Don’t Delete The Kisses ｡ﾟ🎶 ⋆₊

itoshi sae has no idea how you do it.

classwork, homework, midterms, exams, two jobs, and a lively group of friends? it all sounds so unnecessary to him, these things that would be distractions from his dream. but for you, it sustains you and encourages you to keep going. how differently our minds work, he thinks to himself when he has a rare day to spend on your couch and you're typing away at some assignment on your laptop.

"why do you do that?" you don't respond the first time he asks and he gently calls your name, even though you're barely three feet away. you turn to him with a tired look and something pangs inside his chest. "why bother doing that?"

"bother doing what?"

"whatever it is you're doing right now." he nods at your glaring laptop screen filled with words he can't even begin to understand, some final before your university goes on winter break.

"because it's part of my degree?" there's no malice in your words, just genuine confusion, just like there's no accusations in his words, just concern. "if i fail this class, i don't graduate."

"why do you need to graduate, or have a degree in the first place?"

"because i need a job, my love," you explain patiently. "we've had this conversation before. going to school means i can get a well-paying job to sustain myself."

"why do you need to sustain yourself when you have me?" you blink at him and his blank face. the only sign of emotion is the slight pinch between his eyebrows; he was truly puzzled why he couldn't just set you up for life. dating itoshi sae is like being an unwilling sugar baby.

"i'm not going to leech off your earnings," you chuckle in disbelief. "i'm not going to use you to make sure i have a comfortable life. i love you, and my kind of love stays whether we have money or not." he shifts awkwardly in his seat and his mouth pouts the tiniest amount. he obviously didn't like your reply.

"whatever i'm doing, it isn't enough for you," he states quietly.

without another word, you exhale through your nose and shut your laptop. you place it on the coffee table before crawling over and maneuvering your way into his arms. he gladly accepts you, sliding down the couch's armrest so that you're nearly lying on top of him. it's quiet for a few moments, not in an uncertain way but in a way that said both of you were figuring out how to articulate your thoughts.

"i just think that--"

"you don't need to--" you both begin your explanations at the same time and the huff of his laugh vibrates against your cheek. "you go first," you tell him.

"i was saying that, if you wanted me to," he inhales and tries to tiptoe around what he wants to say before deciding to just crush it with his foot, "i can take care of you without you needing a degree." a certain selfish part of him wanted you there for every single victory and ladder rung he ascended, not because he thought you owed him, but because he owed you. you, who weathered his darkest of moods and harshest of snaps. he owed you for dealing with his bullshit, so he figured, why should you need to lift a finger when you've already done so much for him? "i owe you that much for everything that you've seen me through."

"you don't owe me anything, itoshi sae. loving you is not transactional, nor have i ever wanted it to be."

"everything is transactional, mi amor," he argues and the pet name makes your heartrate increase. "give and take, it's how the world flows. shouldn't your university classes be teaching you that?" your eyes have fluttered shut on his chest, but you still hear the smirk in his joke.

"believe it or not, mister 'fame is the only thing that matters to me,' there are transactions beyond material goods."

"i know that," he says indignantly. "i also know that you're wrong."

"am i?"

"yes," he affirms. "i don't only care about fame. i care about you too, obviously."

"see, sae? give and take. i give you all i am--"

"and you take all i am."

"body and soul?"

"and everything in between," he finishes, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before settling into the pillows. "rest, mi amor. you've paid more attention to school than to me lately, and that's an unequal transaction."

hi mira can i pls req a sae x reader and it’s like falling in love with someone. like you know that feeling when you’re really getting to know someone and it sounds like a soft song

i love uu take care x

Synopsis: Thanks to a chance encounter on the beach, you spend your vacation trying to apologize to the famous soccer player you inadvertently offended. Unfortunately, Sae Itoshi has other plans.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Sae x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 11.6k

Content Warnings: love at first sight, fluff, humor, teasing as a love language, sae does not understand emotions or relationships but he’s rich asf, reader has a little brother and loves eating, meet-cutes, summer romance, SEAGULLS

A/N: although sae is a difficult character for me to get a hold of, i ended up having fun with this LMAO as i’m sure you can tell by the massive word count 😭 i hope he’s not horribly ooc or anything and that this is kind of what you were looking for anon!! tysm for requesting and ily too <3

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

You tried to evaluate the series of choices you had made which had led to you lying atop a boy with green eyes and sand smeared across his cheeks, a blank expression on his face despite the way you were literally sprawled over him.

First: your family had decided to spend your summer vacation in Spain. This was innocuous and broad enough, considering how large the country was, so you concluded that your brother’s desire to practice his rudimentary Spanish in a more realistic setting than his high school classroom could not be blamed for your plight.

Second: your father had gotten a great deal on rooms in a luxury beachfront hotel. He was like a bloodhound when it came to haggling and discounts, so it wasn’t a surprise that you were staying in such a nice place for a relatively cheap price — and with a complimentary breakfast every morning, too! Anyways, the hotel had its own private pool that you could’ve been lounging around beside, so that probably wasn’t the cause, either.

Third: your mother had told you that the beach within walking distance of the hotel was famous for its smooth waters and pale sand. You had to visit at least once, according to her and every other travel guide written about the region, but since no one had wanted to go with you, you had decided to go alone, bringing a book, a bottle of sunscreen, and a blanket with you, throwing a dress on over your swimsuit and preparing yourself to spend the entire day soaking in the sun’s rays. This was definitely a contributor to your current predicament, although considering the miles of beach that stretched out in both directions as far as the eye could see where you could’ve been instead of right there, it wasn’t the sole factor.

Fourth: you had thought you would get hungry at some point and had had the foresight to bring a sandwich with you. That was definitely the reason. If only you hadn’t been so concerned with your stomach! If only you had just sucked it up and made the trek back to the hotel upon feeling peckish instead of being so lazy and planning ahead, you wouldn’t be in this situation.

“Can you get off of me?” the boy groaned.

“I am so sorry!” you said, scrambling to your feet and offering him your hand. He did not take it, standing on his own and doing his best to wipe the sand from his face. Then he shook his head like a dog, shaking out the grittiness from his soft hair. “I’m really sorry. I was just running so fast, and I was so worried about my sandwich that I didn’t notice you were there until it was too late!”

“Sandwich?” he said. A few paces away, a seagull landed, the remnants of your lunch held in its beak. You and the boy watched as it tilted its head back, swallowing the last few bites before cawing at you in satisfaction.

“You pig!” you shouted, pointing at it, the boy beside you temporarily forgotten as you fumed over the loss. It cocked its head at you. “That was mine!”

“Ah,” the boy said. “Your sandwich.”

The seagull hopped towards you, like it was teasing you or something, and you screeched before diving at it. Satisfied with the mischief it had caused and the food it had stolen, as well as with making a fool out of you, the seagull took wing, flying well out of reach and leaving you facedown on the ground, your stomach grumbling sadly and emptily.

A foot nudged against your rib cage. “Hey. Sandwich girl. You’re not concussed, are you?”

Being referred to as sandwich girl was so humiliating that you were instantly pushing yourself into a sitting position, folding your arms across your chest as you gazed up at the boy, who still wore that same unimpressed expression from when you had barreled into him.

“No,” you said.

“That’s great,” he said, though he did not sound particularly concerned nor relieved. “Mind elaborating a bit more on why you ran me over? You could’ve seriously injured me, and then you would’ve been in a bunch of trouble.”

“You would’ve been in a bunch of trouble,” you mocked, making your voice high and smarmy. “Jeez, what are you, some kind of celebrity or something? I ran you over because I was taking a break from reading my book, and I realized that I was hungry. Well, luckily, I had brought a sandwich along with me, so it wasn’t a huge deal. I was just about ready to dig in, when that fat pig of a bird swooped down and stole it right out of my hands! The gall! The shamelessness! It was definitely laughing at me, and I can’t stand anyone who laughs at me, so naturally I took off in pursuit, and, uh, that’s how I ended up crashing into you. Though you really should’ve been paying more attention, too. What’s so fascinating about the horizon that you just blocked out the rest of the world for it?”

“I like looking at the ocean,” he said. “But, wait. What do you mean, some kind of celebrity? Don’t you know who I am?”

You gave him a once-over. He was tall, though not impressively so, and definitely well-muscled. His hair was a warm shade, and his green eyes were framed with long eyelashes that fluttered every time he blinked. A pair of sunglasses was perched atop the crown of his head, and the top few buttons of his white shirt were undone, lending him a breezy appearance.

“You’re not handsome enough to be an actor, so that can’t be it,” you said, chewing on your lower lip in thought. “Plus, I’ve seen a bunch of movies, and I’m pretty sure you haven’t been in any of them, so if you were in the film industry, you’d be a D-lister at best, and there’s no way you’d want to flex that kind of status.”

He furrowed his brow, the first hint of a different expression than the one he had kept for the entirety of your very brief acquaintance. “What?”

“What else are people famous for?” you said. “Oh! Are you a singer or something? Were you in that one boy band from a few years ago? I’m sorry, I was too busy having a ‘not-like-other-girls’ phase when they were popular, so I never got into them. I’m over the phase now, if you were wondering, but that would be why I didn’t recognize you.”

“You are amazingly off the mark,” he said.

“I am? I’m kind of out of ideas at this point, though. Can I have a hint or something?” you said.

“Do you watch soccer?” he said. You made a face.

“Hell no,” you said. His eye twitched, so you hurried to elaborate. “My little brother is obsessed with it, so by law, I’m required to hate everything related to the sport. Do you have any siblings? You’d get it if you did.”

“Ask your brother about Sae Itoshi,” he said.

“Okay,” you said, drafting a text to your brother and sending it when you had deemed it to be a perfect blend of uninterested and cool while also underscoring the urgency of the request. “So, your name’s Sae Itoshi? I’m Y/N L/N! I’m not a celebrity, though. If you text anyone and ask them about me, they’ll probably be pretty confused.”

“Yeah, I got that impression,” he said. Your phone vibrated in your hand, and when you looked at the notification, you saw that it was from your brother.

uglier sibling: no shit i know about sae itoshi. he’s that one super talented midfielder on re al. he’s dad and i’s fav player atm.

You gulped, glancing up at Sae before returning to your phone.

me: lol wtf is re al.

uglier sibling: it’s madrid’s team lmfaooo dumbass how do you not know that

uglier sibling: actually wait why are u even asking lol

uglier sibling: did u meet him or something

me: funny story actually!

uglier sibling: WHAT

uglier sibling: y/n are u with sae itoshi rn.

uglier sibling: y/n answer pls

uglier sibling: can you at least get his autograph for me or smth???

Pretending like you were still texting your brother, you typed the name Sae Itoshi into your phone’s search engine. The photos that came up matched the boy in front of you, and the news articles made your heart pound. He actually was a celebrity, and furthermore, his earlier arrogance was deserved. If you had somehow injured such a famous player and put him out of commission for the season, then you really would’ve been done for. It hadn’t been an exaggerated sense of self-importance but an honest evaluation of himself.

“Ahem,” you said, feigning a cough to appear dignified and mature. “It seems like you are a pretty well-known soccer player, Mr. Itoshi.”

“It seems like I am,” he said.

“My brother and dad are big fans, apparently,” you said.

“Good thing you didn’t take me out permanently, then, or I’m sure they would’ve been pretty disappointed,” he said.

You cringed. “I’m sorry again.”

“Whatever. I won’t hold it against you; all’s well that ends well, after all,” he said.

“I feel really bad, though,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

“You didn’t do anything, so there’s nothing to make up for,” he said.

“Not true! I knocked you over and said you’re not handsome!” you said. “I’d say that warrants some kind of recompense.”

“It’ll warrant more recompense if you keep saying it,” he said.

“You agree that you deserve payment, then? Great! Um…how about I…buy you lunch?” you said, the insistent pangs of your stomach reminding you that you still hadn’t eaten.

“Is food the only thing you can think about?” he said.

“For your information, it is not, but I haven’t eaten since the morning, so I’m hungry,” you said.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he said. “It’s okay. I’m not interested, and just so you know, I’ve been asked out by plenty of girls, but by far, this has been the lamest attempt.”

You supposed, looking back, that it did seem like that was your end goal. But, of course, it had been nothing of the sort; you were just planning on going to eat yourself and thought that you might as well kill two birds with one stone. It was just your luck that he had twisted your words into such a request, though! How were you supposed to maneuver yourself out of this position? If you denied it furiously, then it would seem like you were just ashamed at getting caught, but if you didn’t say anything, then it would be akin to agreeing with his accusation.

There was only one way out of it, and even though you were usually opposed to lying, and even more opposed to bullying others, it was the only thing you could think of. So, bowing your head, you clasped your hands together in front of your heart.

“I’m sorry, but you’re not my type, Mr. Itoshi,” you said. “Like I said, you’re really not that handsome. Also, I’m into tall guys.”

That was how you found yourself sitting across from Sae Itoshi in a private booth at a fancy restaurant, your hands trembling as you read over the menu items and their associated prices.

“I’m in the mood for steak,” Sae said, stroking his chin and setting down his menu, interlacing his fingers and raising his eyebrows at you. “What about you?”

“Steak is a dinner item, don’t you think?” you said, your head spinning at the fact that he had picked the most expensive thing that was served at the entire establishment. “It’s lunchtime.”

“I’m an athlete,” he said seriously. “I need a lot of protein in all of my meals. Especially because I’m so short. It’s important for me to build muscle, don’t you agree? How else will I manage to compete with the taller, better-looking players?”

“Steak it is,” you said with a faux smile. “As for me, I’ll just get crackers.”

“Crackers? What kind of lunch is that?” he said.

“An affordable one,” you muttered under your breath.

“What?” he said.

“Nothing!” you said. “It’s nothing. I just really like crackers.”

He gave you an odd look. “Alright.”

You waved the waiter over. He had been hovering around your table for the past few minutes, and as soon as he saw you beckoning him, he sprinted to your side, fumbling with his pen and notepad before reaching you and bowing.

“Sae Itoshi, sir! I’m sorry to interrupt your date, but I just wanted to say that I’m a huge fan of yours. If — if it’s not too much trouble, could I have your autograph?” he said.

Sae sighed, a long-suffering and irritable sigh. “Just take our order first. I’ll give it to you after we’ve eaten.”

“Oh, my apologies,” the waiter said. “What would you like?”

“I’ll have the steak, and I also want this sandwich, but omit the tomatoes, please,” he said, pointing at the menu items he wanted.

“Got it,” the waiter said. “What about you, miss?”

“Just the crackers,” you said. The waiter paused, but when you did not say anything more, he giggled nervously.

“Would you, uh, like some cheese with those?” he said.

“Nope,” you said. “I’m really the biggest fan of plain crackers. That’s all I want.”

“Sure, miss, if that’s what you’d like,” he said. “So, one steak, one sandwich, and a plate of crackers?”

“That’s right,” Sae said, hardly looking up from his phone when he did so. It was only once the waiter had run off to place your orders that he put the device away, resting his elbows against the table, setting his chin in his hands and giving you a bored look. “Why are you glaring at me?”

“Steak and a sandwich, really?” you said.

“A conversation with you was more than enough to increase my appetite,” he said. “Forget about that. This is the part where you ask me questions about myself and I pretend like I am interested enough to answer them.”

“Why would I do that?” you said, rolling your eyes at him. “Actually, I’m pretty sure your answer to that question will be something that makes me even more annoyed than I already am, so don’t bother. What’s your favorite movie?”

“You’re not going to ask me about soccer?” he said. “It’s Taxi Driver, by the way.”

“I don’t know that much about soccer, so what would I even ask? Based on what I’ve seen from the matches my brother and dad watch, it’s just a bunch of sweaty guys kicking around a ball and pretending like they’re dying whenever another player happens to look at them the wrong way,” you said. “Oh, actually, I am curious about that. How many of those injuries are real? Have you ever faked getting hurt?”

“Almost none of them,” he said. “Generally, players will overreact for the sake of entertainment and the possibility of the opposition receiving yellow cards. I’ve never needed to do anything like that, and I never want to, because it looks stupid. Also, soccer is more than that mediocre description you just gave me.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” you said. “Man kick ball. Ball go in net. Man happy. That’s the extent of it.”

“Women play soccer, too,” he said.

“It’s the same concept there, but with women instead of men. Not the argument you thought it was,” you said.

“I can’t believe you actually dislike soccer,” he said.

There was definitely some irony in the fact that you couldn’t care less about his chosen sport, and yet you were the one who had somehow finagled your way into eating with him — even if you were the one who was paying. There were so many people who’d do anything to be in your place, but to you, it was a begrudging chore that you were only performing because you felt obligated to. Mentally, you had already marked the entire encounter down as something that you’d laugh about to your friends later; a fun story you’d tell at parties, but little else.

“Like I told you earlier, I’m the older sister. If I didn’t rag on my brother’s interests, then I couldn’t claim that title in any way that mattered,” you said. Sae’s eyes flicked down to the ground.

“You should be nice to your brother when you can,” he said.

“Are you some kind of an only child or saint, then? There’s no way you’re saying that if you have a normal relationship with any possible siblings,” you said.

“I have a little brother,” he said. “Our relationship is okay. I haven’t seen him in a while, though.”

“Long distance?” you said, reaching over to pat him on the hand sympathetically. “That’s the worst. I miss my friends and my pets already, and I’m only here for vacation.”

He snatched his hand away. “You make it sound like we’re dating or something. It’s alright. I’m sure it’ll be the same as it was whenever I go back.”

“True, it’s not like he can dump you and find a new brother who’s both better and more conveniently located than you are. He’s kind of stuck with you forever,” you said.

“Enough about my brother,” he said. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Okay,” you said. “What TV shows do you watch when you’re bored?”

The two of you continued on in that mindless manner until your food arrived. Your mood, which had steadily been rising as Sae proved himself to be, if nothing else, a willing conversationalist, rapidly plummeted as the waiter set the steak and sandwich in front of Sae and the crackers in front of you.

“Enjoy your meal,” the waiter said.

“I’m sure one of us will,” you said, picking up a cracker and biting into it rebelliously. Sae began to cut his steak into small pieces, using his fork to demurely place the meat on his tongue, doing nothing to disguise the indulgence of eating such a wonderfully prepared meal while you were stuck with crackers.

“What a shame,” Sae said when he was about halfway through his steak. You hadn’t spoken since the food had come, mostly because you were too busy fervently hoping that he would choke and you would somehow be awarded a free meal as an apology on the restaurant’s part, so you jumped at the sound of his voice cutting through the silence. “My eyes were bigger than my stomach. I don’t think I’ll be able to eat that sandwich after all.”

“We should send it back, then,” you said.

“What sort of place do you think this is?” he said. “It’s already been ordered, so it’s ours now.”

“Are you serious?” you said. “What now? I’ll have to pay for something that you didn’t even eat!”

“You’ll just have to have it,” he said.

“Me?” you said, already salivating at the delectable sandwich, the bread which was taunting you. Come, it seemed to be calling out to you. Eat me. You know you want to. “I guess that’s a sensible prospect. Someone’s going to have to take it.”

“Someone will,” he agreed, sliding the plate across the table and stealing a cracker for his troubles. “It might as well be you. My coach will be pretty upset if I get stomach cramps next season because I overate too much on my off time. I’d have to tell him that it was your fault, and then you’d have all of Re Al after you, and you don’t want that. They’re relentless.”

Your fingers inched towards the sandwich. “I definitely don’t. That sounds scary.”

“It would be amusing,” he said. “A waste of resources, though. They might cut my salary to make up for it. ”

“Then the only solution is for me to eat this sandwich,” you said.

“Essentially,” he said. You gave in, taking an enormous bite of the tantalizing sandwich and exhaling in delight. It really was as good as the exorbitant price tag claimed it would be, and although you would never buy such a thing for yourself, you found that you were a little more grateful for the series of events that had led you to be in this position now that your stomach was finally being greeted with something substantial.

“It’s good,” you said, your words muffled by the napkin you held in front of your mouth as you finished chewing. “I can kind of get why they charge so much now. It’s still way more than any sandwich should ever cost, ever, but…I kinda get it. Is your food good, too?”

“It is,” he said.

“Alright!” you said, giving him a double thumbs up. “Then you can consider this a worthy apology! Let’s finish eating and be done with the entire mess.”

“Hm? But how can it be a worthy apology when I’m the one who paid for everything? To me, that doesn’t sound like an apology at all,” he said. You froze, your mouth wide open, the sandwich still halfway to your mouth and drooping in your hands. Sae looked at you, still expressionless, though if you really focused, you would’ve noticed something like mirth dancing in his irises.

“What do you mean?” you said. He unlocked his phone and showed you his screen.

“You can pay by app here,” he said. “I did it as soon as we were done ordering. I was going to tell you after you ordered what you wanted for yourself, but I wasn’t expecting you to be so frugal that you’d really only order crackers!”

“But — but I was supposed to pay! To apologize for—”

“You don’t have to say it,” Sae said sourly, cutting you off. “Believe me, I remember exactly what you have to apologize for, and I’m not going to forget. I just paid this time because I was feeling generous, but you still owe me.”

It was a little suspicious, but you didn’t have any reason to accuse him of anything, so you only narrowed your eyes at him. Taking another bite of your sandwich, you mulled over the latest reveal. He was paying for the entire lunch? You still owed him? You could manipulate that in your favor, then.

“Tomorrow morning, I’ll pay for your breakfast,” you said. “The hotel I’m staying at has complimentary breakfast for guests, but outsiders can eat for a certain fee. I’ll pay for your entrance, and then we can be even.”

“Sure,” he said. “I eat breakfast early, though.”

“How early?” you said.

“I have a snack at 7:00 a.m., before I go for my morning run, and then I eat a proper meal afterwards,” he said.

“Oh!” you said. “Any chance you could not do that?”

“It’s part of my training regimen,” he said. “How about you pay for my food and come on my run with me?”

“I hate running,” you said.

“You’re apologizing. It’s supposed to be an agonizing process,” he said. “You’ve called me short and ugly at least three separate times already, not to mention the entire slamming into me ordeal. It’s really the least you can do.”

“7:00 it is,” you said, though you were fighting back tears at the mere thought of getting up so early while on vacation. “Give me your phone.”

“No way,” he said, holding the phone away from you while you tried to swipe at it. “What are you going to do, post something embarrassing on my social media accounts?”

“Why would I do that?” you said. “I was going to text myself so I had your number and could send you my location for tomorrow.”

“Or you could tell me which hotel you’re staying at now, and then my phone is entirely removed from the equation,” he suggested.

“Do you think I remember the name?” you said. “That’s a rhetorical question, by the way. I don’t.”

He handed you his phone with an aggravated huff. “Fine. Don’t abuse the privilege. I only give important people my contact information.”

“Woah, you really are stingy,” you said, scrolling through his contacts list. All of them either had the designation of work attached to their profiles, or they were clearly members of Sae’s family.

Clicking on the plus sign in the corner, you created a new contact for yourself, typing in your number and giving yourself the name Y/N L/N — sandwich. It fit the naming conventions he had going on, and if it weren’t for the reminder that you were the so-called ‘sandwich girl’, you doubted he would remember who you were in the first place.

“Of course I am. Imagine I gave every crazy fan I met my number. I’d have a million stalkers before you could say Re Al,”he said.

“I’m not a crazy fan. To clarify, I’m not a fan in the first place,” you said, texting yourself from his number before taking out your own phone and responding to the message with a thumbs up.

“Correct, which is why you get my number,” he said.

“I feel so honored,” you said dryly. “Actually, you know what? I would feel honored, if it weren’t for the fact that you’re only giving it to me because you want to wake me up at an unholy hour and make me run with you before paying for your breakfast.”

“Would you rather pay for this meal?” he said, showing you the receipt he had been emailed. Your eyes widened, and then you shook your head rapidly.

“Nope! See you tomorrow!”

The next morning, you tiptoed around the hotel room as you got ready, trying your best not to wake your mother up. She, and the rest of your family, had been up late last night, going out for dinner and dessert well past your bedtime. Far too embarrassed to tell them the realreason you were going to sleep early, you had said you were sick and went to bed as soon as the sun set.

Angrily gnawing on a granola bar from your mother’s emergency stash, you stomped down the spiraling hotel staircase, your eyes still bleary as you texted your family group chat that you were going out for a morning walk but would be back for breakfast.

Sae Itoshi was waiting for you in the lobby, doing some weird stretching routine that involved pressing his foot against the wall and leaning over it. You watched him, bemused, wondering which muscles he was trying to stretch before giving up and deciding it was probably one of those pro moves that you were too uninterested and unathletic for.

“Oh, you’re here,” he said. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” you said, giving him another one of the granola bars you had taken from your mother’s backpack. “Sorry, it’s sort of smushed. It’s been in a backpack for the last few days.”

He pinched the wrapper between his forefinger and thumb, looking at the granola bar with a disgusted expression. You didn’t think it was thategregious, but according to Sae, it must have been all but an offense against humanity, as he tossed it into the trash can within seconds of having it within his grasp.

“I already ate my snack,” he said.

“Why did you throw that away? I could’ve eaten it!” you said.

“That thing had probably melted and reformed at least twice. It was most definitely radioactive. I did you a favor, so you should say thank you,” he said.

“Thank you, Mr. Itoshi, for protecting me from the horrors of a slightly misshapen granola bar. I’m sure that, by throwing away that still edible brick of deliciousness, you have done me a great service. Possibly, you have even saved my life. I am eternally grateful,” you said.

He snorted. “You’re terrible at groveling. No wonder you have to do all of this ridiculous stuff to apologize to me instead of just saying sorry and moving on like a normal person.”

“Look, it’s a product of my upbringing,” you said. He finished stretching and headed out of the door; you followed after him with a smile at the hotel concierge, who seemed surprised to watch you go — whether it was the hour or your company, you weren’t sure. “Whenever my parents did something to upset me, they never apologized. They just came to my room with a bowl of fruit they had cut for me.”

“At least you got fruit,” he said. “My parents just told me to go practice soccer until I had cooled off.”

“Wow, really? That’s hardcore,” you said. Sae began to jog, and you did the same, though it was closer to a run for you than anything. “Did you just kick around the ball until you were less mad?”

“Pretty much,” he said.

“How horrible,” you said.

“Eh, it’s fine. It was a good way to get my anger out, and it had the added benefit of making me better at the sport, so it was pretty constructive overall,” he said.

“I still can’t imagine it,” you said, shaking your head. “What’s it like, being a professional athlete? Your entire life revolves around a game. What about when you can’t play anymore? When you’re too old, or if you get injured?”

His upper lip curled. “Do you want that to happen or something? Why are you speaking it into existence?”

“Not the injury part, but everyone grows old. You can’t stop that,” you said.

“I’ll play for as long as I can, and then I’ll coach for longer,” he said. “After that, I’ll retire and make sure my kids follow in my footsteps. Athletes make a lot of money, so I luckily won’t ever have to worry much about my finances.”

“What if your kids don’t want to play soccer?” you said. He actually sneered this time, the expression at home on his cold face.

“What else would they do with themselves? If they don’t want to play soccer, or if they have no talent at it, then they’re definitely not my children in the first place,” he said.

“Hm, maybe cooking? What if they want to be a chef?” you said.

“Then I’d wonder how your kids snuck into my house,” he said. You gasped, though it was as much for breath as it was out of offense.

“Stop it! You just happened to catch me at a hungry time!” you said.

“Sure,” he said.

“Just entertain the hypothetical that you really did somehow father children that were into cooking instead of soccer. How would you react?” you said.

“I would put them up for adoption,” he said.

“Seriously?” you said.

“No, obviously not,” he said. “What kind of person do you think I am? Why did you actually find that to be within the realm of possibility?”

“I think you’re some kind of soccer fiend. Who knows how dedicated you are to the cause?” you said.

“Not that dedicated,” he said. “I’d be disappointed if my kids can’t play soccer, and our relationship would probably be a bit distant, as I don’t know much about anything else, but I wouldn’t disown them.”

“You don’t know much about anything besides soccer? That’s a little sad,” you said.

“Kind of,” he said.

“Do you wish you knew about other things?” you said.

“Everyone has something they specialize in. It’s not uncommon for someone to know a lot about one thing and only a little about others,” he said. “My ‘thing’ is soccer. If it wasn’t that, then it’d be something else, so if I was in the business of wishing, I’d always be unsatisfied.”

You were already panting for breath when Sae picked up the pace, though he had not so much as broken a sweat yet. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, taking in your obvious struggles, and then he made the decision to not slow down at all.

“I get it,” you said. “You’ll face no judgment from me.”

“Like I would care if you did judge me,” he said. “You’re already dying, and we haven’t even started running yet.”

“This isn’t running?” you said. “What the hell? How much faster can you even go?”

“If you think that this is anywhere near the pace of an average soccer match, then I don’t even know where to begin with you,” he said.

“You look slower on TV!”

“What, so you think I’m slow, too?”

You and Sae returned to the hotel in markedly different conditions. He wasn’t even warm, still appearing to be perfectly put together and entirely perspiration-free, smelling faintly like body soap and cologne. On the other hand, you were still trying to regain your wits about you, leaning on his shoulder so that you did not fall over from exhaustion.

“This is embarrassing for you,” he informed you as you walked towards the breakfast area.

“You’re a professional athlete and I’m a normal girl! It would be embarrassing for you if I could keep up!” you argued weakly.

“That would be true, if I wasn’t going easy on you,” he said, pulling out a chair for you and helping you into it, brushing his arm off when he was sure you were seated. “I’m going to go to the bathroom. Be right back.”

“Have fun,” you said, resting your head in your hands, already knowing what you wanted to get. “We can walk through the buffet together. I’ll take the time to recover.”

“You do that,” he said.

While he was gone, you opened your phone, catching up on all of the texts in the family group chat that you hadn’t been able to read while you were attempting to run with Sae.

me: going for a morning walk but i’ll be back for breakfast

me: just wanted to let you all know so you weren’t worried!

uglier sibling: yeah nobody was worried LMFAO

mom: Hope you’re feeling better, honey!

dad: Make sure you’re back before 10. That’s when the complimentary breakfast ends, and we’re not paying for overpriced toast with jam.

uglier sibling: i still can’t believe u went for a morning walk

uglier sibling: like

uglier sibling: since when do u voluntarily wake up in the mornings at all let alone leave ur bed LET ALONE TAKE A WALK

uglier sibling: bitches will meet sae itoshi one time and suddenly they’re fitness influencers or wtvr

uglier sibling: btw i’m still mad that u didn’t get his autograph or a photo with him or anything

uglier sibling: i bet u made it up

uglier sibling: LIAR. FRAUD. HACK.

mom: Honey, leave your sister alone. Why would she make something like that up? 

dad: Your mother is right. Y/N doesn’t even know who Sae Itoshi is.

So it was a typical conversation, then. You hadn’t missed much; just your brother being salty and your parents showing some care for your well-being, as well as your father worrying for his wallet like he was prone to do. You didn’t even bother responding, just liking your father’s two messages and then putting your phone away.

“Y/N, you’re back already? What good timing!” your father called out to you from the entrance to the hotel restaurant. The world slowed as you turned to see the rest of your family walking into the restaurant, dressed in their typical touristy outfits. Your mother waved at you, and your brother faked gagging.

“Wow, you look like shit,” he said. “The fuck kinda morning walk were you on?”

“Gross, it’s you,” you said. “Go away! I’m busy.”

“You don’t even have any food with you,” he pointed out. “Can I sit with you? The parents are way too chipper in the mornings.”

“No!” you said.

“But there’s an empty seat at your table. Are you saving it for someone?” he said.

“Yes,” you said, wishing that for once they would’ve all slept in instead of getting here at the exact time that you and Sae had.

“No, you’re not,” he said.

“Come on, you two, let’s sit together and have a family breakfast!” your father said, motioning you and your brother over from where he and your mother had settled at a four-person table. Your brother gave you a pleading look.

“I’ll owe you forever,” he said. “I’ll grind on all of your video games for you the entire plane ride home!”

“I’m not lying, dude, I actually am sitting with someone. Now fuck off and leave me alone!” you hissed.

“Who?” he said, crossing his arms. “Your imaginary friend? Or your imaginary boyfriend!”

“Excuse me? Sorry, I was sitting there. Do you mind—?”

The most comical expression you had ever seen flashed over your brother’s face just then. It was horror mixed with incredulity mixed with extreme confusion. He turned slowly, his jaw dropping as he made eye contact with Sae Itoshi, whose dry countenance and perfect posture were as off-putting as ever.

“What?” your brother said. “What is going on?”

Sae sat opposite you. “This hotel has the most confusing first floor layout I’ve ever encountered. It took me ages just to find the bathroom.”

“There’s signs. Can you not read?” you said. He stared at you dully.

“I can read. I just happened not to look up at them,” he said.

“If I didn’t want to pay for even more food, I’d make another short joke, but I shall refrain,” you said.

“That was cutting it close,” he said.

“Y/N. My beautiful, amazing, wonderful older sister,” your brother said.

“Yes?” you said, preparing yourself for the incoming explosion. “Also, that’s not what you were calling me in the group chat earlier, was it?”

“Is that Sae Itoshi?” he said.

“Liar, fraud, hack, was that what it was?” you said. “Run along, loser. Maybe if you were nicer to me, I’d let you sit with us.”

Your brother opened his mouth to argue, but then, like he had remembered he was standing in front of his idol, he hung his head and trudged off, scuffing his toes against the floor as he did and giving you a betrayed look over his shoulder.

“That’s your little brother?” Sae said.

“Yup,” you said. “Your self-proclaimed biggest fan.”

“And you made him go sit with your parents instead of talking to me? You’re super mean, big sister,” Sae said.

“He wouldn’t shut up if I let him stay here, and considering the goal of this is for you to eat and then leave me alone for the rest of my vacation, that would not be conducive,” you said.

“I see,” he said. “I didn’t realize that was the goal.”

“Isn’t it yours, as well? I’m sure you’d like to enjoy yourself on your time off from soccer,” you said.

“Who says I’m not enjoying myself?” he said. You furrowed your brow at him.

“You’ve had the same expression on your face every time we’ve spoken,” you pointed out, lowering your eyelids and pursing your lips in an imitation of his resting mien. “Like this. It’s totally amphibious.”

“Amphibious?” he repeated. “What does that even mean?”

“You don’t know what amphibious means? Man, when you said you only focused on soccer, I didn’t think it was this bad!” you said.

“I know what amphibious means! I just don’t see how the word applies,” he said.

“Oh, right. Well, you kind of look like the frog emoji,” you said. “Sorry, I could’ve been clearer. That’s my bad.”

“Were you dropped on the head as a baby? I’m asking this from a place of concern, not anger,” Sae said. “It’s because you say so many nonsensical things. After all, I look nothing like the frog emoji.”

“Sure, and people tell me I look like a famous actress,” you said.

“Really?” he said.

“No, I thought we were both saying things that aren’t true,” you said.

“I think you look like a famous actress,” he said. “There. Now we’re both saying things that are true.”

“Well done, Mr. Itoshi! That was clever,” you said, knowing when to concede.

“Thank you,” he said. “Let’s go get our food now. If you die of starvation on my watch, it’ll be a major scandal for Re Al.”

“Your manager must love you,” you said. “So conscientious of your public image.”

“Nope, he’s usually pretty pissed at me,” he said as the two of you got in the buffet line.

“What for?” you said.

“Contrary to what you think, I’m pretty unconcerned with my public image. I’m a soccer player, not some kind of philanthropist or actor or whatever,” he said. “What does it matter if I offend people? My value is in playing well, not being friendly or kind.”

“No one ever accused you of being either of those two,” you said, spreading butter and jam over your toast. “You’re not that bad, though.”

“You’re not that bad, either,” he said. “At least, you’re better company than my manager.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” you said. He scoffed.

“You have low standards,” he said.

“Yours are lower,” you said.

“Very mature response.”

“Thanks!”

Sae was a pretty agreeable breakfast partner. He wasn’t as impossibly cheerful as your parents, who generally drove you crazy with their talkativeness so early in the day, but he also wasn’t as silent and closed off as your brother, who was prone to snapping at others until he had finished at least half of his meal. As with lunch yesterday, it was almost an enjoyable experience, right up until you remembered whose card he was eating on.

“Where are you going?” he said when your plates had been cleared and you had pushed yourself to your feet. He followed after you as you made your way to the hostess’s station, ignoring the whispers that echoed behind the two of you.

“To pay for you to be here, duh,” you said, fishing around in your purse for your wallet. “I know you’re famous and all, but that doesn’t mean you get to eat for free. In fact, that was kind of the point of the meal.”

“I already paid for myself, so you can go and sit back down with your family if you’d like,” he said.

“What? When?” you said.

“I wouldn’t spend that long in a bathroom,” he said. “Not a public one.”

“You little—! Now what?” you said.

“Now you have to see me tomorrow,” he said. “Bye. I’ll pick you up for dinner, so make sure to wear something nice, and bring your credit card. It’s your treat.”

He walked off with a jaunty wave, leaving you standing there, confounded by the development. He had paid for himself again? What was the point of making you take him places if he was just going to cough up the cash himself anyways?

“Psst. Y/N,” your brother said. You weren’t sure when or where he had appeared, but it remained that he was suddenly tapping you on the shoulder and whispering in your ear. “Does Sae Itoshi have a crush on you? If so, please ask if he can get tickets for dad and I to attend his next game.”

“What?” you said, a shockwave running through your entire body at the mere thought of Sae having a crush on you. It was so juvenile and cliched as to be out of Sae’s character entirely. “No! I just owe him.”

“For what?” your brother said.

“I ran into him, called him ugly, and said that he was short,” you said. “Indirectly, of course, but it still happened. I was supposed to buy him lunch yesterday as an apology, but then he ended up paying for us both, and then today, I went on a run with him, and I was going to pay for him to have breakfast here, but guess what?”

“He paid for himself?” your brother said.

“He paid for — yeah, how did you know?” you said.

“There weren’t that many ways the story could’ve gone. Also, I overheard you guys talking,” he said.

“Creep,” you said.

“Weirdo,” he said.

“Freak,” you said.

“Stupid,” he said. “I bet he has a crush on you.”

“Why would he? We have zero common interests, and I’ve mostly only insulted him in our very short time knowing one another,” you said.

“Maybe he’s into that. Some guys are. My one friend is — actually, I’m not exposing him like that,” he said.

“Thank you, because I really didn’t want to know,” you said.

“Anyways, where I was going with that is some guys like girls who humble them a bit. Especially someone like Sae Itoshi; he’s probably so used to people falling all over themselves to get his attention that it’s nice for him to hang out with someone who’s too oblivious to care about that kind of stuff,” he said.

“People like you?” you said. “I told him you were his biggest fan, just so you know.”

“Why would you do that?” your brother said, his eyes bugging out and his mouth forming a pained grimace. “He probably thinks I’m a nerd now!”

“You do it to yourself, buddy,” you said. “Let’s go. It looks like the parents want us to go sit with them. Think you can handle it?”

“After learning that my hero has a crush on my sister and, furthermore, probably thinks of me as some kind of dweeb, I can handle anything,” he said.

The entire day, you pondered your brother’s words. Did Sae have a crush on you? Running through his actions and every conversation you both had ever had led you to think that he did not. It didn’t seem like he liked you very much in even a platonic sense, so how could anyone begin to think he liked you romantically? It was just tolerance for the sake of his pride, that was all.

And you definitely didn’t like him. He was emotionless and conceited and teased you far too often. What did it matter that he was somewhat attractive? He had a terrible personality, and you bet that if more of his fans knew what he was like, he wouldn’t have any to begin with.

No wonder Sae’s manager hated him. He was probably a jerk to his poor employees, too.

“We’re thinking of going here for dinner tonight,” your father said the next day. “Look, their reviews are pretty high, and their prices aren’t crazy. What does everyone think?”

“I’m fine with anything,” your mother said.

“Same here,” your brother said.

“Y/N?” your father said. You were about to respond when your own phone buzzed. You knew exactly who it was texting you, and you sighed as you opened it.

sae itoshi (dumb haircut): I will be there in one hour.

sae itoshi (dumb haircut): You better not have forgotten about our plans for tonight.

sae itoshi (dumb haircut): I made a reservation, so I’ll really be mad if you stand me up.

sae itoshi (dumb haircut): Especially because you’re paying.

me: I WILL BE THERE OMFG STOP TEXTING ME

sae itoshi (dumb haircut): Okay.

“I can’t,” you said.

“Why not? Are you on some new diet or something? They should have vegetarian options, so that won’t be a problem,” your father said. “We can look at their menu beforehand if you prefer, and if you really don’t like anything, then we can find somewhere else.”

“I already have plans,” you said, your lower lip jutting out childishly. “Not that I want to! But I made a promise.”

“You already have plans? What’s that supposed to mean?” your mother said.

“I’m having dinner with someone,” you said.

“Ooh, how exciting! With who?” she said.

“I bet I can guess!” your brother sang.

“Enough out of you!” you said, kicking him in the back of the leg. He doubled over, though that did not stop him from smirking at you.

“Y/N and Sae, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” he said.

“You’re going out with Sae Itoshi?” your father said. “You should’ve just said so! That’s perfectly alright, honey. Actually, he’s the one man I’m not upset about you dating!”

“We are not dating!” you said. “It’s a more transactional relationship than that. No feelings involved. It’s just me apologizing to him.”

“Are you close enough to him to get an autograph for your brother and I?” your dad said.

“Um.” You thought about it. Would Sae give you an autograph for them? You weren’t sure. There was a chance he would, but there was also a high chance he would not. “I dunno. I can ask.”

“You’ll ask for dad, but not for me? Wow, I see how it is,” your brother said.

“Yeah, because you’re annoying!” you said. “Ugh. I have to get ready now. He’ll be here to get me in an hour. Have fun at dinner, all of you. Keep me in your thoughts and prayers.”

“You have fun as well,” your mother said. “Make sure not to bring any money with you. Gentlemen should always pay on the first date.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him that,” you said, giving up on explaining things to your family for the sake of your sanity.

Sae was aggressively punctual. Exactly an hour after he had texted you, a shiny black car was pulling up in the valet lane, and a tall, bald man in a suit was opening the door for you. You climbed in awkwardly, finding Sae to be sitting on the other side, gazing out of the window pensively.

“Hello,” you said, smoothing your dress and buckling your seatbelt. “You have a driver?”

“Of course I do,” he said. “I usually walk places when I’m on vacation, but this restaurant is kind of far, so I thought it’d be more prudent to have the driver take us.”

“I see,” you said. “Thank you, driver, sir.”

The driver hummed in acknowledgement but did not say anything else. You supposed he probably wasn’t used to talking with his passengers; you doubted Sae ever spoke to him much.

“It’s been so hot out recently,” Sae said stiffly.

“That’s what happens during the summer, yes,” you said.

“That’s true,” he said.

“You’re right, though,” you said. “It has been hot.”

“Super hot,” he said.

“Yes,” you said. “Super hot.”

That must’ve been why there was a slight redness to his cheeks. There was definitely no other reason. And there wasn’t any other reason for why you felt uncomfortably warm, shifting in your seat to dissipate the feeling in your stomach. It was the temperature. That was all.

Given the trend, you really should have anticipated it when Sae paid for your dinner while you were freshening up in the bathroom, but you really had not seen it coming in the slightest. He scrunched up his face when you argued, simply telling you that he would see you tomorrow before dropping you back off at your hotel, the receipt in your hand, his flourishing signature scrawled across the back.

“For your brother,” he had said, handing it to you before you could even ask him for his autograph. “You said he was a fan, right? I’ll get him a better one later, but for now, this should do.”

You spent every day of the rest of that vacation with Sae Itoshi. Some days, you would accompany him on a morning walk — he had softened to slowing his pace, so that he was only barely jogging instead of the full on run that he had forced you into that first time — and on others, the two of you would have some meal or another together. The common theme was that, if there was money involved, he would take care of it. Without question, without hesitation, he always slapped your hand back and pulled out his own credit card, telling you that now you both had to meet again, and the next time you really would be the one paying, or else he’d never be able to forgive you for your terrible behavior.

Your parents and brother complained about it at first, as your new friendship with Sae — could it be considered a friendship, or was it something else? — meant you did not see them much on what was supposed to be a family vacation.

You brought it up with Sae, and he responded with something about how it wouldn’t have been a problem at all if you weren’t such a freeloader and actually paid for him, like you were supposed to. This resulted in a lighthearted squabble between you both, which in turn made you forget your family’s whining, and as well you should have. You could take a million more vacations with them, but you’d likely never get a chance to hang out with Sae Itoshi again, so why wouldn’t you take advantage of it when you could?

Sae didn’t forget, though. He sent you back from dinner the next evening with a soccer ball he had won in one of his games, his signature and a note of gratitude scribbled on it in black marker.

Thank you for letting me borrow your daughter and sister from you while you’re on your trip. I really appreciate it, even if she doesn’t know anything about soccer. — Sae Itoshi

They stopped complaining after that. The ball became your brother’s most prized possession, and every day, your father would tell you how happy he was that you had made such a considerate friend.

“And you know, if you ever want to date him,” he’d say, elbowing you in the side with an obnoxious wink. “We wouldn’t be opposed!”

Your mother was in the same boat. “He really cares about you, I think. Enough that he gave your family something so precious just because he thought we didn’t like him. You could do a lot worse than that.”

“Plus, he’s rich and famous!” your brother would chime in without fail. “Double win!”

“You guys are all nuts,” you’d tell them, shaking your head to disguise how pleased the thought of dating Sae made you.

It could never happen. Like your brother was so happy to remind you, he was rich and famous, an athlete that was adored worldwide and played for the best soccer club in history. He could have any girl he wanted, so why would he ever choose you? You and he were from two different planes of existence. Maybe you could pretend for a little bit that you weren’t, but the date for your eventual departure from Spain was drawing closer and closer, and that day meant the certain end of the fever dream that was your closeness with Sae.

You had been prepared from the start for it to finish in this way. You would go home and tell all of your friends about your trip, how you had spent almost every day with the famous soccer player Sae Itoshi, how he had given you his phone number and made you go on runs with him, how together, you and him had eaten lunch and dinner and breakfast and several meals that you were convinced he had just made up to have an excuse to buy food for the two of you — brunch, linner, midnight snacks and third desserts.

There were other things that you wouldn’t tell them, too, things that Sae had not necessarily said to you in confidence but which you sensed were held close to his heart and which you would therefore hold close to yours. His little brother was named Rin, and they had the same eyes, though Rin’s were quicker to water and perpetually had hair falling into them. He still watched the same shows he used to when he was very small, because they reminded him of his parents’ home. He thought that a person’s athletic potential could be determined by the shape of their butt, but he tended to avoid looking as a form of respect for others.

“That’s a pretty cool skill, Sae! What do you think my athletic potential is?” you had asked when he had revealed that last fact.

“If it’s possible for a person to have negative potential, then that’s about what yours is. If it’s not, then you’re definitely at a zero,” he had responded.

“You didn’t even look,” you had said, shoving a French fry into his mouth as punishment. He hated French fries for how unhealthy they were, and you had half-expected him to lecture you about fats and oils and salts, but instead, he had dutifully chewed and swallowed without any theatrics.

“Don’t need to, and don’t plan to,” he had said, and that was that. “I’ve already seen you run, and that told me all I needed to know about your athletic skills. Or, in this case, your lack thereof.”

If you took his words at face value, then you would’ve thought he truly hated you. He never missed a chance to make fun of you, and you were the same way — certainly, anyone who overheard your conversations would’ve been convinced that you and he were bitter enemies. But that was because they didn’t see the way he always positioned himself on the sidewalk so that he was between you and the oncoming traffic. They didn’t see the way he’d pull out your chair and only pretend to frown when you’d thank him for it. They didn’t see the way his ears would turn pink if you dared to smile in his direction or, heaven forbid, agreed with what he was saying instead of arguing, as was your go-to.

No, you were pretty confident that Sae Itoshi did not hate you. It was just that soccer was his thing and all other areas were beyond him, areas which included such fields as emotional awareness and sensitivity.

Maybe you might tell the friends you were particularly close to about that. Sae Itoshi treated me pretty well, you’d say, with grand, sweeping hand motions to emphasize the point. As well as he knew how to, which was well enough for me. If I ever get a boyfriend, they’ll have a lot to live up to. Seems kind of unfair to whatever poor schmuck gets stuck with the task, don’t you think? Considering the two of us never even dated…

“I'm going home tomorrow morning,” you said. The sun was setting, and the two of you were walking along the same stretch of beach that you had first met at. “I finished packing all of my things before dinner. It’s surreal, almost. I feel like an entirely different person now, compared to when I came here.”

“Is that so?” he said, the corners of his lips twitching slightly. “I wonder why.”

“Did you just smile?” you said. Immediately, he scowled.

“No way,” he said. “I’d never smile because of something you said.”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh, you definitely smiled. I made you smile! I made you smile! I made you smile!” you said, poking him in the cheek repeatedly. Sae’s expressions were so subtle that it was easy to overlook them before they had vanished, but there was no overlooking what you had just seen. He had definitely smiled at you, or at least he had been about to.

“Stop poking me,” he grumbled.

“No,” you said, poking him again. “Only if you smile again.”

“Hell no,” he said. You poked his cheek again. “Y/N. Stop it.”

“Will you miss me?” you said.

“Not if you don’t quit that!” he said, grabbing your wrist when you prepared to poke him again. Heat rose to your cheeks at the way his thumb rested against your pulse, and when he realized he was holding your hand so familiarly, his own cheeks flushed. “No. I won’t.”

“I’ll miss you,” you said, digging your feet into the sand, turning out to the sea because you couldn’t stand to look at him when you were being so vulnerable. “I’ll tell everyone I know about you, of course, but it won’t be the same. Something funny will happen, and I’ll think to myself, oh, Sae would’ve snorted at that — but not laughed, because you don’t laugh. Or I’ll order shitty French fries, and it’ll remind me of how much you’d scold me for eating them. You’d say something like, those are basically heart attacks in a box, and then you’d pour a bottle of salted kombucha down my throat to cleanse my system.”

Somewhere in the distance, a seagull squawked, reminding you of the fateful encounter from so long ago. You wished you could go back and get to know Sae all over again. You wished you could ask him the same questions and not know the answers, so that you were surprised when he told them to you. You wished you could argue with him for a little bit longer. You wished that, one more time, you could imply he was short and ugly and slow and a thousand other rude adjectives, even if he was really none of those things, none of them at all.

“I’m going to ask you one last question, okay?” you said. “Please think over your answer carefully. It’s important.”

“Okay,” he said, uncharacteristically gently. “I’ll really consider it well.”

“What’s your favorite animal?” you said.

“Seagulls,” he said immediately, directly contradicting his solemn oath. You laughed at this, burying your face in your hands to hide the hitch in your throat.

“You traitor,” you said. “You know all about the feud between seagulls and I, and yet you’re still claiming they’re your favorites?”

“They always have been,” he said. “I like migratory birds, how they don’t stay in one place but are always moving around. It must be such a blissful life.”

“But it’s probably pretty lonely, too,” you said. “They don’t have anywhere to call home.”

“I like lonely things,” he said. “That’s why the end of the summer is my favorite season.”

“Hm,” you said. “Then, if I tell you that I’ll be lonely once I leave here, will you like me, too?”

He looked at you, but you stared resolutely ahead, your gaze trained on the horizon, the way his had been on the day you had run into him. It was such a kiddish question, and internally, you were beating yourself up for asking it, but deep down, you wanted to know, so you did not move to retract it.

“Well, I like seagulls for a different reason now,” he said.

So that was your answer, then. The waves crashed against the shore, and a balmy wind blew through your hair and clothes, carrying the light scent of Sae’s cologne to your nose, the same one he had worn for as long as you could remember.

“I understand,” you said.

“These days, it’s a specific seagull I’m fond of, actually,” he said.

“Huh? Like a breed or something?” you said.

“No, just one bird in particular,” he said. “It did me a really huge favor recently.”

“What are you talking about? You always say that you suspect I was dropped on the head as a baby, but between the two of us, I think the one that was dropped was you,” you said, the fraying ends of your rejected feelings driving you to irascibility.

“A while ago, I was standing on the beach, feeling pretty annoyed with the world — as usual,” he said. “I had had to run from the paparazzi in order to go on this vacation without being bothered, you know, and I honestly was starting to question if I’d ever be seen as a normal person. I get that the only thing I’m good at is soccer, but it’s pretty tiring to be thought of as a guy who kicks balls around and nothing more.”

Unbidden, you inhaled sharply, because the story was starting to sound familiar. Spinning on your heel, you were met with the sight of Sae smiling shyly, peering down at you through his unfairly long eyelashes.

“That seagull must’ve known how I was feeling. There’s no other explanation for it all. It must’ve known how I was feeling, and somehow, it managed to find the one person in the entire world that saw me as something other than that. Do you know what it did next? It stole that person’s sandwich, and it led her right to me,” he said.

“Are you talking about me?” you said.

“How many people do you think have called me a short, ugly, D-list celebrity instead of asking for my autograph upon meeting me?” he said.

“Probably not very many,” you said. He chuckled.

“Probably not any,” he said. You rested your forehead against his shoulder.

“Probably not,” you said. He stroked your hair, though his motions were like a marionette’s — he was not very used to this type of relationship, after all. But he was trying his best, and you found that to be far more endearing than any suave gestures might’ve been.

“I know you have to go soon, so I was planning on not saying anything,” he said. “What would be the point? I figured this was just a summer fling for you. But then you had to go and be all sentimental, and I had to say something.”

“I’m glad you did,” you said. “It would’ve been worse if I had returned home without knowing at all. Where do we go from here, though?”

“Where do we go from here? Let me think. Well, I’ll ask you to be my girlfriend,” he said. “And you’ll say yes, because who would ever reject me? Then we’ll talk on the phone every day, and you can send me photos of things you find funny, and I’ll have a sixth sense for when you’re eating French fries and I’ll send you strongly worded texts in reprimand. You’ll fly over to watch my matches whenever possible, and when I’m on my next break, I’ll come visit you and meet your family and friends properly.”

“Getting a little presumptuous, aren’t we? What if I say no?” you said.

“Will you?” he said.

“Not sure. How about you ask and find out?” you said.

“If you’re going to say no, then I don’t want to,” he said. You stuck your tongue out at him.

“I can’t be with a man who’s afraid of rejection. It was nice knowing you, Sae,” you said. “See you around. Hope you lose the Champions League.”

“Wait! I’m not afraid of rejection,” he said. “Y/N, will you be my girlfriend? Officially, I mean.”

“Yes, of course,” you said. “But you’re going to have to buy my plane tickets if you want me to watch you. Even with frequent flier miles, I doubt I can afford coming to see you that often.”

“Consider it done,” he said. You grinned at him.

“You know, if you’re my boyfriend, then you’re going to have to keep paying for our dates, as well. My mother said that’s the gentlemanly thing for you to do,” you said.

“Right, I was expecting that,” he said. “Don’t you think there’s a reason why I haven’t let you buy anything yet?”

“Then how am I ever supposed to apologize to you for the circumstances of our first meeting? I mean, I was pretty harsh,” you said.

“That’s true,” he said. “Let me think.”

“Mhm,” you said. “I know that that’s out of your comfort zone, so I’ll give you a minute.”

“I have an idea,” he said, though it was accompanied by a slight glare at your jab.

“What is it?” you said.

“Close your eyes,” he said. You obliged, squeezing them shut, though not without widening your feet into the defensive stance he had demonstrated to you on the day he had attempted to teach you basic soccer skills.

“What are you going to do, tackle me or something? I’m using the position you taught me, but please be gentle, you’re way more muscular than—!”

You were cut off by him pressing his lips to yours. It was a soft kiss, gentle and light, like feathers in the air or water against the sand, and he pulled away before you could really react or reciprocate. He had left you wanting, and you knew he knew that, because there was a smugness to his voice when he spoke next.

“Apology accepted,” he said as you blinked at him in shock, your mind still lagging well behind your body. “Now we’re even.”

“Hold on,” you said. “I’m suddenly feeling very repentant and remorseful. Are you quite sure you forgive me with just that?”

He laughed. It was such a lovely sound, his laugh, and you would’ve told him so if you weren’t afraid that he’d stop when you pointed it out.

“Maybe not,” he said. “You might have to apologize a bit more.”

“That sounds doable,” you said. “Yeah, I might be able to work that in. It’ll be agonizing, but a wise man once told me that that’s just the nature of apologizing, so it’s the least I can do, right?”

“Oh, shut up,” he said, holding your face in his hands and leaning in. You did the same, your eyes closing all on their own as you sought out the connection he had deprived you of earlier.

As the sun set over the horizon and the seagulls settled in for the night, he kissed you again.

Hostess| Kyoya Ootori x reader

Part nine - Test of courage

Pairing : Kyoya Ootori x reader

Word Count : 4k

General rating : Fluff, enemies to love vibes

Summary: As only heir to your family you are bound to an arranged marriage with the third son of the powerful house Ootori. His cold behavior is only a mask for you to uncover when you stumble into music room number three.

You let out a long and bored sigh as you look at a blank paper in front of you. Tamaki assigned you to write ideas for the Halloween event the Host Club wants to host, but your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss and how eager Kyoya was and then returned to pretending you were just classmates. You were angry and yet… You only wanted him to kiss you all over again. 

It was infuriating. No. He was. 

“What about a cult of vampires thirsty for the blood of their guests.” Tamaki explodes as if he found the best idea of all time. Ew. Blood, no thanks. 

“This sounds too erotic even for us.” You chuckle. 

“Well, you haven’t written anything on that paper so I’m giving you some ideas to make that brain of yours work.” He chuckles while patting the top of your hair. 

The door busted open with the twins and Haruhi glued to their side. Kaoru spoke up first. “For the entire week, count us out.”

The mortifying expression on Tamaki’s face made you hold back a laugh. “What do you mean “us”? Why is Haruhi going with you?”

“We have a tournament on Halloween night, a test of courage.” She mumbles as if she thought it was the dumbest idea, it might as well be.

“And she is on our team.” Hikaru snickers. “She is in our class, afterall.” They both dramatically turn around and leave.

“Does this mean we cancel our event?” You ask quite eagerly for Tamaki’s response.

“This means we are going to participate in their little tournament.” His gaze never leaves the trio of second years. You grunt loudly. 

Tamaki’s genius plan was in preparation while you sat on a bench drinking tea with Mori. Your leg was bouncing rapidly out of anxiety.

“You seem tense.” Kyoya said, his eyes still focused on his computer screen. “I can smell the tension steaming.”

“Ew.” You scoff. “I'm not tense," you retorted.

“What's bothering you then? Are you scared?" Tamaki chuckled.

“No, I just don't see the point in scaring people," you mumbled.

Honey took a seat beside you and flashed a bright smile. “It's not just about that. You have a lot of candies too!"

“That's a valid point," you conceded. "While you two brilliant minds work on your plan, I'll make my exit. I've got some personal matters to attend to."

“Why's that?" Kyoya asked abruptly, turning his gaze towards you.

“It's not something you need to worry about," you replied with a quick smile before making your way out of the music room. In truth, you weren't busy at all; all your studies and homework were already completed. You simply wished to avoid the Halloween preparations. As you strolled through the school, you sought out an empty music room where you could indulge in a bit of cello before the next class.

After leaving the music room, you headed down the corridor in search of an empty space to practice your cello. As you walked, you couldn't help but overhear snippets of excited chatter from various students discussing the Halloween preparations. It seemed that the Host Club's Halloween event was generating quite a buzz.

Finally, you found an empty and peaceful practice room. You entered and set up your cello, finding comfort in the familiar strains of the instrument. As you began to play, the hauntingly beautiful melody filled the room, creating a serene atmosphere that provided a stark contrast to the bustling excitement of Halloween preparations.

Unbeknownst to you, a familiar figure from the Host Club had been silently trailing you. Haruhi, who had been observing your interactions with the other members, had sensed your need for a break from the chaotic festivities. She had followed you discreetly, understanding that you preferred solitude.

Leaning against the doorframe, Haruhi listened to your enchanting music. The sound of the cello captivated her, and she was moved by the depth of emotion in your playing. She watched you with a soft smile, appreciating the chance to see a different side of you.

When you eventually finished your piece, you turned to find Haruhi standing there, a gentle and understanding look in her eyes. She didn't say anything, but her presence was enough to convey her support and empathy.

“Be ready, Tamaki is taking part in your Tournament.”

She smiles. “This means you will as well?”

“Obviously.” You snort. 

With that, the two of you spent a little more time chatting, and finding common ground amidst the chaos of the Host Club's Halloween preparations. It was a welcome and unexpected connection that brought a sense of calm to an otherwise hectic day.

On Halloween night

You entered the ball room and noticed the dark ambiance. In the middle you could see makeup and costumes ready to be worn. 

You sigh. “Did you really ask the occult club to help us?” 

“They are professionals afterall.” Tamaki says proudly. “Who else but the Occult Club to know what is scary or not?” He had a fair point. 

You were grabbed by two girls and forced to sit down on a chair. You couldn’t protest before their work started. They Had their makeup brushes ready with pink and white paint. “It’s too late to say no, right?” You ask anyone before the first stroke of white paint touches your skin. At the same time the other girl worked over your hair. Two pigtails wrapped in red ribbons. It felt like forever until you could see yourself in the mirror. You were going to be a creepy little creepy lolitta doll.

“Good god.” You scoff as you look at yourself with your regular uniform, you look silly. 

“Do you not like it?” Nekozawa asked in a grim tone. To be fair, you were a bit freaked out by him and so you lied.

“I love it. I’m just not used to it.” You smile as best as you can, but you look creepy nonetheless. 

“Good!” He smiles. Even if he was happy, his smile was creepy. “We got the perfect costume to fit with your marvelous character. “The cursed doll!” It was like thunder cracked at the same time he spoke those very words. 

You looked in the mirror and couldn't help but feel that you appeared terrifying – and not in a good way. The worn-out pink and white puffy dress you wore was splattered with fake blood in a chaotic pattern. You imagined your mother would have a heart attack if she saw you in this outfit.

Emerging from the dressing room, you joined your Host Club friends in the ballroom. Tamaki, in his dashing vampire costume, looked unfairly handsome. Mori and Honey, dressed as a pair of werewolves straight out of a telenovela, exuded a certain charm. Kyoya, on the other hand, had chosen not to dress up.

With a stoic expression, you couldn't help but voice your frustration. "I hate you guys."

"Don't you look terrifying?" Kyoya quipped with a barely suppressed laugh.

You glared at him. "And don't you guys look cute?"

"Do you think so?" Honey's smile was radiant.

"Why am I the only one overdressed?" You grumbled.

Tamaki, wrapping an arm over your shoulders, smiled as he explained, "You are the dessert to our coup."

"I don't think that's a saying," you retorted. He led you out of the ballroom and into a classroom tucked away in the far corner of the school.

"Stay here until Honey gives you the signal. Here's your script," Tamaki said, handing you a crumpled piece of paper before closing the door, leaving you alone in the dark room.

"Ugh, I hate them," you muttered to yourself, closing your eyes and reading the poorly written script. It lacked any real scare factor. Your best bet was to simply scream at anyone who entered the room or adopt a lifeless stare to unnerve them.

As you sat in the dark room, dressed in your creepy Lolita costume, time seemed to crawl by at an agonizingly slow pace. The initial excitement of transforming into a terrifying character had given way to boredom and restlessness. Your once-eager anticipation for your role had faded into a growing sense of impatience.

You began to fidget in your chair, the minutes stretching into what felt like hours. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the occasional distant laughter and muffled voices from the Halloween event outside. The worn-out pink and white dress seemed to constrict your movements, making you acutely aware of how uncomfortable and itchy it had become.

You sighed deeply, shifting your weight from side to side, trying to ease the discomfort of your costume. Your thoughts wandered, and you began to wonder if you were somehow forgotten or if the Host Club's plan had encountered an unexpected delay. The desire for some action or interaction had grown stronger with each passing minute.

Impulsively, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone, checking the time. It had been far longer than you'd expected, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exasperation. To alleviate your boredom, you began scrolling through your phone, reading messages, and checking social media, all while anxiously waiting for Honey's signal to finally break the monotony of your solitary confinement.

The door creaked open and you looked at who it was not bothering to hide back your phone. 

“This is really not your shade.” Kyoya snickers as he enters the room.

“Laugh all you want.” You sigh. He looked at you as if to say “Oh, I am.”, “What are you doing here?”

“Keeping you from dying of boredom.” He took a seat next to you on the floor. 

“My phone was already doing your job.” You chuckle lightly. 

“You really don’t like Halloween, don’t you?”

"Not really, no," you began, reflecting on your past. "When I was a kid, my parents were so busy with their own lives and jobs that they never had time for Halloween, or even Christmas some years. By the time they started to be more present, I just didn't care that much anymore about the holidays."

Kyoya sighed deeply, and you could see his thoughtful expression as he absorbed the glimpse of your personal history.

As the seconds ticked by, you found yourself pondering why you had shared such a personal memory with Kyoya. It wasn't something you typically opened up about, especially not in the midst of a festive occasion like Halloween. Perhaps it was the quiet and the stillness of the room that had encouraged the spontaneous revelation. Or maybe it was Kyoya's ability to make you feel strangely comfortable discussing your past. Regardless of the reason, you couldn't help but wonder why you had chosen to reveal a part of yourself at that moment.

“Then let’s go.” He said as he grabbed your hand to help you out of your creepy chair.

“Where?” 

“I’m going to show you what’s so fun about it.”

Kyoya led you out of the dimly lit room and into the corridor, your hand still in his firm grip. You followed him through the maze-like hallways of the school, unsure of what to expect.

As you moved stealthily through the school, you couldn't help but have reservations about this endeavor. The idea of scaring people had never really appealed to you, and you had doubts about whether it would be as fun as the others made it out to be. But you trusted Kyoya's judgment, and his air of confidence piqued your curiosity.

The two of you took positions in a dimly lit hallway, concealed behind a corner, waiting for your next victim. Your heart raced as you watched a student approaching, completely unaware of your presence.

In perfect coordination, you and Kyoya executed your plan. As the student drew nearer, you let out a spine-chilling, ghostly wail while Kyoya produced an eerie, spectral light using a concealed flashlight. The student, taken aback and startled, screamed in terror before realizing it was all a prank.

At first, you watched with mixed emotions, uncertain of how the student would react. But as the initial shock and fear gave way to laughter and amusement, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and satisfaction. Giggling uncontrollably, you and Kyoya shared in the joy of the moment.

You and Kyoya ventured further into the school, your Lolita doll costume taking on a new persona with each scare. The initial uncertainty you had felt had given way to a sense of exhilaration and a growing enthusiasm for the Halloween shenanigans.

As you reached a more crowded area of the school, you couldn't resist the temptation to continue your mischief. You spotted a group of students engrossed in conversation and laughter, unaware of your presence. Kyoya nodded at you, signaling that this was your next target.

You approached the group with a silent grace, the ruffled layers of your dress swaying as you moved. As you got closer, you unleashed a spine-tingling, ghostly whisper that seemed to echo through the corridor. Simultaneously, Kyoya, hidden in the shadows, conjured a ghostly blue glow that danced eerily around you.

The students, caught off guard by the sudden otherworldly presence, let out a collective gasp and huddled together in fear. A few of them even dropped their belongings in their fright.

You couldn't help but stifle a giggle as you watched their terrified reactions. Some clutched their hearts, while others playfully scolded each other for overreacting. The initial shock gave way to laughter, and you realized that this was the essence of Halloween – a blend of fear and fun.

One of the students, a young girl, turned to you with a mixture of relief and amusement. "That was a good one! You really got us."

You gave a mischievous curtsy, your creepy Lolita persona adding to the theatrics of the moment. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

As you and Kyoya roamed the dimly lit corridors, you noticed a locked door at the end of a long hallway, illuminated only by the faint light of a flickering overhead bulb. It seemed like the perfect setting for a dramatic and hair-raising Halloween scare.

With a shared nod, you and Kyoya decided to orchestrate a chilling performance. You took your position near the door, hidden in the shadows, your Lolita doll costume transformed into a ghostly and eerie presence.

Kyoya, meanwhile, prepared to unleash his talents. With a quick flourish of his hand, he projected a series of ghostly images on the door, each one more terrifying than the last. The ghostly apparitions danced and flickered, accompanied by spine-tingling whispers that filled the air.

Unsuspecting students rounded the corner and came into view, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. As they approached the locked door, they spotted the ghostly figures and heard the haunting whispers. Panic washed over them, and they let out a chorus of terrified screams.

In their panic, the students stumbled over each other, desperately searching for an escape route. Some of them turned and ran back the way they came, while others frantically pounded on the locked door, pleading for it to open. The once-crowded hallway turned into a scene of chaotic terror.

You and Kyoya couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline as the students fled in sheer panic, their fear evident in their eyes. It was the ultimate Halloween scare, and you had succeeded beyond your wildest expectations.

As the commotion gradually subsided and the corridor returned to a state of calm, you exchanged an exhilarated glance with Kyoya. The dramatic scare had left a lasting impression, and you both couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

You finally got what made this activity so enjoyable, and you couldn't help but share a knowing smile with Kyoya as you continued to haunt the hallways together.

As your Halloween night of spooking students continued, Kyoya approached you with an excited glint in his eyes. "How about a grand finale?" he suggested, a mischievous smile on his face. Curious and eager to embrace the festive spirit, you nodded in agreement. "What do you have in mind?" Kyoya explained his plan, which involved a grand scare that would target none other than the notorious twins with Haruhi. It was an enticing proposition, and you both set off to make it happen.

You ran around the school to find the trio and once you did they were walking to their next trap, you.

You began to move in a slow, puppet-like manner, as if controlled by unseen strings, your joints bending unnaturally, your movements otherworldly. You swayed with an eerie grace, creating an atmosphere of surreal horror.

At the same time, Kyoya cast an illusion of ghostly whispers and phantom shadows that danced around you. The effect was haunting and mesmerizing, and the corridor seemed to take on a life of its own.

The twins and Haruhi watched, transfixed by the chilling performance. Hikaru and Kaoru exchanged uneasy glances, and Haruhi clutched her heart in mock fear.

As the performance reached its climax, you let out another spine-chilling wail, your voice echoing through the corridor. The twins were quite uneasy with you as for Haruhi, she held back a laugh to not mess up your performance. They weren’t moving until you stopped abruptly before sprinting for them, making them run away from you leaving Haruhi alone with you. 

“Too bad I wasn’t convincing enough to scare you.” You laugh with Haruhi.

“I do not scare easily.” She says drying her tears of laughter. Kyoya came out of hiding and applauded you. 

“I didn’t think you’d enjoy yourself that much.” He smiles brightly. A first.

“All thanks to the brains behind the operation.” You applauded him as well.

Later that night as you were taking out your makeup with Renge and Haruhi’s help, the winners were announced by Nekozawa. You were declared the champion of the Tournament!

Gasps of astonishment filled the room as the Host Club members realized the outcome. Hikaru and Kaoru exchanged surprised glances.

"You weren't even participating!" Kaoru exclaimed.

You smirked, "You guys are just sore losers."

Hikaru chimed in, "You're not even a second-year!"

Kyoya, however, simply leaned against a wall with a wry smile. "All I hear is whining from two losers."

You couldn't help but giggle at the banter among your friends, sharing a victorious moment.

After finally shedding the uncomfortable Lolita costume and wiping away the last remnants of makeup, you found yourself alone in the cozy embrace of the music room. The echoes of the Halloween festivities still resonate in your mind, but the overwhelming discomfort of the costume had been left far behind.

Sitting in the dimly lit room, you reflected on the night, your thoughts filled with gratitude for Kyoya. His unexpected and thrilling proposal to embrace the Halloween spirit had transformed a dull evening into a genuinely enjoyable one. You couldn't help but smile as you remembered how he had dragged you into the world of scares and pranks, and in doing so, had shared a unique and memorable experience with you.

The Halloween night had been a perfect blend of fright and fun, of camaraderie and laughter, and it was all thanks to Kyoya's initiative. As you sat in the peaceful music room, you realized that sometimes, the most unexpected and unconventional plans could lead to the best and most cherished memories.

"All hail the champion," a voice echoed in the empty room, and there stood Kyoya, the unexpected partner in your Halloween scare victory.

You couldn't resist a teasing grin. "Only a bow and some praise will do for your champion."

He walked over, the atmosphere filled with a mix of playful competition and genuine camaraderie. His smile was cocky as he leaned against the side of the column.

"So, do I get a prize for helping you win?" he inquired, his voice tinged with a playful challenge.

You responded with a smug grin, "It's my name they announced, not yours, so I'm afraid you don't get anything."

Kyoya leaned in closer, his smile seeming somewhat wistful. "I did help you win, though. I should get something."

With a soft laugh, you placed a hand on his arm and said, "You get the honor of witnessing your fiancé's majestic victory."

The two of you shared a moment of contentment and affection, the playful banter masking the fondness you felt for each other. It was a celebration of your Halloween success and the unique bond you shared.

“I want something else as my prize.” He smirks.

He acted on his impulses, seizing you by the waist and pressing you firmly against the column. His lips met yours with a passionate intensity, a bruising kiss that left you breathless, and you gasped in surprise at the sudden, fervent connection.

His tongue tantalizing teased your bottom lip, seeking entry, and you willingly granted it. Your heads tilted in unison, and one of his hands found its way to the back of your neck, gently bending it to deepen the kiss. A throaty moan escaped your lips as his other hand on your hip squeezed you possessively.

For a brief moment, he pulled back, his breath hot against your skin, and he whispered with a mixture of desire and frustration, "You always manage to pick the worst timing to drive me so, so eager for you."

His lips trailed a scorching path down your cheek, following the delicate curve of your jawline. Each touch was an electric shock of sensation, sending shivers down your spine as the world around you seemed to blur, consumed by the fervent desire shared in this stolen moment.

“Don’t I?” You chuckled briefly. “It just means I’m winning.”

“How so?” He asks not to bother to stop his lips from connecting to your skin. 

“You want to hear my master plan?”

“Do enlighten me.” His soft laugh lights a fire inside your stomach. 

“The more you resist me, the more you want me… Have you noticed how close we’ve become in the last few days?” He stops himself in his tracks to look at you in the eyes with intrigue. “I am winning.”

“Must everything be a competition between the two of us?”

“To get what we both deeply want, it is not an option.”

“And what is it I want?” He smirks as if he could read you all too well. 

“You don’t want to marry me for love and some other reason you refuse to talk about and I don’t want to get married at all, but duty is duty. But you do want me, which makes things complicated for us.” You breathe heavily when his teeth graze the skin of your neck. “So let’s meet in the middle. We can either keep denying each other’s needs and go our separate ways to college hoping to find better matches for us so we both marry for love, duty and what not, or we can give in and have our fun until college and then we find better matches. So you don’t have to marry me and you’ll be out of my hair. Two simple choices, one clearly more fun than the other, but riskier.”

He chuckles when he faces you again. “How so?”

“You’ll fall in love.” No, you would.

“With you?” He chuckles. “You’re pretty to look at, sure, but you get on my nerves too much for me to fall in love.” 

“I gave you our options, it’s your choice. In a way I am not replacing you like you asked.” He crashed his lips to yours, his very own way to seal their deal.

“I won’t lose to you, y/n.” He whispered before his lips met yours once more. 

“Neither will I.” You moan against his lips before you were picked up and carried on one of the pink velvet couches. He pried your pants off gently as his lips were still glued to yours. It was happening… You’d finally have Kyoya the way you wanted him ever since last time he kissed you. 

He moved between your thighs and took his sweet time to kiss and nimble on both of them. 

“You always assume I have better self control than I actually do.” He whispers before taking your underwear off. “I’m no better than any other man when it comes to you.” He smirks before dipping his head between your thighs. You huffed out a loud moan when he licked a stripe up your folds, before plunging his tongue right into your dripping heat. You snatched at his head, pulling his hair as your hips shifted against him— his nose nudging your clit.

He moaned against your cunt— the vibrations making that coil in your stomach tighten. He squeezed your thighs, running his tongue up your folds and swirling it around your clit, repeating this action a few times. You felt like you were in a dream, Kyoya pleasing you as a reward for your victory... or for his own pleasure. It didn't matter, he had accepted your deal and you were more than happy to give in to the tension between the two of you.

You felt yourself drawing tight, a thin sheen of sweat gathering across your bare skin. “Kyoya—” You came with a moan of his name, your hips stuttering against his face. You felt him groan beneath you, tongue working you through your orgasm.

After a long moment, Kyoya hovered over you. You smiled hazily at him. He hummed, pressing his mouth to yours. You couldn't believe what had just happened.

You could taste yourself on his lips, his tongue. You hummed a response, too busy stroking his cheek, feeling your own arousal sticky on your fingers. He pulled back briefly. “I won’t lose to you.” He repeated like it was an oath and you believed him for a split second.

➵ you’re so vain -> l.hs

⚠︎ smut (mdni)

✎ jock!heeseung x reader, enemies to ?????, heeseung is rlly annoying, hate sex ;), hair pulling, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation, backshots lmao. i think that’s it?

summary: attending a new school was supposed to be a fresh start for you, trying to be nice to everyone and have new friends, yet coming across lee heeseung threw all of that out the window.

(heeseung x fem.reader)

wc: 3.2k

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your sweaty hands could not be gripping the steering wheel any harder. you wouldn’t call yourself “super shy” but when it comes to a whole new community of people, teenagers, hell yeah you are.

you had to move exactly at the middle of the year due to your mom’s work. they offered her double the salary at the other side of the city, who was she to say no to that? although you were going to miss your friends and the overall environment of your old home, you couldn’t just tell your mom ‘no’, either way her decisions are final.

you just got here two days ago, and to be honest, it wasn’t that bad. the worst thing so far is the fact that the nearest shopping center was 30 minutes away but you’ll live.

you didn’t except your first day of school to be so nerve-wracking. surely you’ll make some friends but who knows what people are like here. eventually, you saw the big navy blue sign with your school’s name on it. it was an averagely big school, bigger than your old one, which also meant more people.

the parking space alone was scary. it was huge yet already full even though it was still fairly early. you went around in circles around the parking lot, trying to find a vacant spot. fortunately you did at the second-to-last line.

as you tried to park, the limited space you had made it difficult to, having to back up and drive in constantly. as you reversed your car, you must have completely forgotten that you aren’t the only one there, feeling a small crash at the bumper of your car.

your eyes widened in panic. you looked back to see what you hit, and with your luck, it revealed at very nice black car, to which you’ve just hit. you tried to quickly get into your parking spot, hoping it was nothing serious, but then someone came walking up to you.

‘shit, that must be the owner’ you saw his red, rather handsome, fuming face.

you got out of your car to confront the first person interaction.

“hey look im so-“

“CANT YOU FUCKING DRIVE RIGHT? YOU HIT MY VERY EXPENSIVE CAR WITH YOUR THING, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”

oh he was an asshole. you almost scoffed in his face. who does he think he is.

“it was accident that’s all, it was barely a scratch calm down man.”

“IT WAS DEFINITELY A SCRATCH LOOK AT IT! JUST BECAUSE YOU KEEP YOUR CAR LOOKING ALL MISERABLE DOESNT MEAN I WILL, DO YOU EVEN HAVE A LICENSE?”

lord take me back. you were so close to just leaving him there arguing with himself. but you didn’t want to make him even angrier.

“look im sorry! i can pay for the fix up if that’s what you want, i dont know what else to do?”

the boy scoffed and rolled his eyes at your statement.

“you think i don’t have the money for it? please, it shows you’re a newbie around here.”

“i didn’t mean it like that-“

“yo heeseung!! come on bro!” another blonde boy called from afar, hopefully ending the argument y’all were having.

“ watch your back new girl.” with one last glare, he left to join his group of friends.

you rolled your eyes. shiver my fucking timbers, you thought.

you took a deep breath before grabbing your backpack and making your way into school , hoping to never see his face ever again.

>>

you thought that was going to be the end of it all. but oh boy were you wrong. soon you found out that heeseung is the captain of the football team, and pretty much the most popular boy in school. as cliche as it sounds, every girl would drop their panties if he asked them to.

people know he’s not the nicest person ( an asshole) yet they still look up to him. that’s angered you. how are all these people so dumb? just because he’s kinda good-looking? seriously?

over the course of a few weeks, you’ve managed to make some friends, your closest taehyun and Isa. although you tried to block the negativity, heeseung made it really hard. always giving you snarky comments when he saw you around, ridiculing you in front of other people. somehow always finding a way to run into you despite not having any classes together. except gym.

“ bro open your eyes, catch the damn ball!” he yelled from across from you.

you hated sports. even less could you play one, but you gotta do it for the grade.

“the ball was too high up dummy!” you retorted, rolling your eyes for maybe the 100th time in the class period.

if you hated gym before, you definitely hated it more now.

as the period ended, you decided to take a quick shower in the locker rooms since you couldn’t handle being all sweaty and gross throughout the day.

heeseung finished changing and was outside the locker room with his friends, chatting, waiting for the bell to ring. that’s when he may have accidentally eavesdropped the conversation between your two friends, he could barely the names of.

“where’s _____?” taehyun asked isa, noticing how you weren’t with her.

“she’s taking a shower right now, she told us to not wait for her.” Isa shrugged before taehyun nodded.

a beautiful idea popped in heeseung’s brain. it was too good.

he excused himself and sneakily waited by the girl’s locker room, waiting for everyone to come out. once he only heard the shower you were using running, he quietly entered the room. the bell had rang about a minute ago, so the gym was empty, only you and him. the gym teacher god knows where.

he saw his target and rapidly grabbed the pile of clothes sitting on the bench, a smirk evident in his face.

suddenly the shower stopped running, making heeseung hurry and exit the locker room.

the shower felt too good, you think you spent more time that you anticipated to. as you exited the shower tiles, you looked around for your clothes, which you remember clearly leaving them in the bench closest to the shower. you looked around the whole locker room, hoping you were wrong and placed them elsewhere. unfortunately, you couldn’t even find your damn socks.

your biggest fear has come true. you’re now naked, nothing but a towel covering you, this was more than just humiliating. you felt sad, mad, angry, embarrassed all at once. they’ve been stolen for sure, and you were more than sure on who did it.

grabbing your phone you called Isa, to see if she could help you somehow. and she indeed did. bringing you some spare clothes she had. thankfully, you always bring extra underwear since situations like these could happen. you just had to wait for isa for the clothes, yet the five minutes she took felt like five hours. unfortunately, passing period is over, meaning some students are coming in the locker room to change.

many of them just straight up stared at you. giving you weird looks as to why you were pretty much naked in the middle of the locker room, but none had the guts to ask you.

you wished the ground would just swallow you whole. lee heeseung won’t hear the end of it.

“LEE HEESEUNG!” you yelled across the field. he and his friends were siting down eating lunch outside when you spotted him after trying to find him after the stunt he just pulled.

heeseung knew it was coming, giggling with his friends as they heard you yell his name once again. “ oh she’s about to scold me now .” heeseung scoffed but still got up and went over to you.

“yes ma’am?” he said with a smile, you wish you could slap off but you’re better than that.

“YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID DO YOU KNOW HOW EMBARRASSING THAT WAS?”

“i have no idea what you’re talking about..” heeseung tried acting innocent but failed as he just burst out laughing. you groaned, how on earth is that funny?

“cute panties by the way” he continued to laugh, not sparing a glance at your mad expression on your face.

“you’re such an ass, i hate your guts.” you said leaving him alone, laughing to himself.

“yo bro i think she actually got mad this time.” his friend, jake came over.

heeseung shrugged. “she’s so sensitive, it wasn’t even that bad.”

“i can’t believe he did that…” taehyun said as you told them both what had happened. Isa knew a little bit but not who did it.

“that’s fucked up, what’s he got against you so much?”

you shrugged. “i guess because i gave his car a little scratch, but i guess he took it to heart since he hasn’t stopped bothering me since. he’s a jerk.”

“finally someone who thinks the same as me!” taehyun said making you chuckle.

“then get back at him! you know the one thing that makes him who he is is that damn football.” Isa said.

you tried to be the bigger person this whole time, not paying much mind to his little remarks or pranks he pulls, biting back a little wouldn’t hurt right?

“you know what, you’re right.”

“lee heeseung, mrs. park wants to speak to you.” mr.jung said calling heeseung.

heeseung who was barely paying attention heard his name. his frowned at this. what on earth could she want to talk about with him? either way, he went to her classroom.

he entered the empty classroom to find his coach and mrs.park, waiting for him. what the fuck? heeseung was more confused now. maybe they were going to congratulate him for the good work this semester? his coach’s face said otherwise though.

“there you are, you may be wondering why you’re here..” mrs.park started. heeseung nodded, feeling uneasy.

“a student came forward, showing how you copied word for word her whole assignment, the one i assigned a week ago. i didn’t notice it at first but it’s very clear now, you may know how cheating is unacceptable in my class, i’ve decided to fail you in this assignment, plus you’ll be serving detention this whole week..” she turned to the coach.

heeseung’s heart started beating at a rapid pace, he’s never been caught cheating, and being failed on the assignment that was a big part of his grade, it means he’s most likely failing the class now. the rules for football stated that all players should be passing all of their classes if not, they’ll be dropped….

no no no, the lee heeseung can’t be dropped. he’s the captain! the star player!

“since you’re failing this class heeseung, i think you know what’s about to happe-“

“please coach! don’t kick me out, i’m the captain! what would the team do without me? i’ll get my grade up as soon as possible im-“

“calm down calm down, i’m not going to kick you out, it’s the middle of the season, but unfortunately you won’t be playing the next three games. if your grade is not up by then, then i will drop you. understood?” his coach stated earning a sharp nod by heeseung.

he’s glad he’s still on the team but what’s the point if he can’t play? he’s going to become a joke. the captain that’s a bench warmer. how stupid.

he left the classroom enraged. he knows exactly who did this.

“bro what? what do you mean you ain’t gonna play ?” riki said in disbelief at what his captain just said.

“some snitch told mrs.park that i cheated on the last assignment and coach suspended me for the next three games, and i got detention all week!” sunghoon unknowingly chuckled. heeseung looked at him with a glare.

“what? she got you good, what did you expect hee?” sunghoon kept laughing, making some of the others also laugh silently.

heeseung had nothing to say back, he just rolled his eyes. “tch, whatever.”

nevertheless, you were overjoyed seeing heeseung slouching on the bench. you couldn’t miss this once in a lifetime scenario. obviously you were the cause for it. heeseung asks Isa almost all the time for her notes or to straight up copy her. she willingly let you rat him out after what he did to you.

he can sense how all eyes were on him, but he just tried to block everyone out a focus on the game. he had a poker face on, but deep inside he was irritated . he saw how you were smirking and laughing with your two little friends. you knew what you were doing.

>>

“ahh look who it is, the benchwarmer! “ you said chuckling as you made your way to heeseung.

after the team (barely) won, jake threw an ‘after party’ at his house. even though you don’t normally go to these parties, especially from those boys, you felt like a party would do good with your marvellous mood. something about seeing heeseung’s frowny face made feel over the moon.

“seems like cat got your tongue now huh? dont have anything to say-“

in a blink of an eye you were pulled into a room, heeseung’s fingers wrapped around your neck, pulling your face closer to his.

“what the fuck? heeseung-“

“shut the fuck up.” his hoarse voice caught you off guard. he was actually really mad.

“you think what you did it’s fucking funny? huh? almost getting me kicked out ? “ you’ve never seen him this enraged before. making you almost scared, yet….kinda turned on? no, you hate him, snap out of it! you told yourself yet the wetness in between your legs became hard to ignore.

you didn’t respond. “fuck, you’re so annoying, i can’t fucking stand you. i hate you.” he saw lowly. fuck that was hot.

you spoke before thinking. “then show me.”

not needing to tell him twice, heeseung pulled you completely in. your lips met in a kiss that was anything but gentle, a fierce and consuming clash that spoke longing and raw need.

The kiss deepened, fueled by an unspoken urgency, their mouths exploring each other with a fervor that left y’all breathless. his grip on your neck becoming tighter.

“shit im gonna show you to fucking behave.” he said before pushing you into the bed forcefully. you may have discovered a new kink of yours. watching as he undressed himself and yourself rapidly. feeling his anger through every touch he gave you.

he rubbed through your folds before inserting two fingers aggressively. your body jolted at the sudden move.

“holy shit go softer dumbass.”

“aw you think i give a fuck? suck it up and take it since you think you’re all that.” his fingers pumped faster and faster making it hard for you to answer back to his stupid remarks.

“oh my god..” you tried to pull his hand away before you cum. not wanting to see you orgasm so easily yet.

“just fuck me already heeseung, or is your dick as tiny as your brain?”

heeseung looked darkly at you. that stupid mouth of yours can’t shut up will it?

he retracted his fingers put of you and took his boxers off. wanting nothing more than to prove you wrong.

shit. your eyes went wide at what stood in front of you. saying he was big was an understatement. it was like a zipper for your mouth. how was that thing going to fit inside of you?

“can’t say anything now, can you slut?” he pulled your legs down the mattress to have you at the perfect angle to ram into you.

heeseung ran his til over your folds, teasing his way in. making you aggrevated.

“just put it in for fucks sake!”

“tell me how bad you want it.” you shook your head, no way were you going to beg. no way.

“alright then, i guess im gonna go.” he said letting go of your waist, acting as if he was going to leave.

“okay okay! please fuck me, i want it so bad, i want your big cock so bad heeseung.” heeseung moaned at your words. he didn’t wait any longer and thrusted all of him in you.

you both moaned yet it was more painful for you. you’ve never had something so big inside you before.

“fuck yeah..” he said then grabbing your neck, slightly choking you. your hands went to his biceps, trying to find something to hold on to as the speed he was thrusting in became more hostile.

“fuck me harder, like the asshole you are.” you said in between breaths. heeseung took the challenge and thrusted violently. the skin slapping and wetness of your core could probably be heard in the party outside.

“of course a whore like you would like to be fucked like this.”

before you could respond he pulled out of you earning a desperate groan from you, but then your were flipped, now on all fours and before you knew it he was back in you again. gripping your hip with one hand while he pulled your hair on the other.

“such a tight pussy, you probably fantasized about this am i right?” he said in your ear. you shook your head through your moan.

“in your dreams lee, in your fucking dreams. fuck you.”

“i’m quite literally doing that.” chuckling, he let go of your hair and instead gripped your other hip, going in deeper, nudging your cervix literally driving you to an edge.

“fuck i’m cumming.” you cried out. never has an orgasm felt like this. heeseung was on edge as well, feeling you clench around his dick did it for him.

your climax rose over you, making you fall into the pillow while heeseung kept thrusting until his own organs came over him, pulling out and releasing his white ropes all over your back.

tiredly, he laid besides you in the strangers bed, not knowing what to say now.

you turned to him, smirking. “i think i may hate you even more now.”

🎧 txt as — late night texts!

txt as various late night messages they send to their s/o! | requested via poll!

warnings — suggestive content in taehyun’s, angst in yeonjun & kai’s, swearing, kys used in a joking manner, mentions of kissing, lovesick tubatu

genre — smau, crack, established relationship, fluff

[note] — i have nothing to say for myself... i just want all of them to hold my hand expeditiously. like soobin i'm available anytime!! 🥲

ᰔ yeonjun

ᰔ soobin

ᰔ beomgyu

ᰔ taehyun

ᰔ hueningkai

© GYUMIBEAR. do not repost, modify or translate my work onto other social media sites

Space & Time || P. SH

❀ pairing: roommate!sungho x implied fem!reader

❀ genre: roommates to lovers, college!au, fluff, minor angst

❀ word count: ~6.1k

❀ warnings: explicit language, minor jealousy, literally one implication of queer!sungho

❀ summary: The space that you share with Park Sungho sometimes feels a little too small. In time, the closeness proves to grow into something neither of you can contain. But hey, that's the case for all roommates...right?

❀ a/n: Once again, my writer's block went craaaazy for this piece. I spent so long hating it, but now I actually really love it! I feel like the style is a little different from what I usually do, so I hope you enjoy. As always, likes, reblogs, and replies are encouraged!

masterlist

Truthfully, Park Sungho is the perfect roommate. It doesn’t matter that sometimes he sings a little too loud in the shower because at least his voice is melodious. It doesn’t matter that sometimes he scolds you for leaving a dirty dish out because he laughs with you equally as much. It doesn’t matter that he frequently has his friends over, because they are always polite and include you in every outing. 

Park Sungho is perfect, almost a little too perfect. 

You first start to realize after coming home one night, two years into living together. Your feet are aching from your nice heels and your ears are ringing from the car horns on the street. It’s enough to have you entering your apartment with a sigh, kicking off your heels the minute you can see your welcome mat. 

“You’re home early,” Sungho says as you round the corner, standing up to greet you in that overly respectful manner of his. “How was it?”

The question instantly has tears springing to your eyes, stinging your corneas as if they were poisonous. Sungho is clearly panicked by your change in demeanor, flailing slightly as he approaches. His coos and attempts to shush you just make your tears turn into sobs, throwing your head back as you finally let all of your pent up emotions out. 

“It was horrible,” you hiccup. 

For a moment, Sungho flails once again. But then you’re encased by strong arms, a hand on the back of your head guiding you to lean into an overly wide shoulder. He smells faintly of clean laundry and sea salt, the latter due to the undertone in the cologne he constantly wears. A large hand smooths down the expanse of your exposed back, palms cool against the heat of your skin. You let your tears flow into the cotton of his shirt, feeling comfortable for the first time all night. 

“Come on, let’s sit down.”

Sungho doesn’t let go as the two of you move, waddling your way through your shared apartment. Instead of pulling you down to sit next to him, Sungho gathers you so that you’re seated straddling his lap, face still tucked into his shoulder. It’s an intimate position, far too intimate for mere roommates, but you’re too distracted by your sobs and the feeling of Sungho’s cool hands on your back to care. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sungho coos, voice melodious and overly soft. 

You just shake your head, not trusting your voice. It was simple, actually, why your date went so horribly. One ill-timed glance at his phone revealed a slew of texts from someone saved under the name “wifey.” The man then proceeded to point out all of your insecurities, no doubt comparing you to whoever that contact was. He ended up taking a “work call”, leaving the date early and making you responsible for the hefty bill. 

“That’s fine,” Sungho soothes. “He doesn’t deserve you, anyways. You are such a catch and he doesn’t even know what he’s missing.”

You sniffle slightly, finally moving from your position buried in Sungho’s shoulder. He smiles when the two of you make eye contact, using his thumb to wipe a few stray tears from your cheeks. You’re sure that you look a mess, face ruddy with your makeup in various states of disarray. But the way Sungho is smiling at you makes you feel like the most beautiful person in the world. 

“You’re just saying that because you’re my roommate,” you whisper. 

“I’m saying it because it’s true.”

A moment of silence lingers in the small space between the two of you, with the occasional hiccup interrupting your peace. Sungho’s gaze is too intense, peering into the depths of your eyes. For a moment, you find yourself getting lost in the eye contact, taking note of the deep hue of his irises. It’s only when you feel a slight fluttering in your chest that you snap out of it. 

“I’m going to go shower and get out of these clothes,” you say as you stand, mindful of the way your halter top shifts across your chest. “But maybe we can watch a movie after that?”

Sungho smiles softly. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

Something shifts between you and Sungho after that moment. 

It’s almost as if you’ve both unlocked a deeper level of comfort with each other, making physical contact in ways that you never had before. You spend your movie nights cuddling instead of sitting on opposite ends of the couch. You greet each other with hugs when either of you comes home, Sungho even going as far as to place a kiss on your cheek or forehead in friendly greeting. He’ll place a hand on your lower back as he passes by you in the kitchen, or squeeze your exposed thigh when the two of you are seated next to each other. 

You don’t think much of it, knowing that it’s nothing more than a few friendly touches between roommates. Sungho had seen you at a particularly vulnerable moment, and now seeks to comfort you. There’s nothing wrong with that! Roommates can hold hands in the grocery store and hug each other tightly after a long day. 

It’s how you find yourself snuggled up to Sungho’s side during a movie night, head leaning on his shoulder. It’s one of the few times that the two of you aren’t alone, surrounded by some of Sungho’s closest friends that you equally adore. They sit in various places strewn around the living room, leaving you and Sungho seated alone on the loveseat in the corner. 

About halfway through the movie, Woonhak complains about being hungry, causing a heated debate to erupt about what snacks everyone wanted. Through the commotion, you feel a set of sharp eyes on you. When you look to the side, you find Sanghyuk’s gaze trained on the points where you and Sungho are connected. It’s a simply observational gaze, his eyes holding no hint of judgment as he regards you. But, the intensity of his gaze makes your skin crawl. 

Under Sanghyuk’s scrutiny, you begin to peel yourself away from Sungho’s side. But before you can get far, a hand guides your head to lean back onto his shoulder. A quick glance upwards reveals that Sungho is still in the heated snack debate, not having blinked an eye at your movement. It’s almost as if he moved reflexively, not even having to think about drawing you closer. 

When you look back at Sanghyuk, the boy is smirking, simply rolling his eyes before he looks away. You try your best to fight the heat that is beginning to rise to your cheeks, to no avail. 

At some point between a new round of popcorn being distributed, and everyone settling back into their seats, you fall asleep. You have no idea how much time has passed as a soft hand shakes you awake. An ache overtakes your neck muscles as you straighten up, pulling back to see Sungho smiling down at you. A quick scan of the room reveals that it’s empty save for the two of you, causing you to cock an eyebrow in confusion. 

“Where’s everyone else?” You slur out, voice thick from sleep. 

“They left. It’s almost midnight, pumpkin.”

Pumpkin, that’s new. Your sleep addled brain doesn’t have the capacity to question it, simply nodding in understanding. 

“You should go to bed,” Sungho whispers, tucking a stray piece of hair away from your face. 

You nod, still not moving from your position on the couch. As your eyes flutter closed once again, you hear a soft chuckle. It’s enough to startle you back awake, not surprised to see a shy smile painting Sungho’s face. It’s impossible to not note how handsome he looks at the moment, long hair in disarray from leaning back on the couch and clad in a large sweatshirt. You imagine that he would be much cozier than your bed, but your mouth can’t quite part to form those syllables. 

“Come on,” Sungho says softly, dragging you up from the couch by the arm. “Let’s get you to bed.”

.         .         .

At some point, it becomes strange to not be greeted by Sungho the minute you enter your shared apartment, especially since you both have shared your schedules with each other. The man should be home, but your persistent calls of his name are met with nothing but silence as you toe off your shoes. Venturing further into the apartment still reveals no signs of life, a truly odd sight. 

You round a corner to step into the small hallway that leads deeper into the space, only to collide directly with a solid expanse of skin. A strong arm reaches out to steady you as you stumble backwards, keeping you firmly upright. Sungho’s eyes are wide when you meet his gaze, clearly flustered by your sudden appearance. 

“Shit, are you okay?”

You are unable to respond, too engrossed in scanning the view in front of you. Sungho’s entire torso is exposed, the man clearly having forgone a shirt. Wide shoulders taper into an impossibly small waist, leaving you swallowing thickly as you note the pair of basketball shorts hanging low on his hips. It’s clear that he has just showered, hair still dripping down onto his torso in clear rivulets. You find yourself watching as one slides down a firm pectoral, making a trail in one of the multiple divets in his abdomen, until it’s finally absorbed by the fabric of his shorts. 

You shake your head a bit, trying to snap out of it. It doesn’t help that Sungho is still grasping your upper arm, the strength in his hand obvious despite the gentle hold. Suddenly, your mouth feels arid, as if a sandy sediment has coated its surface and sucked up all of the moisture. You imagine that Sungho’s body is coated in enough water to quench your thirst. 

…wait…what??

“I’m fine,” you rush out, clearing your throat of its obvious thickness. “Sorry for bumping into you.”

Sungho just smiles softly, finally releasing his grip on your arm. “It’s all good. I felt bad that I wasn’t around when you got back. I thought I timed my shower well.”

“Don’t worry about it. Are you going somewhere?”

A slight flush rises to Sungho’s cheeks, the man ducking his head slightly. His hand comes up to scratch the back of his neck, allowing a few residual drops to fall from his hair. It’s odd to see Sungho be anything other than confident and bold, the sudden change catching you firmly off guard. 

“Yeah, I’m actually going to go hang out with this girl Daeun. She’s in my astronomy class so we’re going to the observatory a few towns over to do some constellation research.”

“Oh! That sounds…” surprisingly romantic… “Nice. That sounds really nice.”

Sungho chuckles, a sheepish smile taking over his face. “Yeah, I’m excited. Oh, let me finish getting ready! I might come to you for outfit advice, if that’s okay.”

You nod slowly, plastering a smile on your face. “Of course it is.”

Your chest feels tight as Sungho retreats, disappearing into his bedroom. As much as you try and ignore it, it continues to encompass you as you busy yourself with the latest episode of your favorite reality tv show. The pain doesn’t subside even as you try and immerse yourself in the latest drama. Instead, your face begins to heat and your palms begin to itch, almost as if craving to dig into something. Into what, you can’t quite determine, but you imagine it feels like milky smooth skin pulled taut over firm muscle. 

“How do I look?” Sungho asks with a little turn when he emerges from his room. 

Once again, you find yourself scanning his figure, taking in the way his jeans make his legs look impossibly long and how his shirt highlights the broadness of his shoulders. When the two of you first met, you used to joke about how Sungho needed to abandon his university endeavors to become a model. Times like now make it feel a little too real to be a joke. 

“Great,” you answer softly, ignoring the way your face burns. “You look great.”

Sungho looks absolutely giddy as he approaches the couch, leaning over to place a soft kiss on your forehead. The close proximity allows you to smell all the notes of his cologne, a scent that you have gotten used to transferring onto your clothes after every tight hug and cuddle session. The tightness in your chest returns, but this time it burns. 

“Thanks, pumpkin. I’ll be home late, so don’t wait up.”

Despite the man’s warning, you can’t find it in yourself to fall asleep. Instead, you remain awake in your bed, tossing and turning every few moments. Eventually, your body tires out, allowing you to slowly drift into slumber. If you dream of the mellow scent of sea salt and water droplets sliding across skin, that’s no one’s business but your own. 

.          .          .

The two of you part with a hug, Sungho gently pecking your forehead before heading off to his own class. You can’t fight the soft smile gracing your face as you approach your own building, your friend waiting for you near the entrance. 

Minji looks thoroughly perplexed as you approach, eyebrows drawn together in clear confusion. “Was that your boyfriend?”

The question makes you choke on your iced coffee, beginning to double over as a fit of coughs wrack your body. Minji doesn’t even flinch at your dilemma, still staring at the spot where you and Sungho had previously stood. 

“Holy shit, no!” You exclaim through a slew of coughs. “He’s just my roommate.”

The two of you move to enter the building, but Minji’s confused gaze remains firmly locked on you. 

“You’re joking, right?”

“What? No!” You emphasize as you slide into your seat. “Sungho is really just my roommate.”

“Then why do you guys do…,” Minji makes a vague gesture with her hands, “that?”

“You mean hug?”

“And kiss!” Minji’s voice drops to a whisper as the professor announces the start of his lecture. “I mean, if I had anyone treating me like that, I would definitely think we’re dating.”

You roll your eyes. “We are not dating!”

Minji just looks you up and down, lips curling into a soft smirk. “Does he know that?”

Any retort you have dies instantly in your throat. He does know that. You and Sungho have never been anything other than roommates, close roommates, but roommates nonetheless. The friendship that you have developed via sharing a space will always be nothing more than just that. Besides, he’s clearly seeing that girl Daeun from astronomy, right?

The amalgamation of thoughts about your non-relationship with Sungho distracts you throughout your entire lecture. Before you know it, your professor is dismissing you and you frown at your notebook, empty save for the date scribbled in the top right corner. You bid Minji a goodbye, reminding yourself to text her later for the notes. 

As you exit the lecture hall, a familiar figure makes you stop in your tracks. Sungho’s silhouette is bathed golden by the mid afternoon sun, giving him a cherubian glow. His head is tilted back in laughter, hand covering his mouth. It’s not uncommon to see Sungho lost in laughter, but you wonder who could have him so giddy this time, especially since Jaehyun is nowhere to be seen. 

And that’s when you see her. 

She’s pretty, unbelievably so. Long dark hair cascades past her shoulders, falling down to her trim waist. Her rounded eyes are emphasized by the slight shimmer of gold eyeshadow, full cheeks painted delicately with blush. Her smile is powerful, rivaling the sunshine that covers the green. The worst part is that she looks so good next to Sungho, as if they were a proper couple. So this is the Daeun that Sungho took to go see the stars. 

A hot feeling blooms in your chest, forcing you to avert your eyes. It makes sense, of course, that Daeun would be gorgeous and Sungho would be smitten with her. It’s only right that Sungho would have a partner equally as amazing as he is. 

So why aren’t you happy for him? Why does your chest burn and why do your eyes sting? Why is there a lump in your throat that feels excruciatingly painful to swallow down? Why are your palms growing clammy despite the early springtime breeze cooling you to your core?

You push your spiral of thoughts to the side, letting your legs carry you away from the green as fast as possible. It’s impossible to focus on where you’re going, letting your body move on autopilot. It’s only when a familiar warmth and the smell of pastries overcome you that you exhale for the first time in what feels like forever. You breathe in the smell of freshly brewed coffee and exhale with a smile. 

“Y/N?” A voice calls from the register. “What are you doing here?”

You’ve always mentioned that Donghyun looks particularly cute in his work attire. His hair is kept back off his face with a visor, the brim of which is shaped like a fishtail. His aquamarine apron is tied tight around his waist, covered in stains from the busy shift he likely had. Even the glittery name tag pinned to his apron suits him, matching the overeager sparkle in his eye. 

“I just wanted to stop by for some coffee.”

Donghyun cocks an eyebrow at you before scanning the practically empty cafe. “It’s 4pm.”

“I know, but I just need a pick-me-up.”

There’s another moment of silence as Donghyun regards you. With the minimum chatter from cafe-goers, the silence almost feels awkward, Donghyun clearly pondering something before he chooses to reply. After a moment, he simply shrugs. 

“Alright, but I’m giving you half-caf! I honestly don’t feel like brewing an entire new pot of regular.”

In mere minutes, you’re sitting alone at a table by the window, a steaming mug warming your fingers. You choose to ignore the concerned glances that Donghyun shoots you from behind the coffee bar. He would probably ask about what’s bothering you, since you’re sure your crisis is painted all over your face. But that’s the exact problem—you have no idea what your crisis is. 

So what if Sungho has a new girl that he’s been seeing? It’s not like that affects you in any way. If anything, it’s expected, with his round eyes and overly caring nature. You’re sure most people 

would swoon at the mellow tone of his voice or at how quick he is to laugh at a joke. No one is immune to falling for the way he’s hyper-attentive as he listens or the way he squeezes a tad bit harder right before he’s about to release someone from a hug. 

So you’re not surprised at all that someone has fallen for Sungho, especially someone so pretty. It’s expected. So why does it hurt?

Once again, you force the question out of your mind, letting out a groan as you lean your head into your hands. The steam rising from the mug begins to heat your cheeks as you stare into it, warming you up in a way that you didn’t know you needed. Despite the burn in your chest and your clammy hands, it feels like the rest of your body is frozen over, forced to malfunction at the thought of Sungho and his new lover. 

Oh shit. You’re jealous. 

Your stomach twists and turns at the newfound revelation. It makes sense, of course, that you would fall for Sungho just like everyone else. He’s the epitome of a perfect gentleman. And with the constant touches, it’s hard not to crave that little something more. What would those ever so soft lips feel like against your own instead of your forehead or cheek?

But he has made it clear where he stands. Sungho is your roommate, no matter how much you crave for him to be more. He has Daeun. He chose Daeun. It should be easy to accept, but the swirling feeling in your gut says otherwise. 

You don’t know how long you spend in the cafe, letting time pass aimlessly as you remain lost in your thoughts. It’s only when your phone vibrates with a text that you are snapped back into reality. You don’t even have to look at it to know who it is, likely wondering about your whereabouts. After all, you’re usually home by this time, freshly showered and cuddled up with him as you chat over takeout. 

With another groan, you grab your stuff, taking your time to collect your belongings and shoot Donghyun an appreciative smile. He nods in return, shooting you a thumbs up that you’re sure is supposed to be a wish of good luck. 

He doesn’t even know how much you’ll need it. 

.         .         .

Meeting Daeun is even more tortuous than seeing her from afar. She’s even prettier up close, with a blinding smile and fluttering eyelashes. However, her beauty isn’t what strikes you the most. It’s how she’s hugging Sungho in the middle of your doorway that leaves you shocked. 

She’s clearly just saying goodbye, Sungho trapping her in one of his notorious hugs before she leaves. The sight has you frozen in place nonetheless, the grocery bag you were carrying now hanging lower in your slackened grip. Sungho seems to sense your presence as the two release from their hug, eyes lighting up as he sees you standing beyond the doorway. 

“Y/N! I didn’t know you’d be home so early,” he beams. “This is Daeun, my research partner.”

“Oh, this is Y/N?” The woman questions, shooting you a soft smile. “Nice to meet you.”

You force yourself to return the smile, although you’re sure yours comes out awkward with a hint of confusion. “You too.”

There’s a thick silence that ensues as Daeun regards the two of you. Her gaze flickers between you and Sungho a few times before she lets out a small chuckle, as if she knows something you don’t. At least you feel like you’re one step ahead of her, knowing that something’s going on between her and Sungho. You just didn’t quite expect to see it so clearly.

“Well I’m going to get going,” Daeun sings. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sungho. Nice to meet you again, Y/N.”

The woman disappears down the hallway with a little wave, ponytail swaying behind her with every step. The minute she’s out of sight, Sungho moves forward, relieving you of the grocery bag that is basically on the floor at this point. He holds the door as you take slow steps forward, finally forcing your body to enter the apartment. As you slide off your shoes, Sungho ruffles your hair before moving to unpack the groceries. 

“So,” you begin, sitting on the countertop next to where Sungho is fussing over the various fruits that you had bought. “She’s cute.”

Sungho shoots you a confused look. “I mean, I guess.”

“You guess? Isn’t she like your girlfriend or something? I feel like you should think she’s cute.”

“Woah,” Sungho chuckles. “Where did you get that from?”

“What?”

“That she’s my girlfriend? She’s literally just my partner for my research project.”

You shrug, trying not to oogle the breadth of Sungho’s shoulders as he leans down to place an egg carton in the fridge.

“I just thought you two were close. And you look kinda cute together,” you mumble, beginning to swing your legs where they hang over the edge of the counter. 

Sungho stares at you incredulously. “Ummm…okay, I guess. She’s not really my type, though.”

“Really?” You hate the way your voice comes out in a rush of excitement. “I mean, um, I’m surprised. Like I said, you two look cute together.”

In the blink of an eye, Sungho is standing before you, slowly making space for himself in the vee of your legs. His palm is warm as he places it on your knee, right on top of the rip in your jeans. The new proximity has you leaning back a bit, only to be stopped by the wall behind you. You find yourself going a little cross eyed at the closeness, trying your hardest to maintain eye contact. Sungho just smiles, squeezing your knee softly.

“I mean it,” he mumbles. “I already have my eye on someone else, pumpkin.”

It feels as if the distance between the both of you is getting smaller by the second, some sort of invisible pull bringing you closer. At the last minute, Sungho leans upward, letting his lips gently peck your forehead. The warm sensation on your skin lingers, even as Sungho pulls back to shoot you another smile. 

“Welcome home, by the way.”

The man then retreats as if nothing happened, going back to unpacking the groceries. You don’t dare move from your position, heart still hammering in your chest. It takes a moment before you are able to exhale, your breath coming out short and shaky. If it weren’t for the stability of the counter underneath you, you’re sure you would have fallen over. It makes you wonder if Sungho would’ve caught you if you had. 

“So, what do you want to do for dinner?” Sungho calls over his shoulder, shooting you a small smile. “I’m really in the mood for sushi.”

.         .         .

You impatiently rap your knuckles against the heavy door in front of you, shifting your weight from foot to foot. Never before had you felt this sense of urgency, limbs feeling jittery with every passing moment that you spend standing still. It’s enough anxiety to have you running a marathon, and even then, you swear you would still have some anxious energy left. However, the minute that a confused face opens the door, you feel a bit of the tension leave your body. 

“Y/N?”

You smile sheepishly. “Hi, Sanghyuk. I need your help.”

You’ve always found Sanghyuk and Jaehyun’s shared apartment to be extremely homely. The two of them have arrays of stuffed animals and trinkets in every corner of the home, along with an assortment of fuzzy blankets in every nook and cranny. It’s cozy and calm, especially with the way it’s never quite silent. Usually Jaehyun is the culprit, either joking and laughing loudly or playing some music to set the vibe. 

But even now, as it’s just you and Sanghyuk in the space, the cozy feeling is amplified. You’re wrapped up in one of his fleece Pokémon blankets, cocooning yourself in warmth. It’s quiet for a moment, Sanghyuk never pushing you to speak before you’re ready. After a few deep breaths, you finally feel ready to open up. 

“I think I like Sungho.”

You expect something to shift in the moment, maybe for Sanghyuk to squeal in surprise or for the world to stop turning for a bit. But it’s nothing like that. Instead, Sanghyuk just continues to look at you, a neutral expression coloring his face. 

“Okay,” he murmurs softly. “Tell me more.”

And you do. It’s easy to confide in Sanghyuk, with his soft smiles and solemn nods. He listens as you pour your heart out, explaining everything from the first bit of physical contact after your shitty date to meeting Daeun in the apartment. As every piece of the story comes out, you feel your chest begin to grow lighter. 

“And now I’m here because I don’t know what to do.”

Sanghyuk just hums, clearly pondering your words before he speaks. “Well, are you going to tell him?”

“I can’t!” You all but whine, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “He’s just going to pity me and reject me and then it’s going to be weird when we have to see each other all the time. I mean, we live together.”

“What makes you so sure that any of these things are going to happen?”

“I don’t know.”

Sanghyuk shrugs. “Exactly, you don’t know. So what’s the harm in trying?”

You can’t help but groan, head beginning to pound at the mere thought of telling him how you feel. “But what if he hates me?”

“And what if he loves you?” 

What if Sungho loves you?

It’s hard to imagine, but for a moment you get a glimpse of what that would be like. Forehead kisses would trail down to meet your lips instead of just stopping there. Cuddles and hugs could turn into more meaningful touches. A hand on the waist would be a show of belonging, not just a hint of guidance. The man that you want would finally be yours. 

“I’m scared, Sanghyuk.”

The man across from you sighs, beginning to pick at the corner of his own blanket. “I know, but you’ll never know if you don’t try.”

“And Daeun?”

“Has Sungho ever lied to you?” Sanghyuk cocks an eyebrow when you shake your head no. “Exactly. You have no reason to believe he isn’t telling you the truth.”

You know that he’s right, just like he always is. It’s just hard to ditch the niggling feeling in the back of your brain that there’s something you don’t know. The glint in Daeun’s eyes and the surprise in Sungho’s had to have meant something. It had to. 

“I know that, but I just need to hear it. Can you please be 100% honest with me?” You ask softly, eyes firmly fixed on Sanghyuk. 

“I always am.”

“Does Sungho have a thing for Daeun?”

Sanghyuk chuckles. “No. Like he said, he has his eye on someone else.”

The phrase bounces around your head the entire walk home. Someone else could be anyone. It could be another person in his research class or one of his gym companions. It could be that one really cute guy that works at Donghyun’s cafe. It could be anyone. It could be you. 

As you unlock your apartment door, you’re greeted with the familiar sight of Sungho wiping down the kitchen counters. It’s a little thing he does, constantly cleaning and tidying to the point that it’s almost motherly. But his habit is endearing, especially as he scrunches his nose while scrubbing at a particularly stubborn stain. 

The minute he looks up, though, any trace of tension is gone from his face, melting into a soft smile. He’s quick to abandon the cloth he was using, approaching you with wide arms. The hug that he engulfs you in is all too tight, but you find it freeing rather than suffocating. However, the breath leaves your lungs when Sungho places a soft kiss on your forehead. 

“Welcome home, pumpkin,” he coos softly.

As you two part, you can’t help but stand frozen in place, a warm rush flooding your body. If Sungho notices, he doesn’t show it, choosing instead to go back to cleaning. Before you can stop it, the warmth travels upward, escaping your body before you can catch it. 

“I want you to mean it.”

The short phrase makes Sungho stop, turning back to you with a confused furrow in his brow. “Mean what?”

As much as you want to race to retract your words, Sanghyuk’s voice echoes in your mind. Someone else, you remind yourself. It could be you. You take a deep breath. 

“When you kiss me,” you explain, squeezing your eyes shut as embarrassment begins to color your cheeks. “I know it’s just on the forehead or cheek, but I want you to mean it.”

Sungho makes a confused little noise. “But I do mean it.”

“Not in the way that I want you to. Not in the way that I mean it.”

The silence that overcomes the room makes time tick by ever so slowly. What are mere seconds feel like hours as the two of you simply stand in the hallway, neither of you daring to say a word. Even though your eyes are closed, you can tell Sungho is shifting his weight back and forth, the motion making the floorboards creak slightly. 

“Y/N, I need to understand. How exactly do you want me to mean it?”

Somehow, the question gives you the energy to open your eyes, instantly sweeping them over Sungho’s form. The white tee shirt he wears is marred with splotches of water, likely from his earlier time cleaning. His hands are calloused as they run through his hair, grip permanently rough from spending too much time at the gym. There’s a bit of redness around his temples from what looks like the beginning of a blemish. He’s stunning like this. 

“I want you to like me the way I like you.”

Sungho’s confused expression deepens. “And what way is that?”

“Like more than a friend or roommate. I want you to like me romantically.”

The laugh that Sungho lets out comes as a surprise. It even surprises the man itself, it seems, based on the way he instantly covers his mouth with his hands. His eyes have grown wider in shock, gaze uncertain as it remains locked on you. But soon that all melts away, replaced with a subtle smirk. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just—who says I don’t already?”

The apartment seems to shrink around the two of you, compressing all of the air in the room. Even the hallway feels tighter, invisibly drawing you and Sungho closer together. It’s as if there was a shift in the space, in your space. 

“B-but, Daeun?” You manage to stutter out, trying to ignore the way that the walls are pressing in on you, forcing you closer to Sungho. 

It seems that your roommate is feeling similar effects, slowly stumbling towards you as well. 

“I told you,” he mumbles softly. “She’s just my research partner. I like someone else. Y/N, I like you.”

The apartment shrinks a little more.

“You do?”

Sungho nods, smiling sheepishly. “I have for like, two years now. I mean, I tried to show you! Why else would I be all over you like that?”

“Because you’re a touchy person?” You question, not sounding too convinced of yourself. 

“Because I like you, pumpkin.”

The space is finally completely compressed, you and Sungho now standing toe to toe. He feels so much broader like this, taking up his fair share of the newly tiny space. It’s dizzying to be pressed so close together, even though it’s far from the first time. Once again, you find that it’s freeing rather than suffocating.

“I thought you were just being a really good roommate.”

Sungho chuckles, the sound vibrating through both of your bodies. The closeness allows him to easily wrap an arm around your waist, his free hand tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He lets his hand trail downward, cupping your cheek. 

“I don’t think really good roommates would do this.”

As much as you have felt Sungho’s lips on your face, the feeling of him pressing a kiss to your mouth feels utterly foreign. His lips are made soft from his constant use of peach chapstick, rivaling your own soft pucker. The kiss is both just as quick and equally as gentle as his pecks to your forehead. When he pulls away, you can’t stop the small whine that escapes you. 

Your eyes flutter open, trying to tamp down the immediate feeling of embarrassment that floods your core. You don’t seem to be the only one, though, with Sungho’s cheeks taking on their own rosy hue. For a moment, the two of you are silent, letting the apartment around you expand and contract with every breath you take. 

“Sungho,” you whisper. 

It’s all it takes for Sungho to instantly reconnect his lips to yours, this time kissing you deeper. The hand around your waist pulls you impossibly closer, leaving no room between your bodies. It gives Sungho the leverage to lean over you slightly, letting his lips capture yours again and again. The feeling is dizzying. Never has Sungho’s touch electrified you so much. 

When you finally pull away, heavy panting fills the silence between you. It takes Sungho a moment to open his eyes, finally staring back at you with dark eyes. It’s different from the Sungho you’re so used to seeing, playful and easygoing. Instead, this Sungho desires. 

“So,” you can’t help but ask. “This means you don’t like Daeun, right?”

“Holy shit,” Sungho curses before breaking out into laughter.

His chuckles shatter the moment, both hands dropping down to his sides. It’s endearing to watch how his nose scrunches and his eyes squeeze shut. But honestly, you don’t know what is so funny. 

“Y/N, pumpkin,” Sungho begins in between chuckles. “Daeun has a girlfriend.”

Oh.

.FIN.

SPARKS AMIDST THE SNOW

scaramouche x reader ⤀ warnings: gn!reader, second chance romance ⤀ synopsis: he meets you again for the first time since erasing himself from irminsul, and new hope flickers in the barren cold. ⤀ notes: for the best reading experience, pls think of the outro to all too well (10 min version) while u read this !

When Scaramouche inevitably accompanies the golden haired traveller on their journey to Snezhnaya, the last thing he expected was a pit stop in your little village on the outskirts of the capital. and although his puppet body does not shrink in the face of this nation's biting cold, his skin burns under the curious, yet cautious, gaze of those once familiar to him.

He keeps his head down, dipping his hat so that its large brim might hide his visage, eager to avoid any unwarranted attention. Still, his eyes cannot help but wander and his heart, imaginary as it may be, cannot help but wonder.

Were you well? The last he'd seen of you, he had promised to return a god — one who would whisk you away from the barren cold of Snezhnaya to live out your days in glory as his mortal consort. But for all that had transpired, and then that fateful traipse beneath the Irminsul, he's now no more than just another stranger passing through — fleeting as the falling snow, just another memory to be buried in the desolate stillness of winter.

He cares not for the stars in the sky, yet somehow they still dictate that his traveling companions would task him with purchasing commodities, of course from your family's stall. He's long grown out of his naivety; knows that in this infinite realm of possibilities, there’d always be the chance of meeting you again, slim as it may be. If it really came to, he had been prepared to let you live your life, free of him this time around, but it seems this world has its own twisted sense of humor, for he cannot tear his eyes from the ring that sits upon your finger.

"That ring. Where did you get it?" He's never been one for small talk, but the biting curiosity rivals that of the wind, as it chips away at his exterior. He keeps his tone even, ignoring the multitude of emotions whirring in his head, though irritation clearly seems to buzz the loudest.

It should have been impossible that a ring he'd forged with his own hands should still exist, but as the fate of this world has yet to reflect that… if he hadn't given you the ring, then how? Or perhaps even who... the cold, gunmetal glint laughs in his face as your swift fingers wrap up his purchase.

The stranger's question takes you by surprise, and you look up, taken aback by the intensity of his indigo gaze — beautiful, and bitter, and so blatantly familiar, yet you cannot quite figure out why.

Your village is nowhere near the main road, so it isn't often that you'd host any foreign guests; even if you did, you're sure you'd remember if someone like that were to ever have passed through. Nevertheless, you flex your fingers, pulled out of your thoughts by his impatient sigh.

"I'm not sure. I've had it ever since I could remember."

You're the same as he remembers, he thinks. A rose amidst the snow, with frost resting in your hair and on the curls of your lashes. Out of habit, he takes your hand, inspecting the ring at a closer proximity.

'How rude,' you think. and yet your hand in his, feels comfortable, and warm, and right. Like an electric charge drawing two magnets home to the other. It’d be blasphemy to pull away, but you manage to do so anyway, furrowing your brows at his boldness, the frown on your lips more so a reflection of your confusion, rather than displeasure.

“If you wanted to look, you could’ve just asked,” you mumble, as you slip the ring off your finger, offering it to him in the palm of your hand.

The detailed metalwork, the particular branding imprinted in the iron… there’s no denying the influence of the raiden gokaden, though it was perhaps, a subconscious decision made from muscle memory. In hindsight, he thinks that, in the moment, he must have felt—still feels—that same overwhelming affection that came as second nature to kabukimono. after all, it was forged as a promise of his love, and there’s no question about it when, hidden beneath his clothes, its pair hangs on a chain around his neck.

"It’s made with excellent craftsmanship," he boasts, "any merchant worth their weight, would give you a good price for it." He figures you might as well get something out of it, and a piece like this, though meaningless now, is still sure to last you until at least the next winter.

But a stubborn pout is painted across your snow-kissed features. "Absolutely not! it’s actually quite dear to me, you know..."

Scaramouche scoffs at the irony. ‘Why?’ he wants to ask. He is not foolish enough to believe himself an exception from the rules of this world; not when he's already convinced himself to give up on chasing the impossible. Still, here you are, turning destiny on its head — his heart, right within reach.

“It can’t be that dear, if you’d so willingly hand it off to a stranger.” his face reveals nothing, though he cannot say the same for the bile that rises in his throat. He crosses his arms, a brow raised in skepticism. "How do you know I won't run off with it right now?"

“I don’t,” you start, “so I suppose you could call it a leap of faith.”

“Or a doomed attempt at flight,” he counters. “You’d leave something so precious up to fate?”

You ponder for a moment as to why you feel so drawn to this stranger, why this back and forth comes so easily, why you seem to somehow just trust him.

"We don’t get many visitors here,” you start, “and as fate should have it, the day we do, it happens to be someone as interesting as you. that must count for something, no?”

The realist he’s learned to embody rolls his eyes at such ridiculous notions: your blind optimism… putting such faith in these false stars…. but the tenderness he had buried begs to differ, planting roots between the cavities of his chest, sprouting until it breaks through the surface.

He takes a further study of the intricate details, the careful inazuman script engraved on its body. ‘My heart,’ he had wrote.

Scaramouche dips his head as his fingers close a fist around the piece, the large brim of his hat hiding the fondness glimmering in his eyes, and the ghostly smile settling on his lips. He does not cringe as he recalls the lingering remnants of Kabukimono's innocence: stubbornly deluding himself to believe that his hollowed chest was naught for his natural lack of a heart, but because fate had dictated you to be its keeper.

Perhaps the warmth of sumeru had indeed rubbed off on him — melted the frost that crawled upon and tore his skin, whilst teaching him to hope again, not for anyone else’s sake, but for his own. What was that Vahumana saying? It’s difficult for people to truly understand themselves — and as much as he’d like to disagree, judging by his current predicament, he knows he cannot.

“Have you ever considered that this ring might be one half of a pair?” he tosses it in the air, nonchalantly, as if he were merely flipping a coin, catching it mid-way before you have the chance to swipe it back.

“What do you suppose fate would have to say about that?”

It’s almost impossible to tell whether he’s truly genuine in his queries, but the mischievous gleam in his bright eyes, and the smug look on his face, seem to nullify any regards you may have had. Your brows twitch in vexation. was he not just here to buy provisions? And yet he toys with you so…

“Well if that were the case, then it would be between me and whoever owns the other half,” you huff, reaching over once again in an attempt to snatch back your belonging, only to miss by mere seconds thanks to a quick slight of his hand.

Breathing out something between a chuckle and a scoff, Scaramouche tugs at the thin chain around his neck, hard enough for it to snap right off, and toss in your direction.

"A leap of faith," he says plainly. it lands in the palms of your hands: a ring, near identical. 'My soul' it reads. If he lacked a heart, then it could only have been forged from his soul.

A flurry of questions swarm in your head, as you stare at his ring. you want to ask him why and how, but he's already pivoted away, the tassels of his hat barely missing you by inches, as he quickly grabs his purchase.

“Who are you,” you manage to blurt out, calling out to him, and asking him to wait, so he might answer these questions he’s planted in your heart, but he only bids you farewell with a lazy wave of his hand.

Though there's nothing he'd like more than to hear the sweet song of his name falling from your lips, he's learned it best to leave the past where it belongs. once he's settled his scores... Then he'll get his second chance with you—he'll make sure of it, vowing to come back for you, not as Kunikuzushi who you had once known him, but he hopes you might one day be able to love him as he is, as well.

‘My soul’ your new ring reads. You shake your head, pursing your lips at the mysterious wanderer, wondering if you’d ever see him again, but a gust of wind blows your way — not a prickling cold as you’re used to, but a warm summer breeze that seems to caress your cheeks so sweetly.

Perhaps it's only in your head, but you swear the wind seems to carry the whisper of a name in its flurry. 'And don't you forget it,' it seems to say.

notes2: pleaseeee associate this with the outro of all too well (10 min version) like imagine the camera slow panning out amidst the falling snow, to the hopes of another chance together (⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄‸o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝) anyways, tysm for reading, reblogs/feedback vry much appreciated ♡

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

ash's masterlist

📌 the encafe series [ot7] you in the rain [nishimura riki]

ot7 headcanons

enhypen as your valentine [fluff, established rs]

enhypen as dangerous woman songs [fluff, established rs]

nishimura riki

you in the rain [fluff, romance, highschool au, strangers to lovers]

you turn it right around [fluff n comfort, highschool au, established rs]

i get the feeling that you're just holding on [comfort au, established rs]

royal flush [fluff, romance, uni au, roommates to lovers, established rs]

a cruel summer with you [fluff, romance, hs au, rivals to lovers]

the muse [fluff, established rs, artistxmuse]

what's your ETA? [fluff, established rs, forced proximity on the train]

yang jungwon

engraving on my wrist [fluff, idol x trainee au]

jungwon as your situationship [fluff, idol x trainee, getting together]

kim sunoo

tough case [fluff, hurt/comfort, established rs]

lee heeseung

gummy bears [fluff, mutual crushing, highschool au]

x : MY DILUC, MY EVERYTHING :*+ﾟ

in which: you tell diluc that klee finds him 'too boring' to be your boyfriend. he can't help but feel like she's right.

warnings: 1.3k words, insecure diluc who needs a little reassurance, mostly dialogue, klee being cute but also a menace, so much fluff with a dash of angst.

a/n: i have not posted anything in so long, but i wanted this to be my first fic of 2024 because i love diluc <3 i hope you all enjoy this little fic!

“What do you mean Mr Diluc is your boyfriend?” Klee asks, tilting her head to the side with an inquisitive look in her eyes as you bend down to her height.

“I mean that Mr Diluc is my boyfriend. My partner. We’ve been together for years now.” 

“You mean that Mr Diluc, right?” She raises a tiny hand in the direction where the red-haired in question stands. He’s immersed in conversation with Kaeya and Jean, but from one glance you can tell the estranged brothers are up to no good. Or rather, that Kaeya is having the time of his life provoking your partner.

“That’s the one. I think he’s the only one, Klee.”

Her pointer finger then comes up to her chin in contemplation, and her breath of contemplation materialises as a small cloud, condensating in the winter chill. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“Why is he your boyfriend?”

“Well, why wouldn’t he be?”

“No offence to Mr Diluc, but he’s so cold and boring!” She cries, clenching her fists to her chest, as if being ‘boring’ was a crime to humanity. “And he never smiles. He should smile more but I would find him scarier like that… so maybe he should stay the way he is: a total gloomy bum bum!”

You can’t help but laugh at her honest statement, muffling the noise with your hand. She blinks at you and wonders what she said that made you laugh, but you simply tell her that it’s nothing.

“Maybe, but I love that ‘gloomy bum bum’ just the way he is.”

“But… why? Y/n is so kind and knows how to smile! Mr Diluc is too sad and boring for you.”

Over the course of your relationship with the wine monopolist, you were met with resistance from various people who believed they wanted ‘the best’ for him. These were including, butand not limited to, businessmen, his admirers, and old aristocrats with wealth on the brink of collapsing. You never let their passive aggressiveness get to you, their comments burned to ashes by the way Diluc lights the way for you with his undying flames. 

Yet hearing a child, who has no real grip of the world beyond explosions and how not to blow up Monstadt, explain that Diluc shouldn’t be with you because he doesn’t know how to smile is… unbelievable. Her intentions are nothing but pure for her knowledge of the world has not yet been tainted by the nuance of human behaviour. As refreshing as it feels to have her support, any insults you hear about Diluc are unpleasant to hear. Though she may not hold any malice, perhaps her judge of character needs to be deepened.

“Sometimes, the coldest people are really the warmest,” you begin, gently wrapping her scarf around her neck. “Mr Diluc is one of those people.”

“Really?”

“Warmer than a fireplace, or a Pyro Crystalfly, or Jumpty Dumpty.”

Her eyes widen. “Really?”

“Yes, but please don’t go blowing one up just to see how warm it can be. Jean already told you about the animals hibernating during winter, you shouldn’t go disturbing them.”

She tucks her hands behind her back, eyes downcast and ears flopped.

“Do you remember when Albedo took you to Dragonspine and when you melted a chunk of ice, crystalflies flew out of it?”

“They were so pretty and became super warm! I wish I caught one of them, but they flew away too quickly.”

“Mr Diluc is just like that ice with the fireflies. You just need to warm up to him and when you do, he can be one of the best people you’ll ever meet.”

“Will he fly away too?”

“You could keep an eye on him and find out.”

She nods, determination alighting in her eyes with the new task you assign her. Although you’re pretty positive she won’t ever succeed with it, you’re just happy you’ve found a way to show Klee that your lover isn’t as terrible as she deems. A flash of familiar red hair appears in your periphery.

“Dear?” He calls, capturing your attention. “Shall we head into the tavern now? It’s too cold to stay out here.”

Sparing one last glance at Klee who regards your partner with fire in her eyes, you can’t help but smile at the pure innocence in her heart. With a ruffle of her hair as goodbye, you take Diluc’s hand and stand, waving goodbye to the rest of the group before heading in the direction of Angel’s Share. Shuddering, you sink deeper into the wool of your coat and the warmth of his Pyro Vision, a perfect combat to the winter frost that’s covered Monstadt.

“You know,” you begin when both of you have arrived at the empty tavern and the red-haired has a fire started in the corner. He urges you to continue with a soft ‘hum’. “The conversation I had with Klee just won’t leave my head.”

“Oh? What’d she say?”

Sitting down on a cold stool, you keep your gaze on him as he walks behind the counter. It seems like he’s preparing drinks and snacks for you: some cheese, crackers, and grapes.

“First of all, she only found out today that I was dating you.”

“Oh? Jean or Albedo haven’t told her before?”

“I guess neither of us appear that much in conversation together. But she refused to believe it at first, being like ‘you mean that Mr Diluc?’, ‘why is he your boyfriend?’,” you laugh. “She thought that you were too gloomy to be with me and that I should be with someone who knows how to smile.”

His cheese knife halts, the sound of metal meeting wood slicing through the atmosphere. However, you’re too engrossed in retelling the story to notice the way he freezes.

“How silly. Kids really have the wildest presumptions and thoughts to match.”

Diluc continues preparing the food, stiff hands moving along the counter. You don’t say more than that, saving further conversation for when he’s done. As he sets the arrangement of crackers, cheese, and grapes down, it’s accompanied by a heavy sigh.

“What if… she’s right?” Asks the winery owner, voice no louder than a whisper.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I did, but I don’t understand why you think that way too.”

“Well, smiling isn’t my strong suit anymore and I’ve been told by the knights that the children find my expression too scary.”

“You know anyone can smile, right?” You ask jovially. “It’s not like a statistical impossibility-“

“It’s not just that,” he interjects sharply. Your smile fades, acknowledging Diluc’s sombre expression that clarified he wasn’t joking around like you thought. However, seeing the change in your attitude sobered him and that sharp glance fades, turning into something remorseful and softer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that.”

“No no, it’s my fault for not taking you seriously. Please, go on.”

“I’m quite boring, you know.” He fiddles with the ends of his leather gloves. “Did you never think that maybe what Klee said could be correct?”

“Never because she’s not correct. Honestly, Diluc, after all these years of being together and hearing what some people have to say about us, I never thought you’d think like this.” 

He casts his gaze downwards. “Because those people don’t know me like you do.” 

Two hands come up to cup his cheeks, gently directing him to look up at you and meet your kind expression. All inhibitions he had melt away at the sight of your smile.

“I can only hope they never do,” you reply simply, confidence lacing your words. 

Being with him is not easy. He is a busy man, one who manages the entirety of Monstadt’s wine business during the day and takes to the shadows to look after your beloved city at night. Yet, despite working with the sun and moon, he still gives all of him to you. For as long as Diluc will allow it, you hope to be the only person he’ll pick baskets of grapes with, play slow games of chess with, and freely lay out his convictions to. 

You’ll be damned to give up your spot beside him without a fight.

Diluc doesn’t believe he deserves the same. “You’re too patient with me. I’ve let you down too much for you to be this forgiving,” he grabs your wrists and gently knocks his forehead against yours. “I can’t give you everything you want.”

“You’re my Diluc, you already are everything.”

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

the 52-hertz whale

Word count: 8.0k

Warnings: smut, trauma dumping

Summary: love is a choice, you suppose

Hajime Hinata never felt that he was neglected.

He grew up in a family; a family of three, specifically, and he never really felt the financial strain that other kids felt. He had the spare pocket change that most kids his age did, and he had parents. His family was one, perhaps. He doesn't think he has much to complain about when his parents weren't divorced. He had a relatively happy childhood, he thinks.

"Hinata," You fiddle with your fingers. "I know you're not the island's therapist... but I was wondering—"

Hinata welcomes your words that cut off his thoughts. He didn't want to overthink his family again. He has no reason to.

"Go ahead," He smiles. "Would you like to sit in the hospital?"

"Too scary," You pause. "Can we sit in one of our rooms instead?"

"Yours or mine?"

"I don't care," Your voice wavers. "I'm a bit overwhelmed, so maybe a walk instead? I need to sort it out; you can simply listen if you don't want to help."

"Of course," He smiles, following you as you start wandering. Hinata helps around the island with what he can, fixing pipes, lifting materials, even going as far as cooking on the days Teruteru goes a little insane. Hajime Hinata carries the weight of the entire island, so you don't like troubling him with things as simple as your thoughts. Yet, you find yourself staring at him more often, catching the way his brows furrow ever so slightly. He looks tired. Maybe he needed rest as much as you did. Hinata didn't have anyone to lean on without feeling guilty, so you suppose it's expected that the majority of the class acts first instead of him. It's nice to have other people help, even if they aren't aware of how much they are. Hinata takes off his shoes as he steps into the sand. Just yesterday, he was raking out the sharp objects from the sand. "So?"

"I was thinking," You pause. "Of my childhood."

"And?"

"I was a little overwhelmed, I suppose," You mumble. "I really have no reason to complain about it, you see."

Hinata stares at you, and you use a hand to push your hair back as the wind blows in your hair. You still, staring at the setting sun, heart heavy in your chest. Your lips form a pout, and Hinata reaches to ease the crease between your brows. You stare at him, biting your cheek as you do. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe, you should have just made up an excuse that didn't include trauma dumping on him. Maybe, you should've just—

"It's fine, you know?"

"I was thinking," You frown. "That I miss my best friend."

"Do you?"

"I also miss all the friends I cut off when I entered Hope's Peak," You mumble. "I cut them off because they were toxic for me, but I guess they thought I was stuck up and didn't feel I needed them anymore. They're all dead now, including my parents, yet I don't feel sad about it. Does that make me weird, Hinata?"

He shakes his head. "It depends on how you see it, but I'm sure there's a reason you aren't sad."

"Yes," You continue walking, eyes staring out at sea again. "But you see, I have no reason not to feel sad over the loss of my parents. I grew up with a loving mom and a dad that cheated but never was abusive. My mom made sure that I grew up educated, and my dad never backed out when I spent his card to the point of maxing out. I have no reason to hate them, yet I don't mourn for them at all. There's a bitterness, you see, but not sadness."

Hinata nods.

"But then again," You pause to stare at your stomach showing from the crop top. Reaching down to it, you squeeze the fat sticking out, and you chuckle. "I hated the skin that I sat in because of my mother."

In the distance, a seagull calls, and you step into the water, leaning down to pull the sand dollar out of the grains. Hinata steps next to you, staring at the fossil. Neither of you say a thing, and you grin. "That can go into my next story, granted I don't get sick of writing again."

Hinata turns to stare at you. "Did you hate your talent?"

"Yes," You hum, drying it off on your hip. "I despised the literature I created with my hands. I hated the worlds that were from my mind. I would stare at the documents and throw up all because I had overwritten during a period of time I should have been enjoying my life. I have nothing to complain about to my parents. It was my fault that I decided to go all in to get recruited, not because of them. I suppose I just wanted a way to save their marriage."

Hinata thinks that sounds familiar.

"I made it in," You pause. Hinata waits for the next line, but it never comes. Perhaps he had unconsciously hoped that your tale would play out differently from his. The child in his mind prayed that somehow, your tale would be better than his. Ah, he was having unrealistic thoughts again; Maybe he should have let the analyst talent stay with him; Maybe he hadn't matured that much. That wasn't good news.

In the distance, the wind blows against the trees, the ocean rising to your calf as you stare up at Hinata.

"And?"

"There is no and," You exhale, heart still heavy. "And then they divorced, and I never saw my dad ever again."

"Ah," Hinata mumbles. He presses a hand to your back, almost as if to try to comfort you. He should be better at this. Why isn't he better at this? "Are you..?"

"But that's not what matters," You drag Hinata out of the water. "What matters is that I feel nothing for my parents despite the lack of reason. My mom stayed with me throughout my years at Hope's Peak until the Tragedy. I have no reason to be so desensitized about them. The first person I killed when I became a remnant was my mom. Next was my dad, and then the rest is history." You stare at your hands, biting your bottom lip. "I found the answer."

"It is not the fact that you murdered them." Hinata pauses. "That much I can see."

"Is it not?" You grin at him. The breeze grows colder, and you glance at the palm trees. Five leaves. "I killed my parents with my bare hands, and then I recovered, but I never mourned. Did you see how devastated Teruteru was when he found out he killed his own mother? Sonia was mortified when she realized she destroyed her nation. The same holds for Akane and Nekomaru. I didn't feel anything when my memories were restored. I didn't even feel bad that I had killed my parents. I had been so insensitive when I brought it up that even Komaeda was worried."

Hinata holds his hand up for yours.

You give it to him.

He traces the lines in your palm, and he wonders if he should read them.

"Don't bother," You smile. "I've gotten it read before."

"Mm," He pauses. "Were you lonely?"

"Always," You mumble. "Were you? I remember you were an only child."

"Much more often than I like to admit." Hinata pauses. "What else?"

"Well," You mumble. "I remember my mom cursing about my dad when he wasn't home, and I remember my dad trying to explain to me that I'll understand when I'm older."

Hinata starts leading you back onto the road.

"He tried convincing me in the parking lot of a Home Depot that he had a reason to cheat." You mirror Hinata as he sits down on the bench. "I still don't get it."

"He had a reason, maybe," Hinata lets go of your hand. "But it was not justifiable."

"Yes," You grimace. "And part of growing up for me was the fact that I had to realize he did have a reason to cheat, but not one that could be justifiable. Instead of making a conscious effort to fix it, he just ran away from the problem. A relationship doesn't go a single way, so even when my mom was trying to fix the relationship, without my father cooperating, she was unable to fix it. Love is a choice, Hinata-kun."

Hinata stares at you. "Is that so?"

"I read that somewhere in high school," You brush the dried sand from your feet, pulling the sand dollar out of your pocket. "That is why arranged marriages last longer than willing ones. You can fall out of love for the same reason you can fall in love. The spontaniety of your lover can become recklessness in your eyes, and the smothering devotion they have for you can become suffocating. Love is a choice after you choose that person, perhaps. Is that desensitizing love?"

"No," Hinata slips his shoes on and bends down to brush the sand from your feet for you. "That is not, simply because if it was the case, then you would not see it in the people in love."

You smile as he slips your shoes on for you.

"If love were plainly emotion without choice, you would not see Sonia open her arms whenever she sees Gundham. Peko wouldn't have chosen to die instead of accidentally harm Fuyuhiko a second time. Kamukura wouldn't have chosen to place those flowers on Chiaki's desk. None of those choices would have been conscious if love were just an emotion." Hinata helps you up. "I would not be here listening to you after such a long day."

"I suppose," You grimace. "But you needed this just as much as I did."

He stares at you.

"You waited for me when I said I got in," You laugh dryly. "Did you think making it big would be able to save my parents' marriage? By getting into a fancy private school for the best of the best? If anything, it made it worse. My parents divorced three months into the semester on the day of thanksgiving. It was kind of funny."

"It shouldn't be."

"Yes," You grin. "But unlike your parents, mine split. I didn't feel hurt until I was sitting down and filling out paperwork for something, realizing that I don't have a father. That's when it kind of bites you, making you sit there and rethink your decisions. Then, Hinata, how about you?"

"Ah," Hinata stares at you, pausing. "I don't have much of a childhood to talk about."

"There has to be something," You tilt your head. "or else they would have no reason to sign your life away to a surgery."

"Well," He stares at you, unsure where to start. "It was fine, really, until I started to attend Hope's Peak."

You pat the empty bench. "Sit."

"Thank you," He pauses, face falling. "Then they just sort of... disappeared from my life."

"Is that so?" You lean forward to rest on your palm, staring at the trees ahead.

"They worked hard to be able to pay my tuition for the first year," Hinata chuckles. "And then... they couldn't afford a second year, but I wanted to attend a second year... so."

"You accepted the project," You exhale.

"Yes." He mumbles. "I don't remember much of the treatment other than the neurologist and psychologist. Kamukura's memories are blurry to me."

"Did it hurt?"

"They sedated me," He pauses. "Yeah."

You blink, lips pulled into a frown.

"Now you're frowning again."

"It's dehumanizing," You mumble. "A human made god was violated by its creators."

"My creators did nothing. Kamukura was used by the people he was made for."

"Youwere used by the people you trusted. That makes no difference." You stare at him. "It was still you who was used, and it was Kamukura who chose to sit there. He wasn't a human, unfortunately."

Hinata stares at you.

"But my parents loved me."

"So did mine." You pause. "Just because your parents loved you doesn't mean they couldn't harm you. Maybe their intention wasn't to hurt you, but surely they can still hurt people. A child isn't supposed to accommodate their parents when they are the younger one."

"I suppose, but—"

"There's no need to have a child to save a marriage. That's the weak way out. People who have children to fix their marriages are cowards. They focus all their attention on the child instead of the deteriorating relationship." You pause. "Distracting yourself from your own problems can only last for so long. But then again, human beings are complex, and I'm not Mi-chan, so it doesn't matter."

Hinata stares at you standing up, stepping out to the road, eyes closed. He pauses as you spread your arms out.

In the distance, the sound of the bedtime lullaby plays, and you spin along to Ibuki's music. It's calming, in a way. You're overcome with an unknown nostalgia each time the music plays, and you wonder if it used to be your lullaby. Your parents never sang or read you to sleep. You remember sprawling out on the bed with them, and you remember closing the lights at 12 when you were too tired to continue. You remember the low burn of your mom's desk light as she stayed up studying again, and you remember hating getting out of bed in the morning. You smell the oily sunny-side-up eggs as you stare at the moon, pretending you're still on that trampoline.

You still, realizing you've wandered too far from Hinata. He stands in the middle of the road, staring at you, hand out to reach you.

"Why are you standing there?"

"You look lonely."

"Well, get over here. You're calling and I'm receiving, right? There's no reason for you to be alone."

The moon stares in mild curiosity, wondering if she had seen this before. Perhaps she did. She dreamed of a sun that would touch her, yet she never questioned if the sun were lonely. The sun had no stars as the moon did, so perhaps he was. Well, not that it would worry over something as such. She stares down at the two of you, arms wrapped around each other. The warmth of the sun was enough to heal anyone, even the moon. So she supposed that you were being healed.

Hinata relishes in the coolness of your skin.

"Is that the only reason you called me out?"

"No," You let go of him as he does, and he takes a step back. "My real reason was to screw you over and force you to think over why you got here in the first place."

"I wanted to be an ultimate," He smiles amusedly.

"You? Or the inferiority complex your parents gave you?"

"Now you just sound like Mi-chan."

"That's what she does best," You shrug, starting back toward the rooms. "But she's right, you know? Was it you, or was it your parents? And then also... how can you heal it?"

"I have."

"But you do not process," You stare at the streetlight. "You built that with Souda's help. You water these roads when it gets dry here. You keep the pool together. You do everything around this island, Hinata-kun. You get no time to process things when you're so hyperfocused."

"Maybe."

"Also," You stretch your arms. "There's an unspoken pressure when you grow up alone."

"Maybe for you."

"For me!" You grin. "The unintended thought that my parents only have once chance to succeed plagues my mind daily, even with their death."

Hinata stops in front of your cottage. "Well?"

"Would you like to come in?" You blink up at him.

"Do you—"

"Yes. But it's up to you." You rock on your feet.

Hinata wants to, but the back of his mind tells him to rest.

"I'm going to go back," Hinata smiles.

"No worries!" You beam. "Rest well."

"Of course."

The moon makes way for the sun in the morning, and you blink lifelessly at the sun when you wake up. You feel like shit. Taking a walk at 8pm in the evening and walking in the cold ass ocean was not a smart choice. Maybe a warm shower will fix it? Who knows. You sit in the bath for a good moment, questioning your sanity. You'll stay in today.

It's half past three when Mikan comes in from a call. Hinata had created this weird communication device, and you were tired. Mikan would be quickest, her number being the only single-digit number. She checks your temperature and vitals, sighing when it's nothing more than a fever. It reminds you of when you were younger. You can't recall the last time you broke down with a fever. You thought you were taking care of yourself well.

"Um," Mikan helps you sit up, handing you the pills with water. "I also have liquid if you want..."

"It's fine," You mumble, taking the pills from her hand. They feel scratchy against your throat, and you cough once the water washes them down. "I just need to sleep it off, right?"

"Yes," She mumbles. "I'm so sorry!"

"No," You stare up. "That's on me for catching a fever again. Thank you."

"O-of course," She keeps the door unlocked as she leaves, and you fall back asleep. You're uncomfortable. Your whole body is freezing, yet you have two blankets on top of you. At times like this, you can't help but miss your mom. At least she had everything on hand and could tell when you were about to get sick. You don't remember the last time she had panicked over you, but you always remember the soup she made. Ugh, now you want some.

Sometime before the sun sets completely, the door opens again. You whimper at the breeze and pull the covers over you. The person walks around the room, opening the window, taking the finished soup from the bedside drawer, and turning on the water. You stay in a zone between consciousness and unconsciousness, and you whimper as they finally pull the covers off.

"Come on," You wrap your arms around their neck as you're lifted off the bed.

"I'm going to get you sick..."

"Doesn't matter."

"Wait," You squint at the figure and pause at the sight of Hinata. "I can bathe myself."

"I'm not going to violate you, if that's what you wanted to ask. I need to cool your skin down, and we don't have enough alcohol to wipe you down."

"My mom used to do that," You slur as he sits you in the tub. "She used to wipe be own with alcohol pads when I got sick."

Hinata turns the showerhead on, and you droop as he has the water run down your back.

Your eyes flutter from the warmth, and Hinata catches your head before you pass out.

"Sorry."

"I'll wash you, so don't worry about it."

You don't know how long you sit in the tub, but when your eyes open again, Hinata's sitting next to your bed, screwing at another piece of machinery. You turn your head to stare at him.

"Stop doing that."

"No."

"Stop tinkering with the old DS." You mumble. "You're not going to be able to load Chiaki on that."

"It's not to load her."

"It won't connect to internet."

"It will."

"You're like a child," You shift to stare back up at the ceiling.

"In a way, aren't you the same?"

"Yeah," You mumble. "The world hates children."

"Only those who don't understand the value." Hinata places the screwdriver down. "Chiaki was the one who called for Mikan."

"Thank you," You mumble into the air to no one in particular.

Your eyes flutter shut again.

When you wake up next, Hinata is eating dinner.

"I have your soup," He sets his bowl down on the drawer and helps you sit up.

"I'm not weak to that point." You mumble, but you don't fight him.

"I know," Hinata grabs your bowl, blowing on the spoon to cool the soup. "But it's what you need."

"What I want," You open your mouth and swallow as Hinata helps you drink. "Not what I need."

"What you need." Hinata mumbles. "Just like you had sat in my room until I woke up after the incidents."

"Which one?" You laugh dryly. "The one when the big TV fell on your head? The one where you almost cracked your head open and scared the shit out of everyone? The one where—"

"All of them," Hinata presses the spoon to your lips again. "Every single one of them, you took care of me like this."

"I know," You swallow. "Let me drink it myself."

"I'll hold the bowl," Hinata hands you the spoon, and you drink. Hinata's eyes stay fixated on your throat as you swallow. You're embarrassed. You're an adult now, for life's sake. You're supposed to take care of yourself when you're sick, not have someone else take care of you.

"What are we?"

Hinata stares at you.

"Unlabeled."

"Well no shit," You choke on the last syllable, and Hinata pats your back. "I'm asking for a reason."

"I don't know what we are," He stares at you. "You didn't give me a label either."

"Well," You pause. "vent buddies? No. We're not that. You're nothing like my other friend. I didn't want to fuck that friend."

"You want tofuckme?"

"Huh, I guess I've never told you," You stare into his soul. "Some days I think of you folding me in half over a restaurant table."

Hinata sputters at your straightforwardness as you lie back down in the bed.

"So what are we?"

"Mutual pining. That's the term, right?"

"You think about fucking me?"

"No." Hinata pauses. "Well, yes, but not the same way you do—"

"You want to get pegged?"

"Can you let me finish?" Hinata sighs. You bat your lashes at him, and he presses a hand to your forehead to check your temperature. "I don't, but there's a reason I'm always the one taking care of things in your room when it could be Souda fixing it."

"Ah," You stare at him, eyes wide. "You like me too."

"Sure." Hinata mumbles. "Now, go back to sleep. Your fever is reducing."

"That's good," You smile. "Does that mean we're dating?"

You don't hear Hinata's answer when you drift off.

Hinata stares at your resting form, and he glances at the clock on the wall. He could stay up the entire night, but you'd probably scold him for that. Well, not that it mattered. You'd be good to go in the morning. He has to go back to fixing the broken speaker in Komaeda's room that he left alone to sit with you. You seem drunk when sick. He finds that cute, he supposes.

The night passes as Hinata falls asleep in the chair, and you wake up to the male's head slipping. You slide a pillow between his neck and head and toss a blanket over him, heading off to shower. You feel better. You still feel like shit, but better. You'd have to thank him later. Hinata worked tirelessly around the island. He at least deserved someone who could take care of him.

You wonder, though, if he just wasn't hearing the call.

When you step out, Hinata's awake, staring at you owlishly.

"You know, it's a miracle you can control how aroused you get," You brush past him to change into actual clothes. Hinata takes the towel from you as he glances at your bare skin.

"I can't," He exhales. "I'm about to shower after you."

You cough, embarrassed. "You're gonna shower without me?"

"We can shower together next time," He ruffles your hair as he steps into the bathroom.

The sun's in the sky when you step out of the hut with Hinata. You stare up, holding a hand up to block the sun.

"A tropical storm is approaching in four days."

"You can smell it?"

Hinata pauses. "Well, kind of. It's also just from the storm patterns in the area."

"When's our next batch of supplies coming in?"

"This week," Hinata checks his phone, and you pause.

"We are..."

"We're dating," Hinata smiles. "We're dating now."

"Okay!" You yell, throwing fists into the air. "We're dating!"

"We're dating." Hinata imitates your fists.

You beam at him. "We're dating."

There's something strange about living with others. You don't remember the last time it felt like you lived with someone other than yourself, and you struggle to remember there are two people in the hut now. You stare at Hinata each morning, your stomach churning at the sight of him all vulnerable next to you. You could kill him if you wanted to. You could press a blade to his neck and wreak havoc on the island like a proper writer. You could learn so much just from a single person.

But your stomach churns for another reason.

You don't deserve Hinata.

You sit in bed each morning, staring at Hinata, counting the freckles on his face as the sun rises from the east, heart heavy, wondering when Hinata's going to realize you're a bad person. You sit there counting the acne on his back, counting the number of times you've messed up around him. You love Hinata like the moon loves the sun, but you could never have him for yourself. It feels heartbreaking to know that you didn't deserve someone like him. You were nothing compared to the ultimate hope. You wrote stories for a living, overthinking like it was your job. You think of every possibility, never leaving one behind. The only difference was you wrote them into stories.

"Good morning." You smile as Hinata smiles at you.

"Good morning." He presses a kiss to your hand. "Ready to start the day?"

"Yeah."

It cycles, you think. You wake up earlier than Hinata, stare out the window, cycle through those vicious thoughts, and then forget about everything when Hinata presses a morning kiss to your skin. Some days, you lie awake in bed, heart heavy with melancholy. You miss your friends. You miss the people who did everything in their power to make sure you were alright and safe. Maybe you shouldn't have cut them off when you needed to work on yourself.

"You're thinking again," Hinata hands you a coffee from the vending machine. "What's up?"

"Coffee at 9?"

"It's hot chocolate."

"I hope it tastes like the ones from Starbucks," You mumble, pressing the metal to your lips.

"You're thinking again." Hinata sits next to you on the bench.

"Missing my old friends," You open your mouth, only closing it when you realize you don't have the right words. "I miss a handful of them."

"I'm sure you do." Hinata smiles. "That's normal."

"Maybe," You pause. "But I don't miss any of them. I miss every single toxic friend in my life that I've ever made. I miss the people that cut me out too."

"Did you do something wrong?"

"Plenty of things," You laugh bitterly. "So many things."

Hinata stares at you. "Did you ever apologize?"

"No." You exhale, sinking into the bench. "I never had the humility to do it."

Hinata opens his mouth to speak. "Well—"

"Aren't I such a bad person?" You smile at him. "I bullied people as a child, never apologized to them, killed my parents, and cut so many innocent people out of my life. I left my friends, tricked everyone into thinking I'm a good person, and now I even tricked you into dating me. I truly am incredible. I'm such... a bad... person..."

Hinata takes your hand into his, drawing gentle circles. "Do you think I'm unable to tell good from bad?"

"No," You grimace. "I just... not worth it."

Hinata draws little shapes on your palm, smiling affectionately at your hand as he does. "I once read that love is a choice."

He's using your words against you.

"You choose the people you stay with, even if it isn't in a romantic relationship." Hinata taps your palm twice. "That is what love is. Choices."

Behind you, the waves crash against the rocks, and Hinata continues.

"It was a choice to love you, and it was a choice to stay with you even after hearing everything you've told me. I am in love with you as much as someone can be in love with someone." Hinata presses your fingers to his lips. "You like this, right?"

Your eyes are still distant.

"Do I have to fuck you to convince you that you're worthy?"

You shake your head. "There's no need for that. You couldn't possibly think of—"

Hinata bites your fingers with his canines, staring you in the eye as he does.

"That's weirdly out of character."

"Aaaand there goes the tension." Hinata takes your fingers out, laughing along with you.

"You don't need to fuck me," You stand up, stretching your arms. "for me to feel loved."

"You want it, though."

"Sure." You stare at the speakers. "Maybe another day."

"Maybe during the storm?"

"Yeah," You turn to stare at him. "Definitely during the storm. By that time, I'll be able to scream all I want!! I'll get to cry abt howgoodyour dick is, and how you're the only one who can split me in—"

"That's enough," Hinata covers your mouth with his hand, ears burning. "I'll keep that in mind when you actually get fucked."

"Hoaw bigh arhe you," You speak against his palm, and he stares at you.

"You'll find out eventually."

Hinata walks you home, slowly, maybe. The two of you share a home now. Your home is as much of a home to him as it's a home to you. You still wonder if you tricked him into falling for you. You're not someone particularly special, still. Your talent is useless on this island, even if you knew a million things in theory. What use are you if you like putting things off? God, it's just like when your mom made you retake your exams so you'd get a better score, but you only ended up scoring the same.

"Talk it out."

"It's just a fleeting thought." You pause in place. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"I still want to hear it," Hinata pauses with you.

"I was thinking about. I was thinking about my last year at Hope's Peak."

"Mhm?"

"And how my inner child was never satisfied." You pause. "Even though she was spoiled with whatever she wanted. She lacked love."

"Did she?"

"So she was stuck staring at herself in the mirror, asking if she was the problem. She's not, I don't think so, but I understand why she would think that." You pause. "I was lazy for refusing to take the AP tests that would send me to the United States during college. I don't regret it, but I suppose I would've liked an apology from my mom."

Hinata frowns when you exhale.

"But the past is the past, and they aren't things worth mulling over."

"But they are things that you need to process."

"The only thing I can figure out right now is that I'm almosthappymy mom died."

Hinata chuckles. "That's not good."

"definitely! but I... my mom never really felt like my mom after I moved the first time. You watch your family fall apart, and you wonder if maybe you were the reason."

"Yeah," He pauses. "I wondered that too. But that's not the case."

"Definitely!" You clasp your hands together. "But that's only myfamilytrauma. I have plenty of tangled emotions when it comes to friends as well."

"Wanna talk?"

"I want sleep." You start back up, pulling Hinata along. "You better fuck me until I'm braindead when the storm hits."

"Why so?"

"So I can forget about my first love instead of processing it."

Hinata chuckles as you pull him along. "Will do."

When the sun sets to make way for the moon, your mind goes back to the past, wandering, thinking, praying, crying for some way to be able to change something. You wanted to cut people out earlier. You wanted to kill yourself. You wanted to do so many things, yet you never did a single one. Maybe everything could have been avoided if you had just stabbed yourself in the neck like you wanted to.

On other days, you brace yourself for when Hinata's going to break up with you. It should be exhausting to date you, you think.

When the storm hits, you ignore all warnings and step out into the rain, soaking from head to toe. You stare at the clouds above, heart strangely calm. Hinata would beat you if he were with you, you think. Well, maybe not beat. He'd definitely be worried. You're tired of a lot of things. You miss no one and nothing, and you no longer have a purpose in life. Maybe your next goal would be to get married and settle down, but you couldn't possibly fathom getting married. It was another thing, perhaps.

"There you are," Hinata holds the umbrella over the two of you, and you stare at him.

"I'd like to stay in the rain."

"I'll stay with you, then," He stands to the side as you run down the cement, and he follows behind as you throw your shoes off to feel the sand between your toes. He holds them in his free hand as you spin and sprint through the sand. It feels strange to him, but you have your reasons. You're soaked from head to toe, laughter louder than anything he's heard before, and he wonders if this was just another part of you.

"It's like washing away all your worries."

"The rain?"

"Yes."

Hinata stares at you fondly under the slams of the water from the sky, and he wonders if this could wash you off incredibly quickly. Maybe you'd feel better after the rain. Well, the two of you would have to shower. The rain was cleaner, sure, but it still wasn't clean. The acid spills from the tragedy are still hard to clean up, and sure, the earth is damaged beyond repair, but it's liveable. Hinata's seen more than enough plants sprout to know that earth is still inhabitable. But that was just humankind, he supposes: finding a way to live even on the brink of destruction.

You lie down in the sand, and Hinata steps close to you, staring down at you.

"Feel better?"

"Yes," You smile.

"Let's get back before the storm gets even worse."

"Will it?"

"Yes," Hinata holds the umbrella over your head, handing you the shoes. "We need to be inside at that point. I scheduled an announcement."

"Alright," You stand up, slipping your feet into the sandals, "Can we fuck?"

"After you shower."

"Can we fuck in the shower?"

Hinata sighs, dragging you along. "Let's warm you up first before you think about fucking."

"Alright," You hold onto his upper arm as he holds the umbrella, and the two of you go home.

☾﹠☽

"I wonder how you don't get hard," You close your eyes as Hinata's nails dig into your scalp to clean. "Do you not think I'm hot?"

"If you had to sit through how many times I get hard from you in a day, I think you'd think differently." Hinata feels the showerhead for temperature before he runs the water down your head.

"Really?"

"Yeah," He holds a hand to avert the bubbles from your eyes. "Right?"

You jolt as Hinata presses your back to his chest, and your eyes widen at the feeling.

"You're hard!"

"Yeah," He hums, changing the showerhead setting. Once the bubbles are out of the way, he holds you close to him by the thigh, pressing the showerhead at your clit, causing you to squeak.

"A-ah," You sputter. "What's— huh? It feels—"

Hinata chuckles lowly next to your ear, your legs twitching from the pressure. You wonder if Hinata is doing this to get back at you.

"You," You gasp. "Asshole!"

"You wanted this."

Your nails dig into his wrist as he leans closer, hooking an arm under your knee to hold you up as your legs give out. His other hand holds the showerhead to your clit, forcing the water pressure to hit you. The coil in your stomach tightens as your head is thrown back onto Hinata's shoulder as you feel something coming. Your voice wavers as he bites into your collar, and your nails leave marks as your orgasm crashes down on you.

Hinata lowers the pressure of the water, and he presses a gentle kiss to the bite mark before putting the showerhead back up. You lean against his frame, and he lowers your leg slowly.

"I hate you," You whimper, legs shaking.

"Stay still. I still need to condition your hair."

You reach behind you to smack him as he does, and Hinata purses his lips in amusement once you retract your hand.

"Close your mouth," He hums. "You're going to get the conditioner in your hair."

"You're as hard as a rock!"

"Which part?" You can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Your chest," You rub your knuckles as Hinata finishes with your hair. "I keep forgetting you're built like a boulder."

Hinata chuckles.

"Sit down," You turn around, forcing Hinata to his knees.

"Gonna sit on me?" You stare at him, forcing him on his ass, straddling him.

"Maybe later." You reach for the shampoo, nails digging into Hinata's scalp. "Is it too rough?"

"No." Hinata's eyes are closed as you continue. "You know, I miss life before Hope's Peak sometimes."

"Mhm," You hum, reaching for the showerhead.

"My middle school years were nice. My parents got along back then." He tilts his head back as you press the showerhead to his hair. "Though, I still felt like I wasn't enough since my parents were both ultimates."

"What were they?"

"A ballroom dancer..." Hinata opens his eyes to look at you. "and a theologist."

"Awful pairing," You pause. "Though I can see how they would work."

"They didn't work. They were both hot after surgery, and then they gave birth to me."

"You're hot, though?"

"Maybe to you." Hinata chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist. "But remember, I was just some guy before I was operated on."

"Still hot, though," You mumble, squirming as Hinata rests his hands on your waist. "It's not like they changed your bone structure or your face. Unless they did, and I didn't know."

"If they did that then they'd have to rewrite all the plans," Hinata reaches behind him to turn the water on.

You kneel up, hand reaching for his cock, pressing the tip to your pussy.

"You want to go raw?"

"They sent us plan b this time around," You blink at him for confirmation.

"Not yet," Hinata moves you onto your back, closing the water behind him. He runs his thumb down your labia, sliding a finger in slowly. Your breath hitches as he does, and Hinata presses a gentle kiss to your clit. You shudder at the feeling, and Hinata glances at you. "This is alright, right?"

"Yeah," You mumble. "Embarassed, but fine."

"Good," Hinata slides a second finger in, pressing on your walls. You squirm and pulse around him, and Hinata spreads your labia with his fingers, pressing his tongue plat against you. His fingers curl inside you as you pull on his hair, and he finds a pattern that gets you arching your back. Your mind hazes as he does, and you whimper, mouth open. Your heel digs into his back as you cum, and Hinata pulls his fingers out slowly, staring at the way your cum connects his fingers to you. His dick twitches at the sight. "How lewd."

You smack him playfully, face warm with embarrassment.

"Now," Hinata mumbles. "You should be wet enough."

He sits back as he pulls you to him. You get on your knees again, and you sink down slowly. Hinata presses his fingers into your waist, biting his bottom lip as you lower yourself. You choke once you take all of him in."Ah, fuck, you're big.Gimme a minute,ahto adjust, please."

Hinata rubs gentle circles on your waist as you squirm. He's thick.

You're glad he got you wet beforehand, but you wonder if you'd actually get split in half from his cock. You pulse around Hinata from the thought. "Mhm." You exhale finally. "You're big."

"Am I?"

"Very," You wrap your arms around his neck. "You're really hot too."

"Well," Hinata reaches behind him to turn off the water, and you squeal as he lifts you. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctually, and he sighs. "If you really say so." He adjusts your arms over his shoulders and holds a hand under your ass to support you.

"Are we going to bed?"

"I'm going to fuck you stupid," He leans in next to your ear. "And you're going to be screaming louder than the storm outside, and everyone's going to hear how much of a whore you are for me." You clench around him, and Hinata hums. "You like it."

"Mhm," You're practically drooling at this point. His eyes follows yours to where the two of you are connected, and a smirk graces his face.

"What do you want me to do, sweetheart?"

You stare up at him, eyes wide. "You can't be serious."

"Hm?"

"Hinata, please."

He stares down at you. "Nothing? I can pull out right no—"

"No!" You tighten your arms around his shoulder. "I want... I want you to fuck me."

"Come on, use your words."

"I want you to fuck me stupid," You stare at him, desperate. "Rail me so good and pump me so full that the plan b won't even work. Please, please,please."

"There you go," He smiles. "Good job, precious."

You gasp as he pulls out and thrusts back in, and you shake as he finally places you in bed.

His thumbs dig into your hips as he holds your legs over his shoulders, folding you into the bed. You gasp as he forces himself deeper into you, and you grab at the sheets, knuckles turning white as he starts thrusting. Your lips part, words turning into incomprehensible noises. His cock's making it hard to think. Your mind blurs as you lay there, and your gasps turn sharp as you feel your stomach tightening again. There's no way he was making you cum this fast.

"S-slow down," You gasp, nails digging into the sheets. "'s, 's too much!"

"You can take it, right? I know you can, sweetheart." Hinata mumbles into your ear, and he hisses as you cum around him. He presses a kiss to your jaw, mumbling sweetly into your ear, "You're so good for me, right? Look at you, listening so well for me. I think you deserve a little reward, hm?"

You move your arms to warp around his neck, and Hinata smiles.

"You're so pretty," You mumble, whimpering as Hinata slides out slightly.

"Am I?"

"Gorgeous," You gasp as Hinata bounces you on his cock again, and you grimace from how sensitive you are. Your mind blanks, and you barely register what you're saying, even if Hinata understood. "Pretty, so pretty... you're so dazzling... hic, Hajime! hot... perfect! I,mm, don't think I could,hah, live with—out you!"

Hinata chuckles, smiling gently.

"Is that so?"

"MhM!" Your head digs into the crook of his neck, and you bite. "My pretty Haji."

Hinata hisses from the feeling of your teeth, and his thrusting grows erratic as he gets closer. "You're pretty too, precious. You're so good for me, you know? You're always there in the morning when I wake up, and you're always waiting for me to open up. God, you're gorgeous, you know?"

You whine as you clench around him harder.

"Only you, darling." Hinata digs his fingers into your waist as you cum, sending Hinata over the edge as well. His hips dig into yours, and he bites into your neck, you whimper into his neck, and Hinata sets you into the bed gently, almost as if handling a newborn.

Your eyes droop as Hinata leaves to grab the towel to wipe you down.

"Do you have energy to shower?"

"After four orgasms?" You stare at him.

"I'll carry you back. You're going to feel disgusting in the morning."

"Alright," You yawn, leaning on Hinata as he hooks his arms under your back and knees. "Can I suck your tits next time?"

Hinata chokes. "Really?"

"Really." You mumble. "Sorry for making you shower twice."

"Don't be," He smiles. "I wouldn't have gone along if I didn't want to."

"Mmk," You close your eyes. "You know, Hinata, I think I know what you are now."

"You didn't know what I was?"

"You're average," You grin, reaching up at him once he sets you in the water. "You're the most painfully average guy I know."

"Still?"

"No, you're average in the perfect way. In the end, perfect still suffers, so I suppose you're just as average as some superhuman can get," You lean on his chest as he rubs the bubbles down your back. "I wonder how we're dating."

"Because you're beautifully average in your own way," Hinata hums, the vibrations traveling down your skin. "You're just any other student on this island, and your background is what sent you here with the rest of us, right?"

"I suppose," You smile.

A silence covers the two of you as Hinata finishes washing you, and you sit back as you watch him scrub himself. You feel safe in this small hut. You missed the feeling of warmth spreading through your chest. Hinata was your home now. Just as he had chosen to stay when you were sick, you had chosen to stay with him. Hajime Hinata loved you vivaciously. His hands were warm on your skin, and his hands were warm holding onto yours. Hajime Hinata was the embodiment of the sun as you had adored him to pieces as the moon. Maybe he had heard you call. Perhaps the way he stood in front of you was proof of it.

You stretch your arms out as Hinata helps you into a robe, and you yawn. "Hinata, have you ever seen a whale?"

"In person?" He helps you close the robe.

"Yea." You hum.

"No," Hinata ties the belt around your waist and ties his own. "Do you want me to carry you?"

"No," You follow him as he leaves the bathroom, and he helps you into the bed. Pulling the covers over you, he pulls the string to turn the master light off. Sliding into bed next to you, he closes the lamp. You stare at the way his pecs peek from behind his robe. Next time.

"You know," You blink, realizing your exhaustion. "I once read about a whale who kept calling but never got an answer."

Hinata rolls on his side, tracing mindless circles on your skin. "The 52 hertz whale?"

"Yea," You hum. "It got a friend recently according to marine biologists."

"Really?"

"Another whale called back," You smile, rolling onto your side to smile at Hinata.

Hinata wraps his arms around you, eyes closing as he breathes in your skin. You're cool against his skin, and he welcomes the feeling.

"Thank you for responding," You mumble, eyes closing.

"Thank you for calling." He smiles, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your eye. "Good night, love. I'll see you in the morning."

"Sweet dreams, pretty boy." You lean into his chest. "Love you."

"Love you too."