think your first heartbreak was when Yuta gave you his textbook as a hand-me-down.

He made arrangements to meet somewhere outside of his University because he claims that he was too occupied with after school organizations, not to mention homework, so you bike to where he said he’d be after you’d get off school in compromise.

It’d be a bit nerve-wracking, trying to collect yourself and come here to where basically all the “big kids” were while you were still a high school student, but it has heart racing in anxious flips in front of Yuta because there’s a reputation you’re trying to uphold. You wanted to seem more than just… a junior in high school, possibly being something more by the time you reach college.

But the moment you detected him in the crowd of people, you slowly approached him. It’s then when the atmosphere suddenly shifts, and you can’t placate exactly why.

He’s not the same Nakamoto Yuta you knew back when you were growing up; this person he’s exhibiting is quite the adverse. Hair doused in what feels like a hundred pounds of gel, oversized denim jacket on his shoulders with a smug look on his face, he doesn’t feel like your Yuta. Albeit, when his eyes lock onto yours, that pompous look immediately wipes off, almost like he had a facade just to carry out in front of his friends.

“Oh, hey! You’re here. I have the book.” Slipping the backpack off, he shuffled through the bigger pocket as you bounced on the balls of your feet awkwardly, waiting patiently while his friends observed you with curiosity. It’s like their peculiar stares are piercing through you like a laser, and left you unsure where to place yourself.

“Who’s that?” The one dude asks, gesturing to you with his chin. “Looks like a little ass kid.”

“A friend,” Yuta retorts back casually, but the second the book is in your hand and his gaze meets the guy, he swallows and changes his answer promptly like he’s got something to hide. “Uh, actually, she’s actually my little sister’s best friend. Nothing special.”

It would be a lie if you said that you never thought Yuta only saw you as Yura’s best friend.

But a small, tiny piece of you wished that there was more beyond that.

There were times where he’d pass by his sister’s bedroom in the hallway, showcasing that lovely smile of his with a short greeting in your direction. Something about the way he says your name, how delicate and sweet he makes it sound, unlike the way he says your other friends' names. It gives you that brief burst of serotonin, as if you’re seven again with a root beer flavored Dum Dum lollipop in your mouth. And maybe you misread his actions, but when he’d come back from the kitchen and hand you a soda, and nobody else, part of you sort of hoped that maybe Yuta liked you back.

Then again, a girl can dream.

Albeit it doesn’t stop the aching your heart, knowing that he sees you as just Yura’s best friend, not even as a friend. With a clench of your jaw, you merely mutter a quick “thanks” before stuffing the textbook into your backpack before quickly leaving, hopping onto your bike back home.

Nakamoto Yuta will never be yours, it seems. He’s only but a dream, a fantasy that won’t come true.

But when he sees you on prom night, arms linked with some pretty boy in your grade named ‘Eunwoo,’ he swears that his blood was boiling in his veins. Heat lingered around his face, neck flushing red, and a tightened fist by his side, he’s hesitant about making any moves because you’re not his to react this way.

Yuta doesn’t know what it was that was churning in the pits of his stomach, but he didn’t like this kid. He had bad vibes from him the moment he laid his eyes on Eunwoo, but he couldn’t say anything—not when you’ve got that cheery smile on your face as you looked up at the boy in your pastel blue dress, one that makes you breathtakingly beautiful that he almost forgot his anger. It wasn’t his place to say, either.

He stays silent, murmuring a quiet, “you look gorgeous tonight,” that brought heat to your cheeks.

Looking back, you knew the second you fell in love with Nakomoto Yuta. But you never knew that in that very moment, Nakamoto Yuta had already been a goner for you.

don’t cry, blue skies.

AGE: HIGH SCHOOL (SEVENTEEN/EIGHTEEN) - SENIOR YEAR

There was something different in your expression, Yuta notices this when he opens the door to the sound of you knocking. It’s like there’s a facade, some type of curtain that’s shielding whatever it was you were actually feeling, and part of him wished he wasn’t your best friend’s older brother so he could pierce through that without much suspicion.

“Hey, whatcha doing here?” He questions curiously, hand slipping into the pocket of his sweatpants.

“Is Yura here?” You ask, skipping all the formalities. This wasn’t normally how you acted, especially since there was always something hesitant in your words when you spoke to Yuta. “Is she home? In her bedroom?” You’d been fiddling with your fingers, practically shaking but you were trying your best to camouflage what’s actually running through your head.

Yuta juts out his bottom lip apologetically. “Sorry, kiddo. She’s out with her boyfriend. Anything I could do for you?”

Quickly, you shake your head. “Uh-n-no,” you stutter, attempting to walk backwards to get off their porch, but Yuta follows warringly. “I’m f-f-fine.”

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Yuta holds onto your arm, pulling you toward him before you could trip over the first step. “Talk to me, yeah? You seem troubled.”

It doesn’t take long for Yuta to suddenly have you in his arms, face dug into the fabric of his shirt.

Being in his embrace feels like home. The smell of his cologne reminds you of clean linens, fresh laundry, or like a warm morning with the sun peeking through the curtains as you’re drowning in the newly washed bed sheets, despite the darkness that casts in your heart, the sky mimicked you, obscuring into shades of grey, cold and gloomy.

“Wanna go inside, love? It looks like it’s gonna rain soon.”

At another time, maybe the term of endearment would’ve warmed your heart. But this time isn’t like that. Your tears fall harder, after you thought it’d been impossible with the amount of sobs that escape from your lips. It hurts, as much as you didn’t like to admit, because whatever it was that you had with him was solely for the fact that you wanted to get over Yuta, and here you were… in Yuta’s arms.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, other than the soft weeps that come from you and your staccato breathing. “He left, Yuta.”

He furrowed his brows in confusion. “Who left?”

“Eun...woo,” you manage to say, but with each syllable is a clench to your chest. “We were dating for a couple months, and he told me today that we weren’t going to workout anymore. He was my first boyfriend, Yuta.”

Yuta doesn’t mention it, but the second you called Eunwoo your first boyfriend made his heart twinge.

He let you cry that night, head on his chest and on his bed. Yuta never brings it up, but he’s had girls over before, but he never ever felt comfortable having them close like this; laid on top of his duvet, wearing his hoodie while drenching the second shirt he’s on because you drenched the first one.

things aren’t as they seem.

“Is it too loud?” He asks, but another asteroid explodes and practically bursts his own eardrum, deteriorating the purpose of his question because it’s evidently too loud. His nose crinkles at the booming, and an apologetic look smears across his face. “Sorry. Should I lower the volume down?”

“No, it’s okay,” you respond with a smile, and Yuta doesn’t admit it, but the sight tugs on his heartstrings. “It doesn’t bother me.”

It’s a casual Saturday afternoon; clear sunny skies with a light breeze in the air, however you opt for sitting indoors instead of by the tree outside, enjoying this view of Yuta seated on the floor and in front of the bulky CRT television with the controller for his 6 Sega Dreamcast.

“Are you sure?” He queries yet again, scratching the back of his neck. It’s his house, you think, and he should be able to play a game in peace, but the fact that he confirms whether or not you’re okay is… heartwarming. It means he cares about your preference and your comfort.

You nod again, paying no mind to even look up when he asks, turning another page of your book. “Yes, Yuta. Just do what you like.”

Deciding the game isn’t much of his interest anymore, he shuts it off by pressing down the power button before stealing a seat beside you on the couch. “How intrigued are you by that book?”

You quirk a brow. “I guess not as much as I am of you,” dog-earring the page, you close the book and lay it flat on your lap. “What’s up?”

“How are you?”

This was strange. Yuta never really actually sat down and had a full length conversation with you before, so seeing him sitting in the free spot on the couch adjacent from you isn’t familiar. “I’m… I think I’m doing well. How are you? Why are you asking me this?”

“I can’t ask you a simple question?” He shoots back, copying your expression. “Do you… Do you get mad sometimes that you have to wait for Yura? Like… you’re at her house right now, sitting on her couch while her brother sits nearby and plays video games. It doesn’t bug you?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you place the book onto the coffee table in front of you. “Quite honestly? No. But that’s because I grew up with both of you, in this house as well, and I know your parents almost as well as my own. This is practically my second home. So… not really.”

He takes a minute, sinking in your response as he leans back onto the cushion of the couch.

“Are… Are you okay?”

You never know, and he never tells you, but when you ask those very words, he feels like his anxiety, insecurities, and instability that was once locked in a cage are now let free. He can’t help but spill, constantly speaking to you like word vomit, and there’s just always something about you that makes him feel comfortable to do so.

“I—Where do I even begin?” He starts, letting out a chuckle but nothing about this is funny. Yuta seems distressed, head hazy, fogged up with thoughts that he hasn’t been able to release.

But you never learn that afternoon that when Yuta pours out his recent difficulties of school, of social groups, and the fear of never finding an internship, he’s never voiced these troubles out loud. You’re his… version of a diary, in the form of a person, holding many more qualities than just a piece of paper to write on—he trusts you.

the second time he calls you his friend.

Yuta is a generally reserved guy that contains his anger well. In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him heated before.

But just like how weather changes, and people change too.

It was a hot day, from what you can recall. The humidity made your skin sticky, practically adhering to the leather seats of Yura’s couch as you waited patiently for her, and that’s not to mention all of the sweat that’d been accumulating on the top of your skin. This type of weather was disgusting, and candidly, you prefer the cold, brisk winds that winter brings but in the city you live in, there is no avoiding summer. Even in a black tank top and champion grey shorts, you can’t escape the heat.

“Yura!” You whine groggily, slouching back on the loveseat. “Are you ready yet? It’s hot. I wanna go to the pool.”

She hollers something in response from her bedroom, but the walls from the hallways are thick enough to muffle the sounds, so you pout disappointingly, deciding that it’d be better to stay put.

The front door slams shut, following an angry Yuta that huffs his way out to the back porch; jaw clenched, narrowed eyes, and tightened fists by his side; you genuinely thought he looked adorable like this but it’s probably not a good time to make that kind of comment. “Yuta?”

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, attempting to shove the sliding door open but it’s a bit reluctant. When it finally complies, Yuta was already close to breaking it. “Fuck.” He makes his way out, arms resting against the white plastic railings that’s installed on the perimeter of the deck, attempting to catch his breath but the heat doesn’t help.

“Yura?” You call out once more, mostly as a test to see how much time you have left. She lets out another shriek, something along the lines of admitting she needed another twenty minutes, only for you to roll your eyes and head to the kitchen to snag up a couple sodas.

Truthfully, he’s not sure when’s the last time he blew up. He’s usually composed, oftentimes playing referee when it comes to heated situations, but this time around, he was the one playing offense. But Yuta felt tired. It was a constant battle trying to be someone he wasn’t, even though he seemed to have everything put together, if he’d been truly honest… he wasn’t even sure why he was trying so hard to put a front for people.

But when you come out with those soft drinks in your hands, it’s like everything is… lighter.

“How are you feeling?” You ask, so casually like you didn’t see him just knocking over something from the tabletop by the front door. “Seems like today is a pretty bad day. Sure, everyone might think otherwise because the sun is out, it’s warm, and it’s perfect for a pool day. But in my perspective, I think it sucks. It’s hot. I’m gonna burn, no matter how much sunscreen I apply, and I’m sweating all day.”

For the first time that day, Yuta laughs.

You pull a couple jokes out your ass (per usual), and he can’t stop the laughter. His stomach is aching by the end of it, having to pop open one of the cans and take a sip for a breather. “I… I uh… wasn’t feeling that great earlier.”

“Mm,” you hum, pretending like this is new information. “I thought you purposely dropped the catch-all bowl by the counter.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “I… thanks, kid. You’re a great friend.”

Fuck, Yuta was so good at breaking your heart without even trying.

And it’s worse when later on, you’re at the community pool with Yura, lathering the stupid sticky sunscreen lotion, that she claims is ‘life-changing,’ on her exposed back when you see her, the prettiest girl holding onto Yuta’s arms, giggling and making him laugh like you did earlier today.

How could someone you’ve never even been with cause this much heartache?

stuck in the suburbs.

AGE: COLLEGE (TWENTY) - FRESHMAN YEAR

“Yura,” you grumble, slamming the payphone back with a huff afterwards. It’s typical of her since she started dating Jonghyun; constantly staying over at his house to the point that if you called her at his place, they stopped picking up (you suspect they’re doing more than just making out, especially since they’re going through that first-college-relationship phase). But you needed her tonight, especially since the last bus from the University just left and there’s no way for you to get home. Sure, you could hitch-hike or even walk, but the late hours of the night isn’t necessarily the safest place for a young woman.

Your parents are out of town (how typical) and there’s no one else but to call but a taxi service—then again they’re hella expensive on a Friday night. Why did you have to stay and finish that goddamn paper on that stupid ass Power Macintosh that takes forever to load anything anyway? The dumb rainbow pinwheel was starting to tick you off, so you grabbed your bags and left but it didn’t occur to you what time it currently was. By then, it was too late and the last bus had taken off.

Then, an idea hits.

It’s not a bad one, just one that you were hoping to avoid. Anything but that, is what you were thinking, but at this point, you’re running out of options. It’s dark, lonely, and creepy out here, and the last thing you need to happen with your parents being away is going missing.

Swallowing your anxiety, you’re tapping in the Nakamoto residence number. But before you could even finish dialing, someone hollers your name. “Hey!”

You flinch. Gradually, you turn to the voice, heart palpitating because what if it’s some creepy dude who knows you from class and now that you’re alone, it’s his time to pounce? What’s he going to do? Kidnap you? Oh my god what if he—

“What the hell are you doing here alone at night?” You swore your heart dropped to your ass, but the second you see the owner who asks the question at hand, you release a sigh of relief.

“Holy shit, Yuta.”

His brows are furrowed in concern, hoodie so big it practically drowns him. His hair is ruffled, slightly damp with the blonde highlights peeking through the black, puffy mess and you’re wondering what he was doing before running into you. “Holy shit is right. Why are you here alone? At night, for that matter. It’s not safe for girls to be roaming around by themselves. There are nasty dudes out there, and there’s no telling what they’d actually do if they saw you here all vulnerable and by yourself. What happened?”

With the burden lifted from your shoulders, you drop them. “I got caught up in schoolwork. Then the last bus left, Yura is at her boyfriend’s and my parents are out of town—” “And you didn’t even consider calling me?” Well, to be quite fair, you were going to call him, that was until he coincidentally met you here. It was going to take some time but you were planning on calling the Nakamoto residence in hopes someone else could grab you (mostly not Yuta, though.)

“I mean, I was going to call your house but—”

“No, call me next time. I saved up money for a phone,” Yuta whips out a Motorola StarTac from his pocket. “Call me next time. Don’t depend on someone else. I’ll come grab you, wherever you are. I don’t like knowing that you’re out here stranded by yourself.”

He’s a bit heated, you take note, almost as mad as he was that day he came home from hanging out with his friends. Instead of only angry, there was a hint of concern in his tone, like he was worried for your well-being. But that’s just Yuta—caring. You had to shake yourself from these potential ‘what if he likes me’ thoughts because you were afraid of leading yourself on.

When you hop into his Jaguar, reality sinks in that you’re going to be alone with Yuta.

“Wanna listen to music?” He asks, interrupting all the thoughts inside of your head. Startled, you nod continuously, unsure how else to respond. He can’t do things to your heart like this, not if he potentially has a girlfriend. It’s not fair to her, you repeat to yourself, but… this is Yuta, and your feelings never went away. However, you’ll never cross the line anyway.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I uh, I don’t see why not.”

He pops in a cassette. “Mm, tell me if you wanna listen to something else. I have a bunch of options in my glove compartment.”

When the tapes start rolling, there’s no transition. Immediately, there’s this blaring guitar strum, four dudes yelling, and weird whimpers in the background.

If you were a child, you’d probably pee yourself right now.

It was frightening, you had to admit, but at the same time, super funny. In fact, you burst into laughter, stomachs twisting in pain from the sudden intrusion, tears nearly threatening to spill onto your cheeks.

Yuta lowers the volume. “Wh-what! Oh my god, are you… are you crying?”

“I’m sorry!” You’re wiping the ends of your eyes. “I just—oh my god, that was great, thanks, Yuta.”

He quirks a brow curiously. “For what?”

You point to his sound system. “That song. You’re not gonna tell me you actually like that, are you? Because there’s absolutely no way.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because you’re Nakamoto Yuta. You love soft music, the kind you play when it’s raining outside and you can hear the gentle patters against the window. You like songs that remind you of nice days, ones you can reflect on and dream about momentarily in those three solid minutes. This,” you’re gesturing the cassette player, “isn’t you.”

He’s got that look on his face like he’s trying to play it off. “Pft. What? No.”

“Come on.”

Yuta stares at you; it feels like hours have passed the longer he keeps it up, but he eventually concedes, leaning over to tap your leg out the way and pop open the glove compartment. There, he has an array of cassettes, all labeled with washi tape and scribbled with his sloppy handwriting in a black sharpie. He snatches up the one that reads, ‘dreams’ in his butchered lettering, recalling back to the time his mom would whack his hand with a chopstick because his e’s and a’s looked too similar.

He clicks a button that pops out the tape with the weird songs, and one that he’s seemingly claiming as his actual favorites.

And when Yuta hits play—you feel like you got a glimpse into what it’s like to be loved by Nakamoto Yuta.

Eyes closed, head leaning back against the car upholstery. “This sounds like you.”

You don’t ever know, but Yuta looks at you with that gaze so adoringly, like you’re the prettiest girl in the world, and like you’re the only one. There’s something about you that has his heartstrings tugging, already swooning over the sight of you listening to the music that he likes, and not the kind that he pretends to like in front of his friends.

When you put your jacket on one day at the Nakamoto residence, ready to leave and head home, there’s something rectangular in your pocket that definitely wasn’t there before. Furrowing your brows in curiosity, you pull it out and notice that same scratchy handwriting with the sharpie marker that’s in need of replacing.

‘smth u might like. yt.’

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t listen to that tape everyday religiously.

you’re sick but he’s lovesick.

AGE: COLLEGE (TWENTY-ONE) - SOPHOMORE YEAR

Dim rooms, flashing lights, booming music and the plethora of people packed inside of this house party is probably way over safety regulations, but nonetheless, if a frat party was happening… well, then it happened.

There are more kids drinking underaged than you can count on your two hands, and too be completely honest, but who were you to tell them ‘no’? Plus, would it be a Beta Theta Pi house party if it didn’t have at least twenty kids drinking under the legal age?

“We should take shots!” Your new friend, Tzuyu, suggests while waving shot glasses in the air shakily with some of the alcohol spilling over. “It’ll be fun!”

You frown, slightly uninterested. Drinking has always been something you did for fun, as in something like mojitos or margaritas with delicious foods laid out in front of you. Drinking at a party however, wasn't really your forte. Hard liquor straight up felt like torture, and you’re not even quite sure how Tzuyu downs the tequila so easily. It burns.

“I—Maybe not, Tzuyu,” she’s jumping to the music, hair messy and in her face, some sticking to the sweat on her forehead. “I might head out soon.”

“But…” Tzuyu whines your name, pulling on your arm and tapping your other new friend, Dahyun on the shoulder. “Don’t leave. Drink with us! You’re so cool—but you’ll seem even cooler to Yuta oppa if you… let go for a bit.”

You quirk a brow, perplexed as to how Tzuyu knew that information. “Why are you bringing up Yuta?”

“Ugh,” Dahyun groans, rolling her eyes. “We all see the way you look at him, babe. It’d be more surprising if you didn’t like him. Plus, it’s that classic best friend’s brother trope. I’m appalled that Yura doesn’t know.”

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about,” you feign ignorance, deciding that snatching the shot cup from Tzuyu’s hand would be a better distraction. “I don’t have feelings for Yuta!” And with that, you down the tequila and grimace moments after Dahyun hands you a slice of lime.

The night goes by quickly, you sadly admit, and it’s mostly because you can’t remember most of it.

“I feel queasy,” you admit with a pout dressed upon your lips, stumbling in your sneakers. Yuta recalls these as your favorite, wearing them for almost every occasion, so he lets out a sigh because if you’re going to vomit, he wouldn’t want it to be on these shoes. “I wanna upchuck on a woodchuck.”

“A… what?” He blinks, watching as you puff your cheeks. “Want me to drive you home?”

He spotted you from across the room—drunk and sloppy, losing footing in your steps along with your friends. He doesn’t know them, but he’s heard of their reputation; drink hard, regrets are for later. And well you… don’t fit the M.O, and Yuta wasn’t going to let you fall into that motto, so he drags out of the party without hesitation.

Abruptly, you straighten your posture. “Uh, nope, no, nope. Momma bear and papa bear would definitely ground me at the age of twenty-one. Never heard of that before? You will now.”

“Okay, well how about you stay at my place? It’s not that far. It’s another frat house, but at least I have a bedroom to myself.”

You rub your eyes tiredly, pursing your lips. “Yuta, we’re not even dating yet and you wanna share a bed with me?”

He nearly chokes on his own saliva. “No, I wouldn’t, no, that’s not appropriate, kiddo.” Yuta pulls you back up when you flop your body down again. “I just want you to get somewhere back safe. I’ll stay on the couch or sleep on the floor or something.”

Face dropping, you seem disappointed and he can’t place why. “Do you not like me in that way, Yuta?”

“I’m—what? Sorry, I’m—what?” What were you even saying? She’s inebriated, he thinks to himself, she probably doesn’t even know what she’s saying.

“I like you, you know,” you say in a sing-song voice, hands cupping his cheeks. “You’re so cute. Wish you were my boyfriend.”

Yuta swallows, mouth slightly agape and words vacuumed from his vocabulary. “You—You what?”

“Mm,” you hum along to the song booming inside of the house, swaying your hips to melody. “It would be nice, yaknow. Havin’ ya as my boyfriend, taking me places, taking care of me. Callin’ me pretty. All that good stuff. It was nice from Eunwoo, but I’ve always had this huge fat crush on you, it’s not the same hearing it from another boy.”

Yuta practically has to pull you back to his frat house after that, but he’s left unspoken and in awe at all this new information. You’ve liked him, this entire time, all along, since the beginning. You’ve been pining over him quietly, watching as he ran over these obstacles during college, meeting girls potentially, and even dealing with him changing personalities before your eyes, and you remained still having feelings for him.

He slips off your shoes after dropping you on his bed, carefully placing them in the corner of his room for the next morning. Tucking you underneath the covers, your eyes are immediately shut closed, a smile pulling at the edges of your lips. “Mm, cozy.”

“Is it?” He chuckles, pulling the trash bin beside you. “If you feel like you wanna ‘upchuck on a woodchuck,’ there’s a can here.”

You nod slowly, nuzzling your face into the softness of his blanket. “I like you, Yuta. I think you’d take good care of me. You should be my boyfriend one day.”

Yuta doesn’t sleep well that night—in fact, he’s laying on a used yoga mat with a spare blanket and pillow, watching your tired expression. Arm hanging off the bed, face smushed into the sheets—he can’t help but think you’re so pretty like this, so close, and fingertips length as his, but you’re not his.

And part of him wishes you were.

He sighs, pushing a strand of your hair away from your face. “I thought I told you to call me if you wanted to try new things.”

sunken realities.

“Damn, he’s fucking fine,” Nari mutters, clicking her tongue at the sight of a guy. You don’t pay her much mind, figuring that clearing out the tables at the diner was more of a priority, but it piqued your interest when you heard her wince.

It’s Yura whacking Nari on the back of her head.

“That’s my brother, you idiot,” she hisses, feigning a hit and Nari whines again. “No way in Hell am I letting your stupid ass get all cozy with my brother.”

“But he’s so… yum, Yura,” Nari pouts, shoulders dropping in disappointment. “Even ya bestie prob agrees.”

Scrunching up your nose, your face heats up from being put on the spot. “I… I have no comment,” you quickly reply, shuffling back to resume wiping the mustard yellow resin tables. Nari’s bold; she often gets what she wants simply because she straightforwardly asks for it. Last month, she had her eyes set on Johnny Suh, and the day after his name slipped from her mouth, she was already under his grasp as his arm candy.

Yura points at Nari sternly. “No,” and Nari juts out her bottom lip yet again. “Absolutely not. He’s actually a decent guy, and we get along great. I’m not letting him date a girl like you, especially with your track record.”

“And what’s wrong with my track record?”

“Babe, I love you, but you’re a hoe. You’re gonna drop him the moment you get in his pants and I’d rather him be in something serious.”

Nari scowls. She moves over to get a better view of you before calling out your name. “Hey. You’ve been friends with Yura for how long? Did you ever make a move on Yuta?”

Yura pushes Nari away from interrogating you, making some weird sounds with her mouth. “Nari! Stop, if she did, I would’ve already let her have a chance with Yuta. Not you, though, because I don’t trust you.”

Well… this is… new information.

Throughout your years of knowing Yura, she’s never mentioned any of this before. In fact, the thought of you ever dating Yuta never even was a point in a conversation, which brings the question: how did Yura really feel about it?

Abruptly, you shake your head from these thoughts. To be quite frank, Yuta didn’t reciprocate any feelings for you, so just the idea of it was surely just a fun idea—nothing actually worthwhile thinking about.

His chuckles echo from across the room; seated in a scarlet red booth in a corner with his friends from university, there’s a smile that beams brightly across his face that has your heart tightening from the mere sight. It makes you think about the moments you shared with him through your childhood, questioning from time to time if there ever could be more, but your position still stays the same. Yura’s best friend. His little sister’s best friend.

“Namjoon is driving me home tonight,” Yura informs, uneasily too. “I uh… that means I can’t come with you home.”

“Oh,” you blink blankly. “There’s a spare bike in the back—“

Yura rolls her eyes. “Don’t be stupid. Yuta will wait for you when Doyoung comes to relieve you off your shift.”

“I mean, it’s totally fine. I could just ride—“

Your best friend calls your name out in a hard tone, and you’re starting to feel as small as Nari did when Yura told her ‘no’. “He offered to stay. Let him drive you home, okay?”

You whimper. “Please don’t.”

“What’s wrong with Yuta?” Well, for one: you’ve had this stupid persistent crush on him since god-knows-when, two: it would be super weird to be alone in the car with him again, especially after professing that said crush on him, and three: he’s with his cool friends. He’s not going to want to drive you home, and knowing Yuta, he would, but it doesn’t mean he wants to.

“Uh, you know. He’s with his friends. It’d be rude to make him ditch them for me.”

Yura clicks her tongue irritably, crossing her arms over her chest. “Come on. Yuta always is willing to drop everything if it means driving you home safely. It doesn’t make this time any different.”

“Please, no he’s not. He’s just being nice.”

“Stop being stupid, he likes you!” She exclaims, flailing his arms.

“Well, he kinda has to, I’m his sister’s best friend—”

“—No, like… he likes you, you idiot. Just let him drive you home. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed these past few years. He keeps looking at you with little hearts in his eyes; I’m surprised he hasn’t confessed yet.”

You freeze. It feels like you’re frozen in a block of ice, or that your feet are stuck in quicksand because you can’t seem to move. Was Yura really telling you this in the middle of a workshift? How are you supposed to react? Because truth be told, you don’t really believe her. “I—Huh?” You shake your head in response. “Nevermind. Forget that. I can ask one of the chefs to drive me home.”

Your best friend groans, running her fingers through her hair. “Did you not hear me? I said Yuta likes you.”

“Uh, yeah. I heard it.”

“Then what? You don’t believe me?”

“Eh. Yeah, I don’t believe you.”

“Well—” Before Yura could even finish, Yuta was already standing by the counter with the biggest grin on his face. “Oh. Yuta,”

“Hey,” he looks over at you. “When does your co-worker get here? I’ll drive you home.”

You wave your hands dismissively, “No, no. It’s totally fine, Yuta. I can get home by myself.”

Yuta raises a brow. “By how? You don’t think I’m just going to leave you here, are you?” He’s adjusting the jacket on his shoulders, shoving his hands into the front pockets afterwards. “Because I know there’s a bike in the back, and if I see you riding it, don’t be surprised if I’m chasing you down. Am I that repulsive?”

You mentally wince. He’s the complete opposite of repulsive, but with how you’ve been tipping on eggshells around him, it’s not surprising that he has that impression. “No, you’re not, Yuta, I just… I don’t wanna interrupt your uh… outing.” Gesturing the group of college kids at the table he came from, you puff your cheeks out. “I don’t want to be the party pooper.”

“You are far from being a party pooper. I’m the one that offered.”

“Yeah, but like… you don’t have to drive me home.”

“But I want to,” he says, this time sternly. “I want you home safe, so I’m going to drive you home myself.”

You glance over at Yura who only smiles in content, shrugging her shoulders as if she doesn’t have influence with an input on this. With a heavy sigh, you nod, unraveling the tie of your apron from around your waist when you spot Doyoung entering the diner. “Alright,” you cave in, “you can drive me home.”

“Well, don’t sound too excited,” he jokes, but you only narrow your gaze at him. “I promise the ride won’t be too bad. I need to talk to you anyways.”

Aw, fuck. Was he going to bring up what happened at the party? Because if that was the case, maybe if you make a run for it now, grab your bag from the back and slip out the door—

“Oh, here’s your bag,” Yura hands over your backpack with a mischievous look on her face, like she knew your plan all along. “Wouldn't want you sneaking out the back now, would we?” Fucking bitch—although you did love her. Just not right now.

On your way out, Yuta waves goodbye to his friend group, and you don’t miss the way some of the girls snarled in your direction. You recognize one of the faces—Haeri, one of the volleyball players, D1 for your University’s team—and she did not look happy seeing you trail behind Yuta. “I’m headin’ out, guys.”

Haeri’s face contorts into a pout. “Oh no, Yuta, why not stay a little longer?”

He shuffles through his jacket for his keys. “Uh, gotta drive this little one home. But maybe next time, guys.”

“She can’t take the bus?” Haeri has her jaw resting in her hands, elbows flat on the table. “It’s not that dark out.”

One of Yuta’s good friend’s, Jungwoo, stares at Haeri suspiciously. “Dude, it’s like pitch black dark outside. Why would she take the bus home alone?” Jungwoo gestures to Yuta with his chin. “Drive her home, bud. I’ll hold down the fort here. I can drive Haeri and them home.”

Haeri rolls her eyes. “But I was hoping for a ride from Yuta.”

“Well, Yuta is occupied. Don’t be difficult.”

“I can take the bus,” you quickly interject, adjusting the straps of your backpack. “It’s really not a problem.”

Both Jungwoo and Yuta shoot a glare at you. “Don’t be stupid, kid. Let him drive you. It’s safer. It’s not like she doesn’t have a ride, so she’ll be fine,” Jungwoo shoos Yuta with his hands. “Go, go, before this one starts something else.” Haeri scowls at his comment, pursing her lips up in indignation.

the drive.

God, this was fucking awkward.

Truthfully, you didn’t want to be here. It’s the reason why you kept dodging a ride with Yuta in the first place; the perspiring hands, racing heartbeat, and there always feels like something is lodged in your throat, preventing you from speaking.

“How was work today?” He’s starting small talk, and you don’t want to talk at all. Just drive home, drop you off, and head back to his friends. Why’s he even trying? You confessed, he didn’t respond back to anything you said, and pretended like nothing even happened. So why was he still trying to be nice? He’s leading you on, even if you already know he doesn’t reciprocate feelings.

“Fine,” you reply tersely. You keep your focus outside the window, watching the street lights pass by.

“That’s it?” He asks, sneaking a glimpse in your direction. “Why are you being so… short?”

“No reason,” fiddling with the material of the seatbelt between your fingers, it helps lessen the tension. “Just… don’t have much to share is all.”

“Is it about the confession?”

You freeze. It’s like the car stopped moving, the street lights don’t pass by anymore, and the clicking of the analog clock on his dashboard halts its movements. You’re almost positive that your heart impedes, delaying in its beats, and you’re left unsure how to act.

“Because if it is, don’t worry about it.”

Was that… it? So… you poured your heart out for a boy that you’ve been hopelessly in love with for god knows how long, and in the end, it resulted in… nothing? Not even a straightforward rejection. Is this what it comes to?

“Cool,” you suck in your cheeks. There’s really nothing else to say to him, especially since he doesn’t have anything to say back.

Just then, Yuta pulls the car over on the side of the road.

Your head swings to look at him, brows furrowed in confusion. “Uh, something wrong with the car? Everything good?”

He puts the car in park, pushing back his seat to get comfortable. “Let’s talk, yeah?”

“About what?”

“You know. About us. You don’t expect me to just brush off what happened the night of the party, do you? They were fucking drinking—and there was nobody there to take care of you!” Oh. You honestly thought for a second there, he was going to bring up that you told him that you liked him. “What if someone took advantage of you?”

“I was fine,” you retort, irritated. “They were my friends. They would’ve taken care of me.”

“They were definitely not your friends. Your friend is Yura.”

Your nose scrunches up in revelation when he only says his sister’s name. “I have more than one friend, Yuta. It doesn’t have to be Yura. I know a handful of people, and the fact that you make it sound like I know only Yura is kind of offensive.”

His expression softens. “You know I don’t mean that. They just… they’re not a good crowd.”

“Okay, well, thanks for that. You’re not my brother, but I appreciate you looking out for me. I know that me being Yura’s age and her best friend might give off that vibe, but I don’t need you to take care of me.”

Yuta sighs, ruffling his hair in slight frustration. “It’s not that, I just… what if something happened to you?”

“Nothing would’ve. I could take care of myself.”

“I took you to my apartment that night, in case you forgot. I tended to you, made sure you were okay.”

“I could’ve gotten a ride home. You didn’t have to bring me back to your place.”

“Would you stop?” Yuta exclaims, dropping his body into the driver’s seat. “Look, alright? It’s not just that, I’m not just worried for you like I am about Yura, I genuinely… just… look, I don’t like seeing you unsafe. I don’t even think of you remotely close to a sister, if I’m being honest.”

“Then what?” He’s taking too long to spit out what he wants to say, and you’re getting tired of it. “Just an acquaintance? Someone you can’t stand because they’re so careless?”

“No—” he groans, head falling back on his seat. “I don’t even see you in that light.”

“Then what? You know what, nevermind. Take me home. I’m exhausted. I’ve been on my feet the entire day, I tried going home alone, but you’re persistent on driving me back only to not,” hand wrapping a grip on the door handle, you grab the top strap of your backpack, ready to hop out. “I can walk home.”

He shakes his head in disbelief, tapping his fingers against his leather steering wheel. “I like you, alright?”

You nearly choke on your own saliva.

“Like… more than a friend, not like my sister’s best friend. Like… I want to be your boyfriend.”

Blinking blankly, you stay frozen in your seat, unsure what actions to make next. Yuta likes you, out of all the girls he could have feelings for, including that pretty girl you saw at the diner.

“I-Uh, what about Haeri?”

He tilts his head, muddled by your question. “What… what about Haeri?”

Chewing on your bottom lip, you lean back to melt into your seat. This was all too much information, too much new stuff and it’s making your head all foggy. “I thought the two of you were… a thing. If not… sleeping together.”

Startled by your statement, he immediately begins denying it. “What? Oh, that. It’s just a rumor, you know. She spread it herself so that girls wouldn’t come after me.”

“So… what now?”

“Did you really mean it? That night. You were drunk, and I get that but you were drunk, so I didn’t know if you said it just to say it or if you actually… liked me.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks. That night wasn’t a blur, unfortunately, and you remember every bit and piece of it. From vomiting on the side of the street to his apartment floor, to him wiping your face down with a wet towel, all this after you threw yourself on him—every part of it, you can’t forget it. It practically haunts you every time you see him.

“Ugh,” you groan, face in your hands. “I was drunk, and too honest. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

He chuckles. “It was cute. If you didn’t tell me anything, I would’ve thought that you just wanted to sleep with me and nothing else.”

“Oh fuck, you remember that too?”

“You think I wouldn’t remember a girl that I liked trying to get in my pants? Of course I do. As much as I want that, I just don’t feel comfortable letting us go any further unless I know how you feel about me.”

This time, you do choke on your saliva.

“Are you okay?” He’s rubbing your back soothingly, and your heart skips a beat at the gesture. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been too bold, huh.”

You wave your hand dismissively. “No, no, it’s fine I just… didn’t expect that.”

“Expect that I saw you… more than just Yura’s friend?”

“Really just… anything. You just made it sound like you would sleep with me, and that you like me. But before that… I sort of felt like I was only Yura’s friend.”

He nods slowly, nails scraping against the leather of the steering wheel. The air in the car feels thick, almost suffocating because he’s tempted to say more, but he can’t. The feelings you have for him are reciprocated, which sounds like good news, but he truthfully wasn’t sure where to go about from here. The two of you could date, yes, but part of him feared that Yura wouldn’t be okay with it, and what happens if you both break up?

“I’m just worried, alright?” He admits solemnly, pools of chocolate orbs seeping with guilt. “I like you but I’m afraid of the consequences. There’s Yura—I never know what the hell is running through her mind, and then there’s my reputation—fuck. No, I didn’t mean that—”

“Drive me home, Yuta.” You state strictly, avoiding meeting his eyes. “Just… drive me home.”

“Wait, you know I didn’t mean it like that—“

“Yuta, your reputation precedes you, evidently. I don’t want it to dent it, so please, stop wasting my time and take me home.”

And with that, he turns to put his seatbelt back on quietly, starting the car once again and drives off to your house.

He doesn’t like the silence; he much prefers when you’re giggling and laughing with him, calling him cute ‘insulting’ nicknames, and making fun of his tastes in music. He likes hearing stories about your childhood, despite being part of it, those anecdotes never seem to have him as a character and he wonders why he distanced himself from you for so long.

You were great. You are great, but something in him continuously stops him from asking for more.

When Yuta reaches your house, he mutters another apology but you’ve already had your Walkmans on and headphones snug over your ears. The audio is put on the max volume, and you don’t hear what he says, but he hears your quick, “thanks for the ride,” before slamming the door and making your way in.

Yuta doesn’t know, but your heart aches more than that night Eunwoo ended things.

Yuta hates this.

If anything, he wished that there was a way to mend the situation. Instead of being further away from you, he was hoping to at least… become friends. But he told you that he liked you back, but used a stupid reasoning for why the two of you can’t be together. And well now… you’re mad.

Or well, he speculates you are, but from how you’re acting, you’re so good at pretending that nothing fazes you.

“What movie did you wanna watch, Yura?” You ask, hopping onto the couch opposite of Yuta. Eyes never meeting his, you lean over to grab a handful of popcorn, and he can’t help but feel this weird churning motion in the pit of his stomach. Popping a couple pieces of popcorn into your mouth, you crunch away, melting into the leather seats of the couch, legs crossed like a pretzel. “I heard you rented a couple options.”

“Mm, I think Yuta has it, let him show you,” she calls out from the kitchen, prepping the tray of drinks and more snacks.

That’s when your gazes lock.

It’s been a while since he’s been able to get a clear look at you; the last encounter had been weeks ago, and you were a professional when it came to avoiding him like the plague. He doesn’t live at home anymore, but when he’s here, he barely gets a glimpse of you before you’re already zooming out the door with Yura joined at the hip, ready for whatever adventure the two of you are on again.

But it feels good to have your attention away. Even though it was for a brief moment before you shrug, turning back to the TV and watching whatever it is on the antenna. “It’s fine. I can wait.”

“I can just show you,” Yuta says, disheartened that you rejected him so quickly. “They’re just right—“

“I’m good.” You respond, words hardened. You don’t even bat a lash in his proximity.

Yura comes back from the kitchen, a tray of food in her hands when she suddenly feels the tension in the atmosphere. Furrowing her brows, she places the snacks onto the table before resting her hands on her hips. “Alright, what’s up with the two of you? Talk. You guys never fight.”

“We’re not fighting,” you state plainly, reaching over to grab a chip but Yura smacks your hand. “Ouch!”

“I said talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about—“

“Yuta is being oddly quiet today.”

He blinks. He knows if he says anything, it’ll only anger you more, so he stays silent, reaching over to grab a glass of iced tea and lifting it in her direction. “Thanks for the snacks, sis.”

Yura swears she’ll get to the bottom of this.

“What’s up with you and Yuta?”

“Nothing is up with us.”

Yura’s nose twitches, halting her motions. She’s been cleaning the counter, trying her best to push out the grease stains that have found a permanent home there, and the frustration was building up along with the one she had for you and her brother. “There is obviously some tension between the two of you. What happened?”

You shrug. “Nothing.”

“Don’t ‘nothing’ me, I’ve known you both forever. There’s definitely something up. Why won’t you tell me?”

Retying your hair into a low bun, you can’t help but to tighten your lips into a straight line as you wipe down the condiment bottles. “Yura, I don’t know why you’re interrogating me on this. Shouldn’t you ask Yuta, if both parties are involved? So you claim.”

“Don’t be stupid,” she rolls her eyes, fed up with your dodging. “It’s easier to get through you than Yuta. He’s built like a wall.”

“I can be strong.”

“You are not strong when it comes to me, dummy. What’s up?”

She thinks you’re going to crack, but sadly for her, you’re not going to this time.

It’s sort of embarrassing, if you could, you’d admit that. Being turned down by a guy you’ve liked for years, and it wasn’t for the purpose that he didn’t reciprocate feelings, but rather because he simply just was ashamed to call you his girlfriend. And letting someone who you greatly respected and admired know this information is very… humiliating. You’ve had enough ignominious moments in the past few weeks, you could do without more.

Tossing the damp rag onto the booth, you heave a heavy sigh. “It’s nothing, alright? Yuta and I just aren’t really friends. We don’t click, so sometimes we’re just awkward. Why won’t you let this go?”

“Because, I want you to be my future sister-in-law. He likes you, and he won’t make a move unless you do. And I think you’re a perfect fit for him because he gets all giddy and excited when he sees you. Why don’t you believe me?”

Erase everything you said mentally just moments ago, because you end up blurting it all out like word vomit to Yura. Maybe she’s right. You might be a little bit easy. “Because!” You exclaim, flailing your arms in thwart. “He said he liked me, then mentioned how he’s so worried about what’ll happen if you find out, but he never took the initiative to ask you. After that, he accidentally said something about his reputation—you realize he’s embarrassed to be with me, Yura? He thinks I’m harmful to his reputation.”

Her gaze on your softens. “Babe—”

“No,” you retort sternly, despite her usage of a sweet term of endearment. It feels like deja vu, but you’re doing this to another Nakamoto sibling. “I’m not going to try to fix it or make it better. He said what he felt, and that’s just what it is.”

“He’s stupid, you know. You just have to talk to him.”

“It’s not my job to make him feel better about himself. If he feels like I am hindering the ‘coolness’ that is his reputation, then I don’t want to be with him either.”

With that, you turn on your heel and walk away from your best friend, as you did to her brother, and she doesn’t bother you for the rest of your shift.

However, the moment Yura gets off, she doesn’t hesitate to take the route to her brother’s place.

“Nakamoto Yuta, you fucking bitch, open the door!” She’s slamming on the front wooden door of the fraternity house, and someone not Yuta swings the door open and nearly gets punched in the face. “Great. Someone finally opened. Where’s Yuta?”

The male makes a face that’s a mixture of a grimace and fear. “Uh, are you a girl he’s seeing or something?”

Yura scowls. “No, you idiot. Yuta is my brother.” It doesn’t take long for the guy to slide out of her way and let Yura stomp up the stairs of the fraternity home, hollering out his name until the groggily, sleepy boy opens his bedroom door. Eyes bulging out, he recoils back into his bedroom when he sees his little sister storming in his direction.

“Nakamoto Yuta!”

“Jesus, Yura, what the fuck is wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” She exasperates, brows furrowing and eyes lit with a flame. “You rejected my best friend all for a reputation? I thought you liked her, you idiot! Why are you doing this to yourself? You’re ruining the best opportunity you have. You guys are literally perfect for each other—why are boys so dense?”

Perturbed, he tilts his head at her sudden intrusion. “Wh-What are you even saying?”

“Why’d you tell her that you couldn’t be together?”

He scratches his tousled bed head. “I… I thought you wouldn’t want us to date. And I was just thinking about what’ll happen if we broke up, and—“

“I highly doubt that. But go on.”

He sighs. “—And, I worried a little about getting into something serious. I’m barely making a name for myself here, and honestly, I’m worried that my group of friends won't be… accepting of her.”

“And? They wouldn’t be accepting of someone who is as nice and caring as her?”

“Well, when you put it that way—“

“Listen,” she says, mimicking the strictness of your own voice that night, and it nearly sends him back to that time in his car. “If you turn down this chance, you’ll never know. You’ll never know if she’ll be the one you end up with in the long run, you’ll never know if she’s your ‘the one.’ And what about your friends? What if this is good for you?”

“Good for me, how?”

“She makes you happy, Yuta. Is that bad of a reason?”

God, is this what teenage boys feel like when they’re about to confess to their crush? Hands perspiring and shaking, bouncing on the balls of his feet to soothe his nerves, and constantly double checking that everything is going according to plan—as if there’s anything to go by.

He’s decided that he’s going to concede, tell you that he was wrong and he wants to give this a shot.

But when he sees you standing outside of your house, bashfully pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear while giving some boy a pretty eye smile, he suddenly feels discouraged.

“It’s fine, Doyoung, really. Thanks for the ride!”

The guy grins cheekily back at her. Yuta recalls the face from the diner—he’s your coworker, oftentimes working on shifts with both you and Yura, but he didn’t seem to be a threat. But seeing as he’s on your porch right now, the feeling doesn’t sit very well in the pit of Yuta’s stomach.

However, he pushes aside any of his insecurities, and has one focus—you. Doyoung is already in his car as you wave goodbye, another quick ‘thanks’ before the boy drives off and realizes that Yuta is right in front of you.

“Oh. Yuta.” It’s short, he recognizes, unfamiliar to the other sweet greetings you’ve always given him.

“Let’s talk, please?” He’s practically begging, anxious out of his mind. If he doesn’t spill the beans on his emotions, he might actually blow up.

Truthfully, you didn’t want to let him in. But it’s the way he looks at you—orbs not swirling in semblance to cups of warm hot chocolate, but they’re rounded with hints of fear and anxiety, so you cave in and offer him a seat on your patio swing on the porch.

“What’s up?” You’re calm and he hates it. He can’t take a read on you, but your heart is palpitating like you’re about to jump off a cliff.

“I—“ this is way harder to execute than playing inside of his head. “I… realize I’m kind of stupid.”

“Mm, I know but I digress. Keep going.”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “I realize that ever since high school, I’ve always tried to fit in with the crowd I wanted to be. I had a certain look I wanted to go for—so I made it my priority to be that. Getting into college, it got worse and I pretty much diagnosed myself as a poser.”

Fiddling with the car keys in his hands, he finally leans back to melt into the seat when he’s comfortable. “I have this look to me. Sometimes, I seem cold hearted, disconnected, and oftentimes mean. It makes people want to be my friend—to get closer to me but realize they can only get to arm's length. But you, I don’t know how, managed to slip in between the cracks, but you might’ve already done that before I created this facade for myself.”

“What are you getting at here?”

His eyes meet yours. They meet yours, dreamily gazing into them like you’re the only one in the world. “I’ve always tried fitting in, but with you, I don’t feel like I have to. I feel like I can just be me.”

Was this a therapy session? What was the point of this conversation?

“Yura is okay with us. She’s the one that came to my place, causing a whole fuss,” he lets out a laugh for a brief moment, recalling the scene clearly, but comes back when he realizes he’s supposed to explain himself. “But uh… she mentioned that if I throw away this chance, there might never be a chance again. That if I spent my time worrying about my reputation, I might lose something more valuable to me than that.”

Swinging your legs off the seat, you sit in silence. If anything, it’s his turn to speak, expressing his feelings because it seems like he’s never been able to do it genuinely. Yuta spends so much time masking it, that you fear he lost himself along the way.

But knowing that you played a part in making him feel comfortable with being himself is… assuring. Because you never wanted to be the people that made Yuta feel like he needed to adjust himself so people would like him.

“If… you’d let me, I’d like a chance.”

It’s… honestly strange having Yuta like this, but in a good way.

He’s brought you on a trip… with his friends. Something completely unanticipated and out of character for him because that night in his car, he made it clear that he cared about his reputation too much to start a relationship. How could someone like him date his little sister’s best friend?

But then supposedly something snapped and now he’s… okay with it?

Well sort of. Or is he? It’s honestly hard to tell. First he says one thing, then the next, it’s another. You can’t read Nakamoto Yuta, even if you’re apparently his girlfriend.

You meet Jungwoo and actually get to hold a conversation with him other than a random quick exchange at the diner. He seems nice, always cheekily smiling like he’s got something to be happy about incessantly, and you admire that he has a reason to be. Then you meet Johnny (an old hook up of Nari’s) and he’s comical, worse when he’s with Jungwoo, and they both never fail to bring laughter upon the group.

There’s more friends that join, but overall, this was Taeyong’s, one of Yuta’s fraternity brothers, parents' beach house. It’s got three floors, close in proximity to the shoreline, enough bedrooms to house their entire friend group plus more, and feels like something you’d see on the cover of a magazine on the coffee table of your doctor’s office waiting room.

It’s so… nice seeing Yuta like this. He’s so happy, without much to fear about, visually appearing without any worries and it has that insecurity brewing inside of you because what did he mean about his reputation? And does he still feel that way? It hasn’t been long since that conversation, so you’d be lying if you said that what he said didn’t gnaw your insides with curiosity and uneasiness.

He’s handsome, manning the grill while his friends all stop by now and then, getting their plates stacked of food. You try your best to assist—handing over buns, raw patties, cheese—and you don’t miss the way he exchanges small talk with his friends so effortlessly. He’s great with conversation, and he knows how to be kind without forcing himself through a layer. But what did he mean that he could be himself when he’s around you?

“So, I know we had just dropped all of our stuff in the living room because we’re all fucking hungry,” Taeyong announces, attempting to grab everyone’s attention. “But let’s talk about room assignments.”

“I can room with any of the girls,” a girl beside the pretty Haeri offers, her name something along the lines of Hyerim. Her beauty is in comparison to her friend, although her personality is brighter than Haeri’s from what you observe.

Taeyong looks over at you. “Will you be okay with rooming with Hyerim?”

It couldn’t be too bad, right? Because even though Haeri seems displeased by your attendance, on the contrary, Hyerim is gleaming with excitement. “Sure, I mean—“

“No, it’s fine, Taeyong. We’re sharing a room together.”

Taeyong nearly chokes. You’re starting to pick up that maybe he’s mentioned he’s bringing a plus one, and when they saw it was his sister’s best friend, they didn’t think much of it. But sharing rooms? “Oh. Okay. I’ll give you guys the one room with the double beds—“

“We can just take the one bed one.”

Taeyong blinks. You can only imagine what’s running through his mind.

Yuta hands him a plate with a burger on it—patty, lettuce, mayo, beef and tomato—and grins. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my girlfriend room with other people?”

Why are you so anxious?

Should you be? Should you be prepared for something? You’ve never spent the night alone with Yuta before—unless you count that night you were wasted as hell, barely coherent and mind not even processing what was even happening. But you’re sober this time, and you’re processing everything. There’s no masking the nerves that’s running through your veins, and the expression on your face is living proof that you could never become an actress.

That night was a scheduled movie night. Taeyong had this whole thing planned; in the living room, there were bean bag chairs, not including the couches, and little cushions on the ground for people to sit cozily on. The windows and the patio slide door were open, letting in the breeze from the ocean kick in, the salty water aroma filling your nostrils, and you truly couldn’t even bask in the freshness of the sea because your senses were overwhelmed of all the thoughts of spending the night with Nakamota Yuta. Alone.

He steals a seat next to you on the couch, as expected but for some reason you’re surprised nonetheless (you think you’re accepting the idea of him being your boyfriend sink in). Yuta shoots over that signature smile of his, except this one has a hint of assurance in it, like he can sense your uneasiness but you only reciprocate an attempt of a smile back, and he can’t help but chuckle.

“What movie is this?” One of Yuta’s friends, Jaehyun asks, an arm over his girlfriend’s shoulder. He’s sitting comfortingly on the other side of Yuta, and there’s more than enough room for the four of you on this couch, but you can’t help but cling into the armrest for dear life.

“Clueless,” Taeyong answers, popping the disc into the DVD player.

Jungwoo raises a brow questioning. “That movie barely came out a while ago. How the fuck did you get it on DVD?”

“Bootleg, dumbass.”

Oh yeah, definitely this movie was bootleg. At the time, bootleg movies were just people sneaking in their camcorders, holding it up in the middle of a movie theatre; hands shaking, probably slipping on occasion from the sweat accumulating in their palms, and those were the things that they had control of. That’s not to mention the heads of the audience blocking the screen and the few that stand up in the midst of the goddamn movie to go to the concession stand or bathroom.

“Bro—another fucking bitch going to the bathroom?”

Hyerim slaps Jungwoo’s arm. “Language. Plus, she’s fucking pregnant. Don’t you see her stomach?”

He rolls his eyes. “You just cursed! And plus, don’t judge a book by its cover. What if she’s just fat?”

You let out a quiet snort; Jungwoo and Hyerim’s dynamic was amusing because they always had this push and pull thing going on. Yuta must’ve heard the snort though, because he turns to you with a soft laugh escaping from his chest at your reaction. “They’re always like that.”

“I can see,” your eyes don’t leave the two of them, who gently shove each other back and forth until Taeyong breaks them up. Snugly bringing the pillow on your lap closer, your purse your lips. “I like your friends. They’re fun.”

Yuta reaches for your hand, and your eyes widen slightly. “Good. I’m glad. I like having you around them too.”

You don’t notice the way Haeri stares intensely, blood practically boiling at the sight of him squeezing your hand warmly, eyes filled with hearts like you’re the only girl he sees.

And you are.

“Ugh, I don’t like the idea of it. It’s dark out.”

“Okay, but where’s the fun of just going to bed early?”

“It’s midnight!”

“Exactly! We’re on the same page!”

Toothbrush in his mouth, Taeyong stares at both Jungwoo and Hyerim curiously. “What’s up now? Why are the two of you fighting this time?” You linger in the back, resting against the doorframe of your designated bedroom, one you’re absolutely scared of fully stepping into although your bags are already in there.

Jungwoo turns to Taeyong. “Hear me out, hyung. We’re on a trip. Which means we should enjoy it.”

Taeyong nods. “Okay. I’m listening. Go on.”

“Let's go night swimming. In your pool. It’s the same thing as if we’re doing it in the day, except it’s at night! It’ll be fun, I swear. We can drink—” Hyerim is rolling her eyes, “—but I promise we’ll be responsible and—”

Taeyong shoves Jungwoo aside and runs his toothbrush under the water from the faucet before rinsing out his mouth. He turns to look at everyone before a mischievous smile tugs on the edges of his mouth. “Well, what are you guys just doing standing here? Spread the word. Cancel early bedtime. We’re going swimming in the pool.”

This is probably the worst part of the trip. At least, it’s looking that way for you.

For one, you knew you were going to the beach. But the thing is, you didn’t expect to swim, you were just hoping to enjoy the warmth of the sun on your lathered sunscreen skin, resting underneath the comforts of a beach umbrella with all its primary colors while sitting on a mat. So you didn’t pack a bathing suit for that purpose, hoping you could get away with the ‘oh, I forgot my bathing suit;’ excuse, and well, you did, but sitting at the edge of the pool with your legs hanging off the ledge, half submerged in water while watching the rest of the group play felt… excluding.

Wearing a bathing suit just wasn’t… pleasant. You’re unsure how other girls do it, because all you could think about is the skintight material hugging all the creavasses of your body and out for all people to see. But when you see Hyerim walking out behind Haeri, dressed all pretty in their two piece black bikinis, you’re starting to feel another type of insecurity gnawing at your insides. Jaehyun’s girlfriend follows after in a one-piece, seemingly uninterested in being here at all, so she quickly jumps into one of the empty beach chairs. You sorta didn’t even get a chance to learn her name because she didn’t seem like the socializing type (sort of like you… except she’s very cold.) So there was some ease in your anxiety knowing that it wasn’t just you that didn’t talk to the group.

Hyerim calls out your name, rushing over to your side with a pout. “Why aren’t you dressed!” She has her hands placed on her hips, shoulders slouched like she’s disappointed to see you in this attire.

“I… I don’t have a bikini,” you admit guiltily, although you’re not very apologetic about it in all honesty. The oversized band tee with black shorts were your choice of a sleeping outfit, so maybe they’ll catch the hint that you really didn’t want to join in their activities. “So… figured I’d at least join the fun by hanging out on the sidelines.”

Hyerim pouts in return, shaking her head. “I have a spare one.”

“I’d rather not,” you frown, slouching to mimic her position. “You need that one for tomorrow. I’ll be fine. Plus, I don’t think… I can fit…” you don’t want to say you’ve been checking her out but jesus, she’s got huge tatas. There’s absolutely no way you could fit in her bikini. You’re not fully paying attention, but you take note of the way Haeri glares in your direction. She definitely does not like you.

Yuta leaves the house with the guys, all excited to hop into the pool and you catch him bantering with another one of the boys. And to be quite frank, the boys all look great.

You swallow.

Cause well, Yuta… looks even… greater?

When he walks out of the house, he looks like those hot guys in those coming-of-age teenage/college movies where the dreamy guy moves in slow motion. The way his hair lusciously flows through the slight ocean breeze, the way his teeth are so pearly white, exposed by his wide smile, and don’t even get yourself started on his hearty, deep laugh.

Geez. Was he really your boyfriend?

It sort of feels like he shouldn’t be.

Part of you starts to grow self-conscious; there’s all these pretty girls here, confident enough to strut around in a bikini, flat tummies and tiny waists, then there’s Yuta himself—handsome, built, and an outgoing personality, he’s like the embodiment of what a perfect guy is. And just as you felt the day he got his dream car for the first time, Yuta is suddenly out of reach once again.

“Hey,” he says, finally reaching to you at the end of the pool where you’ve found comfort in the lounge chair. When you assume he’ll forget you, he doesn’t. And while your brain is full of possible scenarios of not being good enough for him, Yuta’s head is spilling past the brim with ways of calling you a term of endearment without it being too weird. “No swimsuit?”

“Yeah, I think… I’ll just sit out,” you shrug, arms in between the space between your thighs. Just before you could whip up any more negative thoughts, Yuta leans over and places a gentle kiss on the crown of your head.

“Well, you look beautiful nonetheless. Come join us in the water if you’d like. I have a spare shirt for you to sleep in if you decide to swim with that one.”

You swore your heart skipped a beat.

Have you ever looked at someone and the air from your lungs is vacuumed out almost instantaneously? Heart palpitating, palms perspiring, and when you’d speak to them, you’re stuttering over your words like some drunken idiot, but really you’re just so nervous you can barely make any sense.

Well, imagine that. Instead, you’re just not just looking at them, but they’re your significant other and somehow you’re in a bedroom with them.

Yuta’s in an oddly tight fitting grey t-shirt and some basketball shorts as he flips the covers open, sneaking a glance up at you. “Are you okay? Do you wanna take the bed and I take the floor? You seem uncomfortable.”

Is it hot in here? Because you could feel the heat radiating from your body and it worsens when he asks that.

“Uh, yeah yeah. I’m, uh. I’m good.” Yuta’s stare turns into a dubious one. “Yeah.”

“You said ‘yeah’ three times.”

“Did I?”

He drops the duvet onto the mattress. “What’s up? Talk to me. Why are you so nervous about us spending the night together? Should I have asked Taeyong to put you with Hyerim, because if that’s the case, I’m really sorry I assumed and—“

“I—Don’t apologize,” you interrupt, guilt beginning to seep through your expression. “It’s not your fault. I’m just… kind of nervous.”

Yuta looks at you like you’ve got food smeared on your face. “Nervous about what?”

“Sharing a bed with you.”

“Baby,” shit, is he using couple nicknames now? Because you’re not ready for it. You swore this was just a crush a week ago, and now he’s standing over a bed you’re supposed to share together and he’s your boyfriend. “We don’t have to sleep in the same bed if you’re uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to—“

“We don’t have to—“

“Yuta,” the way his name escapes from the tip of your tongue is stern, and hard, and he blinks blankly without a word. “I want this. I’m just nervous is all. I’ve never stayed a night with a guy before, and you did tell me if I was going to try something new… let it be with you, right?”

He stays silent for a moment before rubbing his hands onto the fabric of his shorts. “Since you’re being honest, I should too. I’m… also kind of nervous,” he lets out a chuckle, shaking his head afterwards. “I shouldn’t tell you about my experiences with other girls, but you’re not the first person I’ve spent the night with but you’re the first one that has my stomach doing weird things because I’m nervous.”

You furrow your brows. “You? Nervous?” Head tilting to the side, confusion is spread across your face. “Why?”

“Well, I guess because those girls didn’t mean much. But I like you, so…”

Now you’re the one left puzzled.

“I know you think I’m the cool older brother who’s got everything figured out. But really, I’m just a guy with this crush on you and never acted on it,” he rubs his nape, before continuing, “Stop seeing me as your best friend’s older brother and start seeing me as your boyfriend, yeah?”

Maybe that’s been your problem since the start of the relationship—you’ve only been seeing Yuta as not just Yuta, but Nakamoto Yuta, Yura’s brother who’s always been seemingly hard to obtain, one you never thought you’d ever get the chance to date, the one you believed you wouldn’t ever get to experience what it’s like to be loved by him.

And yet, you stand before him with all of these opportunities but you’re so caught up in your own head that it still can't be happening and you are ruining it for yourself.

“What about me?”

It’s like there’s this imaginary ball of perplexity that’s getting passed back and forth. “What do you mean?” He shoots back.

“I’m your little sister’s best friend. You didn’t want to be together in the first place because it was bad for your reputation. I should be the one worrying about how you see me.”

He scoffs in disbelief. “Honestly? I stopped thinking of you as Yura’s friend ever since you showed up with Eunwoo, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

Mouth slightly agape, you’re speechless. That’s when Yuta realized his feelings?

“But that’s only when I realized it. I’d probably been harboring all of that since even before that. So if you’re worried about me seeing you in that way, don’t.”

“Then what about your rep—“

Yuta sighs heavily, but he knows that he’s going to have to confront his mistakes. He remembers what he said that night vividly—how could he not? He basically made it sound like he was embarrassed to be seen with a girl he’s been head over heels for. “I meant… yes, you, but I wasn’t ashamed that I was dating my sister’s best friend. I was… god, you know I’ve always tried hard to fit in while growing up. And part of me just wanted to impress my friends and this persona I kept up of being single, of being unattainable—I liked it. But I didn’t like the thought of not being with you because of some stupid label.”

“… Oh.”

“Oh?” He poured his heart out and all you could say was ‘oh’?

“This… this whole time, I thought it was me.”

Yuta walks over to your side, and reaches over for his hands to cup your cheeks. His chocolate colored orbs aren’t just filled with sweetness, there’s so much love saturated in them that your heart could practically feel it emanating. “It’s definitely not you. Why do you think Haeri keeps looking at you like that despite my constant telling her to stop? Because she’s been chasing me for years and one day, I pull up with a girl that she’s never met before.”

That would explain those dagger stares.

“I just needed to grow up,” Yuta confesses, planting a kiss on your forehead. “And I hate that I broke your heart and my sister had to flip shit for me to learn that, but I needed it to happen. Nonetheless, I’m glad for it because now I have you.”

You swallow. Now that you know the truth behind it all, the next words you say are chosen carefully after some thought.

“I want to sleep in the same bed tonight.”

our first night.

Why the fuck did you announce that like some politician at a podium? It was too proper—and for what?

It’s even more appalling when you’re laying on top of the covers, body stiff and straight while basically six feet away from Yuta. He’s comfortably underneath the duvet, pillow propped up against the bed frame while he shuffles through the channels of the bulky TV that sits on the roller carts. “Wanna watch something?”

“Uh, sure.” Thump, thump, thump. Was that your heartbeat? Why’s it going so fast? “W-What did you have in mind?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Friends, maybe? Don’t you and Yura watch that?”

“Uh, sometimes.”

Yuta flickers the TV to the channel, and it showcases Jennifer Aniston wagging that erotic novel in front of Joey and you recall watching it with Yura in the comforts of her bedroom, snuggled with a pillow and a drink in hand.

Oddly enough, you’re with her brother instead.

“You’re still awkward,” he points out obviously, as if everyone in the world couldn’t identify how weird you were around him. You’re starting to pick up on how much worse it is when it’s just the two of you. “Loosen up, will you? I’m still the same guy. I’m just… your boyfriend now.”

“Yeah but… gah,” you groan, turning to hide your face in your pillow. “Kind of hard to accept all of this, especially when there’s girls like Haeri that are hardcore crushing you. She’s so in your league and I’m so… not.”

“What? We’re still on this?”

“We never left it,” you frown, but he can’t see it. You’re being such a whiner right now but it doesn’t seem to faze him. “Why’d you choose me?”

“Because you’re smart, pretty, and kind.”

“Yeah, but Haeri is hot. I couldn’t even wear a bikini to the pool outing today. That’s so embarrassing.”

“So what? I thought you were hot.”

You freeze. Like those frozen dinners in the refrigerator aisle in the supermarkets. “What?”

“You really don’t know? You had a baggy shirt on—although I did wish it was mine you were wearing, I was hoping you’d actually swim so I could lend you one to bed. Then you have those shorts on, exposing your legs out to everyone and—“

You turn over. “Hyerim and Haeri were wearing bikinis.”

Yuta shrugs. “And? I still found you attractive. Just because you’re not wearing a bikini doesn’t make you any less sexy than they are.”

Truthfully, you’re not a bold person. When some kid shoved you in the playground at school, you let them and stayed on the ground with cuts and bruises all over your legs. Then, in middle school, when a famous actress came to visit your classroom, you didn’t have the courage to ask her all these questions you stayed up formulating the night before. In high school, these pink neon leg warmers were all the trend, but you were too shy to wear them while Yura flaunted them off like they were the best things she's ever seen.

But for some reason tonight, you shattered that old version of yourself because you straddle Yuta’s legs, his cheeks are in the palm of your hands, and your lips crashed into his. You needed to confirm this. To make sure that everything right now is a reality and wasn’t some type of fucked up dream you were going to wake up from then become disappointed.

When you pull away, you take note of how his eyes are darkened. Skin flushed, lips swollen, his chest heaves up and down as he swallows, eyes never leaving yours. There’s nothing but soft pants that escape from his lips, and that hooded look he gives you has your stomach churning incessantly.

“Sorry,” you mutter bashfully, as if you didn’t just dauntlessly force him into a kiss. “I just… wanted to see if this moment was real.”

His hands find purchase at your exposed thighs, rubbing them soothingly. “Do you… want to do it again just to confirm it?”

Of course. Always. From that kiss alone, it doesn’t feel like fireworks fly like they express in those romance movies or in those teen romance novels, but it feels like… it clicks. When two things are put together that are meant to be side by side, it works. And Yuta is that for you.

Nodding diffidently, he leans forward to connect the two of you again. His lips are soft, supple, and tastes sweet with a mixture of mint from the toothpaste he used to brush earlier before bed. He smells like fresh laundry up close, like clean linens, and when the kiss deepens with your fingers lacing through his lengthened locks, you’re suddenly intoxicated by everything about him. He makes you woozy, lost in him, and before you could even take a breath, your hips accidentally buck into the bulge suffocating in his shorts.

Yuta is first to break the kiss. “Are you okay? Is this okay? We don’t have to go any further if you’d like. I want you to be comfortable.”

“And dry hump like a bunch of horny teenagers?”

He laughs, so hearty and from his chest. “Yes, like horny teenagers. I don’t mind it. Want you to be alright with it.”

You roll your lips, tapping your fingers against his shoulders in thought. You hear the laugh track in the back from whatever episode of Friends is playing, but all you’re focused on is that sparkle in his eyes, and you know how genuine he is when he says those words.

“I’m okay with more,” you confidently say. “I… I wanna do it.”

“Are you sure?” You nod again in confirmation. “Okay, but… just tell me if you want to stop. Don’t think about me—say stop and I’ll have my hands off right away.”

Of course. You shouldn’t expect less from Nakamoto Yuta.

He’s perfect yet flawed at the same time, and it makes him human. Overall great brother, but he gets on his sister’s last nerves sometimes. He’ll fight with his parents, but at the end of the day, they make up. He messed up with you at first, but he’s doing his best to show you that he could be better. And trying is truly all you could ask for.

Laying you down gently on the bed, he makes sure that the pillow is underneath your head; touch delicate and constantly reassuring, Yuta never fails to verify your well-being.

“Do you want me to eat you out?”

You choke at the boldness of his question. “W-What?”

He chuckles, pushing a couple of strands of your hair away from your face. “Eating you out. If you’re still weird about it, I can just do something else instead to prep you.” Your silence pretty much answers his question and he presses a gentle kiss on your nose. “Can I?” He asks, gesturing to your pants with a tug on the hem.

“Y-Yeah,” you respond meekly, wishing you could slap yourself in the face right now because you sound like a bitch. You’re literally underneath Yuta right now and you can’t even get yourself together straight. “You can um. You can take it off.”

He slides your black shorts down your legs, and he gives you that look for permission before you nod again in consent.

It feels so strange to be naked from the bottom half in front of him.

Albeit it’s like he reads your mind because he quickly tosses off his own shorts off the bed before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “Bear with me, alright? I wanna stretch you out first.”

He lifts the end of your loose t-shirt up, legs on either side of him and before he proceeds with anything else, he distracts your thoughts by planting delicate kisses onto the skin of your neck. They’re innocent and soft at first, that is until he starts to nip and suck at the skin, reaching up behind your ear that earns a gasp from you.

Jackpot.

He finds your sweet spot, and with that, his fingers dip in between your folds, and he lets out a faint moan when he feels how wet you are just from making out and his ego inflates. It’s a foreign feeling, you admit, because you’re used to your own fingers but his are different—long and thick, it does a lot better than yours do.

The more he thrusts, your hips eventually give in and move to the motion. Your juices coat him, squelching sounds are heard from down there and it has heat growing in your cheeks. And before you could even halt him in embarrassment, his thumb finds your clit, swirling and massaging the nub that has you sharply drawing in a breath. You could feel a smirk on his lips on your neck.

“Feels good?”

“Y-yeah,” you manage to let out, clenching your eyes shut. This is by far way better than being by yourself in your bedroom.

It doesn’t take long for you to cum.

Your hand grasps onto his biceps—which, by the way, he’s not the bulkiest guy but god, he’s been definitely hitting the gym. Blunt nails dug into his skin, he doesn’t seem to quite mind it, in fact, he observes the expression on your face in content as yours contort under pleasure.

When you’ve finally calmed from your high, you’re still panting, flushed from his touch and that’s when you notice how hard he is in his briefs. “Would you… do you want…”

He shakes his head, hands on either side of your head. “Maybe next time. I want you to feel good.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he mimics, a pretty smile on his mouth. “Would you like to continue or would you rather stop here?”

“I—“ you’re still so timid and hesitant when you talk to him, even though he definitely had his fingers up your pussy less than thirty seconds ago. “Let’s keep going.”

“Are you sure?” Concern is washed over him, but you’re sure with your decision. “We can’t go back after this. I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, it takes a bit of courage to finally speak up. “I have one request.”

“Anything.”

“Can I… keep my shirt on?” He complies, as expected, because your comfort comes first. Seconds later, his shirt is off and he’s struggling to slide off his boxer briefs, and you’re growing nervous. But at that very moment, his gaze meets yours and your eyes melt into his. There’s assurance in those pools of chocolate, like he reads through you like you’re pages of a book opened for him. Just then, he leans forward to press a kiss on your lips gingerly, and you inhale in a deep breath.

“Remember. Tell me if you want to stop.”

Yuta reaches over to the drawer of the dresser by the bedside table, and there you spot three boxes of condoms, different sizes and brands. Before you could even say anything, he’s already quick to explain. “Taeyong just expects we’re all fucking or something, so he’s prepared for every scenario. This is in every room.”

“Every room?” You reiterate in disbelief and Yuta lets out a laugh.

“Yeah. Weird, but better safe than sorry.”

When he finally slips out of his boxers, your heart begins to race. He’s hard and heavy, tip red with beads of pre-cum like he’s been holding himself back the entire time and you give him props for staying so relaxed the entire time even though you’re panicking with every move he makes. He tears the condom packet with his teeth, careful to avoid the rubber itself before sliding it down his length, and the sight causes you to swallow.

Then, he gives you that one last look. “Okay?”

You roll your lips. “Okay.”

“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable,” he says once again, the head of his cock slowly pushing into you.

Truthfully, this isn’t the first time you’ve had sex. You’ve had other partners before—Eunwoo being your first, but in the general gist of it all, Yuta isn’t the first guy you’ve slept with. But… something about him makes you lose the confidence you inhabit in the bedroom, something about him makes you feel like you’ve got this little crush and it leaves you sheepish each time.

Fingers clenching onto his shoulders, you bite down on your bottom lip. It’s been a while since you’ve been sexually active, and you realize Yuta notices this when his eyes clenched shut, doing his best to hold back because you feel so good with him snug in you.

With a light squeeze on his arm, he takes the sign of approval then begins thrusting into you slowly.

He’s so handsome like this—skin flushed punk, mouth agape with his brows furrowed in concentration; he’s not the most built guy you’ve ever seen, but he’s perfect like this, perfect enough for you.

Lowering himself down, his forehead hits yours and his nose nudges against yours affectionately, and that’s when he lifts your leg up a bit, and the new angle earns a moan from your swollen kissed lips. Pleased, he hooks your leg over his arm, shoving you up further that your knees are pressed against your chest, you’re dizzy off his scent, completely smitten that he’s this close.

“Good?” He queries, thrusting hastily in comparison to his slowing pace before, and he’s constantly hitting that sweet spot.

“G-Good,” you respond breathily, a wince following afterwards. He feels good like this, so full, so intimate, but you could see in his eyes that it’s taking all of him to not ram into incessantly. “But go at your own pace, you don’t have to be slow for me.”

“Maybe next time,” it’s warm, the way he says it, like there are more times to come and this is just the first. “For now, I wanna show you my love for you.”

Yuta does exactly that. He shows you he loves you that night—letting you finish again before he does, and right after, he rushes to the bathroom to come back minutes later with a towel to clean you up. He peppers kisses along your exposed thighs, muttering something about how he wants a taste next time, but he refrains and continues to give you time to warm up.

That daydream of you being loved by him is suddenly not a dream anymore.

second meetings.

“Yuta is bringing a girlfriend home for dinner,” Yura’s mom announces, adding the finishing touches to the dishes in the kitchen. There’s an array of banchan and an assortment of main courses, and it’s pretty much a guarantee that nobody is going to clear out their plates with this abundance of food. She’s got on that cute pink apron with a bear peeking out the stomach pocket that you got for her about four Christmases ago, a smile plastered on her face, restless about meeting this ‘new girl.’ Yura is groggily setting up the dining table per request from her mother, an extra spot ready for ‘Yuta’s new girlfriend.’

“So I’ve heard,” she responds back, stepping back after she puts down the last set of forks. This should be good enough, she thinks to herself. After all, she knows who he’s bringing home, and you don’t need much impressing from what you’ve seen already. “You’ll like her.”

Her mom rolls her eyes, wagging a spatula at her daughter. “Don’t make jokes, Yura, I don’t like that.”

“Well, I’m serious!”

Walking to the dinner table, her mother scowls at the amount of plates laid out. “What’s wrong with you? You’re not going to place a spot for your best friend? Geez, Nakamoto Yura, you don’t think—“

“Hey mom,” Yuta peeks in, dressed cutely in a black t-shirt and baby blue jeans. Even in the most casual clothes he’s breathtaking, and you have to thank your past self for doing whatever it was to get a guy like him. “I uh, wanna introduce you to my girlfriend.”

His mom’s face switches from annoyance to excitement, shoving Yura out the way gently and playfully. “Just in time! I was telling Yura how stupid she was for not setting a place for her own best friend and—“

That’s when she pauses. The moment she sees you coming from behind Yuta, his fingers interlocked with yours, her heart clenches. She’d been so loving and caring towards you for as long as you’ve known Yura, being almost like a second mother, and finally becoming official with Yuta made you slightly fear that she’d feel otherwise because you’re not her baby girl’s best friend anymore, you’re her precious baby boy’s girlfriend.

But you didn’t need to worry because a grin stretches from ear to ear, arms wide open for you to run into. “Finally,” she says, letting out a heavy breath that feels like she’s been holding in for years as she wraps you in her embrace. It’s a sigh of relief if you’ve ever heard of one. “I’ve been waiting for one of you to realize that this works.”

#neosmutcollective #yuta #yuta smut #yuta x reader #nct smut #nct x reader #nct 127 #nct127 #nct fanfic #yuta fanfic #yuta nakamoto x reader #nct yuta nakamoto #yuta nct #nct yuta #idk what to tag anymore i give up #gyukultfics

[messers-moony]

So Perfect 2 | J.P

Paring: Young!James Potter X Fem!Lupin!Reader

Summary: James falls in love with a bookstore called, Lupin’s Library, and can’t believe what they’re going through. 

Preparing for a date seemed easy enough, except when it’s with a twenty-five-year-old man that already has a child. Granted, the twenty-five-year-old man was handsome, very handsome; maybe that’s what made this so hard. Every dress that she tried on didn’t seem to fit or didn’t seem to look right. 

Y/n was looking at her appearance in the mirror when a light knock was heard on her door, “Come in!”

Remus almost dropped the tea he was holding for her, “You look spiffing.”

“Spiffing?” Y/n crossed her arms with a stupid smile, “That’s all you could come up with?”

“Dashing, beautiful, gorgeous?” Remus shrugged, “I'm not good at this whole thing. ‘S why I’m into blokes, remember?”

Y/n hummed, reaching for the tea he was holding for her, “Thanks, Remmy.”

“No problem.” He replied, taking a seat on her twin bed, “So, are you excited?”

“Nervous.”

“Nervous?”

“Yeah, I mean, he’s already got a child, Rem!” Y/n said exasperated, “If this goes well, then he’ll expect me to be Harry’s stepmother, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

Remus placed two hands on his shorter sister's shoulders, “You’re going to be fine. No one is more prepared for that than you are.”

“I’m regretting this.”

“If you don’t go on this date, then I’ll never call Sirius.” 

“That’s not fair!”

“It is.” Remus replied, “How about this-”

“Oh no, you only do this when you know you’ll win.” She murmured. 

Remus smirked, “If you go on this date and have fun, I’ll ask Sirius out. If you don’t go on this date at all, I’ll block his number.”

“But you and Sirius are perfect for each other.” Y/n whined, “And so are you and James.” Remus countered. 

Y/n pouted, and Remus smiled, “Now go have fun on this date. James is waiting outside.”

“Are you shitting me?!” 

Remus laughed, “Nope!”

Y/n scrambled to grab her things, and Remus watched amusedly, “You’re the worst, Rem!” She yelled as she began to leave the bookstore. 

“Love you too, sis!”

The door closed behind her, and she was releasing breaths of air. James turned to see her out of breath and a flush on her cheeks. It made him smile. She looked absolutely breathtaking too. Y/n’s hair was styled, and her dress looked dashing on her. James offered her his hand, and Y/n took it with a gentle smile. 

“Sorry for making you wait.” Y/n apologized, “Rem was no help.”

James chuckled, “It’s fine.”

James opened the car door for her, and she got in. Instantly she felt out of place. Y/n hadn’t been in a car since high school and ever since then had taken public transportation or walked. She and Remus didn’t have money for a vehicle, so they made do with what they had. The seats were black leather, and the car didn’t have a spec of dirt on it. 

He got into the driver's side of the car smoothly and took notice of Y/n’s awestruck expression, “I take it you like my car?”

“I’m sorry.” Her expression turned sheepish, “It’s been a minute since I’ve been in a car.”

James quirked an eyebrow, “Remus and I walk or ride buses to get by.”

“Well, I’m glad I could be with you for your first experience back.” They both laughed. 

It was so easy with James. Conversation flowed like water, and the air was light like clouds. His hand went from the shift to intertwine his fingers with hers. Y/n’s face flushed, and James smiled genuinely. James couldn’t remember a time when a girl made his heart race and butterflies fill his stomach like this before. 

When they arrived, Y/n was starstruck. It was fancier than she thought. Her heart pounded, and insecurity filled her body. James made his way to her side of the car and opening the door for her again. He helped her out of the car and felt her hand tremble just the slightest bit. 

“You look beautiful.” James assured, “No need to be worried.”

Y/n swallowed thickly, “Hey,” James turned her face to his, “If I thought you were underdressed, I would’ve told you. You’re gorgeous, and I think you’ll be the prettiest girl in the room.”

“Thank you.”

He gave her another one of those beautiful smiles before walking up to the hostess, “Name?”

“Should be under Potter.”

The hostess smiled, “Right this way.”

James motioned for Y/n to go first, so she followed the hostess to the table. Y/n sat down, and James sat across from her as the woman set down two menus. Maybe it was a force of habit, but she couldn’t help but let her eyes travel to everything around her. 

He smiled, slightly amused by her way of checking everything around her. It wasn’t the fanciest place that he could’ve taken her - there was much better - but he didn’t want to overwhelm her. It wasn’t pitying that drew him toward her, though. There was something about her that made him feel like a teenager again. 

The place was made of what appeared to be a dark wooden material. The lights were a dim yellow, and the tables were polished beautifully. The booths were comfy and with red cushioning. The atmosphere was cooling and dry. 

Y/n had opened her menu and began to survey it, “Pick whatever you want.” 

“Are you sure?” Y/n asked, “I really don’t mind-“

“This is a date.” James reminded as he held her hands from across the table, “Let me treat you so well that you a second date.”

Y/n blushed, “You’ve already done that.” 

“I have?”

“Shut up.”

James chuckled, kissing her knuckles, “Whatever you want, love.”

Half of the food on the menu Y/n hadn’t even heard of. Granted, she and Remus never really ate out much as kids. Usually, their mother - Hope - would cook them dinner as their father - Lyall - got home from work. Dinner was generally around seven-thirty or eight o’clock. 

The dinner went by gracefully, with lots of banter and getting to know each other. It wasn’t until the end of the date where James had paid despite Y/n’s efforts, and they got into the car where he had asked the dreadful question. They both sat in the parking spot when James had turned to her. 

“How do you feel about children?” James asked and quickly added, “I know that you’re good with them because of the reading on Saturdays but, I mean, about having children?”

Y/n wrung her hands, “I never really thought about it.”

“Why?”

“I have two jobs and a sick brother to take care of.”

Y/n replied, “Kids don’t really fit in. I’d also have to have a significant other to have children. Which I don’t have.”

James nodded, “Okay, but if you were to have a significant other.”

“I mean, I’d like to.” Y/n shrugged, “My life is just hectic right now. Bringing a child into this life wouldn’t be fair.”

Okay, so this isn’t going anywhere, James thought; I need to be blunt, “How would you feel about being Harry’s stepmother?”

She swallowed, “James….”

“I know that’s a hard thing to answer right now. Especially with us just getting started.” James added, “But if you aren’t interested, then this isn’t worth starting.”

“No, I know and understand.” Y/n said, fidgeting with her hands in her lap, “I’m sure it’s hard to find someone, you know, already having a kid and all.”

James nodded. 

“I’d love to be Harry’s stepmother.” Y/n replied as James’ face lit up, “But I still have the bookstore, the bar, and Remus to take care of as well. It’ll be stressful.” 

“I’m not asking you to be a stay-at-home mother.” James chuckled, “I’m just asking that at the end of the day, you come home to us.”

“And hopefully,” James smiled sheepishly, “Sirius can knock Remus off your list.”

Y/n chuckled, “Hopefully. Remus is a handful.”

“He seems nice.” 

She snorted, “Until you officially meet him.”

“Well then,” James smiled, taking her hand in his as he began moving the car, “Looks like we’ll be having double dates.”

Y/n squeezed his hand as he began to drive. The car drove effortlessly over the unpaved roads. Light music played in the background. The sky was a beautiful blue littered with sparkling white specks. The moon was crescent and barely a sliver. James had gotten to a stoplight when he spoke up again. 

“My house or yours?”

“Whichever.” 

James smiled and turned the wheel to the left, “Okay.”

It didn’t take long to realize that they were going to his house. His neighborhood was much different than hers. Granted, she lived on top of a bookshop, but it was still different. James lived in the suburbs. The houses were breathtaking, and the streets looked clean. Asphalt roads were freshly paved, and sidewalks looked new. The homes were family-sized, but they looked ginormous compared to her and Remus’ studio apartment only suited for one. 

James pulled into the driveway, and Y/n was flabbergasted. It was a two-story house, mostly white concrete, and the accents were a dark brown color. The grass was freshly cut, and the vegetation was trimmed. The backyard appeared to have a pool and a patio area, but Y/n could barely tell over the solid fence. 

His keys jingled as he placed the key into the slot and the door opened with ease. Gently, he motioned her to go first. The floors were dark oak wood, seemingly similar to the dark paint on the accents of the house. Everything was so clean, exactly like the car, not a spec of dust laid on the surfaces. 

A movie was playing on the television in the room on the right. The kitchen was on the left, and the sitting table was in the room beside it. James shut the door behind him, locking it. He took off his coat and shoes, placing them at the front door. He smiled. 

“I take it you like the house?”

“It’s beautiful.”

James smiled, walking to the kitchen, and Y/n took off her shoes before following him. He sighed when he opened the fridge, and Y/n had taken a seat at the barstool in front of the island. James picked up an empty bottle of wine that was still residing in the fridge. 

“You keep empty bottles of wine in the fridge?” Y/n questioned as James rubbed his face with his hands. 

“No. Bad habit of Sirius’.”

Y/n quirked an eyebrow, “He lives here?”

“He acts as he does.” James muttered as he recycled the empty bottle, “But no, Sirius lives a couple of doors down. But I feel like he should be paying rent here.”

Y/n laughed, “Regardless, I’ve known him since elementary school, so he’s like my brother. Harry calls him uncle and everything.”

“That’s adorable.” Y/n said, “Do you have any actual siblings?”

“Nope. Jus’ me.” He answered, motioning to himself, “Sirius has a younger brother named Regulus.”

“His parents obsessed with constellations or something?”

“Supposedly.”

“Where is Harry now?” 

“With Sirius.” James replied, taking out a full bottle of wine, “Told him I might get him tonight or might not.”

Y/n took the glass of wine he offered her with a smile, “Mind if I ask why the tv was left on?”

“My cat.”

“Cat?”

“Technically, not mine.” James explained, “It’s my ex-fiancées, but she left him here, so he’s mine now.”

“And your cat likes the tv?”

James nodded, “What's his name?”

“Moony.”

“Moony?”

“Yeah. Harry named him actually.”

Y/n smiled. They continued to talk, and the night kept going on by. It was well past midnight when James drove her back home to her shared apartment. The car ride was silent, primarily with music playing lightly in the background once again. He walked her to the door of the bookstore before bidding her goodnight. 

Gently James pressed his lips to her forehead, “Goodnight, get some sleep.”

“You too…” Y/n muttered, blushing as she walked into the bookstore. 

She hadn’t even made it up the steps when Remus began talking, “Had a good night, I presume?”

“You’re a dick, ya know?”

He smirked and closed his book with a thud, “Runs in the family.”

Y/n gasped playfully, “You ass!”

Remus chuckled as they both walked up the steps, “Seriously though, good night?”

“Yeah, really good night.”

#James x you #James x y/n #James x reader #James Potter x you #James Potter x reader #James Potter x y/n #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #sirius black #brother remus lupin #marauders #marauders imagine #marauders fluff #marauders x reader #marauder #muggle au #harry potter #child harry potter #lily evans #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine