#& using it as inspiration for a birthday situation

[starlostseungmin]

after all this time? always — kim seungmin.

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　model!seungmin x interior designer fem!reader (she/her pronouns).

SUMMARY: 　in which seungmin was wise to plan your engagement in a haste without you suspecting him.

GENRE & WARNING/S:　 fluff, established relationship, another wedding au from me, seungmin is in love, chan, hyunjin and felix cameo, a little bit emotional, reader is suffering from a headache, swearing, kissing, light mentions of alcohol, fluff, just fluff, semi-proofread because my head has been hurting.

WORD COUNT: 　7.3k

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　inspired by tasaki and harry winston seungmin, i wrote this down in a rush because of the previous event that seungmin attended and he looks soooo good! i also want to thank @arrasuh for helping me out ily mwah. i know you guys are expecting something else but this is the final fic for seungmin’s birthday and i hope you like it! happy birthday to my beloved puppy !! don’t forget to reblog and leave feedback.

“I’ll be out late tonight so don’t wait for me and rest, okay love?” Seungmin said as you watched him wear his shoes by the entryway while holding the ice bag above your head. A heavy sigh escaped from your lips frowning at him but he’s too understanding to shrug it off. 

“I’m so sorry for being sick, Min. I know you’re looking forward to this event.” You groan in response with that distressed look on your face. Seungmin sighs with a smile before taking you into his arms, kissing your forehead making you look at him. 

It was disappointing that youーsomehowーmanaged to get sick the night before the 70th anniversary of a jeweler from Japan that Seungmin got invited to attend. You were supposed to be his plus one but getting nauseous and suffering from a strong headache didn’t want you to experience a private event with your model boyfriend. The regret and being displeased enveloped your emotions that you had to apologize to him multiple times because of your damned situation even though he already said that it wasn’t your fault you got an unbearable headache before his unannounced public appearance. 

“Baby, it’s fine. I understand and we’re not expecting this to happen.” He said and earned another sigh of dismay from you. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call Felix over so he can take care of you while I’m gone?” He asked as you shook your head in response. “Okay, you’ll be fine alright?” 

“Yes.” You nodded firmly. “I’ll make it up to you next time, Min. I promise.” You frowned as he gave you a quick kiss before pulling away. 

“No need to baby. Take care, okay? I’ll be back before 12.” He said, twisting the doorknob. “Love you!” He smiled, showing those perfectly shaped teeth he had to suffer from braces for three years. 

“Love you too!” And with that, you watched his figure disappear behind the doors of your shared apartment as you sighed heavily in return. 

You felt guilty about it. The first thing he ever did was to take care of you even though you knew he was going to have a busy schedule today and him, leaving at this hour is not something you are used to. Blame that work Chan had asked you to do because ‘the client picked you after you made a great remark on the previous condominium design’ he said. It wasn’t that you’re ungrateful, you’ve been working nonstop because you can’t decide which specific design you are going to present. Being indecisive is the last thing you want to do and because of it, this is the result: A fucking headache. 

Being an interior designer made you spend all-nighters the past few nights while Seungmin was out there doing photoshoots and making brand deals (if that is what he really is up to) leaving you alone in the apartment to brainstorm and make a sketch. Well, you are quite thankful for having a job like this because if it wasn’t for Hyunjin who recommended you when Seungmin was looking for someone to take charge of the design of his new apartment, you wouldn’t be here right now. 

You moved in with Seungmin a year and a half after you met at a meeting to design his new home. The man got smitten at first hello and was persuaded with interestーlistening to every detail and measurement inside his walls. From the color to the furniture to their placements, he didn’t complain and agreed with everything you suggested because he already knew that you could handle what was best for his unique taste. Ultimately, he fell in love with the final look and invited you to attend one of the events he’s modeling for as a form of ‘thank you’. It wasn’t long after that when you and him started dating. 

And that was five years ago. 

Five heavenly years, going six. 

You wondered if the thought of marriage had come across Seungmin’s mind during the past year…but who are you to rush things when work has been drowning you from the start? 

Only a heavy sigh was the thing you could do at the moment and wished him a great night before falling into a deep slumber after your back hit the soft foam of your couch and let the ice bag rest on your forehead. It was already past lunch and Seungmin had to leave early for his hair and makeup. You hated the fact that you were missing out but you couldn’t force your body to stay outside and meddle in his business. Still, you wanted to witness how his stylist would dress him up tonight and that, you just accepted your fate. 

Hours later, Seungmin was welcomed with lights and cameras flashing the moment he stepped out of the car with his manager along the way. All black from top to toe, pearl earrings, a necklace around his pretty neck, and a ring adorned his fingerーhe looked magnificent as he walked gracefully alone by the hallway, like the model that he already is. 

The endless handwaves, his dashing smile, photo ops, it was safe to say that he wished you were there with him. Although, he understands the fact that you got sick and you hated the crowd. But at the same time, he’s quite relieved to be going alone. The media was eyeing him that night. An A-list model being invited to such an event is a great eye candy. He stood out the most among every guest at the venue, smiling and making everyone fall for him. The unending flashing of cameras in front made his fit shine with the silver background with the word ‘TASAKI 70th anniversary’ on it, and the jewelry that the stylist picked that would suit him. He was good at his job, mainly a professional who knows how to handle the media. With just one smile, a nod, a wave, a polite bow, and a poseーSeungmin is not just any other model out there. 

He got busy along the way with a decent (tons) amount of interviews for them to post something on social media, the shoots, magazine opportunities, and the ‘trying out of their products’ session to show them offーhe was occupied. It’s going to be one heck of a night for him but for sure, he’ll enjoy it in his own way somehow. He would try to survive another event alone for a while. Lucky for him, those overwhelming activities cascaded when he was assisted by a lady who was in charge of taking him around. He is gestured politely to leave the photo op. area and was taken to the display along with a few bodyguards and his manager tailing him. 

When they reached the rings section, he tried to focus on the lady who introduced him to the different jewelry that this event could show off for its anniversary. He immediately thought of you while browsing and unbeknownst to your knowledge, he had a plan in mind. 

Seungmin acted with interest and curiosity with the jewels. He nodded while listening to the lady as she explained the different types of rings to him as he fell on the thought of which of them was perfect for you. The truth is he’s been planning to propose after your fourth anniversary as he was sure that you are the one that he’s ready to spend the rest of his life with but work got in the way. And for almost two years, he’s been measuring the size of your ring finger whenever you were asleep or from an innocent touch of your hands being intertwined with his. He may or may not have stolen a ring from your vanity without your permission just be sure the moment he was informed about the event. 

“So these exquisite rings are designed for women, especially during special occasions like engagements and weddings…” It was a blur for Seungmin as his eyes scanned the display. The idea of proposing did come to mind after spending six heavenly years with you. It’s just that, he couldn’t find a great time to do so just because of a rigged schedule of his. After all, he’s wanted to keep it a secret this one time. 

He was distracted by a specific ring that made him look at the one he was wearing. It wasn’t the type of ring that is used for a formal occasion, but the one that you place on top of them. He leaned forward to the glass to take a better look, both diamonds and pearls were captivating. You did mention that you like rings that would match your outfits when you go outside, it doesn’t matter whether it’ll catch attention or someone might mistake you as someone’s fiance. Seungmin loved the idea but this one is not about style anymore, but is to make the second option to become a reality.

“So, what’s the difference between pearls and diamonds in terms of getting them for a wedding proposal?” He asked with eyes fixated on the rings

“That’s a good question! Actually, pearls are traditional. If you give your girlfriend a pearl ring for your engagement, it symbolizes purity and happiness. It gives protection and eternal love. Pearls are common in weddings too.” The lady said as he gave her an invested nod. “Diamonds are for mutual commitment and everlasting love, they’re common for engagements.” 

“They’re both perfect.” He said. 

There was this smile that painted Seungmin’s lips as he looked at every ring on the display and one of them caught his attention. He tried not to be obvious about it and never left his spot even if the lady already stopped explaining the set. His eyes were fixed on a certain ring that he was dying to buy. The ring he stole stayed still inside one of his pockets and he immediately pulled out to show it to her. He did remember the time when you went to Japan for a vacation two years ago and happened to pass by a jewelry shop that you could barely remember the name but to Seungmin, it was this exact brand. You both wanted promise rings so you went to browse for a bit. 

[ “Look, Min. They’re so pretty!” You said pointing at those beautiful rings on display with your eyes sparkling like a character from an anime. “The balance duo pearl and diamond ring in that color (sakura gold) is pretty.”

“Do you want a pair? Which one do you like?” He asked and was ready to take his wallet from his pocket but he saw you shake your head in response. “Why not?” 

“They’re not promise ring material. It’s sort of…hmm for weddings and engagements so maybe next time? If we’re still together for the next few years to come!” You laughed as he chuckled in response. 

“I would never break up with you, Y/N.” He said as you smiled at him. Unbeknownst to your knowledge, he already has it listed on his notes app. ]

“Are you planning to purchase one of these tonight, Mr. Kim?” She asked with an anticipated smile as Seungmin came back to the present.

“I’m about to but, I’m not sure if these pieces here are for sale.” He said while fidgeting the ring on his fingers. 

“We have stocks in the private room where we keep different sizes of these rings. The ones we have here are fixed sizes. Which one do you want?” 

“I want the one on the left, the balance duo pearl and diamond ring. The sakura gold.” He said as the lady’s smile grew to her ears. 

“You know what you want. Right this way, Mr. Kim.” She said and left the rings section to the private rooms. The lady already knew the purpose of him asking her about the rings and making a wise decision impromptu was just a thrilling moment to witness. Seungmin is the type to plan something in secret without getting caught and the fact that you didn’t even notice your missing ring made it more natural. 

“It is for my girlfriend.” He said and showed them the ring to measure the exact size of your finger. “I want it polished and neat so I can take it home tonight.” He added. 

“Yes, Mr. Kim.” The staff was quick enough to make the purchase and wrapped the ring immediately. Seungmin was so keen on picking the right ring with the perfect sizeーknowing him, he’s a perfectionist. 

“Make sure no one finds out about this and don’t tell Y/N. Make them sign an NDA.” He whispered to his manager. “I’m calling Chan hyung in later, please watch over the transaction here’s my card.” He added as he handed him his card and was assisted by the organizer to come and join them at the dining hall for the formal dinner.

Seungmin stayed there for a while. He was accompanied by fellow guests in the dining area where he had to do other transactions and meetings. The night is still young yet the social interactions get a little bit overwhelming. Seungmin admitted that he’s not the type to party and just sits in the corner of the room to greet anyone who passes by. His manager was nowhere to be found and he was busy eating his dinner with a few colleagues at the same table. 

“So, any plans on settling down?” A who was sitting beside him asked making Seungmin chuckle in response. 

“I hope so, we’re not getting any younger.” Seungmin said that made everyone laugh. Yes, I do have. Sighs. 

With all the small conversations, business smiles, group pictures, and discussion of plans. He had enough of it and wanted the night to end. If you were there, he would ignore everyone around him and focus on you. The idea of longing suddenly hit him and maybe if Hyunjin did mind accompanying him, it would be less boring too. 

Not long after that, he excused himself and went to make a phone call near the private rooms. He knew he had to call Chan for follow-ups. He walked a few meters away and smiled at the people whom he just encountered as he took his phone out, trying to make a phone call. He poked his inner cheek as a hand shoved in his pocket while the other one was holding his phoneーpressing it to his ear. The media was taking lots of pictures and videos again with Seungmin calling someone over the phone. There was this glass wall barrier that made the gap between him and the rest of the people outside. He was so serious about the call that everyone was curious about the conversation. 

“Hyung, hi. How’s the venue?” He asked. 

“It’s going well. The blueprint was out a few days ago and we’re almost done. We need Y/N to come over tomorrow for the finishing touches so we can start the preparations.” Chan answered. 

“I’ll ask her when I get home. She’s pretty sick right now, I can’t force her to go to work.” Seungmin sighed as he massaged his temples. 

“Alright. We can schedule it for a later date if you can’t come tomorrow but call me again if you make any changes. We’re already finalizing the arrangements.” The older man added as Seungmin bit his lower lip fidgeting his ring, getting anxious at the moment. 

“Hyung, are you sure this will work? I mean, I don’t want this relationship to get any extensions without giving Y/N a ring. I’m serious about her.” Seungmin said, leaning back on the wall and sighed again. 

“As long as you won’t say anything, Seungmin. It will be fine. Besides, Y/N has been working nonstop on the interior of the venue for the past week, so I’m sure she’ll be happy. And you’re crazy enough to make her design the proposal venue.” Seungmin laughed at it. 

That hour, you were wide awake after realizing you’d spent the whole afternoon through the evening asleep. You sprinted out of the couch to get your phone only to be spammed by Seungmin’s pictures from the event in all media platforms as possible. It made your heart leap like frogs celebrating joy when it rains and the blush in your cheeks came in to be hot as if you’ve taken large amounts of alcohol. 

His hair was styled with jel making it look like it was wet, especially his bangs that fall on his forehead, that damn sating suit that exposes a little bit of chest with that pearl necklace, the heels of his fucking shoes, and his face card? You are one crazy (unknowingly) soon-to-be fiance. His new haircut made it more beautiful and if comes home wearing that exact suit, you won’t be able to hold yourself and kiss him like no other. 

You called him immediately after that and lucky for you, Chan just ended the call. Seungmin smiled upon reading the new ID calling on his screen and swiped the answer button in a heartbeat. He wasn’t expecting you’d call him on a schedule and you know you shouldn’t but the excitement you felt is going to burst if you won’t scream at him (lovingly). 

“Hey baby,” He smiled even though he knows you can’t see it. 

“Seungmin, my love! I just saw the press’s photos and you look so good!” You squealed. “I suddenly feel better now that I know how you look tonight. It’s such a shame I couldn’t see you at the event.” You added as you walked around in circles around your living room. 

“Do you like it?” He smirked. 

“Babe, the word ‘like’ wouldn’t give it justice. I love it and I love you.” You said. It was endearing to hear your voice despite him being busy. Aside from it sounding so cute and hyped, he longed for your presence at times like this. It made him shy and laughed through the line as your smile got bigger. “Are you almost done?” 

“I will be home in a few minutes love. The event started a bit late and I’m just finalizing something then I’ll be on my way.” He reassured as your hand tightened its grip on your phone. 

“Don’t rush, Min. Will I see you with that fit when you come home?” You asked. 

“You most definitely will.” He said. “I love you, Y/N.” 

You didn’t know why a tear suddenly fell from your eyes that made you sit back down on the couch. There was something about that ‘I love you’ that made you emotional at some point. It is almost six years for you and him but there is no ring yet. How many times did Seungmin make you cry just because of a simple ‘I love you’? Many times, indeed. Multiple even. He is the perfect man for you and there’s no one could ever replace him in your heart. 

There were times you fought but it didn’t get to a certain level of toxicity and you’re thankful that Seungmin is the type to resolve a fight before going to bed. You weren’t in a rush to get married but you still wonder why Seungmin hadn’t asked you yet. On the other hand, you have to understand the barriers of this relationship for the past six years. He had given you those amazing years despite the busy schedule you both have. It doesn’t matter if you wed in a few months or a year, being together is all that matters. 

“I will wait for you to come home, Min.” You said in the most soothing voice. Your excitement cools down and is later replaced by longing, you can’t wait for him to come home. One single hug and a kiss would suffice. 

“I’ll send you a picture before I leave, okay love?” He said as you nodded in response albeit the fact that he won’t see it. 

“Okay, get home safely Min.” 

“I will and I’ll see you in a bit.” The phone call was cut off when Seungmin was called by his manager while holding a small shopping bag in one hand and left the area. Soon he was assisted back to the main venue and asked for the ring. His manager took out the small box and showed the dashing diamond and pearl being attached on top in one decent metal without getting the attention of the media. “This is good. Can you keep it for me? I don’t want Y/N to suspect me when I get home.”

“Of course, when will you pick this up?” His manager asked upon returning it to the bag. 

“I will call you,” Seungmin answered. 

“Okay then, I’m going to get the car ready. Are you sure you won’t stay for the after-party?” 

“No, I’m going home.” He said as the manager nodded and headed outside. 

Seungmin was later assisted by his bodyguards and bid goodbyes to the organizer and the rest of the staff telling them that he had a good time. He walked out of the venue with a polite smile and bows as he waved back to his fans who were screaming his name. The videos and pictures are already all over the place and he couldn’t wait to see your reaction once he gets home. He sat down in the backseat as his manager drove him back to your shared apartment and he didn’t forget about the picture he promised to send. 

“No one is looking at that damn ring, Kim Seungmin.” You muttered as you received the picture. It was just him sending a picture showing off his ring with his hand covering his mouth and half of his nose. You’ve sent a lot of emojis and memes in return as he chuckled with him getting shy about it while admiring how adorable you were. He couldn’t wait to hug you and smother you with kisses by the time he stepped into the entryway. 

Seungmin couldn’t contain his smile as he hurried to get on your floor the moment his manager dropped him off by the entrance and when he decided to open the door, he was welcomed by an excited hug. He was caught off guard but later laughed in response as he took you again in his arms, hugging you tightly. 

“I missed you.” He said as he buried his face on your neck. 

“We only saw each other this noon, Min.” You answered, kissing the side of his head before pulling away. “How’s the event? You look so good, by the way. You’re so handsome. My baby!” You cried with invisible tears feeling hyped about him. 

“Thanks love. It was bearable but good.” He answered as he kissed your lips. “I couldn’t wait to go home. How are you feeling?” 

“I’m better now.” You kissed him back. “Did you eat?” 

“I did but not that much. Are you hungry?” He asked, giving you another kiss on the forehead. 

“A little, I just woke up from a nap. Well, I don’t consider it a nap.” You huffed. “And I was about to cook but I got excited waiting for you.” You smiled at him as he giggled. 

“I’ll cook for you.” He said as he went to the kitchen where you followed him.

“No, you’re tired. I’m fine, you wash up and rest.” You argued. 

“I’m not the one fresh from a migraine, baby so sit down and let me cook.” He said playfully hitting you with a ladle while rummaging through the fridge making you frown in response. “Oh and by the way, Chan hyung called.” 

“What’s up?” 

“He asked if you could come visit the venue tomorrow. That is if you’re feeling better. We can re-schedule it.” He said with his broad back facing you and if you were really feeling better, it still feels like you are in a haze for having to admire his physique and that damn suit with his left ear pierced. Seungmin couldn’t hear a sound from you a few seconds after he asked when he decided to turn around and had you daydreaming. “Baby?” 

“Shush, I’m still trying to process how hot you look.” You said with that hypnotized smile with Seungmin snapping his fingers in front of your face. “No!” You whined in response. 

“Babe, you always see me wearing this type of clothes.” He laughed. 

“I do but it’s not every day I get to witness you being like this and this is one of your biggest events this year!” You argued. “And I love you in a suit. You did well at the event by the way.” You pouted, making him leave a kiss on your lips. 

“Are you sure you feel fine? Because you’re so sickly in love with me.” He smirked making you smack his arm playfully and roll your eyes only to return it with another kiss to shut you up. 

You melted in his touch and tasted the champagne he had from the formal dinner. His hand snaked around your waist to pull you closer to his body with his other hand cupping your jaw while tilting his head to the side for more access. Your hands reached for his sleeves, gripping them with your fingers as you moved your lips along with hisーfeeling the desperation and longingness. Seungmin’s lips linger longer, not wanting to let go of the moment. 

Soon he felt your hands wrapped around his neck as he deepened the kiss to savor the lost time with you. He hated to go to these events alone, especially without your presence. You also admit that you don’t want him to leave during the times when you need him the most. Seungmin on the other hand wanted to make up and not just by letting your lips dance together with your arms tangled around to keep your bodies warm and full of fondness. 

He loved every bit of moment you two have; whether it be a serious one or just playful. He loved everything that involves you. It doesn’t matter if you are fresh out of being sick, his lips didn’t want to leave yours as it makes him pull you closer even more. You smiled between the kiss as your fingers played with his supposedly wet locks that made him sigh on your mouth and went for a deeper one while biting your lower lip earning a soft moan from you. He pulled away and gave a peck on your lips before landing another one on your forehead as he took you again in his arms. 

“I love you so much.” He said. 

“I love you more.” You smiled against his chest while sniffing the lingering smell of his perfume. “And I love how you smell like.” 

“You love me that much, huh?” He smirks. Being in love with him is an understatement. No words can describe and match what you feel about him because you and Seungmin, himself, knew that it is much more than the word ‘love’.

“I always do but the food won’t cook itself if you’re going to keep flirting with me.” You told him as he laughed in return. 

“After this, I’ll wash up so we can eat. But you didn’t answer my question earlier love.” He said. 

“Oh right. Yes. I can visit tomorrow.” You smiled. “Chan left a message. He said I can come in the morning. Will you go with me? He said I have to meet the client by the afternoon so I don’t think I can come home early.” 

“In the morning? No. I need to take this suit back to my stylist and sign a few papers. But I can drop by in the afternoon.” Seungmin nodded. Way to go, Seung. One more lie and then you’ll be considered as a pathological liar. 

“Oh, that’s not a problem at all. I’ll be with Chan.” 

You indeed spent the next morning with Chan, your assistant, at the venue having to organize the remaining touches. Surprisingly, you are not supervising an apartment’s design but a venue for a wedding proposal. The alleged client hasn’t arrived yet, the only bridge you have with them is Chan. It’s not like you are suspicious but having to organize an engagement is not something you’d expect as an interior designer for homes, not a venue for a specific occasion. Either way, you are enjoying doing the set-up and couldn’t wait to witness a proposal. 

Chan was the one who supervised the venue while you rested as he sent all the measurements and FaceTimed you for a visual take these past days. Also, there’s this unexplainable smile plastered on your face as you gathered the materials for the finishing touch and guided the staff on where to put specific furniture in their places. And since you were informed that today is the day for both the client and his partner to announce their engagement, you are already dressed up in a white elegant dress with an over-lapping top-like vest. The length ended up in your mid calvesーthe right length for a formal event; not too long and not too short with your hair styled into (style of your choice) as a formality. 

You didn’t have any new dresses to wear and didn’t get a chance but a new one because of this damned schedule but little did you know, Seungmin brought you one. The dress laid by the end of the bed is what you see after getting out of the shower this morning. Confused as you are, you didn’t notice it earlier, or if Seungmin purposely leave it there when you weren’t looking. It was quite weird yet he was a lifesaver. 

The chandeliers were high as they matched the white sheer drapes hanging on the ceiling. The flowers were ordered based on the soon-to-be bride’s taste which happened to be your favorite flowers too with every color possible. From the lights to the floor plan, everything was based on the sketch you made that caused your headache but you are satisfied with the outcome of the venue. The client said that they wanted it to be special as you may add some personal touch which you did. 

You thought about Seungmin at some point. How would he make such a proposal if this ever crosses his mind? Will he see the hint when he gets here and watch the client propose to their partner? But then, just like any other careerman, he wouldn’t consider this for now. It hurts you a little bit after all this time of being in a relationship with him and yet he didn’t give you any ring, neither a promise ring just like you told him when you visited Japan two years ago. Yet, you’re happy with what you have right now. A wedding or no wedding, Seungmin is one faithful who cherishes you. Or that’s what you thought. 

“So, uhm, what time will he be here?” You asked Chan who is currently looking at the list of the things to be finished by the time the ‘client’ gets here. 

“Who?” Chan asked innocently, scratching the back of his head with the pen he was using. 

“The client?” You huffed. “You said he’ll be here. It’s almost 5.” Chan immediately glanced at his wristwatch and mentally cursed at himself. 

“That’s odd, he should be here to check. Let me make a call.” Chan said as he excused himself to go outside. You cocked your head as your hands rested on your waist with your tongue poking your cheek trying to be optimistic about what’s going to happen in a few moments. Being late is not your forte but it’s not my proposal anyway, you thought, and Seungmin is even not here yet. 

“Ms. Y/N?” Someone called as it took your attention. 

“Yes?” You asked, turning around to see the intern standing by the center part of the venue (where the client will ask their partner). 

“There’s something wrong in this set of flowers, Ma’am.” The intern said nervous about what she just said. 

You sigh gently in response as you take your way in her direction to check and while you’re at it, that was the signal Chan needed. He didn’t go out of the venue to make a phone call but to tell Seungmin it was his time to go inside as the intern distracted you with the flower problem. There was indeed, a flower problem. The colors didn’t match with the other sets and you were quite annoyed about the small detail being ruined. 

“I’m sorry, the florist probably messed up this set.” The intern said. It was on purpose. Everyone is involved.

“No, it’s fine. We can still fix it. I need some scissors.” You said. 

Seungmin took his chance while you were distracted. He hurriedly took out the ring and quietly stood behind you without making it obvious. The other staff and Chan, including Hyunjin who came to witness such an event gathered in their places for the surprise. Seungmin’s heart is beating faster and he did take time to dress up for his special occasion. With a black coat with a white polo inside, the black slacks paired up with black shoes, and a watch around his left wrist, he is dashingly handsome just to be able to match the dress he bought for you. His hair was styled the same as the TASAKI event yet his bangs were parted to expose his forehead that you always screamed about. 

He didn’t need to check the venue when Chan mentioned that you had already finished the preparation. During those sleepless nights and revisions, Seungmin always knew that you were good at doing your job. He did get worried about you finding out but he did great on not taking any actions that would spill his secret away and he also admits that it’s quite crazy that he made you prepare his proposal just to take time and not make it that obvious. 

In the end, he’s here now, waiting for you to turn around and say the words. It has been a wonderful five, almost six years of this relationship. Even though there were ups and downs, the challenges that put this affinity at risk, the people doubting it, and even questioning if there would be a possible marriage in the future, Seungmin was hurt and torn about those insignificant thoughts, especially if one day, you’ll decide to leave him but you are sure that it won’t happen anytime soon. He was overly thankful to you because, after all this time, you were the one who ensured to wait and trust him. 

He never lost hope. 

“Where are the scissors?” You asked, curious as to why the intern was taking so long, and turned around only to find your boyfriend with a big smile on his face. “Seungmin? What are youー” 

You were cut off when he suddenly went down with one knee and pulled out the small box from his coat’s pocket and opened it revealing the same ring you saw on your vacation two years ago. Tears suddenly streamed down on your cheeks because he remembered and this is the moment you’ve been waiting for after a while of thinking when he’s going to propose. 

“(Y/F/N), it has been an amazing five years with you and the word love is not enough to explain this feeling. I love you with all of my being and I’m thankful that you trusted me to take care of your heart. I know I have a lot of shortcomings in this relationship and saying sorry is not going to suffice but seeing you being true and giving your full trust in me made me think that I should do better to be the best boyfriend you could ever have.” He paused as his tears started to form in his eyes. You cover your mouth, speechless as you look at him, feeling as emotional as ever. He is good, so good at keeping this a secret, and quite smart for making you do the design of the venue, and yet, you didn’t think of anything right now. “I’ll give you happiness, my eternal love, my heart… I’ll protect you with all of my might if you just give me a chance. May I be your husband and spend the rest of your life with me?” 

You looked around and saw your friends and the rest of the staff giving you thumbs up and silent cheers, trying not to interrupt the moment. And without hesitation, you nodded. 

“Yes,” You said. “Yes! I would love to!” You exclaimed as Seungmin’s smile grew wider and took the ring from the box to slide it gently to your ring finger. It’s just the perfect size and a perfect choice for his beautiful fiance. 

The crowd cheered as Hyunjin and Chan popped the confetti, clapping and saying congratulations from here and there along with the rest of the staff and the popping of champagne. You couldn’t contain your happiness that you pulled him into your arms, giving him a passionate kiss to show everyone that it’s finally official. You’re getting married. He immediately returned the kiss and this time, it was so good that you couldn’t wait to experience it in front of the altar. 

“Thank you so much for saying yes.” He said pulling away not being able to mind the people around you. 

“And thank you for asking me, Min.” You said trying not to ruin your make-up with those precious tears. Seungmin kissed you again as his system got hugged by excitement. He too, couldn’t wait to seal this relationship in front of his friends and family. 

“Congratulations on your engagement, Seungmin and Y/N!” Hyunjin said approaching you with a bouquet of flowers as you pulled away from the kiss. 

“Thank you! And Hyunjin? Here, I thought you were the client.” You said as the guy shook his head in return, waving his hands intensely. 

“Not now maybe soon! Chan hyung here informed me about the preparations.” Hyunjin answered patting Chan’s back. “I still need to find the one.” He laughed which made Seungmin let out a smug smile. 

“Was this your plan?” You asked them as you took the bouquet. 

“We did plan to hire another organizer but Seungmin didn’t want a new one for the sake of this engagement. He wanted your personal touch to make it more familiar and comfortable.” Chan said with a sheepish smile and that’s when you looked at Seungmin who turned away as if he didn’t plan all of thisーall red out of embarrassment.

“Baby, you didn’t have to!” You said, playfully hitting his arm. “You have some explaining to do.” 

“We will leave you guys for privacy.” Chan smiled, nudging Hyunjin. 

“And don’t mind me dining at the buffet!” Hyunjin exclaimed and that’s when you and Seungmin were alone at the same spot he proposed. 

“So?” You asked him, raising a brow. 

“Fine, you got me!” Seungmin said, still wearing that happy smile of his. “Baby, I did have plans of proposing for a while but our schedules are always delaying my plan. When I was exclusively informed that I got invited to attend the TASAKI’s anniversary, I quickly took the bait and planned it immediately.” He started. 

“Is that why you were so busy these past days?” You asked again as he nodded, licking his lips while being caught red-handed.  

“I asked Chan hyung to pretend that you have a VIP client to push your other schedules and when you agreed to design the venue when, I, clearly knew that you’re not an organizer, still you did good about the place, all the flowers and the arrangements from the curtains to the chandeliers, tables, and the rest of everything, it made you distracted for a while.”He paused as he looked at you with those eyes. Those sparkling pretty eyes that you want to look at all day without getting tired of it. “I’m sorry that because of this immediate preparation made you sick along the way and was not expecting that I was the one who asked for it. I even invited Hyunjin. And those brand deals and signing of papers were just an excuse because I always visit the venue.” He said which made you tear up even more. 

“Why youー”

“And remember the ring we were looking at when we were in Japan? They had it on display at the event so I bought it and asked my manager to bring it home because if I did, you’ll suspect me. And I think I did good picking that dress for you.” He smiled, slowly leaning toward you as he kissed your forehead. “You look beautiful as ever.” 

Kim Seungmin. 

His name is what your heart screams for and his existence is the reason for its every beat. He is the single drop of sunlight from the heavens that grew a golden flower in your garden and the rain that quench its thirst from the drought. The bright moon on a dark night, the stars that illuminate the black sky, and the daylight you wake up to every morning. Not everyone in this world is given a gift that was molded by the gods themselves and delivered to you at an unexpected time. Love is not something you seek, it is given at a perfect time and Seungmin barging into your world as a client way back years ago is the time that you’d receive their gift. You still don’t know what you did to be blessed with such a perfect man but you are thankful for him. His love couldn’t match anything that he gives more of what you’ve been asking. 

“I love you so much.” You sobbed. “I don’t hate any of this even if I’m the one who designed it.” You laughed in between. “But I am so happy that you finally proposed. I actually thought it never crossed your mind but even if there’s no proposal, I am willing to stay either way and wait for you, Min. You don’t know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me for the past five, almost six years and I am so grateful to you for choosing me.” Seungmin looked at you with full admiration in his eyes. He wanted to kiss your tears away and make you the happiest person in the world. No, he didn’t regret choosing you. He may have been blessed by the heavens and Hyunjin for introducing you to him, and ever since he couldn’t get you out of his mind. 

“After all this time?” Seungmin tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “I love you, Y/N.” 

“Always.” As you gaze up at him, the warmth feels your body as you’ve always been sure you were going to spend the rest of your life with him. 

He watches you squeal and smile while showing off your engagement ring to everyone around after pulling away. Chan and Hyunjin were so smiley that they were glad that Seungmin finally came up with this arrangement. His eyes sparkled in awe like a puppy being finally accepted into a new family.

“See this?! This is what Seungmin gave me! He remembered the ring I wanted years ago.” You said in excitement. 

“I wish Seungmin would give me some too,” Hyunjin said playfully making Chan smack his arm. You look over your shoulder as your eyes meet initiating the sweetest smile you could ever show him out of joy. Seungmin was surrounded by his friends yet his eyes never left you. 

“I'm such a lucky guy.” He says under his breath. 

“Yeah, I know,” Felix answered while sipping a glass of champagne (he was late) but Seungmin didn’t mind as he continued to admire you from a distanceーready to face a new chapter with you.

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　───　 @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow , @hanjsquokka , @suebin , @starlostastronaut , @stayconnecteed , @myjisung , @hwan-g , @arrasuh 　( open. )

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[xhatake]

kakashi's 'reading' copies of icha icha have a bunch of parts that he's highlighted [ in green ]. he has separate versions of the books he does not read that he got signed before jiraiya died. he loses a lot of them when his house is flattened, but he still digs a couple of books out of the rubble. they're torn up & the pages are barely hanging onto their spines but they are very special to him. [ also this is the fic. it's nsfw as a heads up ]

[forlix]

𝐚𝐜𝐞・h.h.

— volleyball superstar and your personal hell hwang hyunjin proposes a trade-off you can't refuse: his matchmaking services for a passing anthropology grade. the plan is foolproof in theory; in practice, it is something else entirely.

words・15.2k

pairing・volleyball player!hyunjin x tutor!reader (gn)

genres・college!au, sports!au, fake enemies to friends to lovers, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, slice of life, mutual pining, slow burn. two polar opposites sharing one soul. a seungjin fic if u squint. loosely inspired by the manga/anime haikyuu!!

warnings・mentions of anxiety, fear of failure, heartbreak, loneliness, and self-image. course language and callous banter (as always) ft. suggestive flirting and one kms joke. some of the referenced players and coaches are real; this fic is not.

playlist・collision by stray kids・value by ado・waiting for us by stray kids・eternity by bang chan・dreaming by smallpools・fly high!! by burnout syndromes

a/n・writing this felt like returning to my roots tbh. i love volleyball and i love sports aus and i love, love hwang hyunjin. thank u to my sahar for bringing this fic to life with me, as always; i can no longer write for him without also writing for you. i hope u guys enjoy reading this as much as i adored writing it. happy late birthday, our jinnie, our hyunjin, our forever ace; you are so unbelievably loved ♡

“Not a word out of you,” you say, tossing your backpack onto the floor of the lecture hall with a heavy-handed flick. “I’m serious.”

Hyunjin glances up at you with a frown. “When did people stop saying good morning?”

Your lack of an immediate comeback tells him the situation is dire. He observes you for a moment, his mouth falling open, hanging still, then curving into a slow, serpentine smile.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Please, angel.”

“No! Leave me alone.”

Hyunjin slumps back into his seat, thinking hard. The solution occurs to him with a poke of his tongue into his cheek. “Coffee on me for a week.”

At this, your hands stop rummaging in your bag. You cock your head, your interest piqued. Got you. 

When you finally humor him and turn around, you’re flinching like you’re in pain, eyes closed and breath held and all. He giggles and leans in for a closer look. Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He could’ve counted your eyelashes if he wasn’t so flummoxed by the state of your forehead.

“What the hell did you do?”

“Tried to cut my own bangs,” you sigh. “It didn’t go very well and now I look like Rock Lee.”

Hyunjin lets out a forceful laugh. “You’ve seen Naruto?”

You open your eyes. Only then does Hyunjin remember how little distance he left between your faces, when he’s staring straight into them and all the strange, starry speckles they hold.

The air between you curdles like sour milk.

Things are awkward between you often, he’s realized recently. What’s more, he didn’t think he was capable of being awkward with anyone anymore until he met you. It was your ill-fated seat that he chose to sit next to on the first day of ANTH 111, your ill-fated lap onto which he chose to spill his Americano, and the rest was history (or, in this case, anthropology). His tongue ends up in sailor’s knots with every smart-aleck comment and pitiful laugh you’ve given him since. Maybe there’s more to it, maybe there isn’t—Hyunjin doesn’t think about it much. He doesn’t like thinking in general.

You pull away from each other in unison. You clear your throat, glancing elsewhere. 

“Of course I’ve seen Naruto,” you quip, and everything is normal again. “Why do you seem surprised?”

“Because you’re so scholarly.”

“I am not scholarly.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You go to a park to play chess with old people on weekends.”

“I need to get my steps in somehow.”

“You didn’t know what Urban Dictionary was until I told you to look up—”

“God, I learned so much about you that day."

“Your favorite social media platform is Quizlet,” he bursts, exasperated. “Quizlet.”

“It is not.” An introspective pause. “Or is it?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Hyunjin throws his feet up on the chair below him, jabs in your direction with a bandaged finger. “There is no way you enjoy watching 2D men beat each other up in your free time. I don’t buy it.”

“Honestly, I thought you’d have more to say about my current appearance than my hobbies.”

He does, though. Matter of fact, he’s been curating a list since this conversation started: Vector from Despicable Me, Dora the Explorer’s hot older sibling, Spock. You face-planted into a lawnmower. You mistook a paper shredder for a hat. It goes on.

But then his head turns. Your eyes meet again. He’s reminded that it’s hard to sustain an inner monologue and look at you at the same time, Vector resemblance and all.

He reaches up, nudges a lock of your hair over a centimeter or so, and gives the patch of forehead a gentle flick.

“Watermelon,” he mumbles with a sickening smile.

You divert your attention to your lecture notes with a disappointed click of your tongue. “You’re getting soft.”

He spends the entire lecture daydreaming about tropical coastlines.

“I only get coffee from that one place on the east side of campus, by the way,” you say as you’re strolling out the building together, “and I get it a very specific way. Can you handle it?”

“Your faith gets me out of bed in the morning,” Hyunjin deadpans. “I’ll handle it, love. Text me your order.”

All of a sudden, you position your hands close to your stomach, the lapels of your jacket casting them in shadow. Your fingers begin to move in a sequence that he’d recognize anywhere.

“Body flicker jutsu,” you whisper, and then you’re scurrying off without another word—but you do glance back at him to gauge his response. Your smile is purely effulgent, your laugh but a faint sigh against the main quad’s busy thrum.

Hyunjin gapes at your retreating figure for so long that phosphenes start prancing around his field of view. Then he heads to the gym. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram.

“Hwang, I need you in my office.”

Hyunjin stops lacing up his shoes to see Coach Bang standing on the court’s sideline with a grim air about him. He glances at his captain, confused.

“Don’t look at me,” Minho says mid-stretch. “Godspeed.”

“Thanks, cap.” Useless.

Head volleyball coach Christopher Bang’s workspace reminds Hyunjin of a morgue. It’s all fluorescent lights and spotless white walls, the only decorative fixture a picture of his siblings, parents, and dog in front of the Sydney Opera House, framed and facing him atop his desk. Hyunjin once snuck the thing into the bathroom, an innocent plot to satiate his curiosity, and promptly discovered the man’s propensity for violence. He’s packing beneath those dry-cleaned polos, by the way.

Hyunjin closes the door and takes a seat. Bang taps a knuckle against the tempered glass of his monitor. “You can read, right?”

“Yes, coach,” he sighs. Everyone’s expectations for him are subterranean.

From: Park Jinyoung «asiansoul_jyp@snu.edu» To: Bang “Christopher” Chan «cb97@snu.edu» Subject: Not good See email from Hwang’s antopology professor below . He submitted the complete script of the Trolls movie instead of his mid term paper and now he’s failing the class . Not good . Sort out ASAP JP Sent from my iPad

Bang snatches up his mouse and scrolls, his ears turning scarlet. “Wrong email.”

“Yep.”

From: Kim Kyeyoung «kyeyoungkim@snu.edu» To: Park Jinyoung «asiansoul_jyp@snu.edu» Subject: Regarding Hwang Hyunjin To Director of Athletics Park, I am writing to inform you that, as of yesterday, Mr. Hwang Hyunjin has a D- (64.9%) in ANTH 111: Cultural Anthropology, due to his submission of the complete script of a kids’ movie instead of his midterm paper. It is disappointing to see Mr. Hwang trivialize and ridicule my class to such a degree. Please see to it that he reorganizes his priorities lest his Student-Athlete Participation Agreement do so for him. Regards, Kim Kyeyoung Professor of Anthropology

“That’s bullshit!”

“We’re in agreement there.” Bang folds his arms over his chest, throws his foot over his knee. “Do you know what your Student-Athlete Participation Agreement says?”

“Does anyone?” Hyunjin scoffs. Bang whips out a form and brings it to eye level, the thing covered from top to bottom in microscopic Times New Roman. “No way you just had that.”

“I had it delivered ten minutes ago,” Bang confesses, then clears his throat and begins to recite. “All student-athletes must complete the academic term with a C or higher in all courses, should they wish to continue their participation in athletics thereafter.”

Hyunjin stiffens. “What the fuck? I’ve never heard—”

“If any Department of Athletics personnel,” Bang continues, raising his voice, “have reason to believe that a student-athlete will not be able to satisfy this requirement, they are encouraged to utilize resources such as academic advising or peer tutoring in guiding said student-athlete back onto the correct path.”

He shoves the piece of paper across his desk. “Read that name aloud for me.”

Hyunjin stares at the signature at the bottom of the page, scrawled so carelessly that most of it deviates away from its designated line. There is a rare hollowness in his chest that he recognizes as anxiety. With it comes a glimpse of a life without volleyball, the question of what little of him would remain.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” he says under his breath.

The office goes silent. Bang tucks the form back into his drawer. It closes with a gentle click.

Then comes the yelling.

“The Trolls movie? Trolls?! Are you fucking with me, Hwang?”

“It was a cultural reset! The pinnacle of modern media! How’s that for anthropology?”

“BAD!” Bang explodes, gesturing to the email emphatically. “VERY, VERY BAD!”

Hyunjin slumps over, dejected.

“You’ve never had trouble with school before.” He leans over his desk imposingly. “What the hell happened this semester? What changed?”

Nothing is the first answer that comes to mind, but Hyunjin’s pulse spikes like a lie detector. Upon the inside of his eyes replays a scene of a certain someone with watermelon bangs doing teleportation jutsu at him from a few yards away, wearing a smile made of some kind of space dust that astronomists haven’t discovered yet.

He grits his teeth, annoyed. This is what happens when he thinks.

“Beats me,” he fibs. “Typical junior year stress, maybe.”

“Does any of it have to do with Piazza?” 

Hyunjin shudders.

It just might, actually.

Modesty has no place in the career he’s had: high school national champion turned ace hitter in both the South Korean U21 roster and regular rotation for Seoul National University, the best collegiate volleyball team in the country. His name has lived at the top of ranking lists and the center of gold medals since he turned old enough to qualify for them; the press believes him the instigant of South Korea’s imminent volleyball revolution. It’s a mouthful, he knows.

It was never a question that he would go professional; the question was who he should talk to and where he would go.

At the start of the school year, Bang, acting in place of the agent he was advised to find and never bothered to, gave him a list of people to reach out to. On the very top was none other than Roberto Piazza, the chairman and head coach of Allianz Milano, one of the most eminent club teams in the world—and current home to Hyunjin’s personal idol, outside hitter Ishikawa Yuki.

Hyunjin thought his poor coach had finally succumbed to his old age. The thought of stepping onto the same court as Ishikawa felt sacrilegious, let alone donning the red, white, and navy blue of Allianz Milano with him. But Bang slapped him on the back of the neck and reminded him that going professional was equal parts preparation and opportunity; he was never going to know the answers to questions he didn’t ask. Hyunjin was coerced to fire off an introductory email despite his reservations.

Piazza replied within the week.

For the last five months, Hyunjin has been fighting with tooth and nail to manage his expectations. He scrolls past the team’s social media posts like they burn his eyes. He replies to Piazza’s emails right before working out with Changbin under the assumption that whatever the shredded libero does to him will eviscerate his brain. If his world is made of dreams, this is the one at its very core, imbued with destructive potential the second it became attainable.

But that’s the last five months. The last five weeks have been you kicking him in the shin because he’s laughing (or trying to make you laugh) and the professor is staring; you listening to him rant and rave about volleyball when he knows you couldn’t care less about the sport; you relaying the contents of your class readings like hot gossip, your eyes wild and hands flying around because you can’t contain your excitement. You, you, you.

He cards a hand through his air, regaining focus. “You know how I feel about Piazza.”

“Expect the worst, hope for the best.” Bang’s chair skids backwards as he stands up. “I think it’s a good approach.”

Suddenly, he is directly in front of Hyunjin, low enough to meet his eyes. His hands rest upon his shoulders firmly.

“But hope is hungry, and it will consume you if you let it,” he says. “Do not let it, Hyunjin. I’m not asking.”

Even while being squeezed to a pulp and regarded with the cold intensity of a statue, Hyunjin can’t help but feel anchored, somehow, to the floor of this miserable office. Protected.

Bang lets go of him. “I’m not asking you to find a tutor by the end of the week, either.”

Hyunjin groans. “Yeah, yeah. I’m on it.”

A set of bandaged fingers appear in your periphery to place a paper cup onto your laptop. Accompanying the smell of fresh coffee is that of smoky rose, as decidedly douchey as ever.

“I thought you said your order was complicated.”

You look up from your phone to see Hyunjin plop into the adjacent seat. His long, caramel-colored hair is damp and unstyled in the aftermath of a morning shower, droplets of water pearling on the lapels of a navy blue windbreaker, layered over a white long sleeve. You recognize the outfit by now as game gear.

“Was it not?” You ask.

“It was an Americano, love. I walked up to the cashier and placed an order for an Americano.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you could handle that much.” He flips you off as you squint at the cup. “Someone wrote their number on the lid, by the way.”

“What? Really?”

“No.”

He shoves you hard enough for your upper body to drape over the opposite armrest; you’re still cackling by the time you’ve straightened up again.

“Why did you get this, anyway?” Hyunjin grumbles. “I thought you had a sweet tooth.”

“I do, but you don’t.”

Only then does the fool understand that you had no intention of charging him in coffee just for a haircut reveal. He takes back the coffee hesitantly.

“Thanks,” he says at last. “Nice of you.”

“I know, right? Hated it,” you respond, and he almost chokes on his first sip.

You almost choke on nothing when Kim Seungmin materializes in the aisle adjacent. He holds out a hand in Hyunjin’s direction. “Yo.”

Hyunjin dabs it up mid-sip. “I fully forgot you were in this class.”

“Well, I’m due for my weekly appearance.” Seungmin slips into the seat directly below you, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi,” you say, somehow managing to stumble over the single syllable the word has. You thank your lucky stars that you fixed your hair yesterday.

You like Kim Seungmin. Not just in the cutesy, crushy way, but in the “I would relinquish all of my rights for you” way where you spend every waking moment cursing out whatever stroke of misfortune placed Hyunjin in the seat next to you instead of him. He’s funny, gorgeous, and talented—a vocal performance major with a student-athlete contract—and you think your infatuation is more than justified. Hyunjin thinks it’s hilarious.

You side-eye your blonde adversary, prepared to see one of three things: a suppressed laugh, a dramatic eye-roll, or a mature kissy face that usually results in the first option. You’re met with something far more worrisome.

He’s thinking.

That can’t be good.

Suddenly, his phone screen lights up with a text that temporarily wipes the conspiratorial gleam from his eye. Hyunjin scans it over and groans. “Can this guy do his fucking job?”

“He wouldn’t have to if you didn’t quit,” Seungmin answers. “I’ll never forget you, Manager Hwang.”

“Shut up.” You peer at Hyunjin, silently requesting an explanation. “Our captain is forcing us to help him look for a new team manager. We need one for playoffs because of some stupid U-League rule—Seung, why do you look morose?”

“I’m mourning.” Seungmin does look morose indeed. “Hyunjin committed larceny last year and our coach punished him by making him our team manager for the rest of the season. It was so funny.”

Hyunjin slides down his seat. “It was the worst experience of my life.”

Neither man seems inclined to elaborate on the mention of larceny. You choose to digress. “Can I ask why?”

“He had to be responsible,” Seungmin whispers. “For other people.”

The top of Hyunjin’s head stops right next to your armrest. You reach over and pat his hair in faux sympathy. “Poor thing.”

“Hardass refused to do it again this year, so now we’re recruiting.” Seungmin props an elbow upon the back of his chair, looks at you contemplatively. “I don’t suppose you have four hours to spare every day.”

Hyunjin scoffs from below you. Loudly. “This one? Team manager?”

“I can see it.”

“I can see killing myself, maybe.”

The next time you reach for him is to hit his forehead. A crisp smack resounds around the barren lecture hall. Hyunjin cusses into his seat cushion.

“Seems like a great candidate to me,” Seungmin muses, and the warm smile he gives you mirrors onto your face before you can think better of it. God, it’s pretty. You wonder how it would feel pressed against your own.

Hyunjin is now completely out of sight and halfway onto the floor. “I miss when you didn’t come to class, Seungmin.”

Eighty minutes later, you’ve just emerged from the classroom when Seungmin calls out to you. You come to such a sudden halt that Hyunjin almost trips over you, but you barely notice him stumble, utterly enraptured by the hand Seungmin brings to the strands of hair by your ear, the fingers that dust your cheek as they pluck a small piece of lint from out of the tresses.

“Sorry.” He flicks it away with a sheepish smile. “I couldn’t unsee it.”

You manage to thank him just before your whole body ceases to function. Hyunjin sidesteps the two of you, yawning.

Seungmin excuses himself not too long after you reach the main quad. You also turn to leave, sparing Hyunjin a curt farewell in the process. He hooks his pointer finger around the handle at the top of your backpack and lugs you backwards with infuriating ease.

“I didn’t like that at all,” you say.

“I don’t care. I have something to tell you.”

“You have a kid, don’t you?”

“Wha—huh? Who do you think I am?”

“The one-night-stand’s poster child. The champion of the contraception industry.”

“Yeah, contraception industry. It’s right there in the name.”

You can’t argue with that. “What do you have to tell me?”

A shadow of hesitation flits across Hyunjin’s face. Your smile falters. Is it possible that you’re about to have a serious conversation with him for the first time? Maybe you should’ve saved the secret son bit for another time.

“I’m failing anthro.”

So much for a serious conversation. 

“Come again?”

He repeats the mystifying statement.

“You’re joking.” The look on his face says otherwise, though, and your eyebrows disappear into your hair. “You’re failing anthro?”

“I just said that, yes.”

“You’re failing anthropology?”

“Mhm.”

“Just so we’re clear—you’re failing Introduction to Cultural Anthropology?”

“Yes. I’m glad you’re having fun.”

This is the best day of your life. “I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“Yeah, well, our professor has no media literacy,” he mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Hyunjin clears his throat. “Anyways, I was thinking—”

“Wow! Congratulations. That’s a big—oomf—”

Hyunjin puts his entire hand over your face. Your mangled noises of protest go unacknowledged.

“I was thinking,” he continues, pushing your head around like a stick shift, “you and I can work out some kind of deal.”

You shove his wrist off you with a revolted groan. “I think I just ate some athletic tape.”

“Happens. You wanna hear the deal or not?”

“Does it involve ingesting more sports equipment?”

“Do you want it to?”

“Just tell me the deal, boy.”

“Alright.” He takes a deep breath. “If you help me pass this class, I’ll set you up with Seungmin.”

Your head performs a triple-axel on your neck. You are unable to respond for what feels like multiple hours. Finally: “I’m gonna need you to elaborate.”

“On which part?”

“All of them. Everything.”

Hyunjin sighs, then scans the courtyard. His gaze settles on the student union a little ways off. “Are you hungry?”

You pick up a sandwich and a smoothie in a state of nervous stupor. One would think it’s the prime minister you’re about to have lunch with and not an imbecilic left-side hitter eating from three different entrees at the same time.

He’s chosen a table a few yards away from a planter of flowering cherry blossom trees. You feel jealous eyes on the side of your face as you take a seat across from Hyunjin, but they don’t know that his telephone pole legs still bump against yours even with them drawn as close to your body as anatomically possible. Or that he’s drawing up a literal Ponzi scheme on your sandwich wrapper. You wager you’ve had better company.

“You like anthropology. I like listening to you talk about anthropology.” He traces over the wrapper’s left corner. “And I kinda want you to boss me around. That weird?”

“Yes, definitely,” you mumble around a mouthful of bread. “Go on.”

“Conclusion one: you should be my tutor.” He taps in place as if applying a finishing touch, then swaps to the opposite side. “You also like my teammate, but he’s neck-deep in volleyball and music this semester, which makes him hard to get a hold of—for most people.”

“Let me guess. Not for you.”

“Ten points to Ravenclaw.” His British accent is nightmarish. “Seung and I live in the same building. We get dinner when we go back from practice together. Conclusion two: you should come with us.”

“To dinner or to practice?”

“To both. Which brings us to my third and final conclusion—”

He slams a fist onto the center of the wrapper.

“—you should manage our team.”

“I knew it!” You slam the table as well, your smoothie wobbling upon impact. “You’re trying to swindle me! You can’t pay for my labor with more labor. What do you take me for?”

“It’s not labor, dumbass! Ask our last manager! He didn’t do shit!”

“Yeah? Who was your last manager?”

“Me!”

Oh, right. “But you hated it!”

“I hate everything that isn’t playing volleyball. Try again.”

You fold your arms over your chest. “You said you’d kill yourself if I managed you.”

Hyunjin starts balling up your sandwich wrapper. “It’s true. I thought about you and my coach getting along and promptly got a rash. But it makes so much sense: you do whatever you want during practice, tutor me afterwards, and then you and Seung can eyefuck over ramen or something. My coach hops off my dick, you hop on Seung’s—”

“STOP!” A girl drops her receipt not too far away, startled by your outburst. “Stop right there. I get it. Stop.”

“It’s a good plan.” He slings the paper ball towards the nearest trash can. It drops into the hole without so much as a brush against the rim. “You know it is.”

You’re loath to admit that you do. “When did you even come up with all this?”

He flicks a thumb in the direction of your anthropology class. No fucking wonder he’s failing.

“What is this, mock trial?”

The owner of this voice is the third man you’ve seen today donning that navy windbreaker, white long-sleeve combo. He has a face that reminds you of your neighbor’s cat from back home, sleek and sharp and only slightly sinister. There’s a dash of humor in his expression as he approaches your table like he’s enjoying the company of a court jester.

“Slamming tables like fuckin’ tariff lawyers,” the cat-man hums, lifting a hand in Hyunjin’s direction. “I could see it from all the way inside.”

“Captain!” Hyunjin crows, dabbing him up without missing a beat. They really do that like breathing. “Just the man I was hoping to see.”

“Really? I thought you’d be avoiding me like the rest of our homunculus team.”

“I would never.”

“You did. Yesterday. When you saw me and started running in the opposite direction.” He pauses for emphasis. “As fast as possible.”

“Well, that was yesterday. Today is a new day.” Hyunjin tosses you a proud glance. “And today, I bring you a new team manager.”

You stiffen. “I haven’t—”

“Is that so!” When the stranger smiles at you, you feel the same satisfaction you did every time the cat let you scratch her on the chin. “Music to my ears. What’s your name, cutie?”

You catch Hyunjin’s eye across the table; he nods enthusiastically as if saying go on, then. You briefly picture yourself strangling him with his own athletic tape. You then picture yourself hopping on Seungmin’s—

Rigidly, you throw a hand out to the cat-man, your face aflame.

“Y/N,” you grumble. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

He shakes on it heartily. “Likewise. I’m Minho. Welcome to the team.”

“Yes, welcome to the team,” Hyunjin parrots, looking positively jolly. You gnash your teeth together so hard your jaw throbs.

He’s lucky that his proposal holds so much water. He’s lucky that you don’t plan to strangle him until after you try that eyefucking thing.

You do kick him under the table, though.

The team has five weeks to prepare for the Korean University League, the biggest college-level volleyball tournament in the country. You have five days to learn how the hell athletic tape works. You can’t tell which is the bigger endeavor.

“I’m going to cause him irreversible skeletal damage,” you tell Changbin.

The team’s libero is twice as kind as he is talented, a full-time sweetheart working part-time at the university’s sports medicine clinic. Only your first week on the job and you’ve already decided he’s the only person on Earth you would permit to usher you through the gym at 6:45 A.M., a roll of athletic tape pressed to your back like a pistol.

“You will not,” Changbin answers. “One, because this won’t involve his skeleton, and two, because I wouldn’t ask you to help if it did.”

“You’ve misunderstood me,” you return as the two of you stop in front of an examination room. “I want to cause him irreversible skeletal damage.”

“Oh.” He opens the door with a frown. “Oh dear.”

Inside, Hyunjin is sitting cross-legged on top of a taping table, fitted in a loose gray tee and athletic shorts. He watches in pessimistic silence as you enter the room and beeline straight towards the shelf on the right. You slip a thick binder into your hands and bury your nose inside it without so much as a greeting.

“I am going to get maimed,” Hyunjin tells Changbin.

“Have some faith, both of you,” Changbin replies sternly. You find the pages you’re looking for and begin poring over them like you’re cramming for an exam. “You’ll be fine, Jinnie. Y/N studied.”

“Studied?” He repeats. “For this?”

“I’m pretty sure Quizlets were made.”

“Three, to be exact," you interject, sticking out your hand. “Now tape me.”

Hyunjin mouths the words tape me in baffled silence. The latter obliges your request with a smile. “See? What could go wrong?”

The answer to that, actually, is a lot. Especially after Changbin gets called away to help stretch out a teammate named Felix who allegedly “sprained his ass,” leaving Hyunjin to you and your binder.

You detect no smoky rose in the air around him today, just the subtle smells of cedar and cypress—laundry detergent or shampoo, maybe. Figures he doesn’t wear that insufferable cologne to practice.

“Go easy on me, yeah?”

While Hyunjin’s tone is teasing, yours is downright somber.

“I can’t promise anything.”

With that, you turn your palms face-up in a silent request for his hand.

A few strands of hair fall into your face as you lean in for a better look. It’s the first time you’ve seen his fingers untaped; they’re pretty, long and slender and surprisingly manicured, but also battered in their delicacy, the veins running over the back of his hand and forearm prominent, his bottom knuckles discolored from the healing bruises they bear. His hard work is palpable upon the smooth skin as evidently as if tattooed.

Hyunjin says your name in close proximity. You respond with an absent hum.

“You’re not nervous, are you?”

“No. Maybe a little.” You let his hand fall free and go to rummage for supplies. “Fine, yes. Very.”

“But you made Quizlets. You’re prepared for anything.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” You realize only after spotting the gentle smile on his face that he’s making fun of you. “I hate you.”

“Actually,” he hums, “I think you care about me, love. That’s why you’re nervous.”

“Nonsense—I care about disappointing Changbin. That’s it.”

“And me. And hopping on Seungmin’s dick. All these things don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”

You try to tackle him. Hyunjin catches your hands a few inches away from his face, fingers closing around your wrists with obnoxious agility.

“Have you lost your mind?” You whisper-shout, your face on fire. “Don’t bring that up here. I’ll maim you for real.”

The laugh that explodes out of him throws his entire body backwards, turns his eyes to crescent moons and his mouth into a little rectangle. You hate that you don’t hate when that happens.

“My bad, my bad. It slipped out. I won’t—”

One incremental shift of Hyunjin’s body later, you find that you’re precariously, alarmingly close to one another.

So much so that you notice the mole beneath his left eye for the first time, that you're nearly cross-eyed looking at it. That the tip of your nose actually brushes against his before you pull away with a quiet intake of breath. 

Things are awkward between you often, you’ve realized recently. You’re both professional yappers, always quick to digress, quick to find a new topic to bicker about before the awkwardness marinates. But hours later you’ll look back on the interaction and still remember how the air shifted: like a layer of dust had been blown away and something untouched and unknown was discovered just underneath.

Since you’ve met him, Hyunjin has spent more time on your nerves than on your mind. You’re not exactly losing sleep over such a circumstantial acquaintance; you know that his presence in your life will end the way it began, naturally and anticlimactically and inside the ANTH 111 lecture hall. Still, it doesn’t go unnoticed when your heart and stomach launch into an elaborate gymnastics routine in the wake of something he says or does, just as they’re doing now.

Hyunjin glances into your right eye a moment, then your left. The mole just below his left eye disappears when he smiles, the expression soft, saccharine, and sincere. How anyone casually looks the way he does is beyond your abilities of comprehension.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

Your face continues to burn, now perhaps for different reasons. “What for?”

He lets go of your wrist, sweeps the lock of hair that keeps getting in your eyes behind the cuff of your ear.

“Caring about me.”

Then he flicks your forehead. You recoil with a quiet ow.

“Now stop stalling and tape me, dumbass.”

“Okay,” you mutter, rubbing the injury tenderly. “No need to get violent.”

It turns out the arduous taping procedure described in the instruction manual is for serious hand injuries. Hyunjin splints his fingers together for support, not rehabilitation, so it takes all of five minutes for him to talk you through his process. You finish taping both of his hands with nineteen minutes to spare. So maybe the Quizlets were overkill.

As you’re walking him down to practice, you take his hand and lift it to eye level, scanning your craftsmanship dubiously. “It’s not too tight, is it?”

“It’s perfect.” He swivels the hand around and grabs onto your entire face, the sensation by now eerily familiar. “Want another taste?”

You shove him down the stairs that remain. Unfortunately, there are only two. “You are truly grotesque.”

The gym has come to life since you arrived earlier this morning, now illuminated by shining ceiling lights in addition to the sun spilling through high, narrow windows. Most of the team has yet to step onto the court, still stretching or jogging along the sidelines: Minho and Coach Bang are talking strategy on the bench, the coach taking notes on a handheld whiteboard every now and then; Changbin is leaning over a recumbent Felix below the scoreboard, presumably trying to fix his ass.

The only one already with a ball in hand is Seungmin, setting to himself by the net. Once, twice, thrice straight up in the air, and then he glances in your direction and sends the fourth towards the left side of the court in a buoyant arc.

You only glean bits and pieces of the next few seconds. Hyunjin is at your side one moment, making a break for the net the next. His arms draw backwards in perfect synchrony. Feet hit the floor with laserlike intent. His entire body unravels like a fraying chrysalis as he rises to meet the ball, pounds it over the net and into the ground at an angle so clean that the sound of its landing resounds within your ribcage. It rebounds over the railing of the second floor and barely misses the doorway of the examination room you just emerged from.

Hyunjin drops lightly back onto his feet, following the ball’s tumultuous trajectory with proud eyes. A leftover breeze tosses a strand of hair over the bridge of your nose, and time starts moving again.

“Oi, this isn’t your backyard! Go pick that up!” Their coach booms, though his words lack their usual bitterness after what he just witnessed his ace hitter do.

Hyunjin swivels towards Seungmin first. “Crazy bitch. What the fuck was that?”

“Lower and faster. Further from the net too,” Seungmin returns. “How’d it feel?”

The grin on Hyunjin’s face reminds you of a wildfire, untamed and all-consuming and frightening in its fervor. “Like we just won everything.”

He tousles your hair as he jogs past you and back up the stairs to fetch the volleyball. Seungmin waves at you with one hand and palms another ball into his other. His face is warm and bare, his slim build flattered by his volleyball gear. You’ve witnessed few people so nice to look at and even fewer things as elegant as his setting form. But you are still thinking about Hyunjin—and you can’t move.

It is debilitating, watching somebody do the very thing they were destined for.

A little less than a week later, Hyunjin is approaching hour three of spewing hot garbage into a Word document when he decides to give up and call you. 

“Hello?” He immediately starts laughing. “Where the fuck are you?”

You poke the top of your head into the shot of your ceiling, gesturing to your headband. “My face is preoccupied at the moment.”

“Oh, you have to show me. Please.”

You flip your phone up for no more than half a second. A camera shutter goes off, followed by a shriek so loud that it peaks your mic.

“Motherfucker!”

He basically sprints to his camera roll. His prize: you with your face slathered in cleanser, hair pinned back by a Miffy headband, looking like the abominable snowman if he liked cute merchandise.

“Thank you,” he says earnestly. “I’ll treasure this forever.”

“You’ll be punished, Hwang.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

You brandish your middle finger at him in response. He props his phone up against his computer screen with a chuckle. 

“Aaanyways, I have a thesis statement to run by you.”

The first thing you did as Hyunjin’s tutor was help draft an email to Professor Kim, begging her to let him resubmit the two essays he royally botched. She replied with a lengthy quotation from her syllabus, specifically the section that talked about (and prohibited) resubmissions, but ended up making an exception for Hyunjin on account of the “truly piteous timbre” of his email. You fell out of your chair laughing when he read you her response.

“You should’ve opened with that.”

“I tried, hello? Someone distracted me!”

“Read. It. Before I change my mind.”

You spend a few minutes at most on the thesis itself, advising him to avoid passive voice, answer the prompt, establish a refutable argument, the works. Then he asks you a question about the research topic itself, allusions to the afterlife in Ancient Egyptian artwork, and the tutoring session takes a turn into what feels like a podcast episode.

You talk about the God of Death, Anubis, and his connections to the underworld; the elaborate, lavish funerary rituals intended to ensure the souls of the dead traveled safely; the vibrant murals that flanked their final resting spots as pictorial requests for divine protection. And you talk about them all with such confidence, such eloquence, that it’s as if you’re leading him through a history museum rather than talking to your phone as you do your skincare. He could listen to you for hours. He does, actually.

Around 1 A.M., Hyunjin stops typing mid-sentence when you come into frame for the first time, collapsing into your bed with a sigh of relief. Your eyes are soft and sleepy as they blink at your screen, strands of damp hair clinging to your cheeks. He feels his heart physically shift inside his ribcage when your mouth stretches into a yawn. It is the same sensation as the time you shot him a smile over your shoulder and he couldn’t move for ten minutes.

With that, his attention span has run its course.

“Baby,” he interrupts gently. “Let’s stop here, okay? You seem tired.”

You open your mouth as if to protest, only to yawn again.

“I suppose I am. Will you keep working tonight?”

“I think so. I hit my stride.”

“Text me if you have questions, then. I’ll respond when I wake up.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Your lips curve into the smallest of smiles. It copies onto Hyunjin’s face incurably quickly. 

“I had my doubts about this tutoring thing, you know.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, you told me this class was the closest thing to daily naptime you’d experienced since preschool.”

“It really is.”

“You also told me you would rather slam your tongue in a car door than read more than three sentences in one sitting.”

“I really would.”

“And you once referred to academia as ‘Virgin Village.’”

“Didn’t you come up with that?”

“No, hello? I live in that village.”

He grins. “I know. I just wanted to hear you admit it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Ah, don’t threaten me with a good—”

“What I’m trying to say is that I didn’t think you would take this seriously, but I’m happy to be proven wrong.”

Hyunjin leans back. “Well, turns out I might give a fuck about anthropology after all.”

“Really?”

“No.”

You pretend to punch him through the screen. It’s so cute that he forgets to think before he opens his mouth next.

“But I do give a fuck about you.”

There’s nothing crazy about the statement. You’re friends, sort of. You manage his team. It would be strange if he didn’t. But the seconds that follow are terrible, a silent prophecy of something disastrous, like a cloud of rubble before an avalanche, the standstill during a star’s final breath. And Hyunjin’s heartbeat is hounding against his ears like a performance of traditional taiko.

He says good night in a haste. The call ends. He stares at the wall of his bedroom in a muddled haze for who knows how long.

Then he opens his texts.

Hyunjin: We have team bonding tomorrow btw Hyunjin: Don’t forget Y/N: i forgot. Y/N: pick me up at 6:45? Hyunjin: 🫡

He picks you up at 7:53.

You approach his car with your fists balled and your eyebrows knitted together like a mean old curmudgeon and he’s walking too close to your lawn.

“His fault,” Hyunjin says before you start yelling.

Minho simpers at you through his open window. “Hey, you! So glad you could join us!”

You fix the man with a judgmental glare as you slide into the backseat. “Aren’t you the captain? Why are you this late?”

“Whoa, okay. I would’ve scheduled this for earlier if I knew right now was honesty hour.”

“You did schedule it for earlier,” you say. “You scheduled it for way earlier.”

“Yeah, well, you’re fired.”

“You can’t fire me, Minho.”

“I can too. Tell ‘em, Hwang.”

“I want nothing to do with this.”

When you step through the doors of the arcade, you’re met with a surge of sensory input that you haven’t experienced in years. The air hangs thick with the smells of greasy concessions; everywhere you look are flashing screens and neon signs, stuffed animals and fading posters; clamoring against your ears are the sounds of games being won or lost, of balls being pocketed or launched, and of a horde of fully grown men spectating a match of Dance Dance Revolution so passionately (and loudly) that they’ve scared everyone away from that side of the room. You recognize the current competitors as Changbin and Jeongin.

“I’ll go pay,” Hyunjin says. “How much time do we want?”

“Infinity,” Minho answers. Hyunjin doesn’t move. “Two hours.”

He flashes him a thumbs-up. “And you?”

“I’m okay, I think.”

“No you’re not,” the two men answer in perfect unison.

You glance between them warily. “I don’t mind watching, seriously. I don’t even know how most of these games work—”

“There’s Tetris,” Hyunjin cuts in.

You purchase an hour.

One would imagine the point of the evening is to break the SNU men’s volleyball team, not to bond them. You’ve never seen so many strained blood vessels in your life. Nor have you heard of half the insults they spew at each other as the night goes on. Felix has to pay a fee for lodging an air hockey puck in the side of the MarioKart machine. Changbin loses at skee-ball and has to down an XL slushie like it’s a shot. It’s a scary amount of boyishness expressed in scary ways.

But they’re happy. You’ve picked up on it when they’re on the court, noticed the raw elation they emanate just from playing together. Yet, their closeness has never been more evident to you than tonight. The men are either laughing or making someone else laugh, arms draped over each other at all times, equally happy to celebrate victories as they’re eager to punish losses. It dawns on you at some point that you’re glad to be here with them, grateful to be a part of something so special—especially because there’s Tetris.

“Have you ever considered going pro?” Hyunjin asks over your shoulder.

You waited until most of the team was distracted to slink off to your beloved machine. Hyunjin tagged along, undoubtedly with the intention of making fun of you, only to be rendered speechless by your mastery. He’s been watching in a state of stupor, forearms propped against the back of your chair.

You don’t respond for a while, too focused on a precarious patch to even blink, let alone partake in conversation.

“I already did,” you finally answer.

“Sorry, what? You played professional Tetris?”

“In middle school. Then I got bored and switched to backgammon.” You pause. “Then I got bored again and switched to chess.”

“How do you look like this with these hobbies?”

Your run ends a few minutes later with a somber sound effect. You turn around in your seat with an anguished groan. “I think I’m washed.”

He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “You just set a new record by three hundred thousand points.”

“It’s a small pond,” you say, and an idea occurs to you. “Do you wanna try?”

“I get the feeling I don’t have a choice.”

“Then you’re smarter than you look.”

“Well, you look—”

His eyes move between your shoes and your face, and then his voice is an inaudible mutter as he sinks into your seat. You think you hear something along the lines of unfair.

“What was that?”

“Ugly. I said you look ugly.” He cracks his knuckles. “Now let’s break some fuckin' blocks.” 

When Hyunjin learns that the pieces can be rotated (so six or seven attempts later), a man walks into the arcade. 

He has hair the color of dark chocolate, the face of a fairy prince—and he’s with someone. The two of them appear arm in arm, laughing at something he said. He looks at this person the way astronomers do to the sky.

Something shatters inside you like old porcelain.

Your hands loosen around the back of Hyunjin’s chair. You can’t watch. You can’t think. You can only feel a void of disappointment rip open, stretch over you like an elongating shadow.

“Seung!” That’s Jisung, you think. “You made it!”

“Yo, sorry we’re late.” That’s Seungmin. That is undoubtedly Seungmin. “Dinner took longer than I thought.”

“Min, are you sure I’m allowed to be here?” You don’t know who this voice belongs to and you’re not sure you want to. “I feel like I’m intruding—”

“Hwang,” you say suddenly. “I have to go.”

He turns around, confused. An unattended block falls into a terrible spot on the screen behind him. ”Already?”

“I forgot I had an important call to make.” You turn away, training your eyes on the patterned carpet. “Sorry. I’ll see you around.”

You have touched Hyunjin’s hands many times. He’s asked you to tape his fingers every day since the first; he likes the way you cut off his circulation, says it helps him hit harder. But you never hold his hand so much as you examine it, the act stiff and unfeeling, cordoned within the professional pretense of athletic treatment. 

Now, Hyunjin catches your hand like a gardener repotting their favorite flower: delicately, careful of leaving its roots intact and petals untouched, but firmly, securely, so the flower continues to stand tall even when it’s been extracted from the soil, not even a speck of dirt slipping through the cracks between their fingers. That is the image you conjure when he slips his between yours, his metal rings cold where his fingertips are warm.

He says your name. There is a pinch of pain in the word, and you know that he knows.

“Do you want to be alone?”

You have never been asked such a thing—you have never asked to be asked such a thing—but, for some reason, the question brings tears to your eyes. 

“Yes, please,” you whisper, and you pull your hand away.

When you stalk past him, you hear Jisung notice you, call out to you, a note of worry in his question. You also count three pairs of eyes on your back: one concerned, the next confused, and the last you are wholly incapable of meeting. 

Unknown to you is the fourth pair fixed upon the top of the Tetris machine, where you’ve left your phone.

You emerge into the parking lot. The frigid air stills your mind for a fraction of a second, the last moment of mental quietude you will allow yourself that night.

Hyunjin’s right; the team manager doesn’t have to do much.

Coach Bang allows you to come to whichever practices and games you feel like, during which you might at most lug around a ballbag or fill someone’s waterbottle before holing up somewhere to do your own thing. But you like the people you work for too much to do so little for them, so you attend everything  your schedule allows. 

Last week, you could be found helping Minho put up the volleyball nets before practice, your laughter echoing throughout the spacious gym as he complained to you about his biochemistry professor’s distinct “cabbage scent.” Or running to grab materials for Changbin as he treated his teammates’ injuries like you were assisting an orthodontist giving someone a root canal. The dinner invitations you extended to Seungmin were always turned down, but his teammates were more than happy to assist you and Hyunjin in your quest to establish the best kimbap joint in the area once and for all. You even had a heart-to-heart with Coach Bang during one of the team’s water breaks, in which you managed to get half a smile out of the guy; Hyunjin was convinced that was his way of asking you to elope. You spent more time in the gymnasium those ten days than you had your entire college career.

Then came the arcade.

Five days have come and gone. You haven’t attended practice since, but you still see Hyunjin every morning at anthropology. The two of you sit in uncharacteristic silence for most of the lectures. You’ve taken the best notes of your life. He doesn’t mention the previous weekend; he doesn’t mention much of anything. 

In person, that is.

That Friday afternoon, you’re reading on the terrace of the library when you receive a text. It’s from Hyunjin, a two-minute voice note. You hesitate for a moment, stick a pencil into the gutter of your textbook to save your place, and slip your earbuds in. You listen to it.

Then you listen to it again.

And again as you wrap up your study session and go home. Again as you cook yourself dinner and load the dishwasher. Again as you shrug on a jacket and pocket your keys, setting off on the familiar trek to the gym.

As for what you plan to do there on a Friday night, long after the team has finished practice, you haven’t the slightest clue. You continue to move regardless, fueled by the feeling that there is where you need to be.

Coach Bang is leaving the building just as you’re approaching it. He halts in his footsteps and raises his eyebrows when he notices you. The man has always been difficult to read, but his face is exceptionally opaque now. Maybe it’s the shadowy landscape; more likely it’s the uneasiness that began to mount within you once you noticed the lights in the gym were still on.

“It’s been a while,” he greets.

“Coach,” you return, lowering your head. “I want to apologize for—”

“Save it,” he says, not unkindly. “There’s nothing to apologize for, alright? The team is lucky to have you.”

You manage a grateful smile. “I’ll be back starting next week.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He starts to walk away, stops himself, and glances into the illuminated building. “I would give him some space, by the way.”

Your uneasiness morphs into anxiety as you watch his broad back retreat into the shadows. You remain outside the gym for a few minutes more, accompanied by the distant melodies of cricket chorales and the muffled squeaking of shoes against laminated hardwood, the harsh sounds of flesh meeting leather.

Briskly, you walk home, rummage around, and return to the gym ten minutes later with your textbook tucked beneath your arm. This time, you unlock and enter the building without a moment of hesitation. 

Hyunjin is positioned multiple yards behind the service line, rotating a volleyball in his hands. A high toss, two resounding steps, and a collision like the crack of a whip. The previous ball has barely landed in the furthest corner of the court when he’s picking up the next, retreating to the same spot to do it all again. His tank top is the color of charcoal over his sweaty skin, his hair auburn where it’s plastered to his neck. He’s alone.

You only catch sight of Hyunjin’s face when you descend the stairs. His expression is crystalline, hardened with concentration and fortified by courage, but fragile all at once, rendered delicate by fatigue and fear, spilling from his every seam and splintering off his person like a broken vase. You recognize it as clearly as if you were looking at a picture of yourself from the worst years of your life.

“I was told to give you space,” you call out, and Hyunjin drops the volleyball he’s holding.

His lips fall apart. Nothing comes out of them. The only sounds to follow are your footsteps as you make your way towards the bleachers, a vertical wall of plastic now that they’ve been retracted for the night. You fold your legs into a criss-cross as you take a seat at their base.

“Is this enough space?”

More silence. You gesture to the volleyball nervously.

“Don’t make me go further, please. I’m not ready to die.”

Finally, this earns you a smile. It’s not much, but it loosens the nervous coils in your heart, permits your lungs to contract once more, and it remains on his face as he swipes the ball back into his hands. You open your textbook.

The rest of the night elapses in turning pages and soaring volleyballs. You don’t care for minutes or hours; you give him all the time in the world, as he did you.

The only time you glance at the clock on the wall is around midnight, when Hyunjin hobbles to the middle of the court and collapses. You’re worried at first. Then he rolls onto his back and releases a guttural groan into his hands, and your held breath comes out a laugh. You set down your book and stand up.

There’s a lake of perspiration forming around him. You pay it no mind and flop onto the floor, your eyes instantly narrowing beneath the fluorescent lights. 

“How do you see under these things?”

“I don’t,” he returns. “I complained about it to Coach once.”

“And?”

“He made them brighter.” Sounds about right.

Hyunjin spends the next few minutes catching his breath, his chest rising and falling in your peripheral vision. You sift through your mind for phrases of consolation or gestures of support and come up empty. You wish you had Hyunjin’s way with words.

But you think about the way his smile reached his eyes as he thanked you for caring about him, the tenderness with which he caught your hand at the arcade, the I give a fuck about you he blurted before ending the study call. You think about the voice note. It’s not that Hyunjin has a way with words; it’s that he’s brave enough to break the silences that you can’t, like he perceives your anxiety for the aftermath, shouldering the responsibility so you won’t have to.

This cannot be his burden alone.

You inhale. “What’s on your mind?”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer right away. You give up on squinting and close your eyes. The lights are still bright enough to dance around the murky darkness.

“I don’t think I know how to put it into words.”

You nearly laugh; you know how that feels. “Don’t think, just talk. I’m here.”

The same advice you gave yourself seems to work on him as well.

“Do you remember Ishikawa Yuki?”

His role model.

“He’s currently playing for a club team in Italy called Allianz Milano.” He blows out a deep breath. “I’ve been talking to their coach, Roberto Piazza, for the last six months.”

The gears in your head creak in their effort to process the implications of these words. “Holy shit, Hwang.”

“He emailed again, this morning. Said he was coming to the tournament later this month, he’s excited to see me play in person, whatever. And it hit me, finally, that this is all real. Like, this is actually happening to me. I spent all of today freaking out and asked Coach to let me stay back after practice. Usually, it wears out my brain if I tire my body, but it only half-worked today. I couldn’t wrap my head around anything. I still can’t.

“I am who I am because of that man, and now…I have a shot at playing with him. I keep asking myself why I’m not—not happier. I should be bouncing off the fucking walls, no? If I told my past self that this would be happening to him one day, he—he would—”

You open your eyes, confused by the sudden silence.

Hyunjin is sitting up next to you, staring intensely into the bleachers. You first notice the tip of his tongue prodding into his cheek, then his shuddering breath. He lifts a hand to his face, pressing against his eyes.

You stop thinking after that.

You sit up with him. When you settle your fingers around his wrist, he allows you to pull his hand back to his side. But he turns away as if trying to hide from you; he squeezes his eyes shut as if that would obstruct your view of his pain.

You reach to cradle his face, bringing him back to you. The cuff of your sleeves wipe at the saltwater on his cheeks, push the hair off his forehead with gentle sweeps. The two of you are close, close enough that your lips would meet the space between his eyes if you so much as lost your balance. His gaze traverses to your face, but you resolve not to meet it. You know you will traipse into uncharted territory the moment you do.

“Don’t fight it.” You trace over the hill of his cheek. “Healing becomes easier if you let yourself hurt. Trust me, Hyunjin.”

His first name should feel foreign on your tongue, yet you suspect the syllables have accompanied you all your life.

“You don’t have to continue if you can’t.”

“S’okay.” Hyunjin lifts your hand away from his face, presses a kiss to the base of your palm. “I want to.”

You feel yourself stumble ungracefully into the uncharted territory from before; does he do the same?

“I used to play volleyball on this expanse of cracked blacktop, behind my primary school. It was pretty brutal on my feet—I blew through so many different pairs of sneakers my mom almost made me quit.” He smiles at the memory. “But every time I came close to quitting, I’d go home and rewatch the same USA vs. Poland match from the 2008 Summer Olympics I asked my dad to record, and I’d promise myself it would be me on some other kid’s screen someday.

“That kid would tell everyone who’d listen about how cool I am. That I’m a secret superhero. That I’m living proof humans can fly if they really, really try—just like I talked about the volleyball players I grew up watching on my TV.

“The other day, Coach told me that hope would consume me. I thought it was just some senile drivel at the time, but..I think I get what he means now. I would do anything and everything to make that kid proud—even if it meant losing myself.” He lowers his head, auburn strands falling into his eyes. “That’s what’s on my mind.”

Amidst the ensuing pause, a storm approaches. It does not come in the form of rain or snow, sleet or hail, no; it is a gathering of words unsaid and emotions unacknowledged, all emerging from the deepest chambers of your heart in synchrony. The same entities you used to scapegoat for all the times things were awkward between you and Hyunjin when you were the culprit all along. You and your blind cowardice.

The storm tears open the seam of your lips. You do not resist; it’s long overdue.

“Every time Changbin sees you, he turns into a smitten schoolgirl,” you say. “He is physically unable to contain how endearing he finds you. He told me so himself.”

Hyunjin looks at you with widened eyes. You think you can see your own reflection in them, and you are the spitting image of a lighter dropped into gasoline, unstoppable in your vehemence.

“Jeongin comes to you for advice before anyone else,” you continue, “even for things related to school—which I still find hard to believe, I’m not gonna lie. But you have his best interests in mind, and it shows in everything you do for him. Of course your opinion matters more than anything in the world.

“I know you think he can’t stand you, but you are the reason Coach Bang loves this job, why he loves this sport. It’s written all over his face every time he calls you something mean, every time he makes you run another lap, every time he looks at you. You’re like a son to him. Everyone sees it but you.”

“Then there’s me.” You pause to catch your breath. “When I think about what my life used to be, I remember a lot of things. I remember loneliness. Insecurity. I remember my books and my backgammon boards and the way I taught myself to disappear inside them so the world would never find me. I remember avoiding mirrors like a vampire because I didn’t like seeing my own reflection. I remember feeling like I had to put on someone else’s personality every time I left the house because nobody would want to know me for me. All I ever wanted was a place where I could be myself, love myself, without consequence. I have yet to find that place.

“But I found a person. Someone who wouldn’t know time and place if they kicked his dick into his body. Someone who thinks instant ramen is high in nutritional value because it comes with dried vegetables. Someone who sweats the same amount of rain the Sahara Desert receives yearly—your body is not normal, by the way.”

Hyunjin giggles; it is soft and short, a small, tearful huff into the quiet air that makes you feel like you’re flying.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you say. “Your sense of humor sucks and your taste in coffee is so boring and you are the one with no media literacy, not Professor Kim. But I love spending time with you. I love who I am when I’m around you. And none of that has to do with volleyball.”

The next time you blink, you discover that he’s not the only one with tears in his eyes. How long has that been going on?

“There’s so much about you to be proud of, Hyunjin.” You give him a watery smile. “That kid will be spoiled for choice.”

When Hyunjin pulls you into his arms, you fall into each other like going to bed after a long day. Your face burrows into the crook of his neck in your embarrassment; he is laughing and crying at the same time when he mumbles something into your shoulder: “I knew you cared about me.”

You are so happy for the comedic relief you could sob. It helps that you already are.

“How the fuck are you still sweaty?” You choke out, and you think you like his cologne after all.

Six days later, Hyunjin opens the door of his apartment.

A fun-sized flurry of black and white barrages into the hallway outside and almost runs headfirst into the figure waiting there. You fall to your knees like you’ve just been gravely wounded, emitting an ear-piercing wail to match. All it takes is a few good head scratches for Kkami to stop yipping bloody murder and start whining for attention instead. 

Upon minute five of watching you and his dog cuddle in the hallway directly outside his home, Hyunjin sighs.

“Can you come inside, please? My RA will think I’m doing some freaky shit again.”

You side-eye him as you walk into his apartment, Kkami perched happily in your arms. “What, exactly, does freaky shit entail?”

He smirks as the door falls shut. “You want me to tell you or show you?”

You turn to Kkami, disgusted. “Your owner’s a bit of a pervert, my dear.”

Kkami licks you on the chin. Hyunjin’s eyes narrow to slits.

“Traitor.”

Naturally, Hyunjin’s parents chose the eve of his final anthropology exam—and the week before the tournament that will determine the trajectory of his career—to ask him to look after Kkami for a few days. He nearly canceled their plane tickets himself, but his impromptu roommate is currently ransacking your face with kisses on his couch, and he thinks your laugh complements his studio better than any decoration. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” He calls from the kitchen area.

You meander over, Kkami (still) perched happily in your arms. “What do you have?” 

“Alcohol.” He opens his fridge far enough so you can peer over his shoulder. “Americanos.”

He stops speaking.

“Is that all?”

“Yes. Wait—and apple juice.”

“You are about to be a professional athlete.”

“What the Italians don’t know won’t hurt them. You want apple juice, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes.”

“Maybe. Can you open it for me? My hands are full.”

Hyunjin does so with far less reluctance than he feigns. You thank him jubilantly, popping the straw into your mouth.

“Let’s get this over with.”

At 10:32 P.M., all is calm. You are sitting on the floor, your back against the side of his mattress. Hyunjin is where the universe intended: curled up in bed, both him and his laptop lying on their sides. You have studied eight out of ten units in only two and a half hours, and the night is still young. Kkami is but a fluffy, sleepy Oreo by your waist.

At 10:33 P.M., the Oreo begins to retch.

You startle a foot into the air. Hyunjin is out of bed and on his feet in the blink of an eye, the very image of a dog dad on duty. He grabs three different things off the kitchen counter with one hand and scoops up the long-haired chihuahua with the other, and then he’s kicking open the door.

Seungmin appears out of thin air carrying two heaping bags of groceries. Hyunjin nearly knocks him and a month’s worth of fresh produce down four flights of stairs.

“Hyun—Kkami?” Seungmin swivels. “Yo, what the fuck is—”

Hyunjin is already out the door.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin squats off to the side, pouring fresh water into a portable dog bowl. A little ways away, Kkami is throwing up ebulliently; a set of footsteps approaches.

“What is this thing?” Seungmin squats down next to Hyunjin, picking up the piece of patterned fabric lying on the grass. 

“Kkami gets sad after throwing up,” he sighs. “His blanket makes him feel better.”

Seungmin watches the chihuahua for a few moments, a soft flinch crimping his features. “He ate too fast again?”

Hyunjin rakes a hand through his hair. “I don’t get it. Nobody’s gonna take his food from him.”

Seungmin laughs. “I didn’t even know he was on campus.”

“I picked him up last night. My parents are traveling for work—they say hi, by the way.”

“I say hi back. I miss your mom’s cooking.”

“Me too,” Hyunjin says, smiling. “She would love to cook for you again—she’s always saying you’re too skinny.”

“She really is.”

A beat passes; it is then that Hyunjin has an epiphany.

Seungmin was the one who put a volleyball in his hands for the first time. Back then, Hyunjin was the lesser troublemaker between the two of them—a concept that neither of them can wrap their heads around to this day. Seungmin suggested they use the clotheslines in Hyunjin’s backyard as a makeshift net, despite Hyunjin’s dissuading; half of Hyunjin’s father’s wardrobe caught on fire, Seungmin had a black eye for a week, and nobody knows what happened to that volleyball. The two of them have been attached at the hip ever since.

It is a crazy thing, having your best friend as a teammate; a singular flick of the wrist or a point of his shoe and Seungmin will know exactly Hyunjin wants the ball down to the net’s fraying fibers; Hyunjin will be exactly where Seungmin needs him down to the flecks of paint on the volleyball court. Hyunjin has always been Seungmin’s hitter—Seungmin, always Hyunjin’s setter. Nothing will ever change between them so long as that remains the case.

At least, that’s what Hyunjin used to think.

Learning that Seungmin was in a relationship was as much a wake-up call for Hyunjin as it was for you. At first, he was just fucking pissed; how could Seungmin be so stupid as to turn down someone like you, especially when Hyunjin had shot his mouth off about his wingman services? More importantly, how long had his best friend of eighteen years been in love, and why was he the last to know? 

Only now, as they wait for his nine-year-old chihuahua to finish barfing, does Hyunjin realize that he can’t remember the last time he and Seungmin talked. Not “talked” as in a brief exchange inside the locker room or the lecture hall, about a new approach he wants to try or what Seungmin got on number four or if he wants a ride to practice—“talked” as in talked, about Hyunjin, about Seungmin, about the eighteen years they shared, about all the years yet to come.

Hyunjin sees his setter every day; he stopped looking for his friend a long time ago. 

“Yeonwoo, right?”

He senses surprise in Seungmin without having to look at him. But he also senses a smile, a subtle show that Seungmin recognizes what he’s trying to do—and forgives him.

“Yeonwoo,” Seungmin affirms. “We’re in the same songwriting intensive this semester.”

“Also a singer?”

He shakes his head. “Piano player. Performed at the Carnegie Hall in the United States at, like, seven years old. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so talented.”

“Wow, that’s—hi, old man. You done?”

Kkami walks over with his head hung low and tail between his legs, and Hyunjin hurries to drape the pup in his favorite blanket, pulling the bowl of water in front of him in tandem. Seungmin runs a hand over the top of Kkami’s head as he hydrates.

“You’ve suffered,” he tells him solemnly, and Hyunjin snorts.

“As I was saying—that’s crazy to hear, coming from the most talented person I know. You guys looked so good together.”

“Thanks. It’s weird. I’m happy.”

“You deserve it. You really do, Kim.” They exchange smiles, and Hyunjin gives Seungmin a playful nudge. “When are you introducing us?”

“The arcade wasn’t enough?”

“Don’t insult me.”

“Whenever you want, then.”

“Dinner with my mom, dinner with Yeonwoo,” Hyunjin recounts. “I’m holding you to it.”

“Bet.”

They shake on it. If Hyunjin wasn’t already reassured by Seungmin’s smile, he knows by his clasp around his hand that they’ll be okay.

“What about you?” Seungmin asks. “Are you together yet?”

Hyunjin knew this was coming. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” Seungmin strings his hands together, letting them dangle in the space between his knees. “Someone you have questions for that you’re too scared to ask. Someone who’s lived in your mind since the day you met. There’s someone like that, isn’t there?”

Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek. 

Ever since that night on the gym floor, Hyunjin’s been having these dreams. By the time his alarm goes off in the morning, every detail of the dream has eluded him, leaving behind only a ghost of emotion, akin to the breeze that grazes your face moments after walking past another person.

But then he’ll get out of bed, and walk to that café on the east side of campus, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. There, he’ll order a vanilla latte with extra sweetener, then turn around to see you standing five feet away, holding an Americano and trying not to laugh. And he’ll just know, with everything in him, that you are where his head goes when he’s not keeping watch.

He still addresses you by the pet names you hate. He still finds any excuse to be close to you; he still pesters you like a child with a crush. But now, he calls you his baby like one wishes on a star; his eyes drift to your lips every time you’re within two feet of each other; he makes fun of your likes and dislikes only because he’s happy to know about them at all. Ever since that night on the gym floor.

It’s impossible for nothing and everything to change at once. Two people teetering on the precipice of something cannot withstand a gust of wind so powerful. He’s already hanging off the ledge, losing his grip; where are you?

Next to him, Seungmin lets out a soft laugh. “There is.”

Hyunjin doesn’t know what to say.

“It might’ve been me, at some point,” he hums, returning his hand to scratch the back of Kkami’s ears. “But it has always been you, Hyun.”

Four floors above them and inside Hyunjin’s place, you are pacing between his fridge and his bed, nervously awaiting his and Kkami’s return.

Something catches your eye, wide and flat and hung on the wall by his bathroom door. You approach it curiously, your lips pulling into a fond smile the moment you realize all that’s in front of you.

Many of the photographs are of Hyunjin: him in his preteens, dead asleep in bed while dressed head to toe in volleyball gear, braces visible because his mouth is open; an action shot taken at what must’ve been a U21 match, the South Korean flag stitched into the shoulder of his jersey; him with half a birthday cake in front of him and the rest smeared all over his face. There are headlines, too: Underdog team earns district’s first high school volleyball state title; Hwang Hyunjin proves himself worthy of “ace spiker” label at South Korea V. Croatia U19 match; Coach Bang “Christopher” Chan leads Seoul National University to second consecutive KUL championship. There’s one—Who is Hwang Hyunjin? Meet the twenty-year-old instigant of South Korea’s imminent volleyball revolution—beside which he’s written the singular word “mouthful.” You laugh; you agree.

But pinned to the corkboard is also a photograph of Minho, surrounded by stray cats in the alleyway outside a K-BBQ restaurant; his parents cradling Kkami in an apple costume; his high school volleyball team silhouetted against a pretty sunset. Him and Seungmin as kids, covered in grime and scrapes but beaming nonetheless; him and Seungmin at age nineteen, stadium lights on their backs, unadulterated elation on their faces as they charge towards each other, beaming still. Changbin piggybacking Felix through the hallways of the gym, neither of them wearing a shirt; Jisung offering Coach Bang a beer while the latter looks direly unamused (you make a mental note to ask about that one later); what looks like a Rock Lee cosplayer grimacing in the middle of your anthropology classroom.

You rush forward as if decreed by gravitational force. Not too far away is another picture of you, in which you boast a Miffy headband and a face full of foaming cleanser. Then another, your eyes narrowed like that of a sniper taking aim as you’re playing Tetris; you with so many volleyballs piled into your arms that you can’t see your own face; your cheeks squished by a bandaged hand after you lost a bet about pandas (they can swim); you clutching your stomach on the library floor, brought to hysterical tears by Professor Kim’s email. You, you, you.

You bring your pointer finger to this last image, tracing it over the curve of your own cheek. You see a dimple on your face you didn’t know you had. You realize it only comes out for him.

It has always been him.

The front door opens. A man with telephone poles for legs and a long-haired chihuahua in his arms appears behind it. You sense in him that something has changed since you last saw each other. The two of you lock eyes. 

It’s not awkward this time.

Multiple yards behind the service line, Hyunjin is rotating a volleyball in his hands. It feels solid and sentient, an extension of himself held in cotton-clad fingers. He knows how this story will end.

He moves his eyes to his best friend’s back. Four fingers flash back at him twice, signaling a high lob set to the left, the very play they’ve practiced tirelessly for the last five weeks. The breath Hyunjin blows out of his cheeks seems to crystallize in the air, almost solid in all its exhilaration. 

He bends low and throws high. His arms drop behind his body like a spread of feathered wings; his feet fall into place below him like a meteor shower, two consecutive strikes against the earth that fissure its mantle. The lights overhead are bright. His palm pulls taut when it slams into leather. He knows how this story will end.

The volleyball tears towards the ground. It trembles as if scared by all that it holds: the guarantee of a flawless denouement, the catalyst of a radiant future. Hyunjin’s heart is beating hard enough to crack his ribs when he lands back on the ground, when the volleyball lands in the furthest corner of the court. He’s not scared at all.

He balls his fingers into fists.

“JUST LIKE LAST YEAR, BACK TO BACK ON AN ACE—”

An arm seizes Hyunjin’s neck; another drags him onto the floor. His head thuds onto the hardwood with a sound he hears over the whole world detonating. His vision fills with the faces of the people he cares for most, some covered in tears and others rivaling the ceiling with their blinding smiles. He can’t feel most of his body; his sweat drips into his mouth. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care.

“—DEFENDING THEIR TITLE FOR THE THIRD CONSECUTIVE YEAR—”

His eyes find Seungmin’s among the fray. Their hands clap together with such force that Hyunjin cusses at the impact. Seungmin’s gaze burns into his with a ferocity that Hyunjin plans to take to his grave. His setter. His best friend.

He says something inaudible, but Hyunjin reads the words off his lips, and his eyes fill with tears: we win everything.

“—YOUR NATIONAL CHAMPIONS: SEOUL NATIONAL UNIVERSITY!”

Hyunjin’s post-game interview is a lawless affair. He is allowed at most half an answer before a new teammate is barreling over with an animalistic screech or a new friend is screaming congratulations from out of frame.

The reporter is visibly agitated by her final question, unpursing her lips to ask: “Is there anyone you’d like to thank?”

Hyunjin exhales. “You want the short answer or the long—”

Changbin seizes him by the head. Hyunjin bursts into a peal of high-pitched laughter as the libero litters kisses all over his face, nearly crumpling to the floor in his attempt to escape.

“Love you,” he yells before hurrying off. 

“Love you too, Bin.”

Hyunjin turns a sheepish smile to the reporter.

“The short answer,” she deadpans.

He starts counting off his fingers. He thanks his family—his first and last teammates, his eternal anchors. His other family, his actual teammates, the best boys he’s ever known. His coach, who will let him call him Chris someday. His best friend and setter, Kim Seungmin, who set a clothesline on fire once and changed his life forever.

In the distance, a figure emerges from the locker rooms. There’s a navy blue SNU banner draped over your shoulders, two overflowing duffel bags in your hands. Jisung and Jeongin run over to take them from you, and the smile you give them is wide and flushed, a remnant of the elation you shared from afar. The three of you start walking out of the gym.

Hyunjin thanks you.

You didn’t ask for the position, he tells the reporter, but some idiot roped you into it, and they’re all so grateful that you decided to stick around. You know the team better than they know themselves—it’s hard to believe you’ve been with them for five weeks instead of five years.

What are you like? What aren’t you like, is the better question. You’re caring, smart, strong; you see so much goodness in the people around you, all while unaware that it is your warmth that brings it out of them. Flowers only bloom in the sun’s doting radius, and so did he.

You have the sort of soul that incurs the scorn of the stars. They are the only ones to deserve you, they'd argue; you’re wasting your potential among humans when you belong to the sky, and they’d be right.

Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek, suddenly annoyed.

“Why the fuck am I still talking to you?” 

“Pardon?” The reporter returns, but Hyunjin is already vaulting over the bleachers, making a mad dash for the exit. She gives her cameraman an affronted glare. He shrugs.

He explodes onto the concrete, looking around in a frantic haze. He finds the blue banner heading toward the team bus and flanked by his teammates with ease.

He calls out to you.

You glance backwards. Your smile is purely effulgent, your laugh but a faint sigh against the area’s busy thrum. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram again, but he’s used to this feeling by now. Jeongin and Jisung make themselves scarce.

You’re beautiful. God, you’re fucking beautiful. That was the first thought to enter his mind when he spilled an iced Americano on your lap all those months ago and you looked at him like he hailed from another planet. And it is the first thought to enter his mind now, when he runs up to you and cradles your face in his hands, his touch infinitely, impossibly gentle, and you look at him like he’s everything that has ever existed, everything that ever will. 

Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He could’ve counted your eyelashes—if he didn’t have something far better to do.

“Tell me now if you don’t want me to do this,” he whispers.

A stupid smile crosses the face of the smartest person he knows. “My lips are sealed.”

Hyunjin kisses you. He kisses you until the banner around your shoulders is wrinkled under his touch, until your hands are tangled in his hair and aching his scalp, until the breaths you take are breaths you share, passed between your mouths like a puff of smoke before they’re colliding again.

He kisses you until he’s crying, again, until he’s no longer tasting your lips but your grin, and he kisses you only harder when those scornful stars start to dance before him, for you are his, not theirs, and he’s really won everything, now.

“Hwang, I need you in my office.”

Six months later, Hyunjin sees Coach Bang standing a few yards away with a grim air about him. He stops in his footsteps and glances at his captain, confused.

“I know nothing,” Seungmin says, walking away. “Good luck!”

“Thanks, cap.” Hyunjin swears he’s had this exact exchange before.

Head volleyball coach Christopher Bang’s workspace still reminds Hyunjin of a morgue. But there are two picture frames on his desk now: one of his family in front of the Sydney Opera House, the other of a band of boys clad in navy blue, draped over one another in exhausted bliss. The latter lends the room a much-needed sense of vitality. Too bad it still houses a rusty cyborg.

Hyunjin closes the door and takes a seat. Bang taps a knuckle against the tempered glass of his monitor. “Read.”

From: Nicola Daldello «ndaldello@pvm.com» To: Bang “Christopher” Chan «cb97@snu.edu» Subject: Re: Allianz Milano V. Pallavolo Perugia practice game Christopher, Allow me to apologize for my delayed response as I shared your request with Chairman Piazza. It is my great pleasure to inform you that we would love for Mr. Hwang Hyunjin to participate in our practice game versus Pallavolo Perugia. The match is scheduled for Monday, October 7th, 5-7 P.M. CET in the Giurati Sports Centre in Milan. Mr. Hwang will be playing for Allianz Milano as an outside hitter alongside Mr. Matey Kaziyski, Mr. Osniel Mergarejo, and Mr. Ishikawa Yuki. Please let me know of your availability to call regarding Mr. Hwang’s travel logistics. His transportation and lodging costs will be paid for by the club. I’m looking forward to speaking with you and welcoming Mr. Hwang to Italy once and for all. Yours, Nicola Daldello Assistant Coach, Allianz Milano

“I told you, some opportunities just present themselves,” Bang says, turning his monitor back around. “As for next steps, I need a holistic calendar view of your entire month of October, including social ev—Hwang, is that foam coming out of your mo—NOT ON MY CARPET! HWANG!”

In a park about a ten minute walk away, a small crowd of elderly people are scattered across a few stone tables, hunched over the fading chess boards painted into the granite surfaces. Mrs. Choi whisks away Mrs. Baek’s king with a triumphant yelp.

“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! That opening is unbeatable!” She swivels towards you, shaking a fist threateningly. “You! Get over here. Your reign is over.”

You are sitting cross-legged in the shade of a broad magnolia tree, clearing out your storage. You tried to take a picture of a particularly rotund pigeon to send to Hyunjin earlier and couldn’t even do that. It was then you decided you couldn't live like this anymore.

“As excited as I am to beat you again, Mrs. Choi, I need ten more minutes,” you call back. 

She presents you with an unpleasant hand gesture. You turn your attention back to your phone, grinning. Two new notifications sit at the top of your lock screen.

Hyunjin: Omw now. Sorry had to talk to Chris Hyunjin: Same park? Y/N: yes Hyunjin: Who’s our opponent today Y/N: mrs. choi Hyunjin: Not that bitch again Y/N: ?

He’ll be here in eight minutes.

You return to the task at hand. You’ve already cleared out your apps, your documents, and videos; all that’s left is the audio files. You conduct a quick mental review. Surely you’ll live without your downloaded music and accidental voice memos.

Instead of hitting the “delete” button, you extract a pair of tangled earphones from your jacket pocket.

You go back to your texts with Hyunjin, open the shared attachments tab, and scroll for a long time before you find the voice note he sent you seven months ago.

He finds you a sobbing mess.

“Hey, hey, whoa.” He’s on his knees in an instant, gathering your hands into his, a world of concern in the brown of his eyes. Your earbuds fall out and clatter onto the cement below. “Baby, what’s happening? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you say in a flustered haste. “Yes, I’m okay. I don’t—I don’t really know what’s happening.”

“Did that hag do this to you?” He asks this question so seriously. “I’ll beat up a senior citizen, I don’t give a fuck—”

“No!” You let out an ugly laugh through your tears. “No, no. Leave Mrs. Choi alone.”

“Then what is it? What’s wrong?”

Eventually, your vision clears enough for you to look at the man kneeling in front of you. His roots grow out longer every day, his hair by now nearly equal parts gold and black. A spot of sunlight infiltrates the magnolia leaves and lands on his left eye, turning it the hue of melted bronze.

Your fingers drift to the sides of his beautiful face as you lean in close; he smells like a combination of smoky rose and tropical coastlines.

“I’ll tell you later,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his hairline. 

He is dissatisfied with this, hooking a pointer finger beneath your chin, guiding your face back to his. He laves the saltwater from your lips, your tongue, and then you’re smiling again, barely able to remember why you cried in the first place.

You rest your foreheads together. “Have I told you that you look like a bumblebee these days?”

He smiles. “Does that make you my flower, then?”

“Because you’re irresistably drawn to me?”

“No, because I wanna put my pollen in—”

You shove him away. “You are grotesque.”

He returns in a flash. “You love me.”

You kiss him again. And again. And one more time for good measure, during which you mumble I do against his lips, and then you remember something.

“Why did Coach hold you back, by the way?” You pull away, tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “Are you in trouble again?”

“No, no. The opposite, actually.”

Your brow furrows. “The opposite? What—”

“In this lifetime, please,” Mrs. Choi hollers from the chess tables. You roll your eyes. Hyunjin smiles helplessly.

“Duty calls, my love.”

“Tell me your thing later too?”

“Of course.”

You dust yourself off and stand up, making your way to the battleground. But not before you whisper to Hyunjin, “now watch me beat up a senior citizen.”

He laughs with his whole body, his eyes the shape of crescent moons, his mouth a little rectangle.

“Hypocrite.”

Hyunjin: [1 Audio Message]

This is my seventh take and I’m not recording an eighth. What you get is what you get. I don’t care anymore.

I understand if you don’t wanna talk about what happened at the arcade. I wouldn’t, either. I just wanted to say that you don’t have to do this tutoring thing anymore. I won’t be able to fulfill my end of our deal, so…yeah, it wouldn’t be fair to you. You’ve already done so much for us. For me.

As for team manager, you’ll have to talk to Minho and Coach Bang if you wanna quit. Doesn’t sound like a fun conversation, I know—but if that’s what you decide, I’ll have your back. They don’t scare me. Well, they do. But only sometimes.

You’ve been…distant, this week. I’ve known peace and quiet for the first time since we met, and I fucking hate it. I realized I couldn’t care less if you’re my tutor or my team manager or whatever—I just don’t want you to be a stranger. Maybe that’s selfish of me to say, but I’m tired of pretending the idea of losing you doesn’t terrify me. It does. It really fucking does.

I’m gonna end this here, because I almost just stopped recording on accident and I’ll genuinely commit homicide if I have to do all this again. Sorry that this got so long, and…I’m sorry about everything. You deserve better.

Come back to me whenever you’re ready, okay? I’ll be waiting.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・@automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8・@weedforthoughtz・@hyunverse

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[fillinforlater]

SULLied MINd

Male Reader x Kim Minju, Seol Yonna (Sullyoon)

Length: 10.228 words

Tags: art-project all nighter turns threesome, secret crushes, softly making out, stripping, striptease, shy to bold, double blowjob, worshiping cock and balls, cunnilingus, fingering, clit play, facial, cumsluts, virginity taken, missionary, sweat, stocking kink, riding, rimming, stand and carry, cum drinking, lots of perverted thoughts, lucky!you

TW: I barely finished this in time, so the editing is not that in depth lol

Inspiration: Minju and Sullyoon just go together very well, dunno if @sinswithpleasure was the first to give this idea, but the pairing definitely comes from The Bunker... the rest is my own craziness

(A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVORITE GIRL! Happy Minju day to everyone, I hope you enjoy this fic which was supposed to be like around 4-5k...)

“No, you gotta put it in here, not in there!”

“I-I can’t, my hand is too big for the hole.”

“Then try using your fingers, that should work.”

“Eh, okay, but you need to hold onto the legs, otherwise it’ll fall over.”

“Let me get in between the—ah, Minju, watch out! Now my hand is all white.”

“Oops, Sorry.”

The struggle behind you is real, the struggle in front of you—the unfinished essay due tomorrow that is—is real too, but those spoken words cannot be real. You know exactly what Minju and Sullyoon are referring to when talking about white stuff and holes and size. After all, they are working hard to wrap up the project all of you have procrastinated on for so long and it’s bound to be a mess.

You start to trip over your own unspoken words. The lewdness in your mind is unfathomable, a mess can be a mess without mess being the wild, chaotic, imaginary sex that seems to creep into your brain more and more.

No, focus. It’s just a mess because Sullyoon and Minju still don’t know how to put together the human-sized post-modern sculpture of a robot made from cardboard, newspapers and glue—white glue, that drips from Sullyoon’s hand as she tries to shove a painted cardboard cylinder into—

You did it again. Your thoughts are betraying you.

“What are you looking at?” Sullyoon nags, when she spots your dreamy gaze on her hand. Wait, are you drooling? What the fuck is happening?

“N-nothing, nothing,” you quickly turn around and look at the pathetic pile of words that neither make sense nor reach the required minimum amount to pass. “It’s just that—you two are too loud, I can’t concentrate.”

Minju throws you a concerned look, while Sullyoon aggressively wipes her hands on a paper towel and hits you over the head with a piece of cardboard. Now there’s some stickiness in your hair

“Oh yeah? You’re still the furthest behind—I’ll do the writing, I can’t build for shit—that’s what you said and you are still not finished.”

“Sully, please, don’t scream,” Minju groans and gets on her knees in between the sculptures legs, her head on level with what could be its crotch. “Let’s just focus, okay? Can you give me the, uhm, white stuff? I need to fix the butt.”

And now Minju is spreading glue all over the—it’s better you look away and focus on the task ahead. The essay should go over all the different periods of, uhm. Or maybe the various stages during, some-thing? Perhaps the teacher wants a concise summary of how you came up with the idea and created the illusion of Sullyoon sticking her fingers in Minju’s pussy and making her face contort into—

“You’re drooling!” Sullyoon shouts and hits you again.

“Sully, please!” Minju tries to calm the situation down.

“What? Can I not be angry that this lazy ass is just daydreaming—”

“Sully, language! And stop screaming!”

“You’re both screaming and shouting, how should I concentrate?”

“You—”

Sullyoon is about to throw hands. Though they both might give off a similar reserved, kind, beauty vibe to the unsuspecting outsider, Sullyoon and Minju are quite different. It shows now more than ever, when Sullyoon slams her fist on the desk next to you and stares you down into the chair, while Minju sits on her bed, one leg crossed over the other, head lowered in defeat and annoyance.

“Stand up,” Sullyoon orders, her grip on your biceps harsh, as if she tried to scar you with her nails. “I’ll do it, save the project while you can fuck off.”

“The fuck?” you shout back, face angry. Sullyoon’s hand is slapped away and you’re about to fight more if she doesn’t back off. “You won’t do anything, and don’t curse at me. Who do you think you are?”

“Guys—”

“Oh my God, you’re unbelievable!” Sullyoon interrupts Minju and opens her adorable eyes wide in rage. “You’re gonna fail us with that—pathetic excuse of a text.”

“It would be better if you could keep your mouth shut, Sullyoon, and let me finish this in peace. Also, the robot is still not upright. If he falls over, Miss Kwon will rip our heads off.” You can barely hold yourself together. The only positive thoughts for Sullyoon, if you can call them that, are the lewd ones, those imagining her naked, her navel exposed, her pussy bare.

“Guys, I—!”

“Oh and that’s my fault? I bet your drool will make it unstable. I swear if you turn around one more time—”

“Then what? You’ll beat me, assault me? I think Miss Kwon won’t give you a better grade then—”

An ear-shattering boom. The door is shut, the door to Minju’s room—Minju, who is not with you anymore. For such a kind and bubbly girl, this fight must have killed her. She was the one suggesting that you all do the project at her place, with her parents out of town. She made cookies beforehand and had something planned for dinner too.

“I-I think we overdid it,” Sullyoon sums it up with an usually soft whisper and you nod in shame. Minju has been nothing short of an excellent host for the two of you.

Suddenly, Sullyoon’s phone rings. She doesn’t get time to answer it however, as the caller seems to end the call within a moment's notice.

“I’ll be out, gimme a second,” Sullyoon says and runs to the door.

“Sure.” She didn’t even hear that, that’s how quiet your voice was. Outside, you hear Sullyoon hurrying down the stairs. There is turmoil in your head about what you ought to do. Should you just sit here and wait for them to come back? Is it better if you go downstairs as well, apologize to Minju, so the three of you can continue with the project? Should you continue alone, perhaps?

You decide on option four: sneak towards the door, carefully open it and then lay low while trying to pick up what they are talking about. They surely aren’t fighting anymore, but their voices are loud enough for you to clearly hear every word.

“It was stupid of me, okay? Can we go back upstairs and finish our sculpture?” Sullyoon asks with loving care.

“I-I don’t know if I can,” Minju sniffles. “This was embarrassing.”

“What do you mean? You weren’t embarrassing, we were. This fight was—”

“No, you don’t get it, Sully!”

Now things seem to get heated. You can hear Minju jumping up from a chair, while Sullyoon gasps.

“Then explain it to me, Minju!”

“Okay, screw it.

“I like him, okay? Two years, I have waited two years for us to finally be in a project—and now you two are fighting! You are ruining my chances with him!”

The silence is deafening. If you weren’t lying prone on the floor already, your knees would have collapsed and you would’ve landed in the same spot anyways. What a revelation! For the first time in your life, you believe that either your ears are deceiving you or that you’re in the most lucid dream imaginable. Never before has a girl had feelings for you—

“This can’t be real,” Sullyoon suddenly laughs out loud. “You like this guy?”

“Wha-what do you mean?” Minju hisses back, whiny, like she’s about to cry. “He is very-very handsome a-and I’ve seen his abs. He is also smart, have you heard him talk about history? It’s so attractive.”

“Yeah, of course I have, he is like talking non-stop in history class.” Sullyoon’s tone has shifted from shocked and dismissive to a bit dreamy, almost like she is admiring you. “And the way he pronounces all these foreign words, or how he gives it his all in PE—”

“Wait a minute,” Minju interjects and you can hear the grin as it forms on her face. “You like him too, Sully!”

“Not anymore, not after his lazy ass didn’t do a damn thing during our project.” Another second of silence, then both of them start laughing hysterically, one is stomping on the floor, the other tries to cover her mouth to muffle the loudness.

You’ve heard enough. No, seriously. At this point, you could die happily. Two of the prettiest girls in the entire school like you and both of them are in your project group which will surely last until the next morning at your current pace. What else could you want more? Countless guys would kill to have such an opportunity.

But you want more.

“Crazy, we have the same crush. Oh, have you seen the pictures of his abs?” Minju asks excitedly after the two have finished their laughing fit.

“No, but I was about to ask: how did you get those?” Sullyoon gasps again and then giggles while both start to whisper. The whispers are too quiet, you can barely pick up any syllables. This marks the perfect moment to get back in front of the PC so they won’t catch you eavesdropping when they come back up. It also gives you time to think about what you want to do.

The image of them and their crush on you hasn’t fully settled yet, however, you’re already planning how this night might continue, what might happen, what you should say. Unlike during exams, you don’t feel pressure or tension that’s about to crush you—there is just excitement and a feeling of being loved.

“Hey, we-we are back,” Minju says a few minutes later, her face all red when she enters her room. Sullyoon follows after her, her hair a bit messier than before. Unlike Minju, she is able to hide her feelings for you quite well, now that you know.

“Hey,” you respond with a soft voice. “Look, Minju, I’m so sorry about earlier. I should’ve done my job. I won’t let you guys down this time, I promise. Sullyoon, if you want to, you can write the text. Sorry that I was so rude earlier.”

“I-it’s fine.” Both their voices seem to break when you stand up and give each an apologetic bow. With your new knowledge, you assume that this is a good sign, like selecting the correct dialogue option in a video game.

“Are you sure you want to switch, though?” Sullyoon asks and you nod.

“It’s settled then.” Minju grabs a wrist from you and a wrist from Sullyoon and has this adorable, bright smile on her beaming face. “Let’s not fight anymore and finish this dang project!”

“You are absolutely right, Minju!” you gleefully say. “You two are pretty awesome, so I’ll give it my all.”

Both their breaths pick up in pace; who would have thought that you could make the hearts of girls flutter with just a bright, sunshine smile. Sullyoon and Minju quickly dive back into work, ears still red, and you pretend to be completely unaware. Unaware of their feelings, unaware of their hopes, unaware of their—potentially sullied thoughts.

But could those two angelic looking girls really have the same impurities in their minds as you do? Can it match your fantasies of one of them admitting their love to you tonight, you kissing, cuddling and fucking secretly in the bathroom, while the other continues to work on the project? Maybe they have similar thought, but did they ever consider—

“Can you, uhm, hand me the, eh—” Minju stutters and taps her temple in thought. She looks adorable doing so.

“Do you need the model? Some cardboard? Scissors?” you ask back but Minju shakes her head, a bit abashed that she lacks the focus to say which item she needs. Thinking of scissors, your fantasy does not stop at some one-on–one lovemaking. You’d want the other to join, all three of your tongues in a make out session while your hand is in the back of their panties. You want to fondle their butts and hear them moan before they would scissor, their wet pussies rubbing up and down your manhood until you explode.

“I need the… white stuff.”

“You need the white stuff—from me?”

A quiet whisper, Sullyoon could not have picked it up. Minju halts for a second, then her face turns beet red and she hides it behind her palms, while her eyes keep looking at your awfully-well played innocent expression. Worriedly, you reach for her face and Minju gasps. What does she expect? Certainly not what follows.

“Oh, there is some glue in your hair, Minju. Guess we should wash out the white stuff~”

With that said, you grab her hand and pull her out of her bedroom. To the surprise of Sullyoon, whose questions go unheard, you and Minju enter the upper floor bathroom. There you immediately find a wet towel and start to rub Minju’s hair, and with every second that you dishevel her hair, you also seem to dishevel her mind.

Minju is perplexed, trembling, unable to react to you, especially when you inch closer and really focus on that annoying spot. The two of you forgot to turn on the bathroom lights, so there is only the dim moonlight to reveal to you the absolute dream that are Minju’s eyes: full of love, uncertainty and want.

“I think I got it out,” you finally whisper and drop the towel. “Sorry for messing up your hair.”

Minju smiles softly: “N-no, thank you. You might have saved it, a-actually.”

“Minju—” A moment of silence, full of purpose, of tension, but you bask in it. You can hear Minju’s heart racing and if you’re honest, the muscle in your chest is pumping like crazy as well. “You, you are very beautiful, one of the prettiest girls on this planet.”

“Re-really!?”

“Yes. I wish I could

“Kiss your lips; they look so soft.”

They are so soft, no doubt about it, especially when they accept you so willingly at first and then won’t let go when you try to pull back a little. Minju is on cloud nine and she wants to stay. Her adorable hands hold onto your sleeves, while you hold the back of her head securely in the palm of your hand. There is no tongue movement, there is no tongue movement needed, because it all comes together for her—

A fairy tale moment, out of nowhere, for the girl with her crush.

But your play isn’t over. After a short while, you regretfully remove yourself from her lips and continue to hold her close, hand on the small of her back. When you look down you are greeted by a look—this look of mesmerized love, with teary eyes of joy and panting lips of desire on Minju’s flawless features. How could you want more?

This is how mankind moves forward: by wanting what they don’t yet have.

“Minju,” you take a deep breath and close your eyes. “I—before we continue, and I really do want to—I have to tell you something.”

“Y-yes?”

“I like you, I really, really like you.

“But you know how multiple people can have the same crush? I, my heart, has this issue that—I, I like multiple people! I can never escape it, there is nothing I can do. That doesn’t mean that my love isn’t real—I just want to be honest with you.”

Minju, in the midst of all these surprises and twists and turns for her, looks surprisingly calm and nods carelessly. Of course she is a bit dazed, after all, your lips were just on hers and she can take them back just by getting on her toes, but this should still be a bit weird for her. At least, that is what you assumed.

“I-I don’t care,” she suddenly blurts out and her arms wrap around you tightly. “Why should I judge you? There are probably so many pretty girls out there. I-I’m just happy that you… noticed me.”

“Are you for real?” In a sudden surge of happiness, you lift Minju up and spin her around. “You are so wonderful, I know why I fell in love with you.”

This should wrap up your Oscar performance—well, it’s already beyond that. At this point the feelings for Minju feel more than just acted. How could they not? She is gorgeous, light, her lips are tender, her character adorable and you cannot escape what your heart is telling you: love her, because she loves you.

There is however still—

“Pl-please! Please love me too!”

A loud scream, and Sullyoon bursts into the room. You may not be able to see the correct colors of her face, but you know she is either pale because Minju ‘stole’ you from her or she is red all over because she thinks there is a chance, a tiny chance that you also like her. Nonetheless, all these thoughts become irrelevant, because Minju almost collapses from shock. You catch her before she is able to hit her head on the sink.

The bathroom door still rattles, but the three of you just stare at one another, eyes wide open. The situation is so absurd, you must be dreaming, dead or in heaven—all at the same time, Minju’s entire existence is in your arms and Sullyoon seems willing to join her. She is close, her hands folded as if she is begging for your love. Her breath is hot, right in your face and so unsteady.

“Sullyoon.” Minju’s voice is faint, not even a whisper, but it’s loud. It’s both a statement and a question, a question directed at you. Is this what you were talking about earlier? Could it really be that the two who have a crush on you, would not have to fight? To put it very simply: Do you love Sullyoon too?

At least tonight, you do.

“I—

“I do, actually.” Those few words have you out of breath, before you can continue, Sullyoon has taken a spot in your arms next to Minju. The speed with which your dreams come true is mind boggling, but you play it cool and hold both of them close, an arm around each of their waists.

“You mean it?” Sullyoon has never sounded this cute, not in class, not during breaks and definitely not tonight. Who can resist her with those pouty lips that adorn silky smooth, perfectly symmetrical features? “You really like me?”

“Yes, I do, I like you both. This, this has to be a dream.”

“What, uhm,” Minju stutters and looks at you, similar expression to Sullyoon, her eyes also beaming, her chin tilted towards you—their similarities become uncanny in this dimly lit bathroom. “What are we going to do now?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper and smile.

“We still have a project to finish,” Sullyoon sighs and puts her head against your chest, which does not make for a good pillow with its constant up and down movement and Minju right next to her.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I think we should finish it. Let’s focus and then maybe our thoughts are a bit more… sorted.” Both girls nod, but it takes some more convincing before they let you go. The fear that they could lose you to the other makes them stay a bit longer until you have to push through them. It’s a playful struggle, which is only resolved when the three of you go back to Minju’s room.

All is quiet for a good, productive thirty minutes. The cardboard sculpture is finally painted and read to dry, the text only needs a few more tweaks, the project is in its final stage. All you can think about, however, are your groupmates, especially when your sight drifts away from the task ahead to their faces, their hands, their hips.

“Minju, can you help me?” Sullyoon groans. “I need to finish, this bottom part is so hard!”

“Of course, let me just—put this here and this into that—do you think it fits now?”

“It still looks too big, don’t you think? Maybe we should stretch it—”

“Or we could share it? I think if we both do it, it will be better.”

Hit yourself on your forehead, because the brain behind it once again can only think of the lewd. Minju and Sullyoon are trying their best to format this text and split it into fair portions for the presentation—yet all you think about is how they admire your big cock, share it in between their parted lips and then, Minju helps Sullyoon to go down on it with her throat.

After you are all covered in her spit, Sullyoon would grab your base and put it on Minju’s folds, ease you into her and all kinds of moans would fill the room and alert all neighbors who are still awake.

“I think this is good,” Minju ultimately concludes and turns to you. “Do you want to take a look too?”

You shake your head. “Uhm, no, I’m sure it’s excellent. Wow, looks like we really finished it.”

“Okay, so.” Sullyoon spins around in her chair, hands hidden in between her thighs and everything vibrates. “Are we going to talk now about… our situation?”

“I think we are all adults, we can talk about it.” Minju fidgets a bit and looks at you. They are both waiting for you to say something, but you just smirk without a worry in the world and lay down on Minju’s bed.

“Sure, we can talk. Let’s be honest, be free. Don’t care what the rest things, just

“Tell me what you feel.”

Sullyoon pushes the chair closer to you with her feet and Minju sits down on her bed, less bold than Sullyoon, because her eyes are fixed on the other end of the mattress. You get her attention when you fingers lock with hers, but the first to speak up is Sullyoon.

“I think I have a crush on you. Two years ago it started and I can’t explain why, but—you grew very handsome during that time a-and you’re pretty smart, so—”

“I feel the same!” Minju suddenly shouts and her fingers squeeze yours tightly. “And sorry, I-I once took a picture of your, uhm, abs when you changed your shirt. It was stupid, I’ll delete it right now—”

You laugh and pull Minju on top of you. Now her gaze cannot escape yours anymore and she has to see the true awe in your eyes. A natural awe for her beauty, her kindness and the way her honesty reveals all those secret feelings.

“Delete them if you like,” you hum and place the palm of Minju’s hand on your abdomen while flexing your muscles. “But you can take some more high quality pictures, if you want to.”

Jealousy overtakes a formerly hesitant Sullyoon and she pounces onto the bed next to you. Her hands are still hidden in between her thighs, but you can see that she wants to touch what Minju is already groping.

Sullyoon doesn’t even have to ask. You grab her wrist and slowly guide it under your sweatshirt. Though she tries to act shocked and abashed, you can feel her digits roaming all over your abs greedily as she visibly drools. Minju had most of your attention until now. Now it’s Sullyoon’s turn to feel your love in the form of a wet kiss pressed right onto her already wet lips. Unlike Minju, she tries to go all in on the first go, but you quickly pull away with a chuckle and watch her eager tongue searching for your mouth.

“Sully, open your eyes,” you softly laugh at her and drag a finger over her flushed, tender cheek as she does so. “Don’t be scared, I’m not going anywhere. If you are okay with it, I can love you both with all my heart.”

“I want to share you,” she says with determination and immediately contradicts her statement by lunging at you and starting a torrential kiss that has Minju hiding her face behind her long, cascading hair. It’s all faux, because in the meantime, she has rolled up your sweatshirt to your chest. Gently she pokes your pecs and you giggle into the kiss with Sullyoon.

“Good to know we are all on the same page,” you finally voice your own feelings when Sullyoon backs off to catch her breath. “I think I could cuddle you both for the rest of the night and forget every worry, every task, every stupid responsibility ahead of us.”

Funny how your dreams come true, again. An arm around each of their waists, you pull Minju and Sullyoon deeper into the softness of pillows and blankets generously spread on Minju’s mattress. Both your cheeks are quickly peppered with kisses, cute, hesitant ones from Minju, from chin to ear and wild, playful ones from Sullyoon, from the edge of your collarbone to your lips. She seals them again and this time you can hear Minju become jealous with a loud huff.

This back and forth of envy, you see no way to disrupt it anytime soon. Come to think of it, maybe you don’t want to. This dynamic pushes them further to reveal more of their love, so give them what they want. You are theirs to love and play with—but you will play with them too.

“Minju,” you say, your voice purposefully low and more serious than before. “You have such amazing hips. They are wide and look so perfect on you.”

You turn towards her and reach for the top of her skirt. Insert a couple fingers into it and let them glide along the waistband until you reach the outermost point of her hips. Minju tenses up when you begin to grab her hips, the skin of your palms right on her underwear, slipped into her skirt. You pull her even closer and she is back to holding onto your sleeves.

“Such nice hips.” Rub them, and Minju starts to rub herself on you, face on your bare chest and crotch on your thigh. Speaking of thighs, Sullyoon might have felt neglected for a second, so you find her mouth with ease and bully her tongue with yours while putting a hand on her inner thigh. Sullyoon shrieks the more you touch her jeans-clad legs, no matter if you go down to where her calves begin or if you go up to where her pussy is aching.

“Wow, Sully, your legs, your thighs are fantastic. I bet they are very soft.”

“T-touch them more, please,” Sullyoon softly whimpers and you nod. Minju is too enamored with her own thighs around yours, she does not realize her friend popping open her jeans and sliding them down. Your hesitation, your careful planning gets thrown out of the window when you slide your hand over her soft skin and go to bite her lips.

“They are the softest, damn, I could knead them all day long.” Your hot breath mixes with Sullyoon when you go from some basic thigh stimulation to cupping her sex and pressing your palm on her covered clit. “Your panties are cute too~”

No time to focus on Sullyoon’s embarrassed face, because Minju’s takes your entire view. You try to kiss her mouth but she backs off, even climbs off the bed and stands next to it. Both her hands firmly grasps the hem of her skirt, her knuckles turn white—that’s how hard she grabs it while her voice sounds absolutely love drunk:

“I-I have cute panties too,” she complains and lifts her skirt up, higher than you thought she would dare to. Not only you, her crush, that can see this most private part, but her friend can as well. Your eyes are glued to the small, pink garment with its tiny wet spot at the front, very cute indeed, maybe even cuter than Sullyoon’s baby blue panties which at this point become ruined on your hand.

“They are really cute, Minju.” You smile, she cracks a small smile. “I did not know you two had such lewd minds and wild fantasies.”

“Can we see y-your underwear now?” Sullyoon avoids your statement with a pout while simultaneously confirming it. Minju joins her nods, skirt still held high, her panties just a bit wetter at the thought of you. “Yes, please, we-we want to see it, it’s only fair!”

“Hm, how about a deal then, my two lewd girlfriends: I’m all yours, you can undress me and play with me until you are satisfied, but first you give me a show. I want you two undressing each other slowly. Sounds like a deal?”

At this point, everything is so out of control, you might as well ask for a favor that usually would get you kicked out. After all, this isn’t porn, not every girl is into girls and into threesomes, but Minju and Sullyoon have shown to be so needy for you, their libido will take over all reasoning. To no surprise, both only hesitate for a second.

“I’m okay with that,” Sullyoon whispers. “You too, Minju?” She leaves the spot in your arm and walks behind her friend. “Are you okay with me touching you?”

“S-sure.” They both get into it quickly. Minju drops her arms and lets them dangle while her needy face is directed at you. Sullyoon makes sure you can see her fingers play with the waistband of Minju’s skirt, just like you did, and she teases you by only pulling down one side, then the other. It’s only when you groan in disapproval that she moves upwards and pulls Minju’s sweatshirt over her head.

You totally expected a bra behind this comfy, cotton barrier, but no: Minju is wearing a white shirt underneath and the tease just continues. Sullyoon finds the lowest button first and works her way up, sending chills down Minju’s spine.

An amazing midriff, toned abs around a cute little navel; you can’t help but ogle when Sullyoon presses her fingers into them and gasps in surprise. No words need to be spoken—that’s probably how Minju likes it more as well. She struggles to relax, especially when the final button pops and her shirt opens like curtains to reveal her bra, the same color as her panties, erect nipples visible through the thin garment.

“May I?” Sullyoon asks, basically blowing the question into Minju’s ear as her hands already fiddle with the clasp of the bra. The sound of silence is nothing but hot breaths and the faint creaking of Minju’s bed as you adjust yourself to get closer with her still-covered breasts.

Still covered.

Still covered.

“O-okay,” Minju whispers, whines, it doesn’t matter, you finally get to see her upper body in all its glory, and you find glory to be an understatement: her breasts are perfectly symmetrical, not saggy but quite perky and a bit smaller than your hands. You could cover them up and knead them without much effort; it takes effort however to not look absolutely overwhelmed as your dreamy eyes focus on erect nipples and round arolae.

“What do you think?” Sullyoon asks the question with an answer that is obvious but hard to put into words.

“Minju, your body looks…

“... very, very hot. I-I’ve never seen something so flawless.”

“And you haven’t even seen what’s behind this~” Sullyoon’s voice is sultry as she taps Minju’s skirt. She once again teases you, her smooth hand under the skirt and once you hear Minju shriek, you know what she is about to do.

Sullyoon removes those stained panties, while Minju still wears her skirt. The miniscule petite underwear wraps around her ankles while her dainty digits wrap around the hem of her skirt. At this point, your drool cannot be held back. You need to see her most private place.

“Let, let me do it!” Minju says with confidence and as if she’s as impatient as you are, pulls the skirt up and shuts her eyes. Sullyoon chuckles lightly and gets a hold of Minju’s hips, while you are about to dive into those wet folds, small and pink and definitely untouched. You notice a small strip of hair above her clit which looks like it should twitch at any moment. Minju’s visible arousal becomes your visible arousal and before you can end the teasing session and start a new session, Sullyoon interrupts you:

“Shouldn’t Minju undress me now?”

“Wha—oh… yeah, sure,” you respond and hold your horny horses. Minju looks a bit dazed when she drops the skirt and opens her eyes again. You help her gain focus by reaching for her hands and holding them. “Nothing to be ashamed of, Minju, you are perfect down there as well.”

“Re-really?”

“Yes, I’d never lie to the girls I love.

“Now, why don’t you help Sullyoon get out of those… tight jeans?”

Sullyoon smirks. Without you noticing it, she pulled her pants back up and made sure that they showed the outline of her shapely butt. She is a tease like no one before or after; fortunately, Minju seems to not get what teasing is about: with you still right beside her, she puts all her strength at pulling the denim down—the denim and Sullyoon’s panties.

“Eh, what are you—Minju!” Sullyoon complains loudly.

“So-sorry, did I do it wrong?”

“You, you were too fast!” The shyness returns to Sullyoon’s face as she buries it in the crook of her arm.

“No reason to fight,” you ease the flames of conflict burning before you. “I think Minju did a great job and your butt is great, Sullyoon.”

“No, don’t say that, it’s too big!”

“I’m gonna say it again.” You emphasize your words with a good squeeze on both her cheeks while Minju’s wide eyes are on the dumpy before her. “You have a fantastic butt, not too big, definitely not too small, perfect.”

Your kneading hands leave Sullyoon a mewling mess, speechless, even as Minju goes and undresses her further. It’s all a lot quicker, the top is removed easily, the bra falls with a simple click and Sullyoon is the first to be fully nude. She stops your continued handsy attacks on her ass with a spin around. Unlike Minju, her pussy is freshly shaven and her entire body looks like it was made just for this moment.

“Someone is prepared,” you say with a smile and drag a finger up her midriff to her tits which are nice handfuls of their own, similar in size and shape to Minju’s.

“You are mean,” Sullyoon pouts and suddenly starts to embrace you. You gasp. Her body is almost scorching hot. “I waited so long for this.”

“I bet you couldn’t look better. No dream, no imagination can make your body look any sexier.”

“Thank you, I’m glad you like it.”

The sound of someone crawling onto the bed gets your attention. Minju lays next to you, her skirt finally kicked away and she stretches her arms forward in search of your embrace. That poor girl is desperate, however, you don't make it to her before Sullyoon unzips your pants.

“It’s only fair if we get to see you too, right, Minju?” Sullyoon asks, her tone making it clear that the answer cannot differ from her needs.

“Should I strip for you too?” you say with a witty smile, but Minju comes to Sullyoon’s aid.

“Enough teases, I—I can barely think!”

The striptease must have set something in motion within Minju: her shyness is only apparent on her fully red cheeks, her hands have already taken a different path. Boldly, they yank down both your pants and briefs in strong pulls, past your erection, which comes back swinging at her. Minju dodges it, because she can’t stop looking at Sullyoon behind you, arms resting on your shoulder, lips suckling at your neck.

“So big!” Minju can’t hold back her shock and awe at the shape, the bend, the size.

“Yeah,” Sullyoon dreamily adds. “We really have to share him from now on.”

Things are out of control. Every further plan of slowly getting to your dream threesome scenario are useless, laughable, when both your new lovers shove you down into the mattress and somehow find space on and in between your legs to intently stare at and past your phallus. Minju and Sullyoon are often not on the same page, sometimes polar opposites in class, but tonight they are more than united.

While Minju is in awe at how you throb and seemingly still grow into the air, Sullyoon eagerly spits into her hand and slowly spreads her saliva on your shaft. The thoughtfulness, carefulness and softness of her fingers make every pump of hers fade into absurdity. Right from the get go, Sullyoon’s handjob is already on the level of jerking yourself off.

“Have you ever done this, Minju?”

“N-no, never. Not even close.”

“I—only have with not real dicks.” The two blush, but there is no need to intervene. Unlike in most classes, they are eager to study for themselves, learn new tricks and test them on you.

“How about you start down at his… sac, while I go from the top?” Sullyoon suggests and Minju nods. However, you still see hesitance in her eyes, probably because she is afraid of screwing things up or making it awkward.

“They are full for you, Minju,” you softly coo and brush her hair as she almost puts her lips on them. Okay, maybe she needs the tiniest of pushing to finally— “Put your lips on them, give them a kiss. Nothing to be afraid of.”

Sullyoon is definitely not afraid. She wraps her mouth around your cockhead and begins to twirl her tongue around it. The taste of your precum must have urged her on, because she hums happily and sucks loudly. It’s like your cock is the straw in her favorite drink, that's how aggressively she sucks and her eyes roll into the back of her head. Meanwhile Minju sneakily tries to find the best spot to wrap her lips around your crown jewels, her adorable expression unpurified when she decides to go for it.

“Oh fuck!” you groan and your body arches involuntarily. More of your manhood is pressed onto their faces, into their eagerly drooling holes; it makes you wonder if you even need their pussies if this already feels so heavenly. The eagerness and playfulness of Sullyoon paired with the gentleness and sweetness of Minju makes for a double blowjob that could drain you embarrassingly fast.

Something inside your stomach tells you to just release it. Let them suck, let them play, until you just release it all over them without worry in deep bliss. Before that happens, you have to get back at them. It would be quite the disappointing night if this was your only load and they wouldn’t have any stimulation until then. You have to come up with a plan, while Sullyoon pops you from her mouth with a deep moan.

“Minju, let’s switch,” she suggests. “He tastes really good, you have to try it. Don’t worry about the size, I couldn’t take it either.”

“Oh, okay, his, his balls are quite hard. Does this mean they are full?”

“Fuck, yes,” you interrupt their horny conversation, ready to announce your plan. A plan that will surely distract you and them to the point all of you will have the best of fun. “After you’ve switched, how about you turn your butts towards me? You’re doing a fantastic job, I want to return the favor.”

They lock eyes, then look at you and nod. Sullyoon has this grin on her lips, as if she can’t wait for your fingers and tongue on her labia. Minju, again, might look quite abashed, but she is quicker than Sullyoon when it comes to showing you her behind. The sight of her bare ass, tiny pink pussy and thighs spilling out of black stockings has you drooling, almost neglecting Sullyoon’s equally remarkable offer.

Sadly, you only have one tongue and so you dive into Minju’s cunt first. In what has to be the most mind-melting moment in her life, the beautiful girl sucks in your addictive taste while for the first time, someone touches her virgin sex. Minju moans around your length while you lick all the way from her clit to her asshole in long quick swipes. You watch her body tremble and decide to put an arm around it so she doesn’t sway away from your mouth, which digs into her sensitive folds.

Speaking of sensitive folds, your other hand has found more of those. Sullyoon’s innie, beautifully smooth, spills wetness forth and guides you to the well-lubricated entrance. You don’t even have to see anything to slip your middle finger inside her. Sullyoon gasps and nuzzles her soft cheek against your balls, while a little bit higher, Minju has lost all shame.

“Yummy, yummy,” she babbles every half second when your cock leaves her mouth. The two of you seem to share the same thought: These perverted fluids are delicious, I better get as much as I can.

In your mutual delight, Sullyoon momentarily rips you out of it, just to make things even better. She bunches up Minju’s hair in a hand and starts to put her lips on Minju’s. Their tongues battle, luckily your tip is there to separate them, though it does not want peace: it wants all out war.

For this brilliant idea, you decide to switch and bury your face in Sullyoon’s ass then quickly move to her cunt and pierce it open with your wet muscle, the same muscle Minju’s twitching hole misses. She has to finish on your hand, so you decide to twirl her exposed clit in between your fingers.

The greatest trio in the world's most renowned orchestra could not compare to the harmonies your different moans produce. They are unfiltered, not played for a camera, not exaggerated—but still so loud, booming, climactic, when Sullyoon shutters. Her juices gush into your mouth, more when she leans back and presses her pussy on your face.

Minju follows quickly, almost sitting on and riding your hand as it lays there, fingers tapping upwards, against her nub. Her orgasm is not as wet, but you feel the bed shake when she cums and seemingly goes to another reality. You’re glad she physically stays, her tongue still eager at your slit—and Sullyoon is on the other side, making out with her and your cockhead.

You're incredibly hard, an iron-like rod, a tip that is purple and sensitive yet absolutely numb and only begging for what might as well be the best and final release. The thought of this ever happening again does not cross your mind, a void of nothing but pleasure. You have to give it your all now and so you buckle upwards in between their sandwiching lips and explode without warning.

“Fuuuck,” Sullyoon groans. Minju yelps, a high pitch as she still rides out her own orgasm on your palm. Your first is bombastic, a shot up in the air that rains down on their faces while the rest is equally distributed on their tender cheeks, silky lips, hot tongues. No need to mention that a lot ends up in places where the clean up will be more annoying: hair, bedsheets, even clothes have stains of white on them.

Who cares, really? Not Minju, who still laps up what leaks out of your aching, overstimulated cock. Not Sullyoon, who is out of breath and uses your thigh as a pillow. Certainly not you who literally passed out for a second and only returns because Minju sucks too strongly.

“Ouch, fuck, Min-Minju it hurts—”

“You tasht sho good, I want more.”

“Then, ahhh, get it from Sullyoon’s face, I-I don’t have anything anymore.”

Minju listens and obidies, unable to remember her shy nature when she sucks on Sullyoon’s skin to get all of your spunk off of her. Sullyoon is unfazed, mewling a bit before finding your gaze. She smirks and suddenly, the tip of her index finger touches your balls.

“You're lying,” she whispers. “You have at least one more in you.”

“I-I don’t think so.” Shake your head to emphasize your words, but Sullyoon emphasizes her belief more thoroughly by pumping from your base up. Slow strokes to keep the pressure in it, she makes sure to keep her mouth a literal breath away, a hot breath that takes your breath away. Your eyelids shutter.

“Are you sure he can keep going?” Minju cutely asks, the final remnants of cum she collected from Sullyoon’s forehead on her finger which she promptly puts in her mouth and cleans thoroughly. “I could really go for another.”

“Don’t you want him to take your virginity?” Sullyoon’s question somehow has the blush return to Minju’s ears, she turns around abashed. It’s unbelievable: a second ago, she was the biggest cumslut, now she is afraid of what feels like a logical next step if it weren’t for…

“We can’t, Sully,” you say and reach for both their heads and pat them. “Not going to do it if we don’t have condoms, and maybe we should take some time? This is all a bit—”

“Crazy?” Sullyoon climbs off the bed and searches through her backpack, to the confusion of both you and Minju. It takes her a while to find what she is looking for, so you enjoy seeing her ass in the squatting position. “Is it crazy that I have these?”

She throws you a pack of condoms. You blink.

“Is it crazy that I want you to take my virginity tonight?” Sullyoon sneaks back like a predator, adorable looking, dangerously feeling up your thigh to your once again hard length. You don’t let her have her way, grab her wrists and look at Minju.

“You are crazy. Look in whose bed we are! Minju, what do—”

“I-I’m fine with it!” Minju cups her cheeks and her gaze can’t fix on either your or Sullyoon’s face. “I can give you privacy, if you want.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sullyoon laughs. “You should join us. I’d let you go first, if you want.” She licks her lips and even with her arms being held down by you, she gets her flat tummy to rub on your manhood, close to her heat which you can no longer resist.

“I’ll get some water, you… do you.” Minju’s words are hastily spoken, her sentence finished when she is already out of the door. This settles it for you. You’re going to fuck Sullyoon; her first time is yours and the way she rips open the wrapping of the first condom leaves no doubt in your mind:

This girl loves you and wants you now.

“How do you want it?” you ask and roll the thin, barely-there rubber down your cock.

“I want you to push in me, push my body into the bed, slowly at first. Be careful until I tell you to go faster. Fuck me, hug me, do it so good and hard that I forget that there was ever a time where you didn’t love me.”

“Sounds—

Let go of her wrists and Sullyoon lets her amazing body fall into the cushions. Her lewd expression shifts; nervousness, only a little, seriousness, a little more—thrill, endless amounts of thrill. The same counts for you.

“—good. Spread your legs for me, Sullyoon. Breathe and relax.”

Those wonderful legs not only spread for you, they actually wrap around you, their smoothness suddenly suffocating and now it’s you who needs to breathe. Your cock slips into her so easily, your tip parts her, enters and if it weren’t for her wince you would’ve gone hilt deep right away. Sullyoon’s eagerness momentarily comes to a halt as she realizes that you are a bit different from her toys.

“Wow,” she mumbles mindlessly. “You’re so wide and hard and warm—nothing like a… a…”

“Like a dildo?” you tease her and gradually drag your tip along her walls and then out of the blissful heat. Her legs make sure to push you back in and now she is even tighter. Sullyoon wants you to stay, you can’t leave without your permission. “Tell me when it hurts.”

“Actually—”

Her digits find your nape and pull you down to where her lips pucker.

“—I want you to hammer your cock into me now. Mold my pussy in its shape. Hold back only if I say stop.”

“Got it.” Kiss her lips. “I love you, Sully.”

Sometimes, you need to let go and let the reckless abandon of lust take over your body. Your hips become a tool for pleasure, as they gyrate, then move back and forth to bury your length deeper in Sullyoon’s cunt. Then you copy and paste their movements and repeatedly do them with your tongue as well to the point your new girlfriend desperately clings to you. It’s not only the sweat that sticks to you; her entire being keeps you glued down.

You pump, pump, pump into Sullyoon until you notice her eyes rolling back into her head whenever you hit that spot. The sweet spot that will eventually make her cum. Good thing that you already blew a load and that all your sensitivity has subsided—it gives you the power that makes you feel like a superhero, a superhuman. You will not stop at anything, you want to make her cum with just your dick and so you have to fuck harder.

“Oh God, you’re so big, so fucking big and perfect,” Sullyoon moans. As a thank you, you place a hickey somewhere on her neck. In hindsight, a bad idea. All your classmates will see it, unless she wears turtlenecks from now on. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, you’re so good.”

“Your pussy, Sully, it’s, it’s so tight. You’re choking me.”

“Spread me open more then, fuck, fuck, I want you to make me full.”

Hidden from the world, you place a hand on Sullyoon’s abdomen. Not to touch that tummy that alone can make boys fall instantly, though it feels nice to rub your fingers across it—no, your goal is further down, right above where your cock pounds into that wet cunt. Talk about wet, Sullyoon’s juices have spread everywhere, Minju will smell her friend in this room for days to come.

And talk about Minju: she has just returned, a huge bottle of water in her hand and eyes wide open. There is no shock at the sight of Sullyoon moaning and bending under the never ending attack of your hands, tongue and of course cock. Minju is more fascinated than anything else, you know she could watch for hours if only you didn’t notice her.

“Oh, hey,” you gasp in between groans, but your greeting is cut short by Sullyoon’s deafening scream.

“Minju, Minju, oh fuck, you have to try this. He is so good~

“Yes! My clit, right there! Oh my God, I’m going to cum, you make me c-cum!”

Sullyoon pulsates throughout her pussy, her arms, her fingers. Those pointy nails of hers dig painful bruises in your back while your blurry gaze tries to make out her face in haze, but all you see is the shape of her mouth being agape. She’s suddenly so quiet, except for her pussy, which tries to start your own orgasm. You won’t give it to her, not when Minju stands there, her stocking-clad thighs rubbing together, visibly stained with her nectar.

“You guys…” she whispers and watches closely as you pull out of Sullyoon and wipe away some beads of sweat that have formed on your temple. You’re not a construction worker, but your work was hard and it paid off: Sullyoon could not be closer to heaven above the clouds, no skyscraper or airplane can take her there.

“Can I have some of that?” you weakly ask and point at the water bottle. You’re quick to squeeze out a huge portion when Minju hands you the plastic container. From the corner of your eye you see Sullyoon, back from her crazy trip and you offer her some of the water. She rejects and suddenly, full of energy, jumps up and behind Minju.

“Minju, you have to try it.” Minju shrieks when Sullyoon places her hands on the hourglass body. “He feels amazing, I know you will love it.” All her fingers carelessly drift down to where Minju’s full thighs spill out of hr black thigh-highs.

“B-but didn’t he, like, fi-finish in you? He must be exhausted.” Minju’s excuse is met with a scoff from Sullyoon.

“Look at that thing.” Sullyoon points in between your legs. That’s right, you’re still solid and throbbing, aching to go for more. “He is a stud, he can go forever. He will make you cum on your first time, Minju~”

“I-I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to listen to her,” you tell Minju and take another sip from the bottle. “We can do something else if you don’t feel ready yet.”

Your words might be honest, but Minju does not get a fair chance to consider this other option. In front of her sits her crush, a guy with a big, super tasty cock. Behind her is a friend, mind controlled by lust, eager to share this big, super tasty cock. The sight of you teases her, Sullyoon’s hands on her hips, butt, crotch tease her. Can she really go for it now? Make this crazy night become nothing but madness, a story worth telling but no one will ever hear it?

“I want… you inside of me.”

“Perf—”

“I want you to cum inside of me!”

You gulp, thoughts tripping over each other. Even Sullyoon is perplexed and frozen. “R-really?” you both ask the still-virgin girl.

“No, like, in-in a condom of course! I just want to know… that my pussy felt good for you, that I can make you cum. I don’t want to get pregnant yet of course—oh God, did you think that?”

“Well…”

“Doesn’t matter!” Sullyoon suddenly laughs this chaotic misunderstanding off and pushes Minju on your lap. “Here, Minju, put a new condom on his cock. We don’t do creampies, but I totally get what you want.”

“I’m so sorry, that was a stupid thing to say,” Minju apologizes awkwardly, but you quickly forget about it when she expertly puts the rubber on your tip and has your entire phallus covered in no time. Her dainty fingers feel fantastic on your base, which she holds steady, awaiting you to do something with it. You can’t make up your mind however: should you pick her up and throw her into the sheets to fuck her like Sullyoon? Maybe spin her around and fuck her doggy, ass up, that beautiful face buried in pillows as you burry yourself inside her for the first time?

Sullyoon helps you come up with a third solution. She grabs your wrists and firmly puts them on Minju’s tiny waist and instinctively, you lift her up and over your cock. Minju looks down at your manhood and mewls, ready yet not ready to take it. Her starlit eyes, a few centimeters away, look down into yours and you swear you don’t want to hurt. You have to do everything to make this the best thing for her.

Give Minju a firm kiss on her trembling lips as both you and Sullyoon gently place her entrance on your spear. At first, she is scared, her body tensing up, but with your warmth radiating on her warm folds, she suddenly seems eager. More and more inches disappear into her and you leave her lips to hear her ultimate moan when her virginity disappears.

“Ouh, so big, so much, ahhh!”

“Does it hurt?” you ask her.

“A-a bit, but it’s fine—Sullyoon, what are you doing!? Don’t look at it!”

Sullyoon kneels between your legs. When she breathes out through her nose, your balls feel her hot and horny breath. She completely ignores Minju’s words and stares at how you leave and re-enter Minju’s pussy. “Minju, this… this is the best sight! Trust me, it feels good when he goes faster. Your pussy will feel so good.”

“This is embarrassing,” Minju mewls again, her hips firmly pushed down on your lap, almost the entirety of your cock inside her. You might not feel powerless in this position, not at all in fact, but you want this absolute beauty of a woman to do how she likes it. If she just wants to sit on you and slowly move her lower body in circles, that’s fine, if she wants to ride you with heavy thrusts, that would be to die for—

But Minju unexpectedly picks a third option. Seriously, these girls are full of surprises. She puts her hands on your shoulders while yours instinctively hover down to her hips and then she tightens around your cock again before moving up and down, up and down, up and down with perfect body control, at the same pace.

Minju rides you, fucks you, like she has done it a thousand times. You can hardly believe she never had a toy inside her. Every breath becomes more chaotic, her features disheveled, her tongue numb. It hangs out of her mouth, a perfectly ripe weak spot for you to attack. You suck on it, bully it in your mouth and Minju grabs your throat, accidentally choking you. No, no, she has to keep doing that. She has to suffocate you, with her pussy, with her fingers, with her stunning visuals as she fucks herself silly.

“Sullyoon, fuck,” you both simultaneously curse when the forgotten girl starts to lick all the way from your perineum over to your cock and Minju’s folds to Minju’s butthole, then back down, as if it were the longest, tastiest lollipop. She is not irritated by all the sweat, the lewd juices and Minju’s ass bouncing on your dick—Sullyoon laps it all up and even giggles when she hears both of you struggle with the added pleasure.

Minju gradually loses speed, which is of course not bad, after all, her cunt still tries to suck your Sullyoon-kissed balls dry, but you notice how completely out of breath and overstimulated she seems. With unfocused puppy eyes she tries to apologize for her lack of stamina, but instead of lamenting, you find a quick solution—a solution that sends Minju straight into her first ever crazy orgasm.

Hock your arms underneath her legs, securely hold her and stand up. Sullyoon gasps in surprise, her tongue still in Minju’s ass, which suddenly shakes when you start to fuck. Minju screams in bliss, covers your crotch in girl cum as you lose your grip on reality but never your grip on her hips. Minju can barely hold onto your nape as you pound her and send orgasm after orgasm into her.

“Ahhh, oh my God, it’s, it’s coming again!”

She deserves so many more so you steady your feet and thrust upwards harder, faster, gape her cunt wide open, all for Sullyoon to see. She remembers that you speared her open in a similar way, your cock hard and reckless. She starts to touch herself while sucking on whatever part of your base isn’t currently inside Minju. In the meantime, Minju’s stockings burn themselves in your memory. She always has to wear them, they look so hot, seductive, like they were made to cover her legs.

“So big, too much, too much, I—”

Minju explodes again. This time her ability to speak is replaced by mindless moans, which sound a bit silly through her constantly cracking voice. You look down and admire the ripple of her thighs, the way her small tits bounce up and down. Her hot cunt feels ready for a load, a load it will not directly receive unfortunately.

Unfortunately? No, it’s good! You can’t risk getting Minju pregnant, that would be insane.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you groan.

“Let me help you~” Sullyoon’s lewd voice and even lewder lips push you over the edge as she puts your balls in her mouth and sucks on them loudly. The added pressure makes you unload into the condom, testing its durability. Luckily it passes the test and Minju still gets to have that feeling of hotness inside her.

She smiles weakly, but cannot really react. Her body goes limp in your arms as you slip out of her wide open hole. You carefully drop her onto the bed, a bed that you definitely need too now. Soft sheets to finally rest in after this night of projects and—other projects so to say.

“Fuck that was insane. What’s going to happen now?” you ask no one in particular. Minju is already gone, deep in a dream.

“What do you think?” Sullyoon suddenly says and lays next to you in bed, her fingers pulling away the condom. When she sees the ridiculous amount of cum still covering your dick, she is quick to clean it up with her tongue. It seems that she is just as addicted to your taste as Minju.

“Fuck, Sully—”

“We have to do this every week.”

“Wh-what?”

“Aren’t we your girlfriends now? Don’t you want this—

“To happen again~?”

Yes, they are your girlfriends now—and yes: you have fallen for them.

Who could blame you?

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹｡ keep this drive to just us two | fushiguro megumi

wc: 2.7k

summary: megumi is a liar, but there’s a reason for all this.  

contains: f!reader in mind but can be read as gn!, college!megumi, pre-relationship stuff, feelings, some swear words

a/n: happy birthday to our boy ♡ set in the same universe as this megumi fic (so a ~kind of part 2); some songs that inspired this & ones i imagine playing in the car: the shining by the neighbourhood, paradise by chase atlantic, & over the moon by the marías

part: 1 | 2 | 3 series m.list: by your passenger seat

It’s just you and Megumi on a late night drive—a quarter past 11 p.m.

The passenger seat has long since been adjusted to you, his car a somewhat second home. There’s that characteristic reverb accompanying the deep bass of the music he listens to, and his knee is bobbing to the beat of it, like it always does when the music is good. 

Megumi’s car always smells of mint, a fresh, crisp scent that cuts through—an accurate depiction of the man: level-headed, cool. A sharp honesty exists in every word he speaks; it’s the only way he knows how to be.

Except, maybe, lately. Like this moment.

Megumi’s a liar right now. 

He feels a little guilty for it, tricking you into coming out tonight. But how bad can it be to invite you under the guise of it being from Yuuji? 

“Yuuji said he’ll meet us there?” you settle into your seat, dragging the seatbelt across your body before locking it into place. 

Megumi shifts the gear to drive, nodding as he turns the wheel to get out of the parking lane. He can’t trust himself to speak. 

The ride is quiet save for the music, a comfortable silence he seems to only have with you. Nobara and Yuuji like to talk, to fill in the empty pockets of air he never feels the need to. You—you adjust, read the room; you become what the situation calls for all on your own. 

That’s what he likes about you, among many other things—he’s stopped lying to himself about that, at least. 

The streets whiz past you in a blur, both vaguely familiar and unrecognizable. There’s a fast food joint your group of four frequents as a post-party drive-thru, and the holiday lights are strung up on lampposts lining the sidewalks. 

Yellows, reds, and greens melt into one another as the backdrop of your window. But all Megumi sees is gray—

When he dislodges his phone from the stand clipped to the AC vents at the center console, handing it over so you can control the music. His eyes stay locked on the road until he feels it, the slightest brush of your fingers against his.

He turns to you, a quick glance; you’d shrugged off your puffer jacket some time during the drive and tossed it to the backseat, leaving you in this right now.

—the gray sweater that he knows all too well; that you haven’t returned but you wear like it’s yours, as if this piece of him is something you’ve chosen to keep. 

It looks better on you, anyway, he thinks.

He turns back to the road, breathing a little quicker, grip tighter and knuckles a bit whiter. 

If he listens carefully, the comfortable silence between you hasn’t actually been all that silent lately. A constant beat’s been drumming in his ears, exacerbated only every time you’re near. You’ve locked eyes far too often for two people sitting in a car, driving from point A to point B, and this isn’t the first time your fingers have brushed, nor is it the second, or third (or even fourth if he’s thinking about the technicalities). 

He finds himself smiling too easily when you speak, the corners of his lips aching by the time he’s dropped you off on the way home. You’ve looked at him fondly too, a handful of times, when you think he won’t notice; but it’s impossible not to when he’s paying just as much attention—from the corner of his eye, in his periphery. A responsible side-glance that inconspicuously catches everything. 

There’s something between you two, and he’s grown more confident of that the more he’s accepted his fate:

He likes you.

It’s why he called you tonight, out of all nights, in the first place. 

Aimless driving can only be so convincing up to a certain point, and that point comes fast approaching as Megumi is about to pass the same street for the third time. You don’t notice because you’re queueing songs on his phone, but he has to think of a diversion—just something to tide him over past midnight. 

“I’ll get us some snacks,” he signals to the left, pulling over to a 7-Eleven. 

“Oh!” you look up from his phone, swapping it for yours, “I’ll ask Yuuji if he wants anything. Did he mention if Nobara’s coming?” 

Megumi freezes, panic setting in—if you message Yuuji now, you’ll realize that he’s been lying. He holds his breath, shifting the gear to park before pulling at the edges of his sleeves.

Think. 

“He’ll eat anything, it’s fine. Nobara probably won’t come too. Wouldn’t pick up when he called.” 

For someone who always puts things bluntly, he’s surprisingly good at coming up with lies right now. 

You hum, nodding, “Okay. Do you want me to go down?” 

“I’ll be quick,” he shakes his head, fishing around the center console for his wallet, “you want anything?” 

Then he looks at you, your head tilted to the side as you think. A little pout causes your lips to jut out and he can’t help it, how his eyes fall to them, shiny in the way only your lip balm can make them. 

“Maybe something warm?” 

Your voice snaps him out of it, but the moment is frozen—like he’s been caught red-handed. He’s so sure you saw him staring, your eyebrows shooting up, flustered while watching his gaze shift from your lips to your eyes. 

He doesn’t expect it when you do the same thing. 

It’s freezing outside and his lips feel chapped; he wonders if they’re cracked, if you’re studying the grooves of split skin—if he should buy lip balm by the counter, on the way out. 

He looks away, clearing his throat, one hand to the door handle. 

“Okay,” he opens it, “turn up the heat if you’re–”

You nod.

“Yeah, okay.” 

He steps out. 

The cold is biting as he tucks his hands inside his pockets, rushing to get into the convenience store. 

(You watch his back retreat from the window of his carseat, and the influx of cool air should make you shiver, but you feel warm, heat rushing to your cheeks. 

This whole night has been confusing; the subtle touches and lingering gazes—ones like just moments ago, especially. Being alone with Megumi lately has been both comfortable and nerve-wracking; you have feelings that you aren’t quite sure are reciprocated, no matter how much Nobara teases the both of you already. 

You can’t take it; you need a buffer—where is Yuuji? 

11:41 p.m. 

< are you otw already? we just went to grab some snacks

You wait, fingers tapping on the back of your phone. 

11:42 p.m. 

yuuji 🍡

> huh?

> otw where? 

> who’s we?

> i’m outside fushiguro’s rn! with gojo-sensei!! apparently he surprises him every bday…

> you should come! you live near right?

You scrunch your eyebrows, confused. There are too many thoughts in your head right now—has Megumi been lying? 

11:43 p.m.

< oh ok, i probs misunderstood!!

< and i’m out tonight, idt i can make it but lmk how it goes!!

You’ve never known Megumi to be a liar, but he’s definitely in it right now for some questioning.)

The 7-Eleven doors swing open, revealing Megumi with his shoulders shrugged up to his ears, hands deep inside his pockets as a plastic bag hangs around his wrist. He opens the car door, immediately settling in his seat before shutting it. 

He still won’t meet your eyes, fishing through the random snacks he bought instead. It’s awkward, the air in the car tense; and it takes the biggest guts in him to look up as he hands over the warm bottle of tea he got you, just like you wanted. 

It’s even worse when you’re staring right back, expecting—almost like you’re about to confront him. 

“Be honest,” you start, eyes squinting. 

Shit. Sweat forms at his palms as he blinks, the beat drumming in his ears intensifying. 

“Did you bring me out here to murder me?” 

He raises an eyebrow, expecting you to convict him for lying, “The fu–”

Which you do, bringing your phone up so he can read. Your text chain with Yuuji casts a white light over his face, his eyes darting from side-to-side as he scans each message. 

(You aren’t mad or anything, just even more confused than you already are; some clarity would be nice, once and for all. 

Embarrassment is painted on his face the more he reads through your phone screen, lashes entirely too long as it bats against the tip of his cheeks; a faint pink blooms on his skin, like winter peonies.) 

There’s a reason for all this. 

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath; he’s dreading having to open them—do you think he’s weird now? That he had some ulterior motive bringing you out? His jaw clenches at the thought—

But then you laugh, a soft chuckle that accompanies the ‘click’ of your phone turning off. And when he takes a peek, squints one eye to catch a glimpse, you’re smiling; your lips are pressed together with the corners curled up slightly, as if you find this entire thing funny. 

The tension dissipates, but he frowns, eyebrows scrunching as he considers whether he wants to be the reason for whatever it is you’re thinking. 

“Stop it. Don’t make fun of me.” his head turns to the side. 

You chuckle again, biting your bottom lip, “You’re just too cute.”

A beat.

(It slips out before you can catch yourself, heat rising to your cheeks. Megumi isn’t doing any better; his ears are flushed red, crawling down to the sides of his neck as he swallows.) 

The plastic bag crinkles on his lap, cutting through the silence. 

How can you just… say that? 

You clear your throat, “So, uh, did you know about the surprise?” 

(Your eyes shift to the corner of the infotainment system, 11:52 p.m. in white.)

He sighs, running a hand through his hair as he leans back on his seat. 

“Gojo-sensei tries to surprise me every year, I didn’t think he’d call Itadori this time.” 

“You sound like that’s a bad thing…” you tilt your head, curious. 

He pauses, staring ahead as he considers his response, “Not bad… just,” his fingers fiddle with the plastic bag, “too loud, sometimes.”

(Megumi’s mentioned a bit about this ‘Gojo-sensei’ guy, his kind-of-mentor slash benefactor since being orphaned with his step-sister at age 6. You’ve never met him, but Yuuji never stops talking about how fun he is, how cool. 

It makes sense why Megumi finds him a bit much, if anything.)

“And you think I’m any better?” you snort offhandedly, joking as you turn to the side, facing him. 

He tilts his head towards you, leaning back on the headrest; your eyes lock for a moment, the corner of his mouth lifting subtly before he looks away, straight ahead again. 

If he had the courage, he’d tell you that you’re the only company he wants to spend this birthday with—

That there are songs in his playlist he’d otherwise never listen to, but repeats and repeats and repeats because it reminds him of you;

That he looks forward to doing deep cleans on his car every weekend, but has started to dread it once he noticed that it washes away your scent from the Fridays that he drops you home; 

That he’s a liar because he really likes you, but can’t find the words to tell you.

So he doesn’t say anything, shrugging. 

The silence is telling. 

(You feel too warm, whether from the heating system or from the implications of this moment. The 11:58 p.m. on the clock adds a pressure that it shouldn’t, an almost taunting presence that tells you if you act now, tomorrow could be very different. 

Are you reading the signs right? 

Should you just say it? 

Each second drags on twice as long, and you think—

Fuck it.) 

“Megumi?” your voice breaks through softly. 

The plastic crinkles on his lap as he turns to you. 

He could be any other place right now.

But he’s chosen to be here, with you, parked outside a 7-Eleven, minutes before midnight. 

“If I tell you something, will you be honest with me?” 

He blinks before humming, nodding. This is the least he can do after today’s blatant lying. 

There’s an intensity to your gaze that makes him nervous; your fingers tug at the edges of his (your) gray sweater, a piece of him you’ve taken with you. Then you speak—

“I like you,” you say it plainly, unblinking, “and I need you to tell me if you don’t feel the same.” 

—and you take the rest of him too. 

12:01 a.m.

He stares at you, turning the confession over and over in his head. He’s always had a feeling but it’s different when it’s out in the open, when it’s from you and isn’t based on some gut-feeling. 

There are so many things he can say, but you did ask him to be honest—to tell you if he didn’t feel the same. 

“Do I stay quiet if I do?” he mumbles, cheeks deepening into red. 

There’s a smile he’s trying to hide, one he won’t allow himself to let out until he gets one from you too. 

You visibly relax, releasing the breath you were holding. Your lips curl up instinctively, wide and infectious—that feeling of your heart bursting. 

“Smartass,” you scrunch your nose before glancing at the time, “happy birthday.” 

When you look at him this fondly, there’s not much else he can ask for, really. 

.

You eat the snacks in his car (an exception—whether it’s because of you or his birthday, you’re not sure) and tell him that your actual gift is back home, sitting in dog-patterned wrapping paper by your entryway. 

The drive back is, for the most part, the same—lingering gazes when the stoplight permits, a brush of your fingers when you hand him his phone after queueing songs. You’re wearing his sweater and his car still smells like mint. 

But you both can’t stop smiling. 

And when he drops you off, he’s tempted to tell you to stay longer for just one more song, but he figures there’s lots of time for that now. So instead, he grabs your puffer from the back, gets down and rushes over to open your door, helping you out. 

He holds up your jacket as you slip your arms into it, zipping it up so you stay warm and toasty. Cute, he thinks, when your grin reaches your cheeks; he could pinch them, would you complain if his fingers are too chilly? 

Your hesitance is evident in the way you bite your lip, but you go for it anyway, diving in to land a soft kiss to his cheek. It happens so quickly, it barely registers to him—the touch of your lips to his skin. When you pull away, you look shy.

He doesn’t say anything, heat rushing to the place you’d kissed. You take this as a sign to go ahead, so you move, but he can’t—

—can’t let you go just like this. 

Not when he’s been thinking about those lips since he last laid his eyes on it. 

It’s reflex, the way he grabs your wrist, pulling you back to him. He lets go immediately, hovering, but his eyes drop dangerously, down to your lips—shiny and plump from the lip balm he knows you carry. 

His breathing quickens and he asks so softly, “Can…”, he gulps, nervous, “Can I?” 

You nod, humming. 

(When Megumi leans in, long lashes fluttering over your eyelids, you think, this can’t possibly be real. But then his lips slide over yours, cold but not cracked, and you move yours against them, gentle in the same way he is.

His fingers slot themselves at the edge of your jaw, palm pressed to your cheek; it makes you shiver, how cool it is, but it warms up quickly.) 

The kiss is over far too soon (you think so, too), and when you part, you’re beaming, a twinkle in your eyes that makes him want to kiss you again, if only to keep them shining the way they do. 

It’s the end of the night, but the beginning of something new and Megumi’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the noise; this constant beat drumming in his ear is all he can hear now, swiping his tongue over his lips to taste mint—your lip balm of choice.

thank you note: to everyone who was just as excited abt this as i was—@soumies @mysugu @augustinewrites @mididoodles @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat @selarina @pastelle-rabbit @mymegumi @kagelun @irisintheafterglow & @shidouryusm for making me see that paradise is so megumi 🥺

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[livwritesstuff]

for @steddie-week day 5 | exes to lovers

fully and completely inspired by @emchant3d's divorced dad's post [x] from a few weeks ago bc i did not once stop thinking abt it

tags: modern day, artist!eddie, finance guy!steve, steddie as rich gay divorcees, sort of an accidental parent trap situation

They were too young, Steve thinks in retrospect – married at twenty-three, their daughter born when they were twenty-five, and then divorced before his twenty-seventh birthday.

He gets to think retrospectively because in a few years it’ll be a full decade since the papers for that last bit got signed. Now, Steve is thirty-four and sweating his ass off in a red polo and crisp jeans, the stiflingly hot July sun beating down on him as he scans the perimeter of a crowded playground for a familiar head of curly brown hair – not his nine-year-old. He found Rosalind already, wreaking havoc on the jungle gym. No, he’s looking for his ex (-husband, technically, but Steve usually stops at ex; the -husband part just makes him sad these days).

It’s custody swap day, which is either his favorite or least favorite day of the week depending on who the swap is favoring.

Today it’s favoring him which is why he’s slowly making his way around the edge of a playground in Bushwick, keeping an eye out for his ex, Eddie.

“Steve,” he hears from somewhere behind him. Steve turns towards the sound and sees not that curly head of hair he’d expected. Eddie’s hair is completely buzzed (which, for the record, was not the case last week when Steve dropped Rozzy off with him) and he’s wearing a paint-splattered white t-shirt tucked into old jeans and all that combined is making it reeeally hard for Steve to pretend he’s not crushing hard on the guy he divorced eight years ago.

“Dude,” Steve started, eyeing Eddie’s hair (or lack thereof) as he made his way to the section of fence that Eddie was occupying, “What–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie rolled his eyes, “Rozzy already hit me with all the good zingers so you’re too late.”

“No, I don’t –” Steve stopped, “It’s…not a bad look, just…you know. Why the change?”

Eddie looked away.

“Long story,” he replied as Steve remembered (yet again) that he doesn’t get full access to Eddie’s world the way he used to.

Luckily for Steve, Rozzy runs up to them and spares him from having to figure out a response for that.

“We should get pizza,” she says. Steve’s eyebrows fly up.

“We should get pizza?” he repeats.

“Please,” she adds, her eyes shining, “At Dad’s? And we play Mario Kart? Dad said I’m getting good at 200!”

“He said that?” Steve asked, and he glances over Rosalind's head to see that Eddie is making a so-so gesture with his hand.

He’s never been all that good at saying no to his daughter (or anyone), so it doesn’t take much more convincing on Rozzy’s part for the three of them to head off in the direction of Eddie’s loft, with a pitstop planned for the pizza shop down the block.

They actually have a nice time.

It’s true that Rozzy is getting better at 200cc – good might be a bit generous, but Steve’s fine with that (he doesn’t know if his ego could handle getting crushed by a fourth-grader).

Just as they’re finishing their second grand prix (the Star Cup, because Rozzy likes the dolphin race), one of the other kids in the building knocks on the door and invites Rozzy over for a sleepover, which Steve agrees to because he remembers the illicit kind of joy in a summertime Monday night sleepover.

Eddie doesn't show Steve the door after Rozzy's gone. Rather, he pulls a bottle of wine from the fridge – an expensive Sémillon he says was given to him by a client.

“So the art biz is still going well, I assume,” Steve comments as Eddie pulls two vintage wine glasses out of a cabinet and pours them each a healthy serving.

Conversation about work manages to sustain them through the first few glasses (Eddie actually remembered that it’s been just over a year since Steve left his dad’s Fortune 1000 for a CFO position at a marketing company that had just graduated from small to midsize status). They work through the second quarter of the bottle talking about Rozzy, and the third vanishes even quicker while Steve spills some of the latest Harrington family drama.

While Eddie is updating him on how Wayne is doing, Steve finds that he isn’t really listening, distracted in the way he can’t help but notice how Eddie’s paint-stained t-shirt is actually more like an undershirt, and a size too small for him, the torso and sleeves tight around lean muscle, and there’s a thin silver chain around his neck and a scruff of facial hair around his jaw, and –

Steve doesn’t immediately realize when Eddie stopped talking. When he does, when his eyes finally unstick themselves from the buzzcut and drop back down to Eddie’s, he sees that Eddie is staring at him too.

Eddie’s tongue darts out to wet his lip.

“Ask me again why I buzzed my hair,” he tells him.

“Why’d you buzz your hair,” Steve asks, because he’s obedient like that (and because he really does want to know).

“Steve–” Eddie stops, a giggly, wine-induced hiccup of a laugh slipping out before he shakes his head, “An entire can of paint tipped ov–” He cuts himself off with another half-hysterical laugh, barely managing to say, “Spilled on my head,” before he was completely doubled over, and Steve is laughing too because he can totally picture it and because he had a bit more wine than he planned to and this is honestly the first time that he and Eddie have hung out without their daughter in…Steve doesn’t even know how long.

“Steve,” Eddie says again when they finally both recover, and his tone is completely different this time around and there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that wasn’t there before and something is happening, something is happening, “Please don’t kill me for saying this, but…fuck, it’s really kinda pathetic how badly I still want it to be you and me.”

Steve thinks he tries to respond, but then he was too busy kissing Eddie to do anything else, too busy scraping fingernails over Eddie’s scalp, too busy choking back a moan as Eddie sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, too busy tugging Eddie’s shirt out of his waistband to shove a hand up underneath and finding that he’s built more solidly than Steve remembers from the last time they touched like this, but something is telling him that’s true about Eddie – true about himself too – in more ways than one.

And if Rosalind comes home the next morning ready to ask how she’s getting back to Daddy’s house only to find that he’s already there, stealing Dad’s mug out of his hand for a sip of coffee when his own is right there…that’s a conversation for another day.

part 2

[celestialtarot11]

Astrology Observations 🧎‍♂️‼️

Hi friends! Today we’re just doing a general post for the astrological signs 🤭✨ Please enjoy and share! Your feedback is always appreciated.

Earth sign energy is heavy and dark, not negative, but they are very connected to their roots, ancestors and past lives. They carry lots of baggage from the past to heal in this lifetime, and thus may feel they lived through many timelines and cycles. They can feel similarly to Scorpio that experienced tons of transformations.

Libra moons can be indecisive in relationships, not because they have a bad sign placement but because they care a lot about people’s feelings. Sometimes too much to their detriment. They’d rather keep the peace than to rock the boat, but that’s what causes tension. Libra moons just need more confidence and security in their choices, and focus on themselves 🧘

Cancer Venus from a young age experienced misunderstandings from the people around them. Cancer venus wants a close community and people who understand their emotions, but in an emotionally unavailable society they can feel neglected and lonely. Its why cancer venus develops walls to protect their heart. They still care, but it takes them a long time to open up.

Virgos remember little details of everyone and hope they can do the same for them. They essentially give what they need and Virgos need attention and someone who creates quality time.

Gemini venus crave communication and mental stimulation in their connections. They love to learn and interact with people. Gemini Venus can also experience lots of isolation or periods of alone time because they aren’t finding the right people to connect to. They’d rather be alone than to have surface level interaction and filler conversations.

Leo + Aquarius pairing in a chart can indicate the native is truly unique and unforgettable. They strive so much to be themselves that it inspires others to do so. Some may even idolize the native, and others can get jealous because the native has qualities they wish they had. The native basically inspires others to get a personality 💅🏻

Mercury 8h can be so funny. We can get picky about what personal info to leave in the outside world. Even the idea of leaving behind our birthday info can irk us 😭 why? I think being in the spotlight or being perceived can be difficult for us.

Adding onto that, mercury 8h can channel spirits, occult knowledge, spirit guides, etc. when they tap in, they TAP in. They did not come to play 😍 All they need is a good meditation sesh and they’re good to go 🧘 all powered up.

Jupiter 8h can go through so many endings and terrible situations and still somehow come out stronger and better. They take their healing and growth seriously, and I think Jupiter 8h people have big hearts, so they always reconnect with that energy which is what carries them 😤

Cancer + Leo in a chart makes someone mystical, ethereal, private, yet somehow well known. There will always be an aspect to these natives to hide to protect themselves, and yet their Leo side will try to guide them out their comfort zone.

Aries rising females always knew who they were since birth 🤭 they could’ve photographed a lot, dressed up a lot, and it’s iconic. Since birth they knew! Aries rising females can be human rights activists too, because they have strong opinions, perspectives and believe in empowerment. Aries rising females may also be into modeling, because since a young age they were surrounded by cameras and people who thought they were beautiful ❤️

Aquarius rising children always look upset in their pictures or they have that thousand mild yard stare 😭 help #me

Sagittarius rising children always had that mischievous look on their face in every picture, or they looked incredibly angry. They had no issue letting their true selves out 😤

Pisces women tend to move far from their home town or childhood home. Lots of them have dreams of living far away from their roots. I think its to discover who they are and rebuild themselves after going through a lot. They physically need to disconnect from toxic environments to heal.

Gemini sun women are like teachers in many ways. Especially when they’ve healed a lot. They can be a teacher to the siblings around them or people. Many turn out to be motivational speakers because they have so much wisdom to share.

Thank ya’ll so much for reading 💗☮️ feel free to like comment and reblog to support the blog 🧘✨ Have a great one!

Paid Readings ✨

[glotoru]

i’m your national anthem | eren jaeger

the note ☆ this is part two of my lana coded!eren ‘series’, see part one here. once again my soft spoken and older eren (drooling) spoiling his lovely little wife with everything he can but this time it’s at his place of work after she pays him a visit. it’s not as “cinematic” as the first part but i like this one a lot and it’s a birthday gift for myself lmao. inspired by national anthem (demo), lana del rey.

contains ☆ nsfw, fem!reader, stupidlyrich!eren, soft husband!eren, established relationship, semi-public sex (there are cameras), office sex, eren in a yummy suit, lotta praise, oral (m. receiving), handjobs, facefucking, vaginal, sex on a desk, backshots, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, panty stealing (kind of), possessive eren, he likes you in a sundress, use of pet names. black reader as always but it’s all subjective so read if you like it my loves <3

wc ☆ 4k words (it was meant to be much shorter lmao)

eren jaeger is a successful man.

many would even stretch out as to say that he's almost won in life. he's made it on the forbes list, attended every exclusive gathering to be thrown in society, racked up hundreds of thousands of dollars in his chequing account; he's a well deserved ceo—not from start up connections, not from nepotism—eren jaeger has worked his way to the top from down below. and while he's considered to have everything a mortal man could ever dream of, eren believes his true fortune lies within you.

"mr. jaeger?" a timid voice calls from the entryway to the conference room, where a suit clad eren stands at the table's apex, which holds a stack of printed papers, with two other shareholders seated at the sides listening in on his presentation.

another thing about eren is that he likes rules—he has rules. there are rules employees know not to break; no bribes, no in house disputes, and certainly no entering his boardroom when having a meeting with his shareholders without his request. so when one of his brightest interns shifts uncomfortably under his gaze with a look of fear morphing his facial features, eren knows he’s been asked to do so by someone with more power than even him.

"i take it that my wife is here?" eren breathes, mindlessly running a hand through messy growing hair but still refusing to acknowledge the fact that you came at such an inconvenient time. "could she wait for another twenty minutes? we've almost concluded the contracts."

the sorry smile given by the intern is enough of an answer for him, "i don't think it would be appropriate for me to repeat the words she said, but she didn't give off the impression of wanting to wait long, sir."

so…spoiled.

he could already imagine how you would be waiting there; making yourself comfortable up on his desk, legs dangling in your four inch heels and tapping your nails against the glass whilst admiring the photo of the two of you on your honeymoon situated at the desks edge. of course, you would be doing this all with a small pout on your face, ready for you scold him for how long it's taken him to head back to you.

nursing an apologetic smile, he glances towards the man and woman on each side as if silently asking to resume this another time. they wave him off with small laughter, going on about keeping you happy and all the unimportant other things; eren's too preoccupied with going to see you to register their words.

he's quick making his way to the elevator, but not before swiping a single champagne coloured rose from a vase nearby; eren knows he can't show up empty handed, not with you. it's not irregular for you to come to his work so unannounced; at a random time on any given day. you strut around the office like it's yours, you make friends with the secretaries and listen to office gossip like you're one of them, and you tell his assistant all about the plans the two of you have like he doesn't already know. at this point his employees hold you in higher regard than they do him.

it's expected though; seeing how you have their boss contorted around your pretty finger.

your face lights up from it's bored expression when you hear the elevator chime. it takes four of eren's long strides to reach his office doors, and he opens it to a carbon copy of what he'd imagined only minutes ago.

"'ren!" smiling at his tall frame, you open up your arms for him to take. the smell of his rosewood cologne pronounces itself through the hug, which shortly turns into intertwined lips. "missed you." you mutter against his now gloss stained mouth, taking hold of his stubbled chin with long nails to deepen your kiss.

"i missed you too baby, got you this," he mumbles, handing you the flower before steadying his hands on both your sides, essentially baring you to his warm body, "how was your hair appointment?"

"thank you," you soften, casually dipping your nose into the welts of the rose to take in it's scent before continuing, "it was good, didn't take as long as i thought so i wanted to come say hi!" your eyes dilate to black expanses as you properly take him in. eren left early today, so you couldn't get a glimpse of him leaving the house. but seeing him now, with his hair pulled up into it's signature messy ponytail and the blue armani suit you told him buy—you could quite literally drool.

"it looks good." he takes a piece of your hair before leaving it alone. "and your dress looks real pretty on you."

grinning at his words, you shimmy out of his hold; intentionally ignoring the way his eyes follow the dips, curves and pudge highlighted by the sundress you wear. "so, i thought we could eat some food together."

for the first time since entering the room, his eyes shift from you over to the wicker basket on the nearby sofa.

you're sitting on his lap as he rests in his chair, putting some radish on the cucumber roll before feeding it to your husband, "hope i didn't pull you from anything..."

ah…

eren is a calculated man; he doesn't act irrationally. instead, he thinks—thinks for just a few seconds of possible outcomes depending on what he does. but with you? there's no need for that; you probably knew there was a high chance of him being in a meeting, if you weren't already told that by his assistant—so, as always, he chooses the answer that'll ultimately keep you happy.

"hm? nope, nothing important enough."

"oh, mkay." you nod, taking a mini donut from its cute package and popping it into your mouth. after dusting off your hands, you fiddle with the strands of hair that frame his face, “you coming home early today? we can watch that movie i was talking about—and i’ve been dying to get to properly use the theater with you.”

“let me think about it, princess—but i’ll try.” he sports a boyish smile, accepting the water bottle you hand him before watching you clean up the empty trays and takeout boxes. his words are most definitely for show, that man will be home by six instead of eight—hell, make it five.

perhaps eren jaeger truly has won at life; god…you look alluring, walking around his space with your heels like the place is your own, fragrancing the room with the scent of your lotion mixed with the perfume he gifted you. his wandering eye is fixed to your legs, catching how your dress rides up with every step taken.

“can feel you starin’ at me.” you tease in a sing-song voice, wiggling your hips as you bend down to pick up fallen trash.

“good.” his long legs aid him in striding towards your frame, large hands come to rest on your hips from behind. his thumbs begin to rub soft circles on them as he plants a kiss on your forehead, “did my employees see you in this?”

“duh—i had to see them to see you,” you laugh. 

you know damn well what this is about, and you find it amusing. for the most part, your husband is a calm man; slow to anger, leans towards calmly solving disputes as opposed to growing aggressive, and when he gets agitated, he takes a break. but at the mere mention of his wife, eren seems to abandon all sensical thoughts of zen he once had. 

“any of ‘em stare?” 

“dunno.” you respond with a shrug and turn to face eren, smoothing down the collars of his outfit with your hands, “i don’t pay attention to any of them. they’re not you.”

“okay.” he makes his way back to his seat, gesturing to you to follow along. “i really do mean it when i say you look nice in that dress—well, i always mean it but…”

you’re giggling, standing in between his spread legs while looking down at him, “thanks ‘ren.”

“mhm, i’m the luckiest man in the world.”

oh…he has that tone in his voice again; the rasped one that has your legs pressing together when he speaks. it’s the kind that happens when he gets a lustful glint in his eyes—when he wants to fuck you. his hands wander up the fabric of your dress, the feeling of his cold wedding band makes you gasp and steady your hands onto his shoulders for support.

“h-hold on.”

“something wrong?” he stills, “if it’s the cameras, i’ll get the footage removed—or maybe you want me to get a copy of it?”

“nothing’s wrong.” you shake your head, but make a mental note to ask him to indeed grab a copy before deleting it, “just want you to relax for a moment—i know i took you out of that meeting.” you speak as slowly and your fingers move down his arms, keeping his eye contact as you lower your knees to the ground. “‘m sorry love, i wanted to see you for a bit.”

why are you apologizing? there’s no need for you to, there’s never been a need for you to, and eren doesn’t think he would ever make you either. 

“let me make it up to you.” 

you don’t let him get much of a word out before you’re unzipping his slacks and palming the prominent bulge that greets your eyes. his body shows it’s gratitude by sinking into your ghostly touch. eren can only breath in sharp inhales as you free his dick from it’s confinement, straightening itself out as translucent pre stumbles from the tip. you shouldn’t be shy but eren is big in every sense. and your brain seems to struggle with object permanence; eyes almost blowing open in surprise of how thick he is despite you practically owning it. the phantom ache in your jaw seems to be a warning—you shouldn’t try anything.

but eren’s presence alone overrides all alarms and commands in your brain, and the hazy look he gives you from his seat has you subconsciously wrapping your hand around his base, shifting across the length and tracing the roads and ridges of his veins with your tongue. 

he sucks his teeth when you pucker your lips at the slightly pinkish tip, feathering a little kiss before letting spit fall from your mouth and onto his cock. the dribble doesn’t make it past the head before you’re meeting it with your lips, steadily taking him into your stretched walls. the feeling of the burn from your mouth molding in indecent ways would make you wince if not for the effects eren’s soft groans and breaths have on your cloudy mind.

“such a pretty sight. p-pretty fuckin’ view.” a sigh escapes him when you hollow your cheeks. admittedly, it’s nothing like the home he knows your cunt as, but when you bottom out and his tip punches the back of your throat, it seems like the closest thing. it surely is a sight to see: a sweet woman like you, doing something so damn nasty.

your throat tightens with each bob, trying its best to prevent a gag but failing every now and then. still, you plant a hand on his knee for stability to lessen the slight burn in your knees given by the nylon carpet beneath them, and allow the mixture of precum and saliva escape your mouth and dribble everywhere. 

“oh, fuck—yeah, you got it.” he’s amazed, seeing you take him like a fucking champion, choking all over him without a single complaint. “that’s my girl.”

despite going nice and slow, you get messy—his dick fucks up your sensory system. glittery tears breach your water line, threatening to drop and roll as you sniffle away. 

eren is pulled out of his trance when your mouth escapes him, watching you with a slight furrow in his brow. you gaze at him through your pretty lash extensions, tongue unfurling out for you to tap him on. “tastes so good eren.”

“shit—don’t say that to me.” his whimpers are loud, as loud as his heaves for the same air that seems to avoid him. conscious of the chance that sound could somehow transfer, he drapes his hand across the lower half of his face and captures the guttural groan from his chest.

“you don’t need to be quiet,” your hand grabs hold of his own, carefully guiding it from his mouth to the back of your head. silently, you watch him with admirable and expectant eyes that could make him cum from the sight alone, “don’t you own this place?”

my god… you want him to face fuck you, you’re outwardly asking him to do so without a drop of shame. right until your makeup is ruined and a crying mess from how full your mouth is. he doesn’t do it often—he’s too scared of watching you cough up spit and develop a sore throat the next day for it to happen regularly. besides, eren is a pleaser—very rarely did he have you like this unless you openly wanted it. but with the look of expectation you have, sniffling and pleading for him to help you like a dutiful husband he promised to be, it’s difficult to him to do anything other than comply.

eren wants to give you a standing ovation watching you submissively relax in his tender hold. with eyes full of love, he steadily lines you up with his tip, counting you to three before guiding you down the length of his cock. your husband starts off slow, keeping a nice pace that makes it easy to inhale enough to go back down. but like all things, it grows—grows faster. hands tangle in your hair, driving your head down to meet him halfway; you gag and choke and drool out the corners of your mouth, you dig and scratch with your nails, you savour quick inhales that are quickly consumed and leave you with even less air than before. 

the tip of your nose tickles the pubic hair at his pelvis as he holds your head steady at his base. the cut off of circulation has your eyes going spotty, but the lightheadedness just feels so so so good.

upon seeing the twitch in his brow and the rapid rise and fall of his chest, your breath hitches—he’s going to cum if you continue. whatever words you attempt to speak translates to vibration that makes his dick jump, so twice, you pat his arm. 

there’s a look of panic on his features, ignoring the mess left on his lower body and he releases you from his grasp. almost subconsciously, he pushes all traces of hair from your face, cupping you cheeks and forcing you to look at him, “did something happen? are you alright? was it too much—i’m sorry, love.”

“no.” you shake your head, moving from the position in front of him that made your knees ache and buckle. quietly, you turn your back to him, hazardly pressing your body into his desk while your hands tease up the back of your thighs, dragging the dress’s fabric along with it. “just want you to cum inside, it doesn’t feel as good when you don’t.”

symphonies ring through his head: eren is sure he’s won at life—and he’s going to be selfish with it. you’re his freedom—your pussy is his national anthem, not the fucking two minute song that rings monotonely in his mind after hearing it. he can’t rip his eyes away when your dress climbs up and over your ass; it exposes your thong and it’s  practically swallowed by the folds of your pussy, which leaves a damp spot right near its entrance. 

“oh, eren…” you sigh in relief at the feeling of your hand fumbling to pull your panties to the side for your husband to see just how wet you get on the mere thought of him. your fingers are met with no friction as you slowly rub your clit, nails clacking against each other and you spread the slick that coats your cunt. 

you pull away from yourself with a string connecting your fingers to your pussy, all before giving it a few love taps once more. “‘s all yours.”

it’s all his…what a fucking lucky man. your scent has commanding control over him, clinging to his body and moving him towards you like a puppeteer and he’s the woodwork. hands rounding over the fat of your ass, he makes quick work of pulling your thong off one leg and letting it pool at your ankle. he’s not afraid to admit it: eren jaeger will die for this pussy—his wife’s pussy.

he makes quick work of you, slotting his dick within your folds, fucking himself up against your clit a few times before convening at your hole. he sheaths himself inch by inch, reveling in the soul snatching grip you welcome him with. the pulsation of your spongy walls almost bites at him—cause a stuttered moan to fall from him as he bottoms out into you.

“fuck!” you squeal at the feeling of his tip budding up against your cervix. frantically, you try to inch forward to build some space between you two. 

“nuh-uh, no fucking running,” he sucks his teeth, digging his dull nails in your hips to keep you flush against his body, “take it whole, didn’t i teach you better than that?”

“mm—mhm!” baring your eyes shut, you allow your upper body to relax into the glass surface of the desk while he finds his rhythm. but you’re at a loss for words, mouth hanging open as he drags out to the hilt and buries himself back in until he’s trying to bypass your ass. his repeated strokes strikes against the soft spot at the roof of your cunt, “you’re going so fast.”

“am i—shit—am i supposed to go slow?” he asks knowingly, to which you frantically shake your head no to. had he gone any second slower, you’d be throwing a damn fit, whining about his talking too much time in teasing you and throwing yourself back into his hips instead. “yeah, that’s what i thought.”

each thrust drags out more of the milky white slick that forms a nasty ring around the base of his cock. “r-ren, you’re kissin’ me…” you whine, wiggling and writhing as you feel him reach your cervix—‘n it hurts, hurts real good and eren knows you don’t want him to stop. 

your sobs fog up the glass below, and with tear stained eyes you turn your head to look back at your husband. his pace falters when he locks your gaze—it’s hazy and pretty, your once neat waterline is now smudged against your lower eyelids, and your plump lips are in a pout to suppress what would be breathy moans to quick whimpers—all which reach his dick just the same. 

eren wastes no time grabbing a hold of your leg and hoisting it up to meet your torso on the table. the new angle gives him leeway to hit deeper—rub against his favourite spot that has you seeing stars.

“fuck, yeah—p-please eren.” you’re babbling incoherently, eyes gluing shut to give yourself some peace of mind as you shift your hips backwards to meet him halfway, “give it to me, jus’ like that!” 

oh, shit. 

your eagerness messes up his pace, making him curse at the feeling of his cock slipping out of you and instead slipping up against your neglected clit.

“c’mon…put it back in.” you’re whining, rubbing your cunt all over him like the neediest thing he’s ever seen—but you’re so molded to eren; there is undoubtedly nothing else in the world that makes you feel better than the way he does.

“calm down, be patient.” his voice is smooth—firm. it pulls you down into a sense of docility; security. it almost makes you forget how you’re being defiled on the desk where he earns a living so you can wear the pearls on your neck. “you’re so good to me.” he’s mumbling, fucking himself through your folds. 

you can hear the sounds of your juices mixing, and eren giving a low groan before bottoming back into your sweet pussy that welcomes him back like a man once at war.

“baby…gonna—i’m gonna cum.” you shake your head at the inevitable—you’re already whimpering and your legs are buckling under the pressurizing buildup in your bottom torso. 

and eren? he would never deny you of anything you wanted—in fact, he loves when you cum; your body goes rigid and develops an ironclad grip on him, and your mouth hangs open in the most obscene, yet pretty, way. so he encourages you, coaxes you on by keeping steady, hitting harder. 

“f-fuckfuckfuck—fuck!” when your hand shoots down to rub and fuss and your clit, you’re done for. 

eren’s strokes don’t stop when you do. instead, he lets you ride out your high right on his dick—and you…your walls are fluttering around him. uncontrolled sobs leave your mouth as you grip onto the table for some sort of stability, “that’s it.” 

“you feel good?” he asks, moving your leg from the tabling and bringing you up to meet his body. 

your mind is so gone, you can only mirror the words of your husband, “mhm—feels good.” 

his hands grab your waist, pulling you down into the chair with him. there’s little time for you to process your surroundings before eren’s got your back flush against him, arms hooked around the back of your legs, bringing them back towards your chest. 

“you can take a little more for me, right?” he huffs, blindly navigating himself back into your hole before receiving extra aid from your fucked out self. 

truth be told, you’d take anything for eren—even when you’re crying from the sheer overstimulation you feel as he sloppily bounces you on his cock. you can only pray he cums quick, all before you truly start to get messy in his place of work. 

“give it to me ‘ren.” moaning sweetly, your hands make their way to the nape of his neck and tug at the hair found in your fist, “c’mon—give me what i came here for.” 

and eren…he doesn’t like to keep you waiting. 

“fuck—you’re just the most spoiled thing aren’t you?” he moans—truly, he knows there is no one to blame but himself. and when you give him pussy this good, what else can he do?

your heeled feet clack together as eren fucks up into you with little regard for decency. his breathing is erratic, either heavy or almost laboured and still. your name is stuck on his lips—rolling around on his tongue like candy—he says it like a chant, rambling on about how only you can get him like this. shallow groans and grunts as he stills in your cunt—making sure you feel every rope of him by keeping you right on him despite your squirms.

“feel full?”

you scoff playfully, moving from your position once eren lets you, only to see a coy grin settling on his face. he’s not expecting an answer—especially when you return his smile while tugging your dress back down your legs. his eyes follow your movements, watching as you gather the picnic basket, keys to your pink porsche, and lace thong within your hands before making your way back to him.

slotting the underwear into the pocket of his blazer jacket, you whisper, “you’d better be home early, mr. jaeger.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

fellow + gidel ssr time fellas

(This bastard took an entire soft pity :(( but hey, I got a Dorm Uniform Jade dupe and finally FINALLY my first Dorm Uniform Floyd on the way, so I ain't too pressed about it.) RISE UP FELLOWIVES NOW’S YOUR TIME

***Character profile, voice lines, Groovy, and vignette spoilers below the cut!!***

First off! His official profile, coffin, and candy (Fox Candy):

(School) Grade/Class: None

Birthday: May 17 (Taurus)

Age: 26

Height: 181 cm

Dominant Hand: Right

Hometown: ???

Club: None

Best Subject: Mathematics (specifically Arithmetic)

Hobby: Watching theater

Dislikes: Saving money

Favorite Food: Apples

Least Favorite Food: Potatoes

Special Skill: Sewing

We finally get confirmation of Fellow’s age! (He had previously said in Playful Land that he was 20-something.)

I love that Fellow’s best subject is math Deuce is jealous/j; it makes so much sense given that his inspiration, Honest John (and Fellow himself) aren’t good at reading. It’s that whole “kids are either good at math or English” stereotype. In Japanese, the phrase 算数 is used. 算数 refers to arithmetic, or very basic math taught in elementary school (adding, subtracting, multiplying, and dividing). That specific phrase explains Fellow’s elementary level of understanding. His dislike being saving money is also related to numbers; he spends the money he has right away to get by in the moment. Fellow doesn’t really have the skill or the luxury of financial planning, he has to focus on the here and now, looking out for both himself and Gidel.

OMG, his favorite and least favorite foods???? 😭 Playful Land has apple (core) flavored candies and popcorn… and again, this is a reference to Honest John and Pinocchio’s first encounter! He takes the kid’s apple and eats it, lol cnsvwiwguwkw Potatoes being his disliked food… Maybe it’s because it’s the “poor” man’s vegetable? Because potatoes are so versatile, keep for a long time, and are filling because of the starch content, Fellow might resort to eating them a lot, so perhaps as a result he got sick of the taste.

What I find most interesting about Fellow’s profile are his listed hobby and special skill. He largely comes off as despicable and a slimy scammer (which he is, don’t get me wrong), but we can see different sides to him in these details—both the inner child that had his dreams trampled but remains hopeful about the future and the big brother figure/guardian to a child. Gidel is actually formally referred to in Fellow’s profile as his (non-blood related) brother, which made my heart melt 🥺 TWST must know I have a thing for beastmen who act shitty but are actually excellent mentors to the children/j

Fellow enjoys watching theater. It’s a way of transporting you away temporarily to new worlds with crazy stories and emotional performances. When words aren’t enough, you sing. And when singing isn’t enough, you dance. It’s an area that’s so full of life and joy, at least from the audience’s perspective. I’m thinking that watching theater must have been a form of escapism for Fellow, especially with how accessible it is (think of like street performances). Watching theater might also serve a dual purpose of teaching Fellow how to come across as amicable and friendly, which says a LOT about his character. He’s resourceful and able to learn from unconventional sources, then is able to apply those skills to real world situations.

Fellow’s special skill being sewing is surprisingly very cute! If you’ve taken one look at his and Gidel’s designs, we may have already spotted some of his handiwork. There’s mismatched fabric patches on their clothes!! The stitches look so clean too. The patterns not matching is probably because Fellow just used whatever scraps he was able to get his hands on, but I also like to imagine that he tried to make the best of the situation by incorporating the mismatched fabrics in a fun way (like the diamonds in his pants).

Next, can we talk about the composition of that GROOVY????

It’s another reference to the same Pinocchio scene! Fellow’s holding his book like Honest John did and it looks like he’s trying to teach Gidel the alphabet from words scratched on the sidewalk. Notice how the C is written backwards too 😂 He even wears glasses like when Honest John was trying hard to act like an intellectual.

And Gidel!!! Pencil and pad of paper in hand, he looks so interested to learn (something which was hinted at in Playful Land). Gideon in the film is also shown with a pen and pad of paper, scribbling down nonsense as Fellow pretends to diagnose Pinocchio.

Gidel glances up at Fellow with an expression of admiration. I love how wholesome their relationship is depicted as, it leaves a warm feeling in the heart.

The framing of this Groovy is very interesting. We have Fellow to our left—a direction has historically been associated with evil (in Italian, the word for left is even sinistra, as if to imply something sinister) and in the darkness. Gidel is the one to our right and in the light. It presents Fellow to us as someone who has given up on his dreams—but not completely, since we see some light touching his hat, gloves, and highest features + he is currently teaching Gidel and still has dreams of opening his own school. Gidel is shown in the light because he’s still a naive child that doesn’t understand how the world works. His dreams haven’t been destroyed yet, and there’s hope for him to have a better life since Fellow is looking after him and instructing him.

CHECK THIS OUT, GIDEL FOLLOWS FELLOW TO CLASS LIKE MARY'S LAMB OR SOMETHING????? Gidel pops out from under the desk or out of/behind Fellow's cape! Gidel also joins Fellow on the homescreen.

Some of Fellow's expressions are so priceless... For example, look at him in Flight! There's an unsure face and a little bead of sweat. (He makes a lot of pathetic accompanying sounds too, lol) Flying takes magic, so he's probably not confident or powerful enough to maintain flight for long stretches of time--though when he does nail it, he looks ultra smug.

ADGKVAVFOOEFIEQOfsl HIS SHOCKED FACE

How uncool, Fellow-san...

His attack sprites are very similar/identical to what we saw in Playful Land--Fellow's just playing for the opposite team now.

Gidel hops into battle to assist, so I guess they count as the first two-character card. It's been a while since I've seen these animations, but I think I can appreciate them a lot more now. I'm noticing new little things like how Fellow adds a bunch of showmanship into his attack, little flashy flourishes and even presenting Gidel with his arms splayed, as if welcoming a star to the spotlight. The attention to detail really is crazy for these.

If you want to read his voice lines in full, you can find an excellent fan translation of them here! I'll just be remarking on things I noticed while combing through the voice lines myself:

First off: bro calls himself Fellow Hones-SAMA???????? OKAY, KING 😭 Love that confidence you got goin' on there...

bifabsiyofbefe Love how he just reads a textbook and then flat-out admits he has no clue what the heck it's saying. Hey, honesty is a virtue.

Ace 💀 He has the balls to play a prank on an adult... I kind of want to know what the prank was, but at the same time I feel like I should be shaking my head and telling him off for doing it in the first place. I do appreciate that Ace being shitty brought out Fellow's true personality there for a second though, I live for it when Fellow gets real steamed and starts shouting that the NRC students are brats or that they should drop out if they have no motivation in school.

The way Fellow automatically clocked that Kalim is way too trusting and would surely be in danger even if he wasn't the one to come for him... Fellow, watch your back. Jamill WILL come for your sketchy ass for what you did back then.

I didn't find anything super interesting in Fellow's comments about Ortho, but I do think it reveals that there is value in him coming to school. It's only at NRC where Fellow can see such a curious thing like Ortho, and that speaks to the value of really going out there and being exposed to different things. That's part of Lilia's own growth arc too, and a large part of why he now spreads that same rhetoric.

Fellow remarks that Ramshackle is "pretty sweet", which means one of two things: either this is the refurbished post-book 6 dorm OR it's still the shabby pre-book 6 dorm, but since Fellow and Gidel have never really had their own stable housing, even run-down old Ramshackle seems like a massive upgrade.

Fellow and Gidel must have been so happy to see that lunch at NRC is free and served buffet style (so there's no limits to how much you can take). On top of that, they got dead chefs from 5 star restaurants staffing the kitchen! Those two really hit the jackpot, I hope they eat well.

AVUSDGVUADOVIAISDBIDAS THE DIALOGUE IMPLYING FELLOW CASUALLY BYPASSED THE SCHOOL'S BARRIER AND OTHER SECURITY MEASURES... So Chenya-core of him, really. Fellow may not have magical might, but he's seriously street smart to have found a way in like he has.

Small detail but I appreciate how Fellow has lines which call attention to Gidel. It doesn't just remind us that Gidel is there too, but it also demonstrates to us that Fellow actively tries to include him in the conversation despite Gidel's muteness (a condition which may lead others to outright ignoring him or talking down to him).

LAST THING (though it's not in MysteryShopTL's linked post): in his birthday greeting to the player, Fellow says that both you and him don't have talent for magic, so you should get along. I didn't think the game would acknowledge the player and Fellow's similarity in that sense, so it was very nice to be proven wrong.

And to finish off this post (which ended up being way more massive than I thought it would be), a quick summary of the vignettes!! If you want to read them in full, please check out MysteryShopTLs’ post!

In vignette 1, Fellow and Gidel are putting on a street performance in Silk City. Fellow collects fees from the onlookers and then tries to milk more out of them by spinning a story about how Gidel is a puppet that can walk without strings. Buuut Gidel moves like a normal living being and sneezes, which ruins the ruse and leads to the crowd getting mad at them. The duo run off, but Fellow reveals that while the locals were looking at Gidel, he used magic to steal some of their precious metals and jewelry. In the next vignette, Fellow and Gidel have moved on to Fairest City. It's said that they live a nomadic lifestyle and hop from place to place, never staying for too long in any one location because word of their scams may spread and cause a situation where they cannot reasonably make money through their lies. (Cute detail: Fellow listens to Gidel's suggestions on where they should go next and even praises Gidel's smarts.) This time Fellow's trying to auction off a magestone that he claims will allow anyone who holds it to use magic. The people of Fairest City don't believe him and give him the cold shoulder, which upsets Fellow (since he really hates it when others look down on him). He ends up using his UM to get his audience to be more pliant and manages to sell the magestone for a pretty penny. At the end of this vignette, Fellow drops a line about how he and Gidel are so free, how they can do whatever they want since they have nothing holding them back. I really love that thought~

AND IF YOU THOUGHT VIGNETTES 1 AND 2 WERE FUNNY HAHA TEEHEE CUTE, WAIT UNTIL YOU SEE VIGNETTE 3 💀 VIGNETTE 3 FELT LIKE IT WAS A TARGETTED SNIPE ON MY HEART

The setting is Sunrise City! Fellow and Gidel are being chased off by an angry person they tried to rob. It looks like they're unsuccessful today and will be going hungry. Gidel tries opening a random can of OIL in search of food, so Fellow scolds him and tells him to leave it be. Apparently Gidel does this a lot when he's hungry (just grabbing random shit and trying to eat it), even though Fellow has tried teaching him how to read. THIS IS WHAT THE CONTEXT OF THE GROOVY IS, FELLOW SQUATS DOWN (like we literally see his 2D model lowering) AND DRAWS IT ON THE GROUND FOR GIDEL TO SEE. O is for orange, I is for ice-cream, and L is for laugh. Fellow realizes that L is the only non-food word, but he couldn't come up with anything else. I wonder if like... this is some common game they do to distract from hunger. They have to imagine the food they could have but can't. And L being "laugh"? That can't be a coincidence. Fellow could have used any other L word as an example, even if he couldn't come up with a food that starts with L. It makes me think he picked "laugh" on purpose in an effort to lift Gidel's spirits and to try and distract from their circumstances.

Aaaah, as I was saying! Fellow gets upset that he doesn't know as much as your average 26-year old would since he never went to school. Gidel seems to sense his frustrations and reassures him with a pat, which reenergizes Fellow. He says he'll try to find some food, so Gidel should focus on making a fire. While gathering wood to burn, they come across a job posting by a shady rich man that Fellow and Gidel supposedly did another job for in the past. Fellow suggests that they check out the job and if they don't like it then they can leave. ADSKJBBSLDIADBLUBAB These are the events leading up to Playful Land... meaning that Fellow’s showmanship is wasn’t something he developed at the amusement park, but as a general coping and survival mechanism to get by day-to-day.

I uh. May or may not have cried a little at Fellow and Gidel's really wholesome interaction 😭 I MEAN YEAH OF COURSE I'M A SUCKER FOR BIG BROTHER CHARACTERS (and we certainly see that in how Fellow scolds Gidel and looks out for his wellbeing, both in the vignettes and in Playful Land) but also???????? ? ? ? ? ?? ?????? ? ? ? ?? I love Love LOVE how Gidel is shown to be supportive of Fellow as well. Fellow as the older person, the adult, and the able-bodied one of the duo is pulling most of the weight when it comes to getting resources and handling communication. However, Gidel plays an important role in their dynamic as well. He's the heart and the emotional support that Fellow needs when he's down in the dumps and being hard on himself. Gidel not only serves as a "reason" for Fellow to work hard (to support a child), but he also gives Fellow motivation and hope that tomorrow can be another day. YOU CAN REALLY TELL HOW MUCH THESE TWO CARE AND LOOK OUT FOR ONE ANOTHER OTL

OOOOOOOoooOOooOOGGHHHH MY HEART *clutches it* I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE, I CAN'T HANDLE THE ONII-SAMA OF IT ALL

[jjunieworld]

february 14th 𓍼 🌾 ·˚ ༘

pairing: kang taehyun x fem!reader

genre: angst, some fluff if you squint, strangers (kinda) to lovers, college au, major character death, death in general (both on page and mentioned), kinda dead dove, talks about grief

synopsis: this has to be the worst day of your life. and just your luck, the day keeps repeating. over and over again. and you don’t know why. you get to relive the same day where you finally garner the courage to ask your crush, kang taehyun, out and get to relive the part where he rejects you each time.

word count: 13.6k┊masterlist

a/n: omg first 10k+ word fic!! happy birthday tyun!! this is lowkey inspired by a manga series called orange (which is one of my all time favorite mangas! you should really check it out because it’s so so so good but please look up tws), that one episode of supernatural where sam repeats the same day, and lowkey life is strange lmao. i am so so sorry my baby hyuka :( this was really interesting to write tho, so i hope you enjoy! ♡

if you had to experience another valentine’s day over again, you’d personally find and kill cupid yourself. you were sick of this day, sick of your confession, sick of the stupid crush you had. and most of all, you were sick of being stuck in this fucking time loop.

you don’t even know how you got in this situation. how the universe decided that, yes, y/n should experience the day where she gets rejected by her crush over and over again! wouldn’t that be so much fun? rest assured, it is not.

no matter what you did, your confession of liking kang taehyun always came to the surface, no matter how much you avoided him. whether that be from your actual mouth, or from someone else’s somehow. you didn’t even know how, since you haven’t told anybody about your crush—well, except your roommate chaewon, but that was purely coincidental and you were sure she wouldn’t tell anyone. and no matter what you did, or how you acted, or how you dressed, taehyun would always reject you.

this all had to be some sick joke that everyone was in on. what was the point of it all? you sighed as you woke up in your room, once again, on valentine’s day.

you looked over to your nightstand like you have for the five hundred and forty-seventh time. the confession letter you had spent so long on the night before—well, not the night before—was laying there. it's pretty pink paper with elaborate cursive writing, love doodles, and glitter mocking you. you glared at it as you got ready for your classes. you had tried once to leave it at your dorm room, to not give it to taehyun at all, but then your roommate showed up with it in the hallways.

“y/n! you forgot your confession letter to taehyun!” your roommate, chaewon, had practically yelled as she jogged over to where you were coming out of your class. heads turned to the both of you and you wished you could be six feet under. you quickly glanced around and made direct eye contact with taehyun, who was frozen mid stride with an open notebook in hand. you fled the scene and avoided him like the plague for the rest of the day, only for him to come up to you himself as you were getting lunch a good ways away from campus. “hey… about the confession letter… i’m really flattered, truly, but it just isn’t gonna work between us. i’m not looking for a relationship right now, i’m sorry.” he had said, before turning and walking away, leaving you gaping in the restaurant.

those words have been replaying in your head over and over for the past five hundred and forty-two loops. “it just isn’t gonna work between us,” at least he was kind about it.

you were tempted to just stay in your pajamas, but you’ve already done that last loop. yawning as you put your bookbag over your shoulders, you exited your dorm room and made your way to your first class of the day. no matter how much sleep you get in each loop, you were still dead tired. courtesy of staying up all night the night you made the confession letter.

realization hits you and you turn back towards your dorm at the same time that chaewon comes out of it, your confession letter in her hand. “y/n, you forgot your confession letter!” the both of you say at the same time, you mainly copying what she has said so many times before. “i know,” you added. chaewon’s eyes widened in shock, a smile spreading across her face. you took the letter from her and shoved it deep within your bookbag, definitely crumpling it.

“i’m in a time loop, chaewon. i know exactly what you’re gonna say.” you sighed and ran a hand down your face as you stifled another yawn. “sure, i can guess the next three words that are gonna come out of your mouth. lemon, eight, and cutie patootie, which are four words by the way.”

chaewon’s face dropped even more in shock. you just sighed deeper. “i’m gonna need your help today. that confession letter i made last night… it cannot get to taehyun. do you hear me?” chaewon just nodded and you gave a small nod back. you turned and began your way to your class again.

luckily for you, you shared your first class with taehyun. photography 101 with mr. kim. today’s class dealt with polaroid cameras, which you were also sick of dealing with. you sat in the empty seat near the window where you always sat and got your notebook out as class started to begin. if you were honest, you chose this seat cause it gives you the best view of your crush. the sunlight filtered hazily through the window illuminating taehyun’s features, making him look even more dreamy. it probably wasn’t the best idea, since you spent most of the class staring at him and wanting to take a picture of him; rather than paying attention to your teacher and what he wanted you to take pictures of.

you tried your hardest to focus this loop around. you wished that after how many times you lived this day, your crush would just disappear. i mean, you would think getting rejected five hundred and forty-six times would help right? wrong.

at first, you thought of the time loop as a blessing in disguise. there to help you fix your mistakes and finally get the guy you’ve been crushing on for a while now. wrong, again. for the first hundred or so loops you tried everything in your power to curate yourself to taehyun’s tastes. even going so far to dye your hair and buy a bunch of new clothes. nothing worked. it was hopeless. so now you’ve been spending the past four hundred and so on loops trying to get out of the loop. also hopeless. you just couldn’t crack what was keeping you here, on this day. and why you of all people.

mr. kim had given all the students in the class polaroid cameras, not the modern ones, but one of those old ones from the ninties. you rushed to get your things as class ended, polaroid camera in hand, when you ran face first into someone and spilled the contents of your half open bookbag all over the floor.

the polaroid camera had fallen from your hands and bounced off your foot, snapping a picture and momentarily blinding you with the flash. “if that camera is broken y/n you will be paying for it!” mr. kim’s voice had loudly spoken as you blinked rapidly and tried to get the spots out of your eyes.

“sorry!” you mumbled to whoever you bumped into as you crouched to the floor to grab your things. they crouched next to you and helped you. “don’t worry about it!” you heard a familiar voice say. you froze, hand in the air ready to grab your notebook, as taehyun’s voice rang through your ears.

the letter, you thought. the gears in your brain started working again, breaking you out of your frozen state, and you began getting your things off the floor faster. you shoved them into your bookbag without caring if things got bent or folded. taehyun handed you a couple textbooks, which you all but snatched from him, and also shoved those into your bookbag. after getting to your feet, you mumbled another sorry, before turning to fly out the door again.

“y/n, wait!” taehyun called from behind you. you froze again. please don’t be the letter, please don’t be the letter, please don’t be the le— you thought. you slowly turned and saw him rise to his feet, your notebook in hand. he held it out to you, a small smile on his face. “you almost forgot this,” taehyun spoke.

“thank you,” you replied in a small voice, returning his smile. you took the notebook from him and bolted out the class. on the brightside, at least it would’ve been a short loop if taehyun had grabbed the letter. no doubt, once he saw the big ‘to taehyun, from y/n’ on the front in big glittery letters he would’ve rejected you right then and there and the day would restart.

the only time the day has progressed past the rejection was the first ever day, before the loop started. you had been so excited to give taehyun the letter, even if the sleepiness was tearing you apart. it was valentine’s day, the day of love, and you thought that today was absolutely perfect to tell him about your feelings. after all, at least you wouldn’t be alone in sharing your feelings for someone.

everywhere you looked, new couples sprang up. it made you giddy inside. that’s going to be me, you thought. you couldn’t wait, you had the whole confession planned out. after your classes for the day were over, you were gonna wait outside the arts building for taehyun. the sun would be setting and with the perfect backdrop of a beautiful sunset, you would hand him your letter. taehyun would read it, a smile crossing his face, and he would accept your confession, making your wish come true. it would be written in the shooting stars. then the two of you would start dating and run off into said sunset, blah blah blah.

except, that’s not how it all happened. you waited outside the arts building, the setting sun in the background. you had waited for forty-five minutes, unaware that the class was delayed thirty minutes and that taehyun would stay behind for another fifteen for help from the teacher. by the time he came out, it was dark outside. you were cold and annoyed, and the confession letter was held limply in your hand, spare glitter piling up on the ground.

when you had silently handed it to him, he looked at the monstrosity in shock. it was clear at first glance he knew what it was, and it was only made even more apparent when he opened the envelope and read the letter inside. “o-oh…” he stuttered out, and your heart dropped and the deliberate blankness of his face. “y/n, i’m—“ that’s all you could bear to hear before you just nodded and swallowed thickly, tears rimming your eyes, and ran off.

you had cried in your dorm room all night. the whole interaction replaying in your head as you wished and wished for a miracle until you fell asleep from exhaustion. imagine your shock when you woke up again, confession letter on your nightstand and the day reading as valentine’s day. a joke, it all was, all you hoped. it wasn’t. only one good thing came from the time loop, nobody remembered anything from the previous loop. only the previous day, february thirteenth.

you had gotten back to your dorm room, not having classes until later in the day and desperate for sleep, when you stepped out of the way of chaewon’s hands. “how did you—oh my god! you really are in a time loop!” chaewon exclaimed. you stepped past her and made your way to your dresser to change your clothes. “yes, and i’m very tired and would like to sleep the day away.”

“well, what about taehyun? what about your confession? does he know yet?” chaewon asked as you slipped some shorts and a plain t-shirt on. you turned to her, shaking your head. “no, and it’s for the best that he never finds out.”

chaewon furrowed her eyebrows. “why did something bad happen in the last loop? how many times have you relieved this day?” you just laughed wryly, “you have absolutely no idea.”

“we gotta find some way to sway his mind!” she then exclaimed. you shook your head furiously, sitting down heavily on your bed. “there’s no use, chaewon. he doesn’t like me like that. like, at all.” you tried to keep the sadness from creeping into your tone. chaewon sat on her bed, a pout on her lips. “the only thing we can do is make sure that he doesn’t even see the letter at all,” you added.

“well where is it? have you tried burning it?” chaewon asked. you stood to retrieve your book bag. “i have actually, didn’t work.” it was around the two hundredth loop when you were getting deeply frustrated. there was a campfire party happening that you went to after avoiding taehyun for the whole day. you had thought that you were finally in the clear, even let yourself begin to hope a little. that’s when you decided to just burn the letter and let it all be done with.

it sat in the fire, the edges burning, before a magical gust of wind blew it out of the embers. right into taehyun’s hands.

you literally couldn’t believe your eyes. there was literally no way that the letter just did that. that’s when you knew that this loop was a curse, that you’d be doomed to repeat this day until the end of time. and probably after that too. your mouth had dropped, taehyun looked over to you with furrowed eyebrows. you get the rest.

“i know, you don’t like me…” you had trailed off, overlapping his words. you turned to walk away and the next thing you knew, you were waking up in your bed again.

you were rummaging through your messy bookbag when chaewon replied, “have you tried confessing to someone else?” you paused and turned to her. “i haven’t… actually…” you trailed in thought. this whole time you were so focused on your feelings for taehyun, you hadn’t even thought about anyone else. “i’m not sure it would even work,” you said. “even after all this time i still like him.”

“well, you have all this time… why don’t you try to start developing feelings for someone else and get over the feelings you have for taehyun?” chaewon said. you thought it over for a second. that doesn’t sound that bad of an idea. you already know that taehyun doesn’t and never will like you back, so what’s the harm? maybe it’ll actually work and you can be free from this loop. “who would i even like?” you asked, momentarily abandoning your bag.

chaewon pressed her lips together for a moment before shrugging. “there’s plenty of attractive people here, you could choose anybody!” you sighed deeply. “i can’t just choose someone to like… it doesn’t really work that way.” chaewon shrugged again. “it could at least help!”

you guess she was somewhat right. narrow the pool of people. you could go based on personality, or at least those the personalities you know of. whichever personalities clash with yours can get crossed off. “whatever,” you mumbled. “i guess it could work. i’ll think about it.” chaewon clapped happily as you returned to your bag for the letter.

heart dropping, you flipped your bag over and watched the contents inside fall to the floor. looking through the pile frantically, you came up with nothing. the letter was gone. chaewon called your name and you looked up at her, face paled. “it’s gone… the letter… it’s gone.” she crouched down next to you with furrowed brows and began searching herself. when she came up with nothing also, she sat back on the ground. “if you don’t have it, then where is it?”

that’s when you noticed a polaroid tucked under one of your notebooks. you pulled it out and stared at it. chaewon leaned over to get a look at it too. “taehyun must have it,” you said. the polaroid was a blurry picture of you and taehyun from class earlier that morning. “but if he has it…” you trailed. if he has it, then why hasn’t the day restarted?

you and chaewon spent the next forty-five minutes searching every nook and cranny of your room for the letter and still came up with nothing. you had explained to her how the time loop worked—as far as you knew it—and what it meant if taehyun had seen the letter. “so what does this mean?” chaewon asked, the two of you were sitting on your floor after cleaning up the mess you made. “i have no idea,” you replied. “i hope it means that all of this is over. but who knows if he actually has the letter. maybe somebody else picked it up when i dropped all my stuff.”

picking up the polaroid again, you stared hard at it. stupid camera. if you hadn't focused so much on it, you wouldn’t have ran into taehyun and dropped the letter in the first place. you rose to your feet, your class was about to start. “you’ll find it, y/n. and then maybe this whole day will stop repeating.” chaewon spoke, trying to comfort you. you just nodded solemnly, setting the polaroid on your desk.

suddenly you felt super dizzy and nauseous, and there was a heaviness on your heart. you held your stomach as you doubled over. chaewon jumped to her feet, her hand coming to your back as she bent to see your face. “y/n? what’s wrong?” all you could do was shake your head. you didn’t know. you’ve never felt like this before.

the next thing you knew, you were waking up in your bed to your alarm. you looked around your empty dorm room with confused eyes. did the day restart? you looked to your nightstand. there the letter sat. slowly, you got out of your bed and stood in front of it.

how weird. that has never happened when you restarted a loop before. taehyun didn’t even reject you, the day just started over. maybe it doesn’t have to be face to face? but, you didn’t get a text or anything. and if it was a mental thing, the day would be over before you even woke up.

you were getting ready for the day when chaewon came in from her early morning class. quickly, you explained to her the time loop again and proved the validity of your statement. “we’ll talk later about it, i have to get to class.” you said as you turned to the door. that’s when your eye caught something.

the polaroid you accidentally took from the last loop. it was still sitting on your desk in the exact place you sat it down. you ran over to your desk and snatched the picture, holding it up. you felt chaewon come up behind you. “what is it? oh! is that you and taehyun? when did you take this?” chaewon asked.

“i didn’t…” you trailed. “at least, not this loop. this is from the last loop. how is it here?” what is going on? chaewon took the polaroid from you to get a closer look. “that is so strange…” you nodded in agreement.

you left for your class after putting the polaroid back in a safe space on your desk. for the most part, the day was the same, except this time you took your time with your items and made sure your bookbag was zipped all the way.

when you were walking out of the classroom, you heard your name being called from across the hallway. you panicked for a second, thinking you forgot the letter and chaewon was here to spill your crush again. turning to the direction your name was called, you were shocked to see taehyun walking up to you.

your throat closed up the closer and closer he got until he was standing in front of you and you could hardly breathe. this was it, the letter somehow slipped from your bookbag and ended up magically in his hands. he was here to reject you and the day would repeat again and again. “i have more classes, but do you mind if we talk later on today? this afternoon?” taehyun asked. your eyes widened.

what did he want to talk about? you racked your brain for answers that didn’t come to you. this never happened in a loop before. usually, taehyun just straight up rejects you. “uh—sure!” you manage to push out, a nervous smile playing on your lips. he smiled back, handing you a small piece of paper with his number on it. “i’ll text you the when and where.” you nodded numbly as he said goodbye and walked away. did you just get his number? just like that?

“what do you think he wants to talk about?” you asked chaewon. “do you think he remembers the last loop? knows why it ended so abruptly and why that polaroid remained?” she sat across from you on the floor, a puzzled look on her face that was the same as yours. she thought for a moment before shrugging. “i honestly have no idea…” her face then lit up with a thought. “what if your letter from the last loop remained too and since he allegedly had it, he read it early? but since it’s the basis of the loop—or so you think—it got copied somehow?”

that actually didn’t sound too far off. it would help make sense of the way the last loop ended. also on why he suddenly wanted to talk to you. “you might be onto something, chaewon…” you trailed as you thought more on what she said. “but the loop resets when he rejects me, and he always rejects me. so if he had already read it, he would’ve already rejected me.”

“maybe the rules changed… you did say he didn’t explicitly reject you last loop. maybe things are changing. maybe the loop is starting to end and that’s why all these weird things are happening?” chaewon interjected. you sighed deeply and just shrugged. your head was spinning from it all. “i guess i’ll find out later today.” just in that moment you got a text from taehyun. you had texted him earlier saying that this was your number.

hey, it’s taehyun! can we meet at the benches next to the arts building in three hours?

you breathed in sharply. chaewon leaned over and pulled your phone down so she could read the text. “let me know what he says!” you just laughed a little and nodded, standing to your feet to get ready for your next class. you typed a quick text back to him.

yeah, that works for me. see you there!

you heart was pounding rapidly in your chest. you hoped that what chaewon said was true, that things were changing and the loops were finally coming to an end. you don’t know how much longer of this time loop you could take.

it was the meeting time for you to see taehyun. you had grabbed the polaroid from the last loop from your desk to ask him about and see if he had any answers. the chill of the morning had settled into a cool warmth. you saw taehyun waiting for you on the bench and felt goosebumps rise on your skin as you wished you brought a jacket.

his head turned to you at the sound of your approaching footsteps and he rose to his feet. “hi,” you said shyly as the both of you sat on the bench. you sat your bookbag on the bench next to you. “hi,” he replied, a small smile on his face. “what did you want to talk about?” you asked him.

taehyun turned to dig in his bag. your hands shook slightly in anticipation. he then turned back to you, a crumpled envelope in his hands. it was your confession letter. confusion washed over you. but your letter was in your bag? taehyun opened his mouth to speak but you held up a hand to stop him.

reaching in your bag, you grabbed your letter and held it out next to the one taehyun had and compared the two. they were exactly the same, except for taehyun’s version being crumpled and a little worse for wear. was chaewon right? both you and taehyun stared at the letters in confusion. “impossible…” you muttered under your breath.

you looked up at him, “there’s no way you should have this letter…” you were truly at a loss for words. taehyun’s confused eyes looked at you. “you dropped it…” taehyun began to speak before trailing off. you stared at each other for a moment.

“no, i didn’t—i mean i did, but that was… you shouldn’t—what is happening?” you stumbled over your words.

“wait… you remember dropping it? when we bumped into each other?” taehyun asked you. you stared at him with wide eyes. instead of answering his question you asked, “you’ve been repeating this day too?”

taehyun looked taken aback for a second before slowly nodding. your eyes never left him as you thought about what this meant. all those loops of you pining, changing yourself, and obsessing over his acception; all those things you did to try and get him to like you, he remembers? all those loops he rejected you over and over… you knew he didn’t like you, that much was obvious, but the fact that he remembered every five hundred and forty-eighth rejection caused your heart to hurt in a way you never thought it could.

embarrassment heated your cheeks. in order to save face a little bit, you turned and reached in your own bag for the polaroid. you held it out next to the matching letters. “how did these survive the last loop if…” you trailed off as you snuck a glance at him. you didn’t want to bring up how he rejects you each time you confess to him. he gently took the polaroid from your hands as he analyzed it.

taehyun’s face lit up briefly and he pulled out the polaroid camera from his bag. suddenly, you were blinded by the flash as he aimed the camera towards you. “hey! what the—“ you got cut off by another flash, this time aimed towards him. you watched him in confusion as he sat the pictures down on top of the letters and you both waited for the pictures to develop.

as the image came in, you could see how the both of you were blurred in them, yet everything else wasn’t. you leaned forward slightly to see them closer. even the bench wasn’t blurred. you took the camera from taehyun and ran up to the random person walking past. “photography assignment, sorry!” you muttered out before aiming the camera at the two of you steadily and taking a picture. the person looked at you weirdly before continuing on their way.

you walked back over to taehyun as the photo developed and stopped right in front of him in shock as the image developed. “what is it?” taehyun asked, standing to his feet and coming by your side.

in the polaroid, it was only you who was blurred, not the other person. “this is so weird…” you breathed. taehyun nodded in agreement. “do you think this has to do with the time loop?” he then asked, referring to the blurriness. shrugging a little, you leaned over to the bench and grabbed the other three polaroids and held them all together. “it has to,” you replied.

you then turned to him, “how does the loop end for you? is it different each time or does something specific trigger it?” taehyun’s eyes suddenly averted and you saw his shoulders sag ever so slightly. he moves to sit back on the bench. “um… it’s my friend… he—he dies.” your eyes widen and you stare at him for a moment, mouth agape. “oh! oh… i’m so sorry taehyun…” you trailed off, also sitting on the bench.

taehyun clears his throat, opting to change the subject. “how does it restart for you?” taehyun asks. you hesitate for a second. is it appropriate to bring up him rejecting you after he just told you that his friend dying resets his loop? “uh… well, this feels really inappropriate to bring up after everything, but it’s when you reject me.” you manage to push out. taehyun’s eyebrows raise as he glances over to you. the awkwardness in the air is so thick you’d have trouble cutting it with a knife.

“wait…” you trail off. you haven’t heard anything about someone dying today. does that mean he experiences more of the day than you do? “your day extends farther than mine does. if we’re both in the same loop, how does that work?” taehyun hummed in thought. “i’m not sure… but without any interruptions or changes, my day always ends at the same time. eight forty-five P.M.” he then looked up to you. “have you made it that far? or past it?”

you looked down at your feet, not wanting to meet his gaze. it only happened a couple of times, enough to count on one hand. the last being the one where you tried burning the letter and it didn’t work. “a handful of times, but it was only by avoiding giving you the letter. you always ended up with it somehow…” you replied. taehyun nodded, more to himself. he must’ve remembered the times. “well there’s two letters now,” taehyun motioned to the letters, “so maybe the loop will change? i mean, i obviously know about the letter and the contents and you’re still here. that has to mean something, right?” you nodded in agreement, ignoring the fact that he essentially just rejected you again. it honestly didn’t even phase you anymore after all this time.

“what if our loops merged and mine now ends when yours does?” you threw out. it would make sense as to why you’re still on the bench talking. taehyun shrugged, “it’s possible…”

you turned to him fully, your hopeful eyes gleaming in the sunny afternoon light. “there’s two of us now, i can help you save your friend! and we can get them and chaewon together and come up with a plan! maybe saving them is what gets us out of the time loop.” when you noticed that he wasn’t responding, you shrunk back a little into the bench. “…if you’re okay with that.” you added in a quiet voice.

you could practically see the gears in taehyun’s head turning as he thought. it was another moment before he opened his mouth to respond to your proposal. “i guess it wouldn’t hurt… and while we’re at it we can test the time loop merging theory.” taehyun finally said. a wide grin pushed its way onto your face. you began cleaning up your things, making sure to shove the letter back into your bag even if he already knew about it, as you stood to your feet. taehyun gave you a confused look.

“where are you going?” he asked you. you gave him a confused smile, “to go get your friend and chaewon… if we’re gonna save your friend we have to start now!” taehyun slowly began cleaning his stuff up. “but… we have classes…” you let out a loud laugh and taehyun stood to his feet after putting his stuff away. “what’s a class that you’ve experienced almost six hundred times to saving your friend?”

taehyun slowly started to nod, “you’re right.” you nodded back to him. “of course i am. let’s go save your friend!” you grabbed his wrist and pulled him in the direction of the dorms. chaewon didn’t have a class right now, if you remember correctly.

you wished you were in a loop of seeing chaewon’s face when you brought taehyun to your dorm room instead of him rejecting you. chaewon in fact didn’t have classes, you were right. you pushed the door open to your shared dorm room, scaring her half to death. chaewon’s eyes widened and her mouth went slack as you pulled taehyun into the room and shut the door.

“change of plans…” you spoke, turning to the two of them. you motioned a finger in between you and taehyun. “he’s in a time loop too and we’re gonna save his friend from dying.” if chaewon’s jaw could drop further it would. she sputtered for a moment, trying to push her words out. “i know, i know. i was shocked and very embarrassed too. but we have work to do.”

taehyun turned to you. “embarrassed?” he asked. you felt your cheeks heat up. did he really have to ask that question? “well… you did reject me almost six hundred times. and you have memories of every single one. that is very embarrassing for me…” you turned away from him, suddenly finding your desk very interesting, as you talked. you heard an “oh…” from behind you and felt yourself die a little more inside.

you pulled out an empty unused notebook from your desk drawer and turned back to chaewon and taehyun. chaewon managed to pick her jaw off the floor and her eyes weren’t as wide. “who are we saving?” chaewon asked. the two of you turned to taehyun. his eyes widened ever so slightly from the sudden spotlight. “um… his name is hueningkai. he’s my best friend.” chaewon nodded, looking down slightly. “let’s get to work then! we have people to save, everyone!”

taehyun then led the two of you back to where hueningkai’s class was happening, which was building b. the three of you were standing outside of his classroom when taehyun glanced inside. “he’s still in class, but we can just wait—“ he was cut off by you barging into the classroom. another good thing that came out of this loop is that you pretty much don’t have fear about anything anymore—for the most part.

you looked back at taehyun as the teacher stopped mid sentence and the group of students stared at you confused. “which one is him?” you asked him. taehyun gaped at you, eyes wide. you sighed and turned back to the class. “hueningkai?” you asked aloud. “please step forward. uh… it’s very import—important business that you’re needed for.” you then remembered the teacher and quickly added, “the dean sent us.”

the teacher waved his hand and a guy close to the back stood slowly. hueningkai packed his things up and made his way to the front of the classroom. you gave him an awkward smile as the two of you walked out of the classroom, shutting the door behind you.

it was dead silent as the four of you walked out of the building. once you were in the clear of listening ears, you stopped and turned. hueningkai’s eyebrows were raised in confusion, an awkward smile on his face, as he looked between you and taehyun. “there’s no important business from the dean, she lied,” chaewon said. taehyun stepped towards hueningkai. “look, kai, this is gonna sound really weird but—“

you stepped to hueningkai and put your hands on his shoulders as you looked him in the eyes. “listen man, you’re gonna die today.” you heard a gasp come from behind you and taehyun started to say your name. you ignored both. “but that’s okay! because us two—” you motioned to you and taehyun with a finger “—are stuck in a time loop and we’re gonna save you!” you released him and took a couple steps back, nodding to yourself with a satisfied smile.

hueningkai looked absolutely terrified. “i’m gonna die?!” he exclaimed, taking a step back. chaewon took quick steps towards him, trying to give comfort. “no! well… i mean, yes, but we’re gonna stop that from happening!” she gave you a sharp glare and you noticed that taehyun had his head in his hands. maybe telling him outright was a bad idea…

taehyun pushed the two of you back. “kai… you get into an accident at eight forty-five… you don’t end up making it. i’ve been trapped in this time loop trying to make sure that you don’t die.” hueningkai took a deep breath as he stared at taehyun with furrowed eyebrows. he then ran a hand through his dark hair. “okay… so i die today. never thought i would say that.” hueningkai looked between the three of you. “so how do i not die today?”

you pulled the notebook out of your bag as you began coming up with the pillars of the plan. “first, we all go together in some safe space where we know nothing’s going to happen to you. also so we can see how far we can push the day before it resets for taehyun and i.” you started. “how about our dorm room?” chaewon asked. you turned to taehyun and hueningkai. they looked at each for a second before shrugging. “let’s head there now then!” you added.

thankfully nothing happened on the walk from hueningkai’s class to your dorm room. chaewon had gone out to get snacks and other things for the long night you all were about to have. you all decided that you were gonna skip the rest of your classes as well.

you were in the process of writing the ways that taehyun had tried to save hueningkai that ultimately ended up failing when hueningkai asked, “just how many times have you watched me die?” there was a pained expression on taehyun’s face that he tried to mask with a wistful smile. he looked towards you, “how many loops has it been now?” you stopped to think. “this is the five hundred and forty-ninth loop.” taehyun turned back to hueningkai. “um… about five hundred and forty-seven times, give or take.” hueningkai’s face paled significantly.

taehyun scrunched his face up as he looked back towards you. “if this loop just resets, what’s the point of writing this all down then?” that made you stop dead in your tracks. what was the point? “can’t you take a picture of it?” hueningkai asked. taehyun had filled him in on everything on the walk to the dorms. you looked at him with knitted eyebrows. “well, you said the polaroids stayed when you went into a new loop… just take a picture of it!” he added.

you guess that made sense. “but what if they don’t stay since it’s not of us?” taehyun asked. you pulled your polaroid camera from your bag and held up the notebook next to taehyun’s face as you got close. you quickly snapped the picture and sat it down on the hardwood floor in the center of you all as you waited for it to develop. “problem solved!” you smiled. taehyun blinked rapidly at you.

just then, chaewon came through the door with a couple bags in her hands. “i got snacks!” she exclaimed. she sat them on her desk and sat in the empty spot of the semi-circle. “what did i miss?” she asked as she leaned over to look at the newly developed polaroid on the ground. “writing down all the ways taehyun failed to save my life!” hueningkai laughed, before he saw the grave expression on taehyun’s face. “joking!” he then quickly added. hueningkai put his hand on taehyun’s shoulder. “it’s okay taehyun, we’re gonna figure it out. i’m gonna get saved and you’re both gonna get out of this time loop!”

“speaking of…” you trailed. you held the camera up so the four of you were all in frame. “say cheese!” you said, smiling for the camera. you heard a chorus of “cheese!” behind you as you snapped the picture. you sat that polaroid next to the other one on the floor. “just to make explaining more easier.” you added.

“if you keep snapping pictures you’re gonna run out of film,” said taehyun. you laughed a little, “it’s practically unlimited, given the loop.” he shrugged slightly, agreeing with you. “have either of you figured out why you’re blurry in the pictures?” chaewon asked you and taehyun. you both shook your head. hueningkai perked up. “maybe it’s because everyone and everything around you is essentially stagnant. like, technically none of us change by the end of the loop. we’ll all reset. but the two of you do—even if it’s not physically. you have the memories and experiences of the past however many loops you’ve been through!”

it was as if suddenly things started to click into place. “you’re right! if you think about it, we’ve been in this loop for like a year and a half days wise. yeah, some days were shorter and longer than others, but a year and a half nonetheless! time around us is kinda frozen if you think about it. maybe the camera picks up on that and we’re blurry because we’re the only things in motion!” you were waving your hands in the air, speaking a mile a minute, hoping you were getting your point across. taehyun’s face lit up more and more as you spoke and he nodded along.

“do you think it’s the same with our phones?” taehyun asked as he pulled out his phone. you all shrugged. he turned the camera towards you all and snapped a picture. taehyun turned back towards you all with a confused expression. hueningkai leaned next to him over his phone. “what is it?” you asked as you leaned forward. “it didn’t even take the picture… how weird,” taehyun replied. you looked over at chaewon. she raised an eyebrow at you, “maybe it’s because it’s new technology?” none of you really had an explanation.

the rest of the night went by pretty insignificantly. you all had gotten a bunch of blankets to make a makeshift bed on the floor for taehyun and hueningkai. everything started to go wrong in the middle of the movie you were all watching.

the four of you were sitting on the floor, a laptop with the movie playing in front of you, when all of a sudden you heard coughing. you snapped your head over to hueningkai, who’s face was turning red by the second. “oh my god! is he choking?” you heard chaewon ask as taehyun started frantically hitting hueningkai’s back. you jumped up to grab a water bottle.

handing the water bottle to hueningkai, he croaks out, “it’s my throat…” he tried getting the water bottle open to no avail. “is he allergic?” you turned to taehyun and asked, referring to the popcorn you were all eating. he was practically drowning hueningkai with water as he rapidly shook his head. hueningkai was turning blue. you, taehyun, and chaewon were all flying around the small dorm room trying anything to help hueningkai but it seemed as if nothing was working.

suddenly, it seemed as if everything stopped. you looked to taehyun, who had frozen in his spot. he looked back to you, his eyes wide and glossy, and you realized that hueningkai’s chest wasn’t moving.

the next moment, you were waking up in your bed the morning of february fourteenth, marking the five hundred and fiftieth loop. you didn’t waste any time. the polaroids from the last loop sat on top of your dresser where you had put them before the movie. you grabbed them just as chaewon came into the dorm room.

convincing her wasn’t that hard to begin with, but it was significantly easier with the polaroids. especially the one of the four of you. the two of you rushed to your morning class that you shared with taehyun, hoping that he has the same idea with hueningkai.

you saw him rushing up the hallway opposite from you, a confused hueningkai in tow. you barely stopped for a breath when you reached them as you pulled out the polaroids. “time loop, understand?” you asked hueningkai. he looked at the polaroid for a brief moment before nodding. you exhaled and doubled over, you and chaewon had practically ran across campus. looking down, you also realized that you were still in your pajamas.

“um… so that didn’t work…” you breathed, turning to taehyun. he simply nodded, eyes to the floor. he too was in his pajamas. the two of you must’ve looked crazy. “i don’t understand…” taehyun trailed off. he led the three of you towards the exit of the building. “if he wasn’t choking, then how did he…” he added, looking off to the side.

you stopped and waved them all over to the bench to sit. taehyun ran his hands through his hair. “i don’t know,” you spoke quietly. chaewon and hueningkai both gave you confused looks. you forgot that they didn’t remember the last loop. quickly, you filled them in on what happened, watching as shocked expression took over their faces.

“and you’re sure you’re not allergic to popcorn?” chaewon asked, leaning forward to look at hueningkai. “butter? salt? anything that goes into making popcorn?” hueningkai shook his head, “no… not at all. i’m confused as to how that happened too.”

taehyun was quiet next to you. his head was in his hands and he was bent over. you put a hand on his back as you leaned down a little. “taehyun?” you asked quietly. you felt him inhale deeply. he sat up slowly and rubbed at his eyes.

“five hundred and fifty times…” taehyun started. “five hundred and fifty times and you would think that i would be somewhat used to it by now. use to death.” he dragged his hands away from his eyes. they landed heavily in his lap. your hand moved from his back to his shoulder. taehyun turned to his right to face hueningkai, “i’m so sorry, kai. i don’t know how to save you.”

you shook your head at that even though he wasn’t facing you. taehyun continued, “at this point, i don’t even know if it’s possible. you would think it would be, given the circumstances, but each loop keeps proving me wrong. i don’t know what else to do, but i can’t just let you die.” his voice cracked as he spoke and got lower and lower until his last sentence was just above a whisper. you felt your heart break at his sentiment.

you couldn’t help but think about how foolish you’ve been for the majority of this time loop. you spent so much time trying to get taehyun to like you back while he’s spent the whole time loop trying to save his best friend from a brutal ending. that time could’ve been spent coming up with ideas together, using your combined ideas to try and save hueningkai from death. but no, you were changing your appearance and crying over the fact he kept rejecting you. how idiotic. your face flushed with shame and embarrassment.

“we are going to save him,” you spoke confidently. taehyun turned to you, his face was stained with tears. “how? i’ve tried everything and nothing has worked.” you stood from the bench, thankfully the area around you wasn’t that populated with students.

“we have to get to the roots of the time loop,” you said, hitting your fist on your palm. “we don’t know how we got into it, we don’t know how to get out of it, and we don’t know why we’re the only two who are initially aware of it. so we have to start listing what we do know and work from there. we both know how the time loop restarts, and it has basically been confirmed that our loop restarts have been merged.” you didn’t want to outright list the reason, it was clear they understood what it was. no use in pushing the knife deeper into the wound.

you continued, “we need to know if there’s a general cutoff point to each loop.” chaewon nodded along, “do you remember what the time was when the last loop ended?” she spoke softly as she glanced over to taehyun and hueningkai. you shook your head. taehyun wiped his cheeks and furrowed his brows. “i think it was midnight?” he said, uncertainty in his voice. “i remember checking my phone like ten minutes before everything happened and it was 11:47pm.”

“and you said i was completely fine before…” hueningkai motioned over to you. you nodded. “so i would say that the general cutoff would be midnight, or the second before. it would make sense… you’re only limited to this one day within the loop.” hueningkai looked around at the three of you, seeing if you got what he was saying. you all nodded.

you motioned for them all to stand. “alright let’s go then!” taehyun stood and gave you a confused look, “go where?” you gave him a slightly amused look as you raised your eyebrows. “we’re gonna need a lot more than a notebook if we’re gonna plan this all out.”

you were thankful that you were on a college campus, so the confused and curious looks were at a minimum as the four of you carried four large poster boards across the sidewalks. you were heading to the library where chaewon had set up a meeting room for you all to sit down and work through your plan.

once you got to the library and the room chaewon had reserved, you breathed in deeply as you shut and locked the door behind you. hueningkai was laying the poster boards across the large table side by side. you walked over and began opening the pack of permanent markers you had bought as taehyun put both of your polaroid cameras on the table.

“okay,” you sighed as you began, opening the marker and leaning over the table to write on one of the poster boards. in big letters at the top you wrote ‘WHAT WE KNOW’ and added a bullet point for the loop ending at midnight, or the second before, exactly. “so we know that the loop ends at least the second before midnight.” you spoke and stood straight. “and we know that hueningkai wasn’t choking on anything. so that means we can conclude it was some magic of the time loop itself. the next thing we need to figure out is how to trick the loop.”

taehyun turned to look up at you from his seat next to you. “trick the loop? what do you mean?” before you could speak, chaewon did. “the day was just about to change, right, meaning that you had almost broken the loop. but at the last moment, hueningkai suddenly died. that means that somehow the time loop itself is aware. which means—“

“we have to trick it!” you, chaewon, taehyun, and hueningkai said in unison. their faces all brightened and you smiled to yourself. hueningkai’s eyebrows knitted together slightly. “but how do we trick the all-knowing time loop into believing i’m dead without me, you know, actually dying?” he asked, causing a couple chuckles to be let out around the room. the tension in the air lifted a little and your smile widened with newfound hope.

you leaned back over to the next poster board and reached over to the top of it. “by entering what i like to call phase two,” you spoke as you wrote ‘PHASE TWO’ on the poster board. under it you wrote, ‘WE KILL HUENINGKAI AND REVIVE HIM JUST BEFORE MIDNIGHT.’ you looked up to wide eyes looking back at you. “and just how are you expecting us to do that?” taehyun interjected.

you smiled at him, eyes burning brightly, “it’s simple. we stop hueningkai’s heart three to four minutes before midnight—preferably three to be safe. in the seconds before it actually hits midnight, we perform cpr and save him!” it seemed like a good idea to you. i mean, it was really the only idea. hueningkai scrunched his face up, “i don’t know about this…”

“we’ll it’s either you die—briefly—and get revived, or you just straight up die. so pick your poison,” chaewon said. you heard taehyun mutter “jesus…” under his breath. hueningkai blinked at her.

“i guess either way i’m dying, so i would prefer it to not be permanent,” hueningkai spoke. you nodded in satisfaction. “how are we even gonna kill him in a way that doesn’t actually hurt him? in a way we can actually bring him back?” taehyun asked you. your smile fell slightly, you hadn’t really thought that part through. before you could say that you weren’t exactly sure, a phone ringing cut you off.

hueningkai looked around at the three of you with a sheepish smile as he pulled the ringing phone from his pocket. he looked down at the caller id, “it’s my sister. i’m sorry, i gotta take this.” a worried expression passed across taehyun’s face as he began to stand. “no, you stay. i’ll go with him. the two of you remember all the other loops anyways, you need all the information you can get,” chaewon said as she stood to her feet. taehyun hesitated before nodding and falling back down on his seat. hueningkai and chaewon left the room, leaving you inside alone with taehyun.

you pulled out the chair in front of you, which was directly next to taehyun, and sat down. you wished that your heart didn’t speed up at the fact that you were alone with him. even now, your feelings for him haven’t changed. you were still in love with him, the confession letter still sat heavily in your bag.

“y/n?” taehyun asked. you turned to him in question. “i just wanted to say thank you. you know, for helping me in all this to save kai. you didn’t have to, but you did anyways, and i’m grateful for that. clearly, i wouldn’t have been able to do it alone.” you smiled softly at him. “it’s no problem! i mean, we’re in this together. literally.”

taehyun laughed at that and it made your heart soar. you were happy you could make him laugh after seeing him cry earlier. glad that you could give him some hope in this fucked up situation. “seriously though, y/n. thank you,” taehyun smiled at you, his eyes boring into yours. you gave a nod in response, your smile warming. “i’m here for you!” taehyun’s smile widened.

you were just doing what anyone would do if they were in this situation. there wasn’t any need to put you on some pedestal and give you a good person award because of it.

before you could get too lost in taehyun’s eyes, you turned back to the poster boards with heated cheeks. under ‘WHAT WE KNOW,’ you began filling in everything that you were a hundred percent certain of about the time loop, taehyun aiding you. when hueningkai and chaewon came back inside the room, thankfully none of them harmed, the two of you were shoulder to shoulder, each writing on seperate poster boards. taehyun had used the third poster board to write down things he tried that failed to save hueningkai, ‘WHAT FAILED’ written at the top.

hueningkai and chaewon had sat in the seats across from you two, looking at everything you had added. “do you think there’s a way we could make these stay between loops? like the letters and polaroids besides taking a picture?” taehyun asked you, waving a hand with a marker in it over the poster boards. you sat back in your seat in thought and looked over to the polaroids that were spread out next to the cameras.

you tried thinking of an idea, but came up blank. “i have no clue. i mean, it has to be possible. we still don’t really know why there are two letters.” it was silent for a moment as everyone thought it over. “you said your loops essentially merged to join his, right?” chaewon asked you, causing you to nod. “and you said that when that happened, the letter was missing and the loop ended suddenly, causing the letter to duplicate and for you both to have one. now the time loop restarts for the both of you when he—“ she jabbed a thumb in hueningkai’s direction “—dies. have you tried seeing what happens what happens when… you know…” chaewon trailed, referring to you getting rejected.

you glanced over to taehyun to see that his eyes were fixed onto the table, cheeks flushed. you bet you didn’t look too different. you both haven’t really talked much about that part of the loop. granted, you had better things to worry about. “i mean… just to make sure that the loop doesn’t restart…” chaewon added awkwardly.

clearing your throat, you reached for your book bag to pull out the letter. you sat it on the table between you and taehyun and looked at him. “well… let’s try it so we can add it to the list.” just like that, awkward tension grew in the room.

taehyun swallowed thickly and reached for the letter. opening it, he read over the contents swiftly, already knowing exactly what it says. he looked up at you, his eyes meeting yours. “i… i’m sorry, y/n, but i…— don’t feel the same way about you.” taehyun folded the letter back up as he looked away. you looked down to your feet. the tension in the air grew thicker.

silence hung in the air for a few moments, before you couldn’t take any more of it. “okay! we’re still here, so…” you turned to write on the ‘WHAT WE KNOW’ poster board. you then looked around the room. everyone was avoiding each other’s eyes. “back to figuring out ways to kill hueningkai… any ideas that won't ultimately hurt him in the long run?”

“what if i held my breath?” hueningkai asked, causing you and the others to laugh. you breathed a sigh of relief as the tension started to dissipate. “that wouldn’t work, your body would literally make you start breathing again,” taehyun replied, a grin playing on his lips.

chaewon face brightened with an idea, “what if we drowned him!” you, hueningkai, and taehyun gave her a shocked look and chaewon then realized she said that a bit too enthusiastically. “i would rather not be drowned,” hueningkai exclaimed as he gave a small smile to chaewon, a laugh at the edges of his voice. she chuckled slightly in return.

“suffocation?” taehyun offered. hueningkai tilted his head, “and would you be doing the honors of holding the pillow over my face?” taehyun smirked at him and replied, “if you want!” as they talked, you were writing all the ideas down, excluding hueningkai holding his breath.

hueningkai clapped his hands together, “suffocation it is!”

“what if your body starts fighting back?” you asked, genuinely curious. hueningkai hummed in thought. from the corner of your eye you could see taehyun stifling a laugh. “make sure you tie me down then,” hueningkai replied.

“kinky,” taehyun muttered under his breath, backing away from hueningkai’s attempt to shove him from across the table with a grin. you finished writing and put the cap on the marker, tapping it against the table. “let’s get to it then!” you smirked.

suddenly, chaewon spurted, “what if when you past midnight, things change for the worst?” everyone stopped in their tracks and the room fell deathly silent. what did she mean ‘change for the worst’? the thought seeped into your head like ink and you tried not to let it spread over your thoughts. “that won’t happen,” hueningkai assured everyone, though he didn’t seem to believe his own words that much. if you were in his position—hell, you don’t even need to be in his position—you wouldn’t believe them either.

you glanced over to taehyun who, in turn, was already looking at you with wide eyes. his thoughts in them were clear; we all have to make it past midnight alive and well. all of us.

back at you and chaewon’s dorm, it was twenty minutes until midnight and you could feel the stress swirling around the room. you all basically spent the whole day in your dorm room, staring at the walls, too scared to eat or drink or even watch anything on the off chance it might somehow kill hueningkai.

at some point, chaewon suggested that you all got to know each other. you didn’t miss the sly smirk she gave you either, deciding to ignore it with a roll of you eyes. halfway through, she suddenly struck up a conversation with hueningkai about some school topic that you knew she didn’t have any interest in, leaving you and taehyun to continue the game alone.

deep down, you felt thankful for chaewon, even if she was deliberately trying to set you up right now. honestly, you didn’t know how you would’ve got through this time loop without her.

you and taehyun started asking the randomest of questions to each other. spanning from what your favorite color was to if you had to be any planet in the solar system, which planet would it be and why. your face was flushed with heat that you hoped he didn’t notice as the two of you grew closer. the confession letter burned hotly in your bag across the room, you could feel it like a tether to your soul, begging you to come closer. to reveal it.

during the exchange, you and taehyun somehow got closer and closer to each other as you answered the questions. the two of you were laughing and smiling at each other as your knees and shoulders brushed together from your closeness. you hadn’t even realized that chaewon and hueningkai were whispering to each other now as they stared at the two of you.

the night continued like that up till now. the room was so silent you could hear a pin drop. hueningkai was laying on your bed, eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling. chaewon kept her eyes on the clock on her phone. she downloaded an app that allowed her to see down to the millisecond. you and taehyun were still sitting on the floor, just as close as you had been the whole day.

you looked at him and his eyes trailed over to yours from where he was watching hueningkai on the bed. you gave him a slight nod, squeezing his knee briefly before standing to your feet. “we should get ready,” you said. the others nodded in agreement.

ten minutes until midnight and the pillow was shaking in taehyun’s hands as he stood at the edge of the bed, looking down to hueningkai. you stood next to him and chaewon stood behind you, giving you updates on the time. “it’s okay taehyun,” hueningkai whispered as he looked at him. taehyun just shook his head solemnly in response.

hueningkai sat up, throwing his feet over the edge of the bed in between you and taehyun. “i’m gonna try holding my breath,” he spoke. taehyun opened his mouth to argue, but hueningkai swiftly cut him off with, “i’m holding my breath. if it doesn’t work, well, you guys are in a time loop...” he scooted backwards so his back was flush with the wall.

“five minutes until midnight,” chaewon announced. hueningkai looked at the both of you. “be ready to revive me…” he trailed. hueningkai opened his mouth wide, gulping in as much air as he possibly could before closing it tightly with puffed cheeks. he closed his eyes, letting his head hang and his body relax.

you felt something squeeze your hand tightly and glanced down to see that it was taehyun’s hand. you felt it tremble as his locked nervous stare remained on hueningkai. “two minutes,” chaewon breathed out.

hueningkai’s face was turning purple and you wanted to advert your eyes so badly but couldn’t let yourself. his body watch twitching as it fought against him and his eyes squeezed together tighter. at this point, you didn’t know if it was him or the magic of the time loop taking over. hueningkai’s body went still and he fell over limply, his final breath smoking out between newly parted lips, just as chaewon called, “one minute, it’s go time!”

taehyun was squeezing your hand so tightly you thought it might break, but you didn’t make any moves to remove it from his grasp. chaewon started to count to twenty and as soon as she hit it, taehyun jumped into action. he pulled hueningkai towards him and the two of you got him down to the ground as gently and as fastly as you could. chaewon started doing cpr on him and there was nothing you and taehyun could do but watch and wait.

chaewon had thrown her phone to you when she dropped to the ground, and you took over managing the time. “thirty seconds!” you shouted, as chaewon started pushing on hueningkai’s chest in regulated increments and blowing air into his mouth.

“ten seconds,” you managed nervously. hueningkai still wasn’t breathing. you heard taehyun’s heavy breathing next to you as you watched the numbers grow closer to midnight. with your eyes still on the clock, you took taehyun’s hand as the final three seconds were up.

you woke up in your bed, confession letter on your nightstand, on the five hundred and fifty-first loop. you jumped to your feet, wasting no time as you grabbed your things, when there was rapid knocking at your door. you turned to the door in confusion. when you opened it, a frazzled looking taehyun was on the other side. you beckoned him in.

“so stupid…” taehyun muttered under his breath as he paced the room. “so stupid to let that idiot hold his breath, what was i thinking?” you walked up to him and put your hands on his shoulders, forcing him to stop his pacing and to look at you. “taehyun, take a deep breath,” you said as you stared into his eyes intently. you felt his shoulders rise and fall as he obeyed your command, his eyes fluttering closed. he took another before opening them again.

taehyun took your hands in his. “we’re gonna save him,” you said softly. “all of this isn’t just on your shoulders, okay? we’re in this together. let me share some of the weight.” taehyun’s eyes were trained to the ground as he nodded. just then, chaewon entered the room.

she saw the two of you, your close stance and intertwined hands, and froze mid walk. her mouth opened but you broke away from taehyun and strode up to her before she could say anything. “chaewon! we need your help! we’ll explain on the way.”

later that day, the four of you were once again in you and chaewon’s dorm room. ten minutes until midnight on the clock and taehyun gripped the pillow in his hands so hard his knuckles were white. hueningkai was laying flat on your bed again, looking up to the ceiling.

“five minutes, go time,” chaewon said as she moved closer to the two of you. you gave taehyun an encouraging smile as hueningkai closed his eyes. inside, your stomach churned. you really hoped it worked this time, you don’t know how many times you could watch taehyun essentially kill his best friend to save his life. your heart ached for taehyun, you didn’t know how many more times he could watch his best friend die—let alone be the one to kill him.

taehyun lifted the pillow mere inches above hueningkai’s face. the pillow shook from his trembling. “i’m so sorry, kai,” taehyun whispered, letting the pillow fall from his hands. he took a large step backwards and folded into himself.

you couldn’t let this loop go to waste. springing into action, you inhaled deeply as you pushed the pillow down onto hueningkai’s face. behind you, you heard chaewon say, “you’re on time.” chaewon was then next to you, holding hueningkai down to make sure he didn’t move.

“tw—two minutes,” taehyun’s voice shook. hueningkai’s body stilled once again and you and chaewon brought him to the floor to begin cpr.

“ten s-seconds,” stuttered taehyun. chaewon was laser focused on reviving as you sat and watched. in your head, you counted down. hueningkai didn’t wake back up.

sighing, you woke up to the five hundred and fifty-fifth loop; the others failing once again. four times hueningkai had died. four more times you had failed to save him. this time, chaewon had the idea of hueningkai drinking a bunch of energy drinks before his untimely demise to help jumpstart his heart better. when she said it, you all looked at her with amusement, but any idea is better than no ideas right about now.

taehyun was at your door again, like he was for the past four loops. when he entered, he immediately pulled you into his embrace. for once, the time loop was good for something, you thought. it’s a blessing that the two of you don’t dream, you feared that that would break taehyun completely.

you rubbed taehyun’s back as he tried to stop himself from shaking. he pulled away slightly as he looked into your eyes. “y/n, i know the two of us have grown closer through dubious means, but i am truly glad i got to know you. even if this time loop never ends, even if i have to watch my best friend die over and over and over again, at least you’re there by my side. at least you’re the constant hope that’s here keeping me grounded.” taehyun cupped your cheek, pausing to take a shaky breath.

briefly, he glanced over to your nightstand where your confession letter laid next to your unmade bed. “it’s funny, february thirteenth—god, that feels like a lifetime ago—there was a singular shooting star that night. i was with kai and he was egging me on to make a wish. ‘to always be by his side,’ i wished, ‘to be his best friend forever and to keep him safe. to stay in his moment of happiness where nothing can even fathom touching us.’” taehyun let out a wry laugh before continuing. “the night he first died, i prayed for a miracle, for something, anything. screamed at the sky at the fact that shooting stars were pointless.”

he looked back to your eyes, a glossy layer covering his own. you quietly inhaled at his vulnerability, it all taking you off guard despite the amount of times you’ve seen him cry now. you intertwined your hands together, like you’ve done for the past four loops.

“i know now that shooting stars don’t fly for me. that miracles are one in a million. but despite all of that, you still give me hope. and i know that no matter what happens, we’ll still see each other again,” taehyun concluded. tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes and taehyun brought his hands back to your cheeks softly.

it was as if time moved in slow motion, taehyun moving towards you. when his lips pressed to yours, it was as if all the stars had aligned. you felt the morning sun heat your skin through your open blinds. he was wrong, shooting stars did fly, and they flew for the both of you.

when you both pulled away, slightly out of breath, you couldn’t help the smile that was on your lips. “i made a wish too,” you said quietly, just loud enough for him to hear. “that no matter the outcome, no matter if you accepted my confession or rejected it, you’d continue being the person i grew feelings for. that your smile would always light up a room and bring joy to all of those around you. that i’d get to see your smiling face, full of happiness, everyday. that you’d always be happy.” as you spoke, the smile on taehyun’s face only grew wider, warming your heart and proving your point.

“shooting stars do fly for you, i’ll make sure of it if i have to. and you’re right,” you booped his nose slightly making him giggle, “we will see each other again. and you’ll see hueningkai again on a day that isn’t this dreaded godforsaken day. i’ll make sure of it.” taehyun pulled you in for another kiss just as chaewon entered. the two of you didn’t mind her, pulling each other closer.

“ten minutes,” chaewon called. at this point, you didn’t even need her announcements. you had the time down to a science. you looked to hueningkai, “you’re gonna live. i promise you that.” he looked over to you, a wide and wishful smile spreading across his face. how you wished that he and chaewon could remember the loops with you and taehyun. the four of you had grown so close given the circumstances that it made you sad that the slate got erased each time. but, it also made you happy. once you were all out of this time loop you could start anew, fresh. at least, in a way.

no doubt this time loop will always follow you and taehyun, like a ghost clinging to your shoulders. i mean, it’s been all you’ve known for so long, how could it not? you just hope you’re able to move past it and finally live normal lives.

“i hope so!” hueningkai exclaimed. you felt it deep inside. this time, your plan was gonna work. hueningkai downed the small case of energy drinks, cringing at the taste of them, and laid back down. he nodded at you and taehyun, signifying he was ready. “five minutes,” chaewon spoke, passing her phone to taehyun. you gave taehyun a smile. it was going to work this time.

the pillow came down and hueningkai’s body stilled as there were two minutes until midnight. you and chaewon brought him to the floor and the three of you crowded around his body. taehyun took your hand, giving it a squeeze, as you looked at each other. chaewon began cpr.

ten seconds until midnight and counting, chaewon shouted that she had a pulse. five seconds until midnight, hueningkai gasped in a breath of air and his eyes fluttered open. for the first time in all of the five hundred and fifty-five loops you’ve been through, you watched as taehyun cried tears of happiness. the three of you pulled hueningkai into your arms, laughing with joy at the fact that he was still alive.

“it’s 12:01am,” hueningkai’s raspy voice spoke as he pointed to chaewon’s discarded phone next to you all. you let out a gasp as you and taehyun stared at each other with wide eyes. “we did it,” he spoke, disbelief rounding the edges of his voice. “we did it!” you echoed, a large smile breaking out on your face. you bent down and hugged hueningkai, “you’re alive!”

you felt a pull deep within you, and the next thing you knew, you were waking up in your dorm room again. confusion pulled your brows and you stood to your feet slowly, looking at the confession letter on your nightstand in slight horror. no, this couldn’t be. this was impossible.

taehyun burst through the door of your room a minute later, not even bothering to knock, with a sleepy hueningkai behind him. chaewon was a close second behind them. with wide eyes, taehyun exclaimed, “he remembers! the time loop, he remembers!”

“i remember too!” chaewon laughed. you all let out shocked laughs, not quite sure how else to react. the four of you fell into a group hug. you would kill to see an outside perspective of all of this. four frazzled college students in their various pajamas with the weight of the world on their shoulders, seeing things that nobody else has seen before. it would sure be a sight to behold.

“so is this just a regular day then?” hueningkai asked, his voice muffled between the layers of clothing. “we get through today and tomorrow will finally not be valentine’s day?” you laughed as you pulled away, the others doing the same. “we just gotta get through today!”

taehyun turned to hueningkai, “you will not be leaving my sight today. we don’t need to enter another time loop.” hueningkai laughed and just nodded, a smile lingering on his lips. “what’s another day indoors?” chaewon smiled.

you all spent the day in taehyun and hueningkai’s dorm instead of you and chaewon’s. you all desperately needed the change of scenery. at one point, you all became curious to see if anybody else remembered the last loop besides the four of you. hueningkai managed to convince taehyun to let him roam around the dorms with chaewon to find out, “i just can’t say no to him,” taehyun had said.

when the two of you were alone in the dorm room, you pulled your confession letter out of your bag and presented it in front of taehyun. he laughed a little, “what are you doing?” you smiled, pushing it towards him more. “will you be my valentine?”

taehyun took the letter and opened it, like he did so many times before that he could read every word by heart. tell you where each spec of glitter resided on the pink paper. he read over the letter one more time, mock surprise and shock on his face. “i like you too, of course i’ll be your valentine.” he pulled you in for a gentle kiss, smiling against your lips as you giggled.

“will you be my girlfriend?” taehyun asked once you pulled away. your smile widened, “i don’t know… maybe you’ll have to ask me over and over and over for me to decide.” he playfully rolled his eyes at your teasing. “i’ve liked you since the beginning, you know. you didn’t think i didn’t notice you staring at me in class? sitting just in the right seat so i’m always in your view?” you face heated tremendously and taehyun laughed as his thumbs brushed over your warm cheeks. “you didn’t notice that we were always in at least one class together? how no matter where one of us sat, we could still see each other?”

you pressed your lips to his to shut him up, not needing any more embarrassment. “i’ll be your girlfriend,” you chuckled as you pulled away. “it’s already bad enough you remember the early loops—god, i’ll never live that embarrassment down!”

“it was cute to see how much you liked me! i only rejected you because i had to focus on saving kai. if we weren’t in that stupid time loop we would’ve been together ages ago!” taehyun said, causing you to smile warmly at him. you laid your head on his shoulder and he laid his head on top of yours. “you know, at the campfire party, i was gonna ask you out but you spoke before i could and the loop restarted before i could say anything.”

you pulled away and whipped your head to face him, “what?” you urged him to explain himself. laughing, taehyun said, “yeah! when the letter magically flew into my hands? i had came up to you to ask you out but you assumed i was there to reject you again, which i mean, i don’t blame you for…” you looked at him in shock.

shoving taehyun lightly, you gasped in disbelief before pulling him towards you into a kiss. the door to his dorm jiggled dramatically, causing you both to pull away with a laugh. chaewon and hueningkai came into the room with shielded eyes. “you both decent?” chaewon asked. you just shook your head at them which chuckling, “we weren’t doing anything, assholes.” they uncovered their eyes and stepped further into the room, closing the door.

they sat down in front of you, giving each other a look and then high-fiving. you raised an eyebrow at them. “finally the two of you got together! chaewon and i were talking and it’s ridiculous how you both didn’t see how much you liked each other,” hueningkai said. you looked over to taehyun to see him roll his eyes, a small smile on his face.

the four of you stayed in the dorms for the rest of the day, hanging out and chatting together. you were happy you were getting to know them better, even if you did slightly freak them out with information they technically never told you about.

you were all leaned over chaewon’s phone, five minutes until midnight. taehyun’s eyes were on kai like a hawk and you could tell kai was nervous too by the way he kept fidgeting with the string on his pajama pants. “deep breaths everyone, everything is gonna be okay,” you said encouragingly. inhales we’re heard around the circle and the tension started to lift a little.

“ten seconds,” chaewon announced. you all watched as the numbers climbed to midnight, and then to 12:01 and 12:02 and all the way to 12:05am. taehyun let out a long sigh of relief, closing his eyes briefly. “thank god, i’m starving!” kai said. you and chaewon jumped to your feet in excitement. “we fucking did it!” you shouted in celebration, pulling the two boys up to join you. you pulled the polaroid camera from out your bag and snapped a picture of the four of you, needing to cement this occasion forever.

“finally, february fifteenth, i could kiss the ground you walk on!” taehyun murmured, pulling you all into one big hug. you held onto them all. you had all made it, together. you tightened your grip on them, and you were never letting go.

© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

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[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 20: You Were There

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV, Rosemary (OC) POV.

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twenty of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 7.9K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this one 18+ just to be sure. Angst, Cursing, Fluff, References to Past Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Family Problems, Self-deprecating thoughts, Awkward Situations, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

*********************************************************

Reader POV

“Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? I’m not too heavy?” You ask cuddling into Ben.

He was leaning against the antique wooden headboard with you laying  against chest, his body curving around your back where the two of you were entwined together. Your knees were pulled up in front of you, with Ben’s legs stretched out long on either side of your hips while the photo album you brought was perched on your thighs. His arms were wrapped firmly around your waist, head looking over your shoulder where you rested back against his toned stomach and muscular chest. He was warm and perfect, the hardness of his muscles contrasting against the softness of your curves, causing you to relax deeper against him as you laid there together, and making you feel like you belonged there with him, like he was made just for you and you were made just for him. You couldn’t remember feeling this relaxed in a long time and couldn’t believe that you forgot how good it felt to be in his arms.

It was the first time that the two of you had tried anything like this, besides the morning you woke up with him after your birthday with your head on his chest, the morning when you told him you loved him and everything fell apart. But you weren't thinking about that right now, you weren't thinking about Countess, or the past, all you were thinking about was being  present in the moment with him. You thought that after everything that had happened in the past 24 hours you deserved that. You both deserved that.

The house was quiet, everyone had gone to bed except Rosie, who you knew was awake because you heard the gentle rustle of pages every few moments and you knew that she was reading one of those worn paper backs that she always carried around with her. Each weekend she would drag you and Lou to her favorite used bookstore, Inky's Inspirations, where she would browse through dusty shelves looking for treasures while Lou sat in the kids section flipping through the picture books giggling, and while you sipped an iced coffee and avoided the romance sections where there were countless Vought published Soldier Boy fictional romance novels. The ones that Stan Edgar and Legend thought would enhance Ben's image as America's Heartthrob and make him more “readily available” to the people of United States, and despite Ben’s initial protests,  you knew that Ben liked them because no matter the book, the descriptions of Ben’s naked body were gratuitous.

Honestly the descriptions were rarely exaggerations. You think to yourself feeling the way Ben’s muscular body curves around you leaving very little to the imagination.

Well. Not exactly little. Your cheeks heat with the thought, heartbeat spiking and hoping that he couldn’t hear it.

But you figured that Rosemary needed at least a few pages to escape tonight.

No, I’m not thinking about her or what she snarled at Ben and I’m determined to make him forget it too.

So now you were focused on Ben, how he was holding you close, molding his body around yours and making you feel safer than you ever had. And although the two of you had shared a bed almost every night since you were ten, when you would fall asleep and wake up in his arms the next morning, this felt new. New because every loving kiss he pressed to your shoulder made you feel light, new because each time Ben moved or flexed you couldn't help but feel your cheeks warm, and new because every few moments you remembered that Ben genuinely wanted to be there with you, that he loved you just as much as you loved him and had loved you all these years.

“Sweetheart you’re not too heavy. You’re perfect.”

“Not everyone has super strength-“ You bite the inside of your cheek, plucking your thumb against the front cover of the photo album in your lap.

Ben adjusts you in his arms to pull you further on top of him. “It’s not about having super strength honey. You’re perfect. Have been since we were kids and you’re just as beautiful now as you’ve always been.” Ben traces his lips down your throat, beard scratching against the sensitive skin. He had kept his promise about keeping it just for you and you were definitely reaping the benefits. He moves his mouth slowly back upwards so he can brush them against the curve of your ear breath hot against your skin. "And I love having you on top of me doll."

A shiver travels down your spine. “But-“

“No buts. Well unless we’re talking about yours, which is really-.”

“Ben!” Your face turns bright red.

“What? You’re sexy as hell.” Ben purrs tightening his grip on your body, nudging his nose into the shadow of your jaw, and you feel his smile against your skin.

It's not a word that you had heard anyone use to describe you often. The one time you’d heard it was when you’d told Ben that you’d never been with anyone before. You were beautiful, cute, but never sexy.

However the night you and Ben slept together for the first time you felt it, felt sexy the whole night you were with him, powerful because it was you making him fall apart, your name on his lips, you touching him while he looked at you like you were the only woman in the world.

"Sweetheart?" Ben raises his hand from your waist to your chin, turning your face so you're looking at him over your shoulder.

"Hmm?" You whisper lost in the memory of what it was like for him to make love to you.

Probably shouldn't be thinking about that while I'm laying on top of him.

"How many others have there been?" He almost murmurs it, eyes soft in the warm light from the lamp on the bedside table. It was the same question he asked you when you stood outside Rosemary's apartment building, the one that you avoided.

You don't answer immediately.

"Are you afraid to tell me?" Ben whispers with a frown, stroking his thumb over your cheekbone. "That you think I won't want you if you've been with someone else. That I won't love you anymore? That I'll leave you again?"

"Ben-" You breathe.

"I know that you're still trying to forgive me, and that's okay, but I don't want you to be afraid to talk to me or tell me things Sweetheart. I know you don't believe me, but I never want to leave you again. I want to be here with you." His gaze is earnest.  "And I know you keep saying how much it'll hurt you if I leave again, but I swear that if you left it would destroy me."

"Ben-" Tears burn in your eyes with his confession, seeing how he was opening up to you, willing to push past what he'd been conditioned to believe from his father about sharing his feelings, to assure you further how much you meant to him.

His hand drags through your hair gently brushing it back from your face. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You reach back over your shoulder, turning your face into his, noses nudging together as you kiss him.

“No.” He shakes his head softly. “I really love you.”

You snort, smiling into his mouth, your hand curling in his hair. “How is that different?”

“When I came back you said that I didn’t know what love was, but I do. Love is you. You make me so happy. I don’t remember being happy ever except when I’m around you. I’ve never loved anyone but you y/n. And I’m never going to love anyone else like I love you.”

“Ben-“ Tears crest and fall down your cheeks, but Ben brushes them away with his thumb.

“I would do anything for you without question. Nothing you ask me is too much. You mean everything to me. I don’t want to imagine my life without you in it. I spent forty years without you and I don’t want to spend any amount of time away from you. I’m so sorry.”

“Ben we’ve already discussed your apology. You don’t have to apologize anymore.”

“I just still think I have to. I have to fix this.”

“You have.” You smile at him.

“Yeah?” He looks deeply into your eyes. Ben's arm tightens on your waist pulling you further back into his chest. “So you’re happy?”

The question makes you hesitate.

Am I happy?

You think about the past 24 hours, when Ben made you feel more loved than you’d ever had, when he acted like you were everything he ever wanted, when he made you finally believe that this wasn’t one sided, and when he reminded you of the boy you fell in love all those years ago. When even he was wearing his Soldier Boy suit, he was still looking at you to same way, speaking softly to you, and acting differently than he had. He was trying his hardest to make it up to you and you couldn't describe how wonderful it made you feel.

But then your thoughts shift to Rosemary and Homelander.

Truthfully you’d be happier if Rosemary liked Ben or at least could have a conversation with him without ripping his head off and you’d be happier if you weren’t hiding from Vought and Homelander at Legend’s but-

You focus again on the warmth swirling in the pit of your stomach as Ben holds you close to him, the buzz of love and care that comes with every breath and each kiss. And you answer honestly.

“I would be happier if all this shit with Homelander was over, but I am. Very happy.” You squeeze his arm where it lays over your waist with a soft smile.

“Good. That’s all I want for you. That's all I've ever wanted for you." The look in Ben's eyes breaks you, transports you back to the moment he asked you to come with him all those years ago. When he was the only one who understood that you weren’t happy that the future you had with Howard wasn’t the one you wanted.

"It's all I've ever wanted for you too Ben. You deserve that. You deserve more than you think you do and I want to give it to you."

“You have."

The kiss that follows consumes you, makes you burn, destroys you, and then remakes you. You cannot remember a single moment of your life that has felt this way. He is everything you want and something you thought you'd never have, but yet here he is holding you, proclaiming that he loves you, refusing to go, and you never want him to.

"There hasn't been anyone else." You whisper against his lips.

Ben's body freezes when you say that. "What?" Shock dances in his eyes.

"There hasn't been anyone else. Only you." You smile stroking your hands through his hair. "At first I was busy with Rosemary taking care of her and then by the time I started thinking about it again, it never felt right." You bite your lip, cheeks blushing with your confession. "There was an almost once, someone I knew from the gallery, another artist, but it didn't feel right to use him like that when I didn't feel anything for him. I've never felt this way about anyone else. And even with everything that happened, I still felt like a piece belonged with you.  Maybe I should be embarrassed that I haven't since-"

Ben's mouth closes over yours so fast you don't have time to take another breath, one of his hands holding your face to his while the other wraps around your waist, hand splayed on your hip over your t-shirt your own hand covering his.

"All of you belongs with me." Ben moves his hands possessively over the curves of your hips. "Don't be embarrassed about that Sweetheart." He nips your bottom lip fusing his lips against your all over again, before raising his darkened eyes to lock with yours so intensely that it makes you forget how to breathe. "Because it means that I am your first and your only. That no man has ever touched you, ever made love to you, and that you are completely and utterly mine. As it should be." Ben's gaze meets yours and your cheeks flush as a shiver travels down your spine that he doesn't miss. "Just as all of me belongs to you."

He doesn't stutter, he doesn't look ashamed. He says it so simply, so irrevocably honest that it makes your chest tighten.

The weight of his words settle in the pit of your stomach. It was almost the same thing he had said to you the first time you slept together, and it was true, you were his, didn't want to be anyone else's. And for the first time you actually believed that he was yours and that was enough, he was always enough for you.

“Always.” You whisper back, searching his gaze again. And as soon as you say it you’re scared. A piece of you still waits for Ben to pull away from you, for him to suddenly go cold like he did the day that you told him the three little words that meant the world to you.

Why did I say that? It’s too soon. I should have waited. It’s-

And then Ben is kissing you again like he never wants to stop, breathing you in like a man gasping for air, holding you so tight against his chest that he thinks you’ll fade away to nothing in his arms, and smiling into your mouth as if kissing you is the most wonderful thing he can be doing.

Ben clears his throat lips brushing against yours again. "Sweetheart if you keep saying things like that, I don't think I'm gonna be able to stop. And I know that you want to wait."

Did I? Oh right I did. I did want that. Fuck.

"Yes." You murmur. "I do."

"Didn't sound too convincing there doll." Ben's smirk shifts into a smile, his hand gently cupping your cheek as he kisses you one last time. The heat of his skin was hypnotic, everywhere you were pressed against him felt like it would spontaneously combust. "But I don't want to make love to you if you don’t want me to-"

He stumbles slightly on the words ‘make love’ as if it’s difficult for him, grimacing slightly. But it made you smile. The fact that he was trying not to say 'fuck' meant the world to you. Because it meant that Ben really was trying to make up for the past, really trying to show you how much you meant to him.

"I want you to." You search his eyes, watching them darken with your words, causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin.

You really did. Apart of you again was afraid that it was too soon, that you shouldn’t forgive him this easily for what happened, but deep down you knew that you had. You knew he had changed. You knew that what was happening between the two of you was different this time, that you were different and that he was different.

"I want you to make love to me. I want you to show me how much you love me and how sorry you are." You say, repeating what he said to you the night he came back into your life, continuing to stroke your fingers through the dark hair at the back of his head the way you know he likes earning a soft groan that rumbles up through his chest. "I want you to make me forget that night and forget the past forty years." You kiss him again, pulling back to look him in the eye again. "But I want you to make love to me in our home, in our bed. Not here in Legend's house where God knows what has occurred over the years. Not when we're on the run from Homelander. Not when we have to worry about everyone else hearing us.” Your cheeks flush at the prospect of Butcher or Rosemary hearing you and Ben, both of which had supe hearing.

Because that's exactly what she wants to hear right now.

“I want it to happen when things have calmed down a bit. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.” Ben cups your cheek with a gentleness you never knew he possessed. “You said our.” He breathes with a soft smile, causing your own to mirror it.

“I did. Because it is. It’s our home.”

“Does that mean I get to use the hot water?” Ben smirks.

“If you pay the rent I’ll let you do whatever you want.” You snort, but then suddenly realize the weight of what you’d said.

Ben’s eyes glint with his mischievous smirk. “I like the sound of that doll.” But leans his forehead against yours. “As much as I want Butcher to hear you scream my name," He breathes against you lips. “I’m happy to wait for you. Because I don’t want to rush this, don’t want to rush our time together at least not the first time after all these years. I want to take my time with you.” Ben brushes his lips against yours, thumb rubbing over your jaw to hold your face steady. “I want to savor you.”

Ben smirks wider feeling the shiver that travels down your spine. “Sounds like you’d like that doll.”

“Ben-“

“If I didn’t know any better  I’d say you’re excited.” He kisses you again, beard scratching against your cheeks before working his way across your jaw. “That I excite you.” Ben raises his glittering green eyes to yours once more. “You excite me too.”

One of these days he’s going to kill me.

You sit there together for another few minutes, his hand cupping your cheek, forehead pressed against yours, lips occasionally finding one another, as your heart thuds madly in your chest and you find yourself unable to stop the happiness and warmth that circulates through your body. It felt dangerously similar to how you felt the morning you woke up next to him in bed the morning after your birthday when you couldn't stop yourself from saying that you loved him, but now you welcomed the feeling.

"Can I show you the pictures now?" You breathe.

"Yeah." Ben smiles against your mouth as he kisses you one final time, before leaning back against the headboard and releasing his hold on your face so you can cuddle into him with the photo album perched on your lap once more.

Truthfully your collection of photos had grown exponentially from the small box beneath your bed to a collection of photo albums that lined the bookshelves in your living room at home. This one you had grabbed on the way out of your apartment, shoving it into your suitcase as you went. It held a good amount of pictures from when Rosemary was born to when she got married, and you knew it would be a perfect record of the life Ben had missed when he was in Russia.

"Before I open this," You say quietly, leaning back into him. "I want you to know that I'm only showing this to you because I want you to experience what it was like the past forty years. It is not to make you feel bad for not being there. I want to share this with you, but if you're going to get upset, then I don't want to-"

"Please show me." Ben tightens his arms around your waist again, sitting his chin on your right shoulder so he can see the book perched on your knees.

The picture on the first page is you standing in front of a two story house built out of grayed boards with a collection of white painted wooden steps leading up to a beautiful porch where two wicker chairs sit. A large garden dominates the lawn on either side if the cobblestone path that you stand on which leads to the house behind you. Wildflowers, roses, sunflowers, lavender, daisies, and herbs explode all over the front lawn, curling onto the cobblestone path. You're smiling in the photo, hair loose and pushed back by a wind that Ben can't see, wearing a loose pair of jeans and a large t-shirt, that does little to hide your swelling belly. Standing next to you is an elderly woman, with gray hair pulled back in a bun under a large gardening hat, wearing a faded green dress, but smiling just as widely as you with her arm over your shoulders.

"When I left New York, I went North and ended up in Maine. It seemed like a good place to disappear.  I had never been before and I found a woman, Melanie, who was renting out a room in her home. Her husband had died years ago, she never had any kids, and really no ties to the supe world.” You smile at the memory of the woman in the picture. Melanie had been more of a mother to you than yours ever had been, gently spoke to you, helped you through a dark part of your life when you found little to be happy about while pregnant with Rosemary. "It took her about ten seconds to realize that I was pregnant, but she never pried about my life or why I was there, what I was trying to run from. She was so different than the people we had been around all those years. She was kind, honest, and warm. She taught me how to bake, garden, and cook. She took care of me when I was struggling to find a reason to keep going. I owe so much to her. She was practically a grandmother to Rosie. Rosie loved her so much.”

"Is she-" Ben breathes softly.

"She died right before Rosie went to college and she left me the house."

"That one?"

"Mhmm. It's a bit different now, but mostly the way she left it. I had to remodel it a bit, it’s honestly almost as old as us.” You snort. “But we usually go for a few months every summer. It's about ten acres on the edge of a forest, with this beautiful forest path that leads out to a private beach. There’s no one for miles. The closest town is at least forty minutes away.”

"I want to see it some day."

"We'll go when all this calms down." You promise as you turn the page.

The next picture is of you standing on a chair holding a paintbrush, eyes focused on the wall in front of you. Your hair is pulled back in a red bandana, and you’re wearing a pair of paint splattered overalls, but you're definitely more pregnant in this picture. And you can't help but smile at the memory this picture brings. "I got this crazy idea to paint a mural on the nursery wall. Had to practically fight off Melanie so she'd let me stand on the chair."

"You shouldn't have been if you were that pregnant-" Ben frowns at you and you smile to yourself at his obvious urge to protect you even if he wasn’t there.

"Well how was I supposed to reach the top of the wall Ben? Not everyone is as tall as you.” You laugh. "It really was a nice mural of the forest outside. Melanie convinced me to do a smaller version on a canvas and have it displayed at the local art gallery. It was the first painting I ever sold. The first check I got that I actually felt like I earned."

You point at the picture next to it of you holding up a slip of paper and smiling wide at the camera. You had been so excited about it that you framed it, refused to cash it. It was still hanging on the wall at the house.

"But you earned money from Vought?" You could hear the confusion in his voice.

"It never felt like my money though. All I did was show up for pictures or appearances in malls or commercials and it never really felt real for me. But getting that check was really special, putting my name on something was real."

Ben presses a kiss to your shoulder. "I'm sorry you were so unhappy being a hero."

"I wasn't unhappy. I was just ready for something new. And I found it in Maine. But if this is making you sad I don't want to show you any more-"

Ben catches your wrist as you try to close the album. "I want to see."

The next picture is of you sitting out on the beach. You were wearing a one-piece red bathing suit, head tilted back in the sunlight, eyes closed drinking in the day. You were probably about seven months along and although you didn't like having too many pictures of you taken when you were pregnant, Melanie had insisted on this one and you liked it. Ben's body stiffens beneath you when he sees the picture, his hand moving from your waist to touch the page softly.

"You like that one?" You whisper.

"Yeah." He murmurs back eyes locked on the photo.

"Why? Because I'm practically naked?" You joke nudging your elbow back into his ribs.

"No. Well maybe a little." Ben's chuckle rumbles up through his chest against your back. "You look different. You're glowing."

"Shut up. Why is that a thing that men say to pregnant women? There is no glow. It's nine months of being so bloated and swollen you feel like a flotation device. Nine months of being so hormonal that you're not sure whether or not you want to laugh, cry, or just stay in bed for days. Nine months of wanting to puke your guts out. And don't get me started on the cravings, I'm pretty sure I would have eaten chocolate covered spiders one day if a traveling salesman showed up on the front porch toting a box!"

Okay. Maybe I'm ranting a little bit.

"It's true sweetheart. And I like the picture, because you look happy." His breath is warm against your ear.

"I was. Everything about being there felt right. I was always relaxed, I felt like I could breathe again, and I found myself there. I really needed that after everything." You lay your hand down where Ben's arm's rests on your waist. "Whenever I go back I always feel that way. I always paint better and feel more creative, just something about that house is almost magical." Your cheeks flush. "I know that sounds stupid."

"No." Ben breathes. "It's not. Why do you live in the city if you like it so much there?"

"Because Rosie lives in the city. Her job is there and they're the only family I have left. I don't want Lou to grow up without having me in her life. And I like being in the city. I like my studio, but sometimes it's nice to go to the house in Maine and forget for a little bit."

The picture on the next page is of you sitting in your  bed at the house, holding a baby wrapped in a knitted pink blanket in your arms, smiling down at Rosemary like she's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. And she was. Melanie had delivered her, you were afraid to go to a hospital because you didn’t want the possibility of someone recognizing you and having an announcement in newspapers. Holding Rosie for the first time was bittersweet, because you were so happy and yet there was a sadness that settled over you. At first you couldn't place it, but now sitting here with Ben you understood what it was. You were sad that he wasn't there to hold her too, sad that he was missing this. Of course back then you thought that he was dead and that the only piece of him that you had left was in your arms.

"I like that one too." Ben mutters leaning further over your shoulder to get a better look.

"The first time I held her. She was so little and I was always afraid that I was going to hold her too tightly and hurt her." You smile. "Melanie delivered her. I didn’t want to go to a hospital and risk someone recognizing me. Honestly she was such a big help after, let me have a few moments of rest whenever everything got to be too much. And I was so tired for so long-"

"I'm sorry."

"Ben what did I say about you apologizing for things out of your control?" You press a kiss to his cheek where he is leaning over your shoulder, his beard tickling against your lips.

"I know. I just, I still wish that I could have been there."

“Honestly, you kind of were.”

Ben looks confused. “What?”

“Rosemary’s just like you Ben. When she was younger, she’d get this mischievous look in her eye and I knew that trouble was coming. It was the same one you always had right before you got us in trouble back in Philadelphia. I don’t even want to think about the teen years. And the college ones, forget it.” You groan. “Lou gets the same glint in her eye sometimes. I’m sure you’ll see it.”

“I think she’s like you.”

“What?” You turn to look at him.

“I mean sure she’s got my hair and my eyes, but she’s strong. She doesn’t bend easy. Stubborn-“ Ben smiles.

“You’re stubborn-“

“Not like you.”

“Oh please.” You roll your eyes at him.

“She’s got your smile.” Ben traces his thumb over your lips, cupping your chin gently. “And she’s just as beautiful as you.”

You flush with the compliment. “She's got your protective instincts. She doesn’t let anything slide.”

“I’ve noticed.”  He frowns and it makes your heart break for him.

“I promise one day she’ll warm up to you.”

“I know. I just wish it was today.” Ben sighs, brushing your hair back from your face. “Was it hard to raise her alone?”

“Sometimes.” You answer honestly. “But Melanie helped a lot.”

“I’m so-.” Ben begins.

“If you say I’m sorry one more time I swear I’m going to  kick you out of this bed!” You joke, but you both know the threat holds no power. Not when it feels this good to be in his arms.

 “You're here now." You whisper, softly running your hand over where his arms hold you tight against him. "And that's all that matters to me."

He turns his face to look at you, chin still on your shoulder, green eyes so soft they remind you of grass on a warm summer day. "I don't want to be anywhere else Sweetheart."

"Good." Your heart flutters in your chest, and Ben smiles when he hears it, his own thudding in his chest against his rib cage so hard you can feel it where it's pressed against your back.

And this time as you begin to fall, you know that he's going to catch you.

*************************************************

Rosemary POV

Rosemary tried to read through her book, tried to drown out the sound of her mother and her supposed father in the lower parts of the house with the smooth flow of words on the written page in front of her, but she couldn't. She found herself reading the same sentence over and over again while Lou slept in the bed beside her, her small body curled into a ball wearing her favorite pink polka dot pajamas beneath the gaudy bright red and gold comforter that only a man would choose for a bedroom.

Legend was exactly as she remembered him, eccentric like an old rich uncle that you'd never met but somehow remembers to send you a check each year for your birthday. But she could see how much Legend cared about you and that made him family, distant family, but still family. She knew what Legend had done for you after Ben left, how Legend had helped you through the weeks that followed Ben's death, helped you close all your bank accounts, and help you vanish without a trace. He kept your secrets from Vought and didn't question when you had showed up again toting someone you said was your cousin, but looked like Ben.

Rosemary sighs, hands tightening on her book as she listens to Ben and you talk quietly in the basement. She heard every word that Ben said to you, every promise that he made, every kiss that he laid on your lips.

The truth was, Rosemary didn't want to hate him and maybe she really didn’t, but she was still angry.

When she was a child her imaginary friend was Ben, or rather the version of Ben that you told her about, the one that was always there for you as a child, who climbed in your bedroom window, and the boy who was your best friend. Although she had you, Rosemary was lonely, not allowed to go to school with other children because of her abilities, not allowed to make friends until she was older, and not allowed to go into town. She didn't resent you for that, she understood that you did those things to protect her, just as she did those things to protect Lou, but to get through those lonely days she spoke to Ben or rather the version of him that lived in her head.

The one that was kind, who laughed at her jokes, sang with her to bad karaoke songs, who danced with her in her room to songs that you yourself called "noise" and looked at every one of the ridiculously bad paintings that she created and lied, telling her that they were masterpieces.

But that version didn't exist. And the real version she met a few hours ago was not what she expected. He looked, normal, wearing jeans and a t-shirt, with his dark hair falling forward into his eyes. Soldier Boy looked just like anyone else you'd see on the street, handsome yes. Anyone could see that.

Whenever you would leave the house to go to the grocery store and Melanie was asleep, Rosemary would sneak into your bedroom, lounge on your bed and look through your box of photos. Seeing the ones of you as a child with your own mother, seeing the ones of her grandparents together, the photos of Ben and you together as heroes, and finally the yellowed collection of photos from a photobooth of Ben and you as teenagers smiling and laughing. She loved that collection of photos, loved how happy you looked with Ben, and loved how happy he seemed to be. It was one of the only pictures you had of the two of you as children that Rosemary could find, but that made it all the more special to her.

She wanted you to be happy. And before you had told her the story of what happened between you and Ben, Rosemary, as a child, had imagined Ben showing up after all those years, walking up the worn front steps of the house that always creaked, through the front screen door that always slammed no matter how softly you shut it, and into the house so the three of you could be a family.

All children want that. Want a family that feels whole.

And although Rosemary never met Ben before she had the oddest feeling as a child that there was something missing. She hoped that Lou didn’t feel that way about her family.

Rosemary sighs and allows her book to fall down on her chest, trying not to think about the photos or Ben or her mother. She knew she wasn't going to get any sleep. Whenever she closed her eyes all she saw was you standing in the hallway outside her apartment holding the hand of the man who ruined your life, who abandoned you and broke your heart.

How can she just forgive him like that? How can she just pretend that nothing happened? That he didn't break her? That he didn't say any of those things?

Rosemary couldn't understand and deep down underneath it all, she was afraid. Not of Ben, she didn't believe that he would physically hurt you, if he did or tried to she would rip him in half, but of what he could do to you.

She could see how different you were and he'd only been back in your life for a day. She saw how you looked at him, how you seemed to smile more, how you seemed to almost shine when he looked at you. She'd never seen you look so utterly and completely happy before. Sure you'd been happy, but it didn't mean that Rosemary didn't worry about you, because she did. She worried that you were lonely, that you weren't allowing anyone into your life because you were still broken, and she could see the cracks that you tried to hide from everyone else, the cracks that had been there as long as she'd known you, the same ones that Ben left behind when he threw you away like you meant nothing to him.

The problem Rosemary saw when she looked at you now, is that she could see those cracks slowly fading, and she was worried what would happen if Ben abandoned you again.

Maybe that's why she couldn't forgive him, because of how easy it was for him to treat you that way.

Rosemary stops to listen to you talk softly to him about the life you and Rosemary had and could hear the telltale flip of the pages of the photo album.

Even though she was angry with Ben, she couldn't believe how patient he was being with you. How softly he looked at you, how he never took his eyes off of you, not in a possessive way, but in a protective way, like he was willing to throw himself in between you and whatever or whoever tried to hurt you.

She also wasn't expecting to look so much like him. Sure Rosemary had seen pictures, watched every single one of Soldier Boy's films, music videos, and commercials to learn more about him. But in person was different.

Rosemary sighs, drumming her fingers against the cover of the book on her chest.

She just didn't want you to get hurt again, didn't want him to hurt you, didn't want to let Ben into her life either if he was just going to vanish all over again.

Rosemary's eyes drift to where Lou sleeps silently. She wasn't happy with how comfortable Lou was getting around Ben, because again, if Lou started to rely on him too and Ben just left it would break Lou.

She huffs out a breath, settling down into the unfamiliar bed. Her thoughts drift to Homelander. Rosemary wasn't afraid of him, one touch would make her just as unstoppable as him, but she was worried about you.

She was always worried about you. When you told her that you were going to Russia to get Ben, Rosemary felt her heart stop. She didn't want you to go alone, and she certainly didn't want you to expose yourself to the world, not after everything she had done to keep you hidden.

Rosemary's jaw tightens. There were things she hadn't told you, things that she did to protect you just as you had protected her and Lou, things that if you ever found out wouldn't understand. Sacrifices were necessary and a deal had to be made to ensure that you were safe.

And now that Ben was back and Homelander knew about you, Rosemary wasn't sure how long those secrets could stay hidden.

*********************************************

Soldier Boy POV

Ben trailed his hand softly up and down your back holding you closer to him where you were laying on his chest. Your head was directly over his heart, hair fanning out behind you, breathing evenly while you slept.

Ben smiled to himself. It was better than he remembered. Ben could feel any anger he still had about the past fading with each breath you took. While your soft sighs and the gentle beat of your heart lulled him into a calm that he hadn't felt in forty years. 

He couldn’t remember a time where he felt so happy, but he knew that it was probably the last time he held you like this. The morning that you told him you loved him and all he wanted was to say it back to you.

Ben tenses for a moment as the shame comes back over him in a never ending wave as he thinks about what he did to you, but now it’s lessened. You said that you’d forgiven him, and Ben believed you, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to do everything he could to make you happy everyday the rest of your life.

The sunlight was peaking through the floor length curtains on the edges of the room, sending a gentle light over the bed.

But he didn't want to wake you up, not yet, not when you were holding on to him like you thought he would vanish, not when you looked years younger in the sweet relief of sleep, and not when Ben wanted to stay in bed just a little longer.

This was exactly what he wanted every day for the rest of his life, to exist here with you, feeling your soft curves against his broad chest, hearing your heart beat steadily in your chest, and feeling your hair tickle just under his chin. It was what he dreamed about when he was in the lab, getting back to you, being with you again, and now that he had it, he wasn’t going to let it slip through his fingers ever again.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head before he can stop himself continuing to rub your back just as gently as he had before.

You sigh softly, mouth twitching into a smile as you cuddle further into him, the arm you have thrown over his chest tightening just for a moment.

Someone knocks at your door and before Ben can do anything, Rosemary walks in.

“Mom I need to talk to you about-“ She stops, eyes focusing on Ben and your intimate position.

Could be worse. We could be naked.

Ben’s not sure what to do. He hadn’t expected her to hate him so much, hadn’t expected her to have the reaction she did as soon as she laid eyes on him for the first time.

At first he had been frustrated with himself for not being there angry because he had been away from you when you needed him the most. And when he realized how much Rosemary hated him, he’d turned that frustration on you. Yelled at you because you’d told Rosemary what had happened between the two of you.

He hadn’t meant to do that again, to lose his temper like that. Not to mention he figured that Rosemary could hear everything that he’d shouted at you.

He understood that he needed to calm down and give her time, but he wanted her to like him and he knew that he wasn’t the most patient person. He was trying to be better for you.

He’d never liked his old man and look how he’d ended up? He didn’t want to have that kind of relationship with his kid, and especially didn't want to have that kind of relationship with Rosemary because he saw how close you were with her. And he worried that if he couldn't get Rosemary to like him that you'd pull away from him, push him out of your family and then he'd be alone all over again.

She said that it was your family too.

Ben thought to himself remembering last night, when you showed him what the past forty years had been like while curled up against him. He remembered every photo, every story you told him, while you smiled, kissed him and made him feel like he was there with you all those years. He wished he was, but it was the next best thing, because you weren't looking at him like you were afraid he was going to leave, you were looking at him the same way he remembered the morning after you made love and it made him feel hopeful.

But right now watching Rosemary frown at him and you, that hope was sizzling up like an egg on a hot day.

"Um. Good morning." Ben half-smiles, but Rosemary doesn't return it.

You begin to stir on his chest, squeezing him just a little harder as you do as if to reassure yourself that he's there, before you blink open your eyes to stare at him.

Ben's gaze flicks down to yours.

"Morning." You sigh happily, pressing a kiss to his chest right over his heart and nuzzling your face into his soft t-shirt. For a moment Ben forgets that Rosemary is standing there and can't help but smile back at you.

"Morning Sweetheart." He whispers, brushing back some of your hair from your face.

Rosemary clears her throat loudly, before crossing her arms over her chest.

Ben watches you realize that she's there. You sit up and turn towards the doorway that leads into the basement bedroom.

"Rosie hi." Ben can hear the anxiety in your voice and he hates it. He wanted to let you asleep just a little longer so you didn't have to deal with this so soon.

"I have to talk to you."

"Oh okay." You sit up and adjust so that you're sitting beside Ben rather than on top of him. "What is it?"

Rosemary's eyes flick to where Ben is sitting next to you. "Alone."

Ben feels his chest tighten when she says that and tries to fight the sigh that builds behind it.

Can't she see that I'm trying to make up for everything? That I am trying to be better than I was?

He can feel the anger and frustration coming back, washing away the calm he felt when he woke up with you on his chest, causing his feelings of happiness to evaporate once more.

You glance over at Ben for a second, with an apology in your gaze, before you look back at Rosemary. "Okay. Give me a minute. I'll meet you on the porch."

"Sure." Rosemary waits a second as if there's something else she wants to say, but she thinks better of it and leaves, her footsteps soft against the stairs.

"Ben I'm sorry-" You begin to say, but he sighs.

"It's alright Sweetheart."

But deep down it doesn't feel alright, and Ben can't help but feel a little disappointed by all of this.

"Baby." You whisper, touching his cheek softly to turn his face to yours.

He's never prepared for the way it feels when you touch him, even just the slightest brush of your fingers against his skin sends him into overdrive. It's never been this way with anyone, just you, and he never wants to get used to the way your touch makes him burn.

"I know when you're lying." You press your forehead against his, and Ben can't help but wrap an arm around your waist to pull you closer against him.

"I know."

"I promise that this is going to get better. Okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll see you in a little bit?" You nudge your nose against his, smiling against his mouth.

"Yeah. I think I'll take a shower."

"Good, because you're still smell like drywall and smoke."

"Shut up." Ben rolls his eyes at you, but he can't help but smile.

"But-" You press your lips against his, making his entire body feel like it's on fire, your lips soft and supple against his, making a pleasant buzz vibrate in his chest. "You also smell a little bit like me."

"You like that doll?" He murmurs.

"I fucking love it." You kiss him one more time, tangling your hands in his hair, fingers brushing against his hair just like you know he likes and he can't help but groan softly.

Sometimes he didn't believe that you were real, that you cared enough to pay attention to what he liked, that you remembered everything about him, and that you saw all the pieces of him that he tried to hide beneath the bravado he forced himself to adopt long ago so that he was the version of the man his father wanted him to be. But now he wanted to be the man that you wanted him to be and he would be.

And somewhere deep down he knew, that you just wanted him to be him, and that would be enough.

****************************************************

A/N: It's a whole lot of fluff until the ending and I'm so sorry for how sad it got. But hopefully in the coming chapters Rosemary really will try to get to know him and will try to forgive Ben.

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[starlostseungmin]

a wedding and an unexpected meeting — han jisung.

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　best man!han x fem!reader (she/her pronouns).

SUMMARY: 　you caught his attention during the wedding ceremony and after that, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

GENRE & WARNING/S:　 fluff, strangers-to-lovers, han and reader’s characters are inspired by charles and carrie, han is smitten, skz members that were mentioned and the reader are in their late 20s, alcohol consumption, swearing, a few paragraphs of kissing, inaccurate description of places maybe? semi-proofread, lmk if i missed one.

WORD COUNT: 　4.1k

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　inspired by four weddings and a funeral, if you haven’t watched it then you should! also note that the places mentioned are inaccurate, so please don’t mind everything. dedicating this to @starseungs for surviving a bad week and to han for it is his birthday today !! don’t forget to reblog and leave feedback.

“Don’t be such a doofus! Go and talk to her!” Jisung heard Hyunjin say after he kept banging his head on the pole of a random tent at the reception. 

He’s been greeting everyone and received congratulatory messages that would later be relayed to his brother. With all smiles and handshakes, the draining social interactions, and trying to keep up with the conversation, Jisung just wanted to have his forehead get struck by the pole but then, the “you” situation happened. It created this burning urge inside of him that he wanted to make a move yet your presence being his top priority, he couldn’t move at all. 

“What if she won’t like me?” Jisung answered with doubt in his voice as he looked at Hyunjin worriedly. “I’m such an awkward person! You know I never approached someone before!” He added, grabbing Hyunjin’s collar making the latter almost spill his glass of champagne. 

“The woman won’t eat you alive Han! Man up.” Hyunjin groaned, trying to get his friend’s grip off from his expensive suit. 

“Easy for you to say! You’re handsome and people would swoon over you. I am surprised that you’re still single in your late 20s.” Jisung retorted as Hyunjin glared at him and sighed. 

“So what?” Hyunjin argued, rolling his eyes in annoyance. 

“Are you sure you won’t use your face to get laid tonight?” He asked with those eyes filled with sadness for his dear friend. 

“I don’t give a fuck about dating and leave my hopeless romantic ass alone so go ahead and make yourself useful or something!” Hyunjin shooed as he pushed Jisung away from him. The younger boy scoffed at him while fixing his white blazer and went ahead. 

“Such a waste of potential!” Jisung told him but Hyunjin just turned his back away and left the pole. 

It is indeed a special day for everyone in the reception but to Jisung, it’s not just his older brother’s wedding day. He stood at the altar as one of his brother’s best men as the bride glided gracefully through the aisle way back at the church two hours ago. You stood from one of the benches after the maids of honor, wearing that beige dress to match the motif. Jisung saw you there, all beautiful and elegant, a gorgeous creature he had never seen before. It’s not safe to say that it was love at first sight but he was captured by your bewitching presence. He stood there with confidence in the hope that you’d notice him too. Maybe not, for you didn’t know who he was. 

He asked for your name after the wedding ceremony but no one knew as you were new in town. You were clinging to your only friend at the venue, Jeongin whom you shared classes with when you were in college, and yet, he was out there hanging out with his other friends leaving you alone by the fountain. No hard feelings, aside from him, you were there for the bride. 

“Y/N! I’m so happy you could make it.” The bride beamed as she approached you with a hug. 

“Pleasure to be here. I can’t miss your wedding.” You smiled at her. “Congratulations on another chapter in your life!” 

Jisung stopped in his tracks as he stood two meters away from where you and the bride were having a conversation. He was drawn into how soft-spoken you were and the way you laugh is so elegant and classy. He also finds your smile pretty and the way you keep a pleasing eye contact with the bride somewhat makes him want to experience from you as well. A short exchange of words is not your best feature when it comes to socializing but having to understand the fact that you’re not the only guest around is acceptable and it wasn’t long after that the bride left for another guest to entertain as you sat down on the rim of the fountain, sipping on your glass of wine while enjoying the busy sight of people sharing gossip and laughs. 

It was his chance but shame and being bashful made him turn his back on you when the bride left as his heart started to beat faster than normal when he knew he was done waiting for you two to finish. It was crazy how his heart wouldn’t stop jumping as if it was going to rip his chest to get out from the excitement he felt the moment he laid eyes on you back at the church. He doesn’t know what to say to start a conversation and he hates himself for wasting minutes while you sit there, so beautiful in his eyes. But not until you noticed him being uneasy. 

You weren’t dense not to notice him ever since the wedding march started. His eyes were on you instead of the bride but you pretended not to put much thought into it because maybe he was looking at someone else. Another guest went to you and told you about a guy asking for your name but he was called by Jeongin (surprisingly) even before you could say your name. He was also going to approach you first but the bride beat him to it and when it was his turn, he couldn’t move, instead, you could see the shape of his back from where you were sitting. And that’s when you were sure, it was you he was interested about. 

“You know, you’ll never get the girl if you stay still on your spot.” You said making him flinch in response and slowly turning around to face you. 

“H-Hi?” Jisung greeted you with that sheepish smile of his as you stood up from the rim and walked toward him. 

“Hi.” You smiled and oh boy, he was smitten. It was like having to see an angel amid a large crowd. 

“I’m sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable, I’m not a creep or anything. I’m justー” Jisung said, waving his hands in front of you implying that he has nothing but good intentions. 

“No, no, I totally understand.” You said cutting him off and offering your hand for a shake. “I’m Y/F/N (your full name), the bride’s college roommate and you are?” 

“Jisung, but everyone calls me Han. I’m the younger brother of the groom.” He said, shaking your hand and it was so soft that he didn’t want to let go. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you too, Han.” You smiled at him. 

He is cuteーthat you admitーhe also stood out from everyone else as he wore that white blazer among the four other best men his brother had recruited. His long black locks were styled neatly with a bit of his bangs sprayed still on the sides of his face, a white polo shirt inside that white blazer, a cream-colored tie around his collar, the black slacks, and the shoes, he looked neat and attractive. Han didn’t want to leave a bad impression when this day ends and Hyunjin was right, he needed to man up to finally be able to get himself useful to society and flirt. He can’t blame the poor man for not having a lot of experience when it comes to finding a partner, and so do you. 

Despite his feeling of shame and you, not loving to interact with strangers, you are thankful that he came by albeit there was a long pause between you and him. To be honest with yourself, you didn’t know how to start a conversation either but Han most definitely caught your attention as well and you’re happy about it. The loneliness faded into thin air as his smile brought color into your gloomy and colorless solo flight. 

Maybe it was fate that brought the two of you together in the same place at the same event. The sounds of people coming and going, their conversations, the laughter, and the wind were making the atmosphere somewhat entertaining to listen to. Jeongin was talking with his old friends, and Hyunjin was with them. Everyone is busy with their bubbles leaving you and Han together. 

“So uhm, do you know anyone around here?” He asked you, finally breaking the ice. 

“Apart from the bride, there’s Jeongin.” You said pointing at your dear friend using your glass of wine. 

“Oh, you’re with Jeongin? I’m sorry!” He said, upon realizing you must’ve been taken and mentally wanting to slap him square on the face. 

“No!” You giggled. “I mean, not in that kind of relationship. We shared classes in college with the bride so we’re pretty close. We’re just friends and I came here with him.” You reassured as Jisung sighed in relief. “You know him?” You asked. 

“Yeah, he’s a family friend and a business partner. I thought you were together.” He blurted out making you laugh. 

“Oh, but it’s not that.” You smiled, taking a glance at Jeongin from afar. “Actually, it has been a while since the last time we saw each other since he started working and I’m on break from my masters.” You added. 

“Masters?” He asked, feeling intrigued. 

“Yeah, Liberal Arts in a university in (country).” You answered, sipping a few amounts of wine.

“Wow! You’re amazing. So you’re new in town?” Jisung must’ve been entertained in this conversation as he kept getting interested. With such beauty that also possesses a great mind, he is never going to turn his back away from this. 

“Well, you could say that because I have never been outside of Seoul before. It’s my first time to be here in Chuncheon.” You said as Jisung nodded thinking it might be a good chance to know you more. 

“Well, I could show you aroundーI mean…” Jisung wanted to slap himself for being direct and let the ground eat him because of embarrassment but he only earned another laugh from you which made it more degrading but endearing at the same time for he finds it cute. “I mean, if you’re not going to leave for Seoul or if you still have time before your break ends. I swear, nothing creepy though. I mean… uhm… it’s just that…well fuck.” He stammered with a flustered look on his face. 

“I get it, Han.” You giggled at his cuteness making him red as his hands got shaky and cold. “I’ll be back in Seoul by Friday afternoon so that gives you a day left to show me around.” 

“Really?” 

You know it wasn’t right to trust a stranger at first hello but the thing with Han Jisung is just so shielded. He’s the cute guy you met at the wedding and finally pursued a conversation. Not only that, he made a subtle way to ask you out and you answered. Even him got surprised. He wasn’t expecting you’d be up to it immediately. There’s nothing suspicious about those round eyes and cute cheeks with all the stammering and awkwardness. 

“Yeah.” You said. It seemed like you were desperate too but it’s been lonely since you arrived yesterday. Jeongin was with his friends and only accompanied you to dinner because you were too shy to go along with the other guests staying at the same hotel. “But I have to leave in a few minutes since I need to submit some paperwork to my professor before the deadline tonight.” 

“Where are you staying? I can walk you there or give you a rideー”

“It’s fine Han, I’m just at the bride and groom’s hotel until Friday after lunchtime. How about you?” 

“Well, they’re planning to have a yacht party tonight so I’ll be there with my friends and newlyweds of course.” He answered as you gave him a nod. 

“I hope you’ll have fun later.” You smile at him as you take a glance at your wristwatch. 

“Thanks.” He said as he noticed you looking at the time. “Is it okay if I walk you back to your hotel?” He asked as you look at him again. 

“Wouldn’t your brother and friends look for you?” You asked him.

“They wouldn’t. They know I don’t like big crowds and my friend just shooed me away before I came to you.” He said making you laugh again in response and place your empty glass of wine on the waiter’s glass tray who happened to walk by. 

“That wouldn’t be a problem.” You said. 

“Lead the way!” He beamed. 

You knew you had a lot to talk about while you were on your way to the hotel not far from the reception. It was a breezy afternoon and the sun was almost at its peak to welcome the night sky. Han is sure to have a lot of things to share as you listen to him. A long exchange of words happened and it is quite entertaining knowing that you (surprisingly) have a lot in common. He is the type of guy to smile a lot and gets really hyped when excited. You, on the other hand, got smitten with him and found it cute. The jokes he said and the laughs you’ve shared, he’s funny without making any effort. 

When it was your turn to say something about yourself, it came out to be unexpected with all the things you carried from the moment you met Jeongin and the bride. You made him laugh out of your clumsiness, for being forgetful nowadays because you get busy. After all, he can totally relate and tell you he would always carry a piece of paper and a pen with him despite having a notes app on his phone. The story of you being single for a while after a nameless, stupid, irrational guy dumped you during the anniversary of your university way back in college and how flings don’t work on you because the guys you tried to date were all fuckers. Jisung wanted to be different. 

It wasn’t the wine that you had earlier but minute by minute that you spent with him, Jisung became more handsome in your eyes. You could listen to his voice all day without getting tired of it and the fact that he also mentioned that he sings, made your heart leap even more. He came out to be somewhat nerdy but in an acceptable way and he is thankful for letting him talk about a lot of things without getting bored of him. The anxiousness of having a stranger beside you just vanished as you became comfortable with his presence yet you know that he’s not a stranger anymore but a new person you decided to open the door to your life even if it’s just for a short while. 

“Well, this is me.” You said as you both stopped at the entrance of the hotel. 

“It was nice spending some time with you Y/N.” He smiled despite the feeling of sadness he had inside because he didn’t want it to end. 

“Thank you for keeping me company, Han.” You smiled back and he knew he had to leave in a few minutes for the party tonight. 

“Not a problem actually but uhm…” He paused. “May I ask you out tomorrow? I mean, you mentioned you’re not so familiar with Chuncheon so maybe I can show you around? If that conversation and agreement is still valid of course! I mean, I won’t take it to heart if you’re notー” He stopped when he felt your lips on his cheek making him turn red. 

“You may.” You smiled at him as he was utterly speechless. 

“S-so, uhm… will 9 or 10 in the morning tomorrow?” He asked, feeling bashful as ever. 

“9 am would be great. Good night, Han.” 

“Good night.” He said. 

And with you disappearing across the double doors of the hotel’s entrance Jisung almost passed out. His heart was going crazy again but good for him, he finally asked you out. He may want to thank Hyunjin for shooing him away earlier just to get to you but for now, he wanted to keep it sane for himself and let the excitement burst later when he’s alone. A big and cheeky smile is plastered on his face as he takes his way back to the reception to meet his friends so he can get a ride to the yacht party later. 

“Where have you been?” That’s what Changbin asked the moment he arrived, still having that lovesick smile on his face earning a disgusted look from his friends. 

“Yeah, did you finally get laid?” Hyunjin smirked making him slap his arm in response as the smile faded and turned into an annoyed one. 

“With whom?” Jeongin asked, feeling intrigued. 

“Oh shut up you three.” Jisung sighs. “I met a girl, talked to her, walked her back to the hotel, and asked her out.” He said. 

“Finally! You made yourself useful for once, Han.” Hyunjin clapped. “Is it the girl in a beige dress?” He asked as Changbin and Jeongin raised a brow. 

“Yep,” Jisung smiled. “Thank you for leaving Y/N alone earlier, Jeongin, I owe you one.” He added, taking the younger one’s hands and shaking them violently. 

“You were with Y/N?” Jeongin gasped despite his disbelief. 

“Who?” Changbin asked, feeling completely out of place. 

“None of your goddamn business. I’m taking her out tomorrow and perhaps, show her around Chuncheon so you three can go hiking without me. Ha!” Jisung exclaimed and made his way to the car, dancing in joy. The three of his friends looked at each other in amusement and later shrugged the thoughts off to move to the next venue. 

It was already dark when they left the reception after getting everyone’s attention to announce that to those who wanted to attend the after-party at the yacht by the coast. Changbin was driving as Hyunjin and Jeongin were talking. Jisung was surprisingly quiet despite his excitement earlier and he was beating himself upーthinking about giving up the after-party to get back to the hotelーhe couldn’t wait to spend the day tomorrow and he could only decide to meet you halfway from his next destination. It’d be stupid if he’d ask Changbin to stop the car and make an excuse for having an upset stomach when in fact he walked out of the car and went back to the hotel. Hyunjin wasn’t convinced about Jisung being a pathological liar but they let him go anyway. 

Jisung didn’t get scared of the dark when he decided to leave and went straight to your hotel when all of the guests were heading to the yacht. You stayed behind because of the commitment to your masters and you didn’t want to fail. Jisung asked the front desk about your room being out of breath because of the running as you typed into your laptop by the windowsill, trying to get a nice view of this foreign place. You weren’t expecting any unexpected things to happen tonight aside from submitting paperwork not until you heard a knock outside your door. The laptop is soon left unattended on your couch as you make your way to the door and take a peek from the small hole. It was him.

“Han?” You asked, immediately after opening the door for him. 

He was still wearing his suit and was about to knock again. It looks like he was hesitating to get here but there was this unspoken spark and excitement in his eyes that he could not hold it in that’s why he ended up here. Also, he can’t get you out of his mind and seems to have a lot to say to you albeit in the conversation you had this afternoon. Being frozen on his spot, he couldn’t construct the words into sentences the moment you opened the door and just stared at you, thinking what he should say or just let his lips crash onto yours because of his goddamn feelings. He admits, he was curious and drawn into you the time he laid his eyes on you and now he’s here trying to make up the time he wasted after saying good night. 

“Han, what are you doing here?” You asked. “I thought you were going to the after-party.” 

“Changed my mind on my halfway there.” He said. “Well, I know I said I’ll be here tomorrow by 9 but I just couldn’t wait.” 

“What?” You asked again, confused but you couldn’t lie to yourself that you feel the same even though you just met hours ago. 

“Y/N.” He called as he locked eyes with you and there he realized it was indeed love at first sight. “Fuck.” He hissed, feeling his lips onto yours. 

It was unexpected but without hesitation, you returned the kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him inside while he closed the door from behind. His kisses were desperate and longing at first filled with unspoken words as they became tender and exploratory with a hint of excitement and commitment. Your eyes shut at the slam of your lips together, the taste of wine and champagne getting mixed lingered upon the kiss. It was sweet as your lips molded together, feeling each other’s hot breaths at the tip of your noses as it got deeper. 

Your hands reached for his neat hair which was now messy and disheveled as your fingers played with the long strands of his black locks. He snaked his one hand around your waist to pull you closer to his body and let you melt against his kisses while the other hand was placed on your jaw to feel it better. The kiss is tempting and hot. It wasn’t like the kisses you felt before from the guys you allegedly dated, not even close to your first kiss when you were in middle school. Jisung’s kiss is so different as you feel sincerity and fondness. You didn’t want to break it, you wanted to feel a little bit more. 

Jisung doesn’t want to stop either but the fact that kissing someone he just met is a bold and shameful move. He loved your lips at first taste and now you’re getting pinned against your door hearing a loud thud as he continued to move his lips on yours. You hugged him again as he placed his knee between your legs so you couldn’t escape and you didn’t have the intention to. He could feel how eager you were that it made him smirk against your lips and he couldn’t stop himself from it. 

Your hands reached for his collar to pull him closer to yours to feel more although you know it’s not right for you to be this desperate. I didn’t matter anymore. The years of not being able to be kissed properly are something that you don’t deserve and now Jisung is the very first one to make your heart flutter like butterflies, you can’t just let him go after this. He also knew you felt the same the moment you got struck like lightning by his frantic kiss. Again, it doesn’t matter. You want him too, that’s all you both need to know. 

“I want to be with you,” He said, slightly pulling away from your lips upon trying to catch his breath. You locked eyes with him again as you placed a soft kiss on his lips before smiling at him. 

“Isn’t it weird that I want to be with you too?” You asked him as he chuckled in response. 

“No, it’s not.” He said. “Did I interrupt something before I…” 

“No,” You said cheekily and kissed him again. “Are you staying for the night?” 

“If I’m allowed to?” He answered between the kisses.

“You may.” You answered before pulling away. “But what about the party?” 

“I can’t go now that we’re doing this.” He giggled. “Let me stay here for a while. I mean my room is just above this floor so I’ll take some clothes and we can spend the rest of the night together and go on a date tomorrow like we agreed…?” He added as he caressed your cheek, still keeping that eye contact with you. 

“Sure, let’s do that.” You said as he gave you a forehead kiss before excusing himself to go to his room, leaving you all hot and a blushing mess. Meanwhile, he was out there by the hallway dancing while humming his favorite tune and being all smiley about what just happened. 

It is indeed a special day, a wedding, and an unexpected meeting.

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　───　 @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow , @hanjsquokka , @suebin , @starlostastronaut , @stayconnecteed , @myjisung , @arrasuh 　( open. )

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[kingkatsuki]

— late

This was completely inspired by a conversation I had with my friend about her kids.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Warnings: girl dad!Bakugou, established relationship, not proof-read as always.

Word Count: 1.1k.

Juggling family as a Pro-Hero in the top 10 is never easy. No matter what you do to ensure your plans go smoothly, crime doesn’t sleep— especially not when it’s your daughters fifth birthday.

“I hate you!” Is the last thing Bakugou hears before his daughters bedroom door is slammed shut, the silence after is deafening as you watch the colour drain from your husbands face.

His chest still heaving from the speed in which he rushed home, dirt and grime stain his skin as he stands dejected in the middle of the living room. Boots that are usually abandoned at the door trudge filth through your home as Bakugou stands statuesque in place.

“Baby,” You hum, reaching around his frame to bring him closer to you as you rest your chin on his chest to stare up at him, “You know she doesn’t mean that—”

“Course she does,” He rasps, “She said she fuckin’ hates me.”

You can tell from the slight lilt to his gruff voice that your big, strong husband is on the verge of tears. Bringing his arm up to rub at his blackened eyes with the ball of his hand, smearing the eyeliner along his cheekbones.

Bakugou was used to being hated, from the public to the media and the Hero Commission. It was usually something he could brush off with ease, laughing off angry emails or poorly written articles. But it was a different kind of hurt when the words had come from his own daughter.

“She’s hurting right now,” You soothe, tightening your grip on him as his Adam’s apple bobs, “She was just excited for you to be at the party, but she understands—”

Bakugou had booked this day off a year in advance, it was always the first thing he looked at on the calendar, even before your birthday. It was his daughters special day, and he was determined for it to be perfect. Fully embracing whatever theme she’d decided on for her celebrations— this year had been a Barbie theme that had left your home embellished in vibrant pink and glitter that would probably stay embedded into your plush carpets until her next birthday.

He’d spent the previous night carefully wrapping a custom Barbie doll in pretty pink paper as you prepared the house for her party. Bakugou had even picked out an entire hero outfit that was an on brand Barbie pink, instead of his usual colours that he was planning on surprising his daughter with.

But even with all these plans in place, and even arranging backup from his dutiful sidekicks at the agency— the life of a Pro-Hero is never easy. And just as Bakugou was preparing to change into his outfit for his daughters party, he was called into work. An emergency that superseded anyone working at his agency today, as the Hero Commission requested his presence in the field.

It’s not the first time it’s happened, and Bakugou knows it won’t be the last. Even a last minute phone call to Deku to take the lead wasn’t enough to save his day, as the Commission ended up calling both heroes to the scene.

Hours later, he was explosive and inconsolable. Telling the authorities to fuck the crime scene reports and statements as he shoved an unwitting reporter out of his face as their camera crashed to the floor, certain his PR team would be in his inbox about that incident first thing tomorrow morning. But he was completely uninterested in humouring any of them today, not when he could’ve been at home with his family.

Coming in through the front door as he finally realised just how late it was when the house was completely empty besides you and his daughter.

“I should’ve been here, she needed me—”

“The city still needs Dynamight,” You murmured, “What was the situation?”

“Bad,” He grumbled, “Shithead derailed a train in the city, had a group of school kids on it. One almost— the look in his eyes when he was fallin’.“

He trailed off, scrunching his nose as he thought back to the scene. You felt his arms wrap around your shoulders as he clung to you, leaning into your warmth as he tried to calm his racing heart.

“But he didn’t, right?”

He shook his head as you smiled, breathing in the scent of smoke and ash from his quirk as soot covered his body.

“Because Dynamight is a hero.”

“But not to my own daughter.”

“You’ll always be her hero, baby.” You soothe as he leans down to bury his face in the curve of your neck, deeply inhaling the scent of you.

“I’m a terrible dad,” His breath tickles your neck as you pull back to frown at him.

“Don’t you dare say that,” You scrunch your nose in irritation, “You’re the best dad, Kats.”

“If I was, I woulda been here for her.” He scoffs.

“You’re out there keeping us safe, keeping other kids safe. Making sure they get to go home to their dads too.” You cradle his face in your palms to press a soft kiss to his chapped lips.

The sound of little feet coming down the stairs breaks him away from you as you turn to see your daughter, still dressed in her full party outfit, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“Hey, is that my little princess?” Bakugou rasps as she comes towards you both, crouching down to her height and adjusting the pink tiara that sits on top of her head.

“Barbie princess.” She whispers, holding a piece of pink paper out to him as he takes it.

“Barbie princess.” He corrects himself, moving his attention to the words words etched onto the page as he unfolds it.

‘I’m sorry I wouldn’t trade you for any other daddy in the world.’

A smile spreads across your face at the cute sentence as you feel the muscles in Bakugou’s back immediately relax, reaching down to lift your daughter up to hold her to his chest as her small arms immediately circle his neck.

“I’m sorry I missed your party, sweetheart,” He rasps, smoothing her wild hair down.

“I’m sorry too,” She sniffs, “I don’t hate you, daddy.”

Bakugou’s lips curl into a soft smile as he leans forward to press a kiss onto her cheek.

“I love you, princess.” He whispers, nuzzling her cheek with his nose.

“Love you too, daddy.” She smiles.

“But you know you can’t trade me anyway, right?” He frowns, pulling back to meet her gaze, “I’m your daddy and I always will be.”

[sl-ut]

you should probably leave

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

description: joel is enamoured by his new neighbour, but old patterns will always be his downfall.

warnings: UNEDITED, slight age gap, slight smut, implied unprotected piv, protected piv, swearing, alcohol consumption, insecurity, angst, reader is given a birthday (she's a sag like me)

words: 10.8K (my longest fic to date)

date posted: 14/03/23

part two

(inspired by you should probably leave by chris stapleton)

OCTOBER 12, 1998

The weather was something that she was unsure if she could ever get used to. For her entire life, she had spent the entirety of the late autumn months dreading the first snowfall of the season before lugging out her extensive collection of knitted sweaters and fur-lined boots. Instead, her little archive of winter clothing was left in a cardboard box in her childhood bedroom, along with the majority of her other belongings that she had not brought with her on her grand adventure–if you could even call it that. 

The University of Texas at Austin had not been her first choice of school, or her second, or third; she actually had never even imagined going to school any further than a few hours from her hometown in Pennsylvania, and yet there she was, standing in front of her brand-new home, sweltering under the harsh Texan sun as she struggled to unload her packed car all on her own. Well, to call it her home would be a pretty tight stretch, as well as to label it as “brand-new.” 

The small bungalow-style house had caught her eye on a flyer in the grocery store, a listing for one female roommate in a cul-de-sac not too far from the city. It wasn’t exactly her dream home by any means, with an ugly yellow exterior and a kitchen that could certainly use an updating, but it she had recently been forced out of her own apartment due to her previous roommate preferring her boyfriend to live their with her instead and it was the nicest of the few places within her price range that would also accommodate the mutt she’d rescued during her first year. All things considered, it was quite literally perfect for her situation–plus her new roommate seemed to have been at least more considerate of her boundaries than the last, which gave her some hope that things might actually work out. 

Y/n grunted at the weight of the box, cursing herself internally for enrolling in school and owning so many textbooks as she lugged it up the front steps, dropping it just inside the door. She couldn’t help but grimace as she glanced up, meeting the watchful gaze of Manny, his furry little head tilting curiously–likely wondering why she was making so much ruckus and interrupting his nap. 

“Lazy ass,” she muttered under her breath at him, kicking the box to the side before trudging back out the door.

The next few boxes were filled with clothes and shoes, fortunately for her spine. She hauled several out, dropping each of them to the pavement of the driveway carelessly as she wiped at her sweaty forehead, apparently too enthralled in the work to notice the beat up truck as it turned into the neighbouring driveway.

“Hey there,” she turned to find a young man, his hair combed back to expose his effortlessly charming face to her, “You need a hand?”

She glanced down at the boxes at her feet, “I wouldn’t wanna bother you.”

A young girl appeared at his side, wide eyes peering over at the older female curiously. The man shrugged, puffing out his broad chest as he moved. Y/n almost laughed at how obvious he was being, only seconds after meeting her. The man gave off the impression that he had always thought fairly highly of himself, probably the quarterback of the high school football team, maybe even involved in the armed forces–the navy, she was betting. He crossed the barrier between the two driveways in two long strides, extending his hand out to her as he came closer. 

“I’m Tommy,” he flashed her a grin, his accent coming out thicker than it probably would have normally. He glanced over his shoulder, motioning for the young girl to follow him into the neighbouring yard, “This is my niece Sarah.”

Y/n smiled politely, shaking his hand lightly, “Hi, I’m Y/n. I guess it’s nice to meet some of my new neighbours.”

“Well, Sarah, here, is your neighbour. Me, I live–”

“What happened to Stephanie?” Sarah interrupted, “I didn’t know she was moving.”

Y/n turned her attention to the young girl, “She isn’t, we’re just living together now.”

Sarah’s mouth formed an ‘o’, the gears visibly turning in her head as she formulated her next question, “Are you guys dating?”

“Sarah!” Tommy choked on his spit, “I’m sorry–”

“It’s okay,” Y/n chuckled at his response before turning back to the young girl, “No, we’re not. I guess she just didn’t wanna be living here all on her own anymore.”

Tommy’s shoulders relaxed, the mortified expression leaving his features in favour of one that she might have even considered relief. He shook his head at his niece, giving her a hard stare, “I’m sorry about her. I figured that she would have some better manners by now–my mistake.”

Sarah swatted at him, a pout appearing on her lips as her brows furrowed. The girl didn’t quite understand how the question may have been taken with offence by some, and was quite miffed by her uncle’s insult. 

“No, no, it’s okay,” Y/n affirmed, “I think it’s actually a good thing that she knows about that kinda stuff.”

Tommy glanced down at the boxes, clear discomfort appearing on his features, “Alrighty then, how about these boxes?”

Y/n gave in, offering Tommy one of the heavier of the three boxes, while shifting the smallest and lightest to the young girl, who had been adamant in helping out. She instructed them to just drop the boxes to the floor by the door, not looking to take up much more of their time. 

A loud gasp escaped Sarah, her wide eyes falling on the mutt, who had appeared to have been equally as excited to see her as he rushed over, tongue lolling out of his mouth and tail flapping wildly. Sarah squealed when he barrelled into her, a fit of giggles leaving her mouth as he brought her to the ground and began to cover her face in slobbery kisses.

“Manny!” Y/n groaned, grasping the dog’s collar and pulling away enough for Sarah to sit up off of the floor, “Sorry, he’s just convinced that everyone wants to be his friend.”

“I’ll be his friend!” Sarah beamed, reaching out and squishing the dog’s face in between her palms, “I mean… Can I?”

Y/n shrugged, “As long as it’s okay with your…” She glanced at Tommy for help, unsure about Sarah’s parentage situation. He’d already made it clear that he did not live next door, but had never explicitly stated who did.

“You’ll have to ask your dad, Sarah,” He chastised her, “Anyway, we should get out of your hair now, let you settle in.”

Y/n nodded, “Yeah, thank you for the help, though.”

“No problem, ma’am,” He winked, southern charm on full display as he stepped out onto the front step, “Anytime for a pretty girl like you. C’mon, Sar.”

Sarah begrudgingly offered the needy pup one more affectionate squeeze before following after her uncle, leaping off of the step and bounding across to her own front yard. Tommy paused, hand resting on the railing of the step and giving it a firm shake. His lips pursed into a line as he let out a small huh as the bannister shifted out of its place, then back in under the pressure. 

“Yeah, Steph said there were all kinds of little things wrong with the place,” Y/n noted, “But hey, if it’s got four walls and a roof, it’s good enough for me.”

He chuckled at her, shaking his head, “You know, my brother and I are contractors, we could come over and help you fix things up if you guys wanted.”

She hummed, “I’ll mention it to Steph. Wouldn’t wanna just start making changes to her house while she’s not here, would I?”

Tommy hummed, “‘Spose that’s true. Anyway, I should go see where she ran off to, but I sure hope I’ll be seeing you around.” He shot her a cheeky wink before jogging back over to the neighbouring yard, leaving her and Manny among the mess of boxes in the entryway. 

Y/n huffed, glancing around at the mess, then at the furry little beast at her feet, who waited patiently for her to begin offering him her love and attention. She rested her hands on her hips, shaking her head softly, “Well, let’s just get this done, boy.”

– – –

Joel grunted as he clambered in through the side door of his home, sighing in relief as he slipped out of his heavy work boots and dropped the armload of groceries onto the kitchen counter. He could hear the TV on in the living room, drowned out by Sarah’s yell of a greeting. He rushed to put away the groceries, sticking the brown paper bags in the recycling before stepping into the dimly lit sitting area. 

Tommy was reclined on the couch, slumped into the worn leather like a pile of mashed potatoes as he balanced his can of Budweiser on his bent knee. He nodded to his brother briefly as he lifted the beer to his lips, hardly taking his eyes off of the football game on the screen as Joel plopped down next to him. The older brother leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to Sarah’s head so as to not disturb her as she worked on her homework on the coffee table in front of the couch before finally copying his brother’s position.

“The hell took you so long? You left the site the same time I did, and I had to go pick this shithead up from school,” he playfully kicked at Sarah’s leg, “plus I helped your new neighbour move in.”

“Supermarket was a zoo,” Joel moaned as he ran his palm flat over his face, then furrowed his brow, “What new neighbour?”

Tommy nodded his head back in the direction of the mustard yellow house, “Chick next door got a new roommate.”

“Uncle Tommy was flirting with her,” Sarah chimed in, not taking her eyes off of the math textbook in front of her.

Joel rolled his eyes, “Now tell me why I’m not surprised.”

Tommy shook his head, taking another large gulp of beer, “I know what you’re thinking, but this girl’s different. She’s not from ‘round here. Not sure where, but she’s got an accent. Canada, maybe.”

“You know what a Canadian accent sounds like?” Joel scoffed, knowing that his brother was prone to drawing his own conclusions. 

“Well, no,” Tommy frowned, “But I imagine it might sound like that. Doesn’t matter, I think I’m gonna ask her out.”

Joel grunted in response, turning his eyes to the game on the screen.

“She wasn’t flirting back,” Sarah grinned up at the two men, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her father’s growing smirk and giggling as his own laughter came tumbling out. Tommy kicked her again, only this time with a little more force, “What? You invited yourself over there and were all,” She puffed her chest out and deepened her voice, “Anything for a pretty girl like you.”

Joel rested a palm on his belly as he shook with laughter, his other hand landing on the top of his daughter’s head affectionately as Tommy crossed his arms, sulking. 

“I think she was flirting back,” he argued.

“She wasn’t,” Sarah reaffirmed.

Tommy leaned forward, “Now how the hell would you know anything about flirting, huh? You been doin’ a lot of it at school?”

Her face burned in embarrassment, sputtering for a response, “No, that’s gross!”

Joel frowned at her, shaking his head in feign sternness, “You better not be. Otherwise I might need to break out grandpa’s old hunting rifle.”

She didn’t utter another word, simply gathering her things in her arms and rushing off to her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her as the laughter of her father and uncle followed her every step.

OCTOBER 17, 1998

Just under a week had passed since he’d first caught wind of his new neighbour, and Joel had yet to even see this woman. He’d noticed the new car in the driveway, and he’d picked up on the presence of the dog fairly quickly, especially after he’d caught Sarah tossing some of the vegetables from her dinner over the fence for him. Joel hadn’t paid it much mind, he was far too busy to be concerned with some young girl who didn’t seem to be causing much issues. 

He’d had words with Stephanie several times in the past; once for blatantly smoking pot on 

her front step when they were heading out for the day, then for leaving her garbage bin too close to his driveway, causing him to back into it and scratch the paint on his truck, and then once more when she’d had a little get together that ended up lasting until 4am, when the police arrived. He would normally have called himself a narc for having the party shut down, but it was keeping Sarah awake and the door had been shut in his face when he went over to ask politely. 

The day had been long, and normally he would have refused Tommy’s invitation to head over to one of the local dive bars, but after dealing with the shit-show that had gone on at the job site that day, he really needed a drink. Sarah was out of the house, anyway, having slept over at a friend’s house, so there was quite literally nothing keeping him away.

“Brother’s night, my ass,” Joel grumbled into his glass, glancing over to the corner booth, where his brother had joined a pretty brunette, leaving Joel to himself at the barside. He waved at the bartender, motioning for another top-up of his whiskey. 

A figure appeared at his side, leaning onto the bartop to call out to the bartender. Joel glanced over, his eyes raking over her radiant side profile in awe. He shot his gaze back to the glass of amber liquid in front of him, then briefly over to the girl once more. His eyes narrowed in on her pursed lips, noting how her brows furrowed in frustration as the bartender migrated to the other side of the bar. She turned to him suddenly, and Joel whipped his head back around to ensure that he wouldn’t appear to be some creep–though he was positive he certainly had been.

“Is it always like this here?” She asked him, tilting her head. “I swear, I’ve gone to three different spots along this bar, and buddy keeps looking in the other direction.”

He cleared his throat, “You not from around here?”

She smiled sheepishly, “Is it that obvious?”

Joel chuckled, “Just a little. You gotta get his attention, be firm. Here,” he tucked his index finger and thumb into his mouth and let out a loud whistle, nodding at the bartender as he rushed over. 

“Two vodka crans, please,” The girl smiled prettily at the bartender, then scoffed as he turned to begin pouring the drinks, “Shit, I guess I could stand to learn a thing or two.”

“It comes with time,” He frowned, realising that he may have implied that he was at the bar every other night, “I mean, not that I’m–”

She touched his arm softly, electricity running through her fingertips and into his bicep, “Hey, I’m not here to judge you if you’re not here to judge me, heh?”

He nodded, opening his mouth to speak once more when another figure appeared at her side. His smile dropped, taking in the sight of his next door neighbour, probably one of the last people he wanted to see on his night off.

“What the fuck is taking you so long–oh,” Stephanie narrowed her eyes at the older man, who simply turned and took another long swig of his whiskey, “Hello, Joel.”

“Stephanie,” he drawled, “How you doin’ tonight?”

She smirked at him maliciously, “Fine. Y/n, this is the guy I was telling you about.”

Oh, this is Y/n, he thought to himself, suddenly understanding Tommy’s instant interest in the girl. 

“All good things, I hope,” he sighed into his glass.

She shook her head, “Oh, just that you’re the neighbour from hell, and that you’re a narc.”

Y/n tucked her bottom lip in between her teeth, visibly uncomfortable at the confrontation. His eyes fell to her mouth at the movement, wondering what it might feel like to take that same lip in between his own teeth. 

“You keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night, Steph,” he huffed, praying to any god that would listen that she hadn’t completely turned Y/n against him.

Stephanie sneered at him, grasping one of the drinks from the bartop and stomping off, leaving a thick tension over the remaining two. Joel met Y/n’s gaze once again, noting the visible embarrassment on her face as she began to laugh slowly.

“Sorry about her,” She laughed nervously, “For the record, I know that she’s a little dramatic.”

“‘T’s fine,” Joel grumbled, swallowing the last gulp of whiskey, “You ain’t gotta apologise for her, she can feel however she wants about me.”

Y/n chuckled, a genuine one this time and Joel couldn’t help but carve the melodious sound into his memory, “I’m Y/n, by the way.”

He nodded, accepting the soft handshake that she offered, “So I’ve heard.” He noticed the slight furrow of her brow before he clarified, “I’m Sarah’s dad.”

Realisation crossed her face, “Oh, Sarah! She’s a real sweetheart.”

“Yeah, she is,” he smiled softly at the complement, “She sure likes you, and I’m assuming that it’s your pup that I’ve caught her feeding her broccoli to?”

Y/n giggled at him, “Huh, I’d noticed that he was especially gassy lately. Here I was thinking it was something in the water.”

Joel let out a loud laugh, then realised that he had not actually introduced himself, “Shit. Sorry, I just–” he coughed, “I’m Joel.”

“So I’ve heard.” She repeated to him, clearing her throat before turning to gaze at him through her lashes with a soft smile, “So Joel, is this seat taken?”

– – –

Y/n had not expected to have enjoyed herself quite so much when Stephanie forced her to go to the grubby little saloon, feeling incredibly out of place among all of the southerners. She had been hesitant to leave Manny on his own so soon after moving in, but the last thing that she had wanted to do was get on Stephanie’s bad side so early on. Then, she’d stumbled upon the devastatingly handsome man sitting all on his own at the bar, and her tune changed drastically. 

She sat on that stool for the better part of two hours after Stephanie had fucked off, leaving them to become acquainted with one another. Joel had offered her another drink, which she accepted under the terms that she would buy the next round, and against his better judgement, he found himself doing a shot of tequila with her as well. She smirked to herself when she took note of the flush that had crawled into his cheeks, and how cheerful his dark chocolate eyes looked under the dim lighting of the bar. 

Y/n had noticed Tommy in the corner booth, and how he had been blatantly pressing his southern charm onto the brunette under his arm in the very same way that he had to her, which made her feel much better knowing that he couldn’t possibly be that upset about her doing the exact same to his brother. 

Her hand had come to rest on his knee, leaning across to invade his personal space animatedly as she spoke, her own cheeks flushing each time that he grinned or laughed at her words, and she had lost count of the amount of times that she had rubbed her thighs together or considered smashing her lips to his. 

Tommy appeared at his side, clutching his shoulder in his firm grasp, “Hey Joel, you think you’re ready–oh, hey, Y/n.” His cheeks had turned red, one hand self-consciously rising to rub at his cheek, where the stark red lipstick stain had once acted as a trophy and was now an admission of guilt. Tommy pursed his lips, “Wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”

She shrugged, “Steph forced me out.”

He nodded awkwardly, unsure of how to save himself in this situation. 

Y/n turned her head, catching sight of her roommate’s drunken attempt to seduce the bouncer before turning her attention back to the older of the two brothers, squeezing his knee once before sliding off of the stool, “Speaking of, I should probably leave, she’s gonna get us banned from here any minute now. It’s been nice, talking to you, Joel. See you, Tommy.”

Both men watched as she disappeared into the crowd, eyes trailing after her figure longingly.

Tommy huffed, “You think I still got a chance?”

Joel’s shoulders shook in a drunken fit of giggles, lifting his own hand to proudly show off the nine digits that had been marked into his skin, “Nope.”

Tommy’s jaw dropped, clear disappointment on his features before it was quickly replaced by pride, “Well fuck, brother. Didn’t think you had it in you.”

OCTOBER 31, 1998

Y/n wiped at the sweat on her brow, breathing picking up in delight as she turned the corner and the blinding yellow house came into sight. The sun had already begun to set by the time that she and Manny had set out on their evening walk, now settling low on the horizon and casting a golden hue to the world below it as Manny tugged on his leash, obviously also desperate to escape the heat. 

A loud honk sounded from behind her, muffled slightly by the music playing over her bulky headphones, drawing her attention to the dark pickup truck as it sped past, Sarah hanging out the back window with a grin on her face as she waved dramatically. Y/n chuckled at the young girl, allowing Manny to lead her into a faster pace as they grew closer to their house.

She slid the headphones down to rest around her neck, pressing pause on her walkman as Sarah rushed towards them. The girl paid very little mind to the woman holding the leash, instead dropping to her knees and reaching out for the excited dog’s face, laughing as he began to lick enthusiastically at her cheek. 

“Hi,” her gaze rose to find Joel as he rounded the bed of the truck, hand resting on the top of the tailgate as he tried his best to look casual, “sorry, this one never shuts up about that dog.”

Y/n smiled at him, warmth flooding through her cheeks. She’d only actually spoken to Joel a handful of times since that night at the bar, mostly simple greetings while Sarah occupied herself with Manny. Joel was too awkward of a person to try anything with Sarah present, and Y/n was too compassionate to question him about why he hadn’t bothered to call yet in front of his daughter. 

Y/n shrugged, “To be fair, he never shuts up about her, either.”

“Oh did he tell you that?” The man asked, brows raised playfully, “I didn’t know you spoke dog.”

“There are many things you don’t know about me yet, Joel,” She smirked at him, “Oh, happy Halloween, by the way.”

“Right,” Joel raised one hand to stroke his hairy chin, “Yeah, you too.”

Sarah glanced up from Manny’s pleading brown eyes, “Dad forgot.

Joel sent a sharp glare to his daughter, then smiled sheepishly at her, “Not too concerned about a holiday that’s got nothing to do with me, anyway–this one decided she’s too cool for trick-or-treating with dad this year.”

“Oh don’t feel too discouraged, I gave my dad the boot when I was even younger.”

“See?” Sarah pressed, glancing back at her father, “You don’t even like Halloween, I don’t get why you’re mad.”

Y/n widened her eyes and clutched her chest dramatically, “What do you mean, you don’t like Halloween? It’s like, one of the best holidays!”

Joel rolled his eyes, “Oh don’t tell me you’re one of those people.”

She pursed her lips, “And just when I was starting to like you, Miller.”

His eyes met hers, curiosity pooling into the dark mocha irises as he considered her words. He almost appeared apologetic; could he feel guilty about not calling her? Y/n did her best to not appear too shaken by his lack of contact–she hadn’t expected anything from him the next day, but after two weeks and still no call? She’d taken that as a sign that he’d been a tad too drunk when he had been so shamelessly flirting with her, and that he had no intentions of ever pursuing anything. 

Y/n was thankful when Sarah interrupted the pair, preventing her from spiralling into a nervous breakdown from her own inner monologue, “What are you dressing up as?”

The woman shook her head with a mischievous smirk on her lips, “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see when you come knocking at my door, huh?”

“No big plans?” Joel tilted his head, “I figured that roommate of yours would have you out on the town.”

She shrugged, “Steph’s out of town. Something about the drinks and the guys being stronger. Looks like it’s just gonna be me and my little guy here,” she gently clapped a hand against Manny’s side, “Well, us and a selection of horror movies.”

Sarah stood up, leaning into her dad’s side with her elbow, “How convenient, my dad will also be home alone tonight.”

Joel dropped his head in embarrassment–just leave it to Sarah to blatantly play the role of her father’s wingwoman. He refused to meet Y/n’s amused gaze, ears burning as Sarah continued.

“And he totally loves horror movies. He watches them all the time.”

“Oh really?” Y/n did her best not to burst out laughing, enjoying the sight of both Joel’s embarrassment and how confidently Sarah was trying to talk up her own father. She crossed her arms over her chest, doing her best to not make it too obvious how much she actually wanted to invite him to join her, but she didn’t want to display too much interest in him if he genuinely had none in her, “Well then maybe he should head to Blockbuster before all of the good ones are rented.” 

She raised her brow at him, signalling to him that it was his turn to make a move, as she would not be making any more. He nodded at her, red flooding his cheeks as he tried to muster up the courage to discuss the clear tension between them. 

Y/n smiled politely at them both, then glanced down at the heavily panting dog at her feet, “Well, I better get this guy out of this heat. See you guys in a bit, then?” She led the dog past them, glancing back over her shoulder, her lips pursed as she watched Sarah poke at her father’s side sharply. 

The young girl smirked at her dad knowingly, remaining silent, though the expression on her face made her thoughts very clear to the man. She scowled at him, crossing her arms over her chest, “Christina’s sister is so right; all boys are stupid.”

The man scowled at his daughter, watching in silence as she moved around him without another word, disappearing through the front door without so much as another glance. Joel scoffed, shaking his head at her, and wondering how the hell his nine year old could be so goddamn right about the situation. 

– – –

Joel wiped his hands anxiously across the expanse of his thighs, attempting to rid himself of the nervous sweat that had collected in his palms as he stood on Y/n’s front step, mustering up the courage to finally knock. 

“The fuck am I doing,” He cursed to himself, shaking his head as he ran a hand over his face. 

Y/n was younger than him; not by a lot, but they were still in very different stages of their lives. He wasn’t willing to admit that he genuinely did like her, and considering that she was still a young woman and still in college, he wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for with him. Was it just some quick fuck that she wanted? Joel wouldn’t be opposed–hell, he was ashamed that he’d imagined such a thing more than a few times since meeting her–but he wasn’t sure if he could jump into bed with her and then move on with his life, nor could he expect her to be willing to just pick up the role of step-mother to his little girl. 

Joel had woken up on October 17, hungover as hell and struggling to recall any of his memories from the night before. He’d forced himself out of bed much earlier than he would have liked, needing to pick Sarah up before her soccer game. The man had stumbled his way into the shower, blindly going through the motions of bathing himself as the warm water slowly began to remove the fog from his mind. It was then, as he had reached out for his bottle of body wash that he noticed the smudge of blue ink on his skin, and then jumping in surprise at the memory of the beautiful woman who had given him her phone number–the woman who had him laughing like he hadn’t in so long and blushing harder than he thought possible–the woman who he hoped was now lying peacefully in her bed next door, preferably all on her own. 

The few times that he had seen her since then, he had thought about apologising for not calling and telling her the truth of what had happened, despite his embarrassment. He wanted to ask for it again, but every time, Sarah was there, making a fuss over the little pooch that never seemed to leave Y/n’s side. He wished that he were more confident in himself, more willing to speak to other women even if his daughter was there, but he simply would never be able to look at the young girl again if Y/n were to reject him. 

“Shit,” He swore loudly as he turned to rush off of the step, instead booting one of the carefully carved jack-o-lanterns onto the pavement of the driveway and watching in horror as it shattered on impact. 

“Joel?” He froze at the sound of the door creaking open behind him, smiling bashfully at the young woman as he did his best to not appear too guilty. Her eyes fell from his flushed face to the mess of orange at his feet, a surprised chuckle leaving her lips, “Damn, you really do hate Halloween, huh? Enough to come over here and start destroying my decorations, anyway.”

He sputtered for an answer, “I–it was an accident, I just knocked it off by accident on my way out–”

“Your way out?” She questioned, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the doorframe, “So what, you were just loitering on my front step?”

He scoffed at her, “I was actually on my way to apologise, but if you’d rather I just get lost…”

Y/n raised a brow inquisitively, “I’m listening.”

“I just–I’m sorry for not calling,” Joel admitted with a sigh, debating whether or not it would be best to explain exactly why, “For what it’s worth, I would have if I hadn’t washed it off by accident.”

An amused expression crossed her features as she mulled over his explanation, “You…washed it off?”

He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, “I did.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, as if she were trying to decipher whether or not he was being truthful, “Okay.”

His gaze shifted from side to side, uncertain as to what she meant, “Okay?”

“Okay,” She affirmed, “So what time did you wanna come over tonight?”

Joel swallowed the lump in his throat, “Tonight?”

Y/n shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the butterflies that slammed at the lining of her stomach and threatened to erupt, “Tonight. You said it yourself, Sarah’s gonna be gone all night, so would  you rather be home alone or come over? Otherwise, I’ll just be here by myself, scared and in need of a devastatingly handsome cowboy to protect me from Michael Myers.”

Blush spread across his cheeks, his hands coming up to rest on his hips, “I don’t know about ‘devastatingly handsome’, but I think I could handle some asshole in a mask.”

She grinned at him wickedly, “That’s what everyone thinks, but I guess we’ll see tonight, around eight?”

“Eight.” He confirmed, then glanced down at the mess at his feet, “And sorry about your pumpkin.”

“It’s alright,” Y/n smirked, “You’ll just have to work extra hard to make it up to me.”

– – –

Joel anxiously adjusted his shirt, frowning at himself in the window of her front door. Despite dismissing Sarah’s teasing by claiming that this was in fact, not a date, he’d taken her advice in showering the moment that he had gotten into the house. 

He was aware that she was flirting with him, but until he had gotten out of the shower, towel sitting low around his waist as he wiped the steam away from the mirror and took in his shaggy appearance, he had not been at all concerned about what activities the night might lead to. Staring at his own reflection, nervousness quickly began to settle into his bones.

He had made quick work with the clipper, shortening the length of his facial hair after several weeks of negligence and leaving his lower face to be covered by a light stubble. He put a little more effort into his hair than usual, running a thin layer of gel through it while noting to himself that it was probably time for a haircut. He even took things a step further, dabbing a few drops of some woodsy cologne onto his skin; the bottle had gone untouched for two years, having been a Christmas present from his mother.

“Are you wearing cologne?” Sarah asked as she appeared at his side, face painted to resemble a circus clown, “I knew this was a date.”

“It’s not a date,” He argued, doing his best not to jump in fright at her appearance, “Shouldn’t you be out on the town by now, Ronald McDonald?”

“You showered, put on cologne, and you’re bringing candy? It’s a date.” Sarah listed, “And I’m Pennywise, by the way. Christina’s sister is coming to pick me up soon. She says that guys always dress up when she goes out with them because they want her–”

Joel grunted, glaring at his daughter, “I want you to stop hanging around Christina’s sister.”

Sarah ignored his comment, “Is that what you’re wearing?”

Joel glanced down at his outfit–a clean pair of jeans and an old t-shirt that he’d probably gotten out of a beer box or something, “What’s wrong with this?”

“What’s right with it?” 

Joel considered his parenting style for a moment, wondering if he would be free of this headache if he had spanked his daughter once or twice in her life. Sometimes he forgot that the girl was only nine years old with how intelligent she was and how much more mature she seemed in comparison to other kids her age. 

“It’s not a date, Sarah.”

She rolled her eyes, “It could be. Come on.”

Sarah rushed past him, leading him into his own bedroom as she began to dig through his closet. She frowned with almost every piece that she picked out, tossing them behind her recklessly and ignoring her father’s scolding for the mess that she had quickly created. 

“Hah!” The girl pulled out an egg-plant button down and shoved it into his grasp, “I knew you had to have something that wasn’t that ugly.”

He grunted at her, but didn’t reply out of respect for her brutal honesty as he quickly shed himself of the worn t-shirt he’d previously been wearing in favour of the one that Sarah had chosen. Now, as he stood at her front door and internally decided for himself that this was a date, he couldn’t help but thank God for his daughter’s awareness.

Finally, after tugging at the hem of his shirt, he raised a fist and knocked heavily on the door. Joel choked on his own saliva when she appeared in the window, smiling sweetly at him when she pulled the door open. She had already changed into a pair of black yoga pants and a sky blue shirt that exposed just a tasteful amount of her midriff. 

“Hi, again,” she breathed, a smile forming on her face, “You look nice, purple is definitely your colour.”

Joel burned, “I–thank you. Sarah picked it out.”

Y/n turned to the girl, who had already ushered the dog up onto the sofa with her, “Well she has a clear eye for style.”

“She definitely thinks so, that girl damn near harrasses me about my clothes everyday.” Y/n laughed out loud, Joel’s ears tingling at the melodious sound, “You look great, too.”

Y/n beamed down at her outfit, shrugging to herself, “Thanks, I thought about keeping my costume on but I wasn’t entirely sure how much you would be into Strawberry Shortcake.”

Joel chuckled at her, glancing down at the object in his hand, “I brought beer, by the way. Wasn’t sure if I should bring anything, or if you even like–”

Y/n reached out, snatching the six pack from his grasp, “Ever the gentleman, cowboy. So, you coming in?”

– – –

The house was filled with laughter, both having nearly finished their first beer as they shared stories freely. Halloween played quietly in the background, though neither of them paid too much attention. Y/n did her best not to physically melt when she felt Joel’s arm drape across the back of the sofa behind her, resisting the urge to tease him for attempting to cover it up by faking a dramatic yawn. 

She brushed her fingers along the top of his thigh, smirking to herself as she watched his leg slowly shift closer to her, though he didn’t address the affectionate touch. He spoke to her softly, and made an effort to hold eye contact with her as he did to–she was starting to feel some guilt about the conclusion that he’d drawn about him after he’d failed to call her. Her own gaze continuously fell to his lips as he spoke, and she was sure that he had noticed by the way that his lips began to curl confidently. Her heart hammered in her chest, wondering how much longer she would need to wait before he finally made a move.

Joel, however, was wondering exactly how he possibly could make a move. While feeling confident around her, there was no way to escape the fact that he hadn’t been on a date in at least a year, and he could count the amount of women he’d slept with since Sarah’s mother on one hand. At various points throughout the night, he had considered leaning in to kiss her, but had successfully siked himself out each time. The first time, he’d been interrupted by the pooch who had been jealous of his owner’s attention being focused elsewhere, though he could only blame every other time on his own insecurity.

“Do you want another beer?” Y/n asked as he swallowed the last gulp out of his can, “Or I have wine and pop?”

“Pop,” he scoffed, chest rumbling with quiet laughter.

She raised her hand and slapped his pec as she stood up from the couch, “Fine, you don’t get anything.”

He laughed, watching as she disappeared into the kitchen and shamelessly admiring the shape of her backside in the darkness of the dimly lit living room. He sat there for a few moments, staring at the movie in discontent, sighing as he ran his hand over his face and murmured a nearly silent fuck it, and following after her. 

“Is it too late to apologise and get that beer?” 

She glanced over her shoulder at him, smirking as she shrugged coyly as she turned and leaned her back against the front of the refrigerator and holding the perspiring can out in front of her, “You’ll have to come get it yourself.”

Joel crossed the small room in two long strides, stopping as the can met his chest, though he paid it little mind as she stepped away from the fridge, pressing a fleeting kiss to his lips. He froze for a second, stomach clenching at the soft touch. 

“Sorry,” Y/n whispered, though her tone betrayed how unapologetic she truly was, “Was that okay?”

He didn’t respond, quickly taking the beer out of her grasp and tossing it onto the counter as he cupped her face, capturing her lips with his and pressing her back against the fridge once more. She smiled against his lips, fingers bunching in the material of his plum coloured shirt and tugging him even closer. 

His lips were chapped against her own, the telltale sign of a busy man who hadn’t been too concerned with his physical appearance up until now, though she could not picture another kiss that she had received in the last several years that would even compare to Joel’s. 

One of his hands fell, fingers splaying around her waist as he pressed even closer, parting his lips as he felt the tip of her tongue prod at the seam and allowing her to seek out his own. He moaned at her taste, fingers wandering to her hip and hesitating, almost as if he had been asking for her permission to move even lower. She grasped his hand, guiding it around to cup her bottom.

Pulling away for air, she giggled softly and fluttered her eyelids open to find him already staring at her with blown pupils. One of her hands slid up his chest, tugging at the collar of his shirt before her fingers trailed over his patchy beard affectionately, “I don’t know if this is too soon, but do you wanna move to my bedroom?”

Joel chuckled at her, squeezing her cheek through her yoga pants, “Lead the way.”

– – –

Joel worried that he might have gone into cardiac arrest as he struggled to catch his breath, back slouched against the headboard as Y/n slumped flush against his chest. The cotton sheets pooled around her hips as she continued to move softly, working them both through the aftershocks of their climaxes. The man sighed in appreciation as her lips continued to slide against his jawline and leave gentle kisses in their wake, her fingers still lost in his dark curls.

Joel’s own hands squeezed her hips as she finally slowed to a stop, helping her slide off of him and smirking to himself at the whine she let out at the loss of contact. She shifted, moving out of his lap and curling into the cool sheets on the bed next to him.

“How was that?” He panted, “Have I done enough to make up for lost time?”

She grinned at him, her own chest rising and falling with her slowing breaths, “I think I recall doing most of the work, actually.”

“Bein’ on top doesn’t mean you were doing any work, sweetheart, I think we both know that.” His eyes fell on the digital alarm clock on her bedside table, grunting to himself as he took note of the late hour, “Shit–how the hell is it ten-thirty already?”

She glanced over to the clock briefly, then back at him, “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

Staring down at her nude form, guilt began to eat away at him as he began to slide off of the mattress and begin gathering his clothes that had been scattered around the room. 

“Are you leaving?” His back was turned to her as he pulled on his jeans, though he could only imagine the look on her face from the emotion that dripped from her voice; she was disappointed, facing the reality that she would be abandoned after doing something so intimate. 

“I mean…” Joel coughed, “Yeah, I should probably leave. Gotta work early tomorrow, and Sarah’s got soccer practice, and–”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” She sat up, hugging her knees to her chest in an attempt to regain her modesty, “I get it.”

Joel couldn’t help but wonder how many times she’d done this. She seemed disheartened, but not entirely surprised at his decision to head out, as if she was expecting this time to be different from the others–as if she was expecting Joel to be any different from the other shitty guys she’d met since moving to Austin.

“Darlin’,” Joel cooed, coming to sit at the edge of the mattress and cupping her face in his large palms, “It’s not like that. I want nothing more than to stay the night, but I know that I won’t sleep a wink tonight if I do.” His thumb stroked her bottom lip as her mouth slanted into a small, saddened smile. He leaned in, pressing three kisses to her lips, each one longer than the last before pulling back, “Can I get your number? I promise I won’t ask for a third time.”

Y/n smiled at him, kissing him once more before snatching a pen off of the bedside table and scribbling on his hand, “You won’t get it if you ask for a third time, Miller.”

MARCH 12, 1999

Y/n sighed blissfully, gnawing at her lip to prevent any moans of pleasure as Joel worked himself into her over and over, his hips meeting hers with slow, meaningful movements as he did his best to keep both of them quiet. Joel wasn’t normally one for booty calls, though he had hardly seen her in the past few days and couldn’t resist when his mind had wandered while in the shower–and for the first time in what felt like decades, he could rely on the help of soft, feminine touches rather than his own fast and rough tugs. 

Her thighs shook, teeth biting into the pillow beneath her face as she pressed her hips back against him and arched her spine in pleasure. She met his thrusts enthusiastically, fingers winding into the sheets tightly. 

“Shit,” She gasped, “Joel, I’m gonna–”

“I know,” He rasped, “Shhh baby. Let go, I’ve got you.”

She didn’t hold back, allowing the white hot pleasure to run through her veins, muffling her cries in the plushness of the pillow. Her walls clenched around him, gripping him for everything that she could manage as he fucked her through it, head rolled back in pleasure as his own orgasm teetered over the edge. His fingers tightened around her hips, hauling her back against him a few more times before his seed painted the inside of the condom. 

His hands slid up from her hips, one pressing on her back to force her to lay flat against the mattress while the other cupped the soft flesh of her belly to roll her over. Joel took in her figure, eyes scanning her face for any signs of discomfort before dropping to her breasts; the man was absolutely entranced by the shape of her breasts, eagerly pawing at them during makeout sessions and suckling at them with the utmost love and desire as he fucked her. She smiled at him tiredly, hooded eyes admiring his own figure as he slipped out of her, sliding off of the bed and disappearing into the ensuite. 

When he returned, he wore a pair of black boxers and carried a maroon washcloth in his hand, carefully parting her legs and sliding the cloth through her folds, puffy and sore from his touch. He whispered an entirely disingenuous apology as he pressed lightly against her abused clit, chuckling to himself as she jumped. Tossing the cloth aside, he settled into the mattress next to her, sliding an arm around her waist and tugging her into his side, sighing in relief at the physical contact. 

The rising sun had slowly begun to peek through the blinds, filling the room with a soft glow in the aftermath of the third round. Y/n glanced at the clock on the far wall, sighing to herself as reality settled into her bones. She hadn’t intended on staying so long, especially after how eagerly the both of them had initiated the first round, having allowed herself to remain at his side until she felt his member begin to grow against her thigh once more. Now, after taking him inside of her three times over the past six hours, she knew that she would eventually need to get up and leave–a habit that they both had and hated when they were finished. 

She pressed careful kisses into his flesh, lips moulding to the sweaty skin of his shoulder and neck affectionately while her palm rubbed circles into his firm chest. Joel nuzzled his head into her hair, his own lips pressing to the crown of her head as he, too, appreciated the afterglow. 

Y/n’s body and heart screamed at her as she finally pulled herself away from him, hopping out of the bed and collecting her clothing from the floor. Joel watched her with sunken eyes, his attempt to remain stoic as he easily recognised what she was doing proving fruitless.

“You don’t–you don’t gotta go just yet,” he called to her, desperation lacing his voice, “Don’t gotta be at the site till eleven tomorrow–”

“Today,” she corrected, “And that’s in seven hours. Besides, I don’t wanna fall asleep and risk having to run into Sarah. I should probably leave.” 

He nodded slowly, continuing to watch her as she dressed and fixed her appearance, preparing herself mentally and physically for her four A.M. walk of shame. Joel wanted to call her back to bed again, to convince her to stay with him and promise breakfast in the morning, but instead watched helplessly as she disappeared into the dark hallway, and closed his eyes disappointedly at the sound of the front door closing behind her.

JUNE 2, 1999

Golden rays of sun peeked through the blinds, trailing up the length of the bed with each passing moment before finally gracing over the soft skin of the woman next to him. Joel laid in his bed as still as possible, one arm around her shoulders to keep her flush against his chest, savouring the intimate, domestic moment before it would eventually come to an end–it always did.

The alarm clock flashed the time tauntingly at him, as if mocking him for wanting to keep her there for much longer than he knew he could. This was undoubtedly the latest she had stayed in his bed; it was nearing six A.M. and she had yet to stir from her deep slumber. 

His eyes trailed the length of her bare back, his fingers pressing gently at the indent of her spine as he pushed her body impossibly closer to her and bathing himself in the feeling of her nude body against his own. Joel resisted the urge to shake the growing ache out of his leg as pins and needles crawled up the length of his limb, too afraid to move and wake her–he knew what would come once her eyes had opened, as she had done it countless times now. 

It was the twitch of her fingers against the soft flesh of his belly that alerted him to her growing consciousness, nails following the pattern of hair that covered his abdomen softly, drawing a quiet moan of delight from the man beneath her. He felt the curve of her lips against his shoulder, turning his head to meet her eyes as they fluttered open.

“Morning, cowboy,” Her throat was dry and her voice was scratchy, but her words still held the power of causing an eruption of butterflies in his gut. 

“Morning,” He leaned closer, the tips of his nose brushing her own before she swatted him away, covering her mouth self-consciously and mumbling something about morning breath. Joel chuckled at her, moving her hand away and planting a soft, closed-mouth kiss against her lips. 

Her smile grew, hazy vision flickering around the sun-lit bedroom as realisation dawned on her, “What time is it?”

Joel’s own smile faltered as he cleared his throat, glancing over at the alarm clock again, “Five-to-six.”

“Shit,” She groaned, a hand settling on her forehead, “I should probably leave. I’m sorry, I didn���t mean to fall asleep.” 

Joel shook his head at her, “You ain’t got nothing to apologise for. I like having you here.”

She pecked his lips again, fondness creeping through her at the man’s admission, “I like being here. But I should go before Sarah wakes up.”

Joel caught her arm as she moved to crawl out of the bed, “Stay.”

“What?”

“Sarah knows you’ve been coming around and leaving early in the morning.” He told her, thumb smoothing circles against her wrist, “She says she’s happy for me, but she said that she won’t approve until you start bringing that damn dog of yours over here when you come.”

Y/n chuckled, her eyes growing a thin red rim along her waterline, “What are you saying?”

“I’m asking you to stay. Every damn night you spend here, you go rushing out like this is just a quick fuck, but I think we both know that it’s a lot more than that. Just come back to bed, please.”

Y/n shook her head at him, glancing over at the rising sun through the blinds in contemplation before she finally shrugged, crawling back into the bed and settling against his naked form with a sigh, her hand resting on his chest as she massaged small circles into his sweaty flesh. Both of them relaxed into one another, enjoying the silence of the early morning and dreading the unavoidable fate of the alarm going off in the coming hour.

NOVEMBER 27, 1999

Y/n tapped her nails against the hardwood of the tabletop rhythmically, doing her best not to make her dissociation too clear as her friends and family chattered back and forth. Her mother was busy on her left hand side, sharing dozens of her favourite childhood photographs to Y/n’s friends with a fondness that only a mother could have, while the seat to her left was empty. The watch that she’d received as a gift from her parents sat on her wrist, the time ticking away as grief settled in her stomach, the realisation that he simply wasn’t coming eating away at her pride.

Her birthday was not something that she generally liked to celebrate, but knowing that her parents, siblings, and a few members of her extended family had orchestrated a trip to visit and celebrate with her had her counting down the days, especially after she had convinced her unofficial boyfriend to join them for dinner at one of the nicest wallet-friendly restaurants in Austin. Now, as she sat silently and watched as her friends laughed and cooed over possibly the most embarrassing photos of her while picking at their slices of birthday cake, her mind only wandered to where exactly he was, and how much more fun she would be having if she were warding him off of any of those photographs–especially all of the ones from her junior high years. 

She hadn’t had the chance to speak to him at all that day, having woken up after he had already left for work and dropped Sarah off at school. At the time, Y/n had smiled to herself, thanking him mentally for allowing her to sleep in on her birthday, though she was beginning to wonder if she should have taken the lack of birthday wishes as a sign. 

She actively avoided Stephanie’s gaze, wanting to escape the oncoming I told you so, and made as little eye contact as possible with her mother, who watched her sympathetically, and her father, who silently raged over the presence of the empty chair. Y/n now felt embarrassed over how much she’d actually gushed over the man to her family before dinner, wondering if maybe she was more invested in him than he was in her. After all, he had yet to officially ask her to be his girlfriend, despite the fact that she and Manny had taken up residence in his home at least four nights a week and that she had been included in more recent movie nights with him and Sarah. 

Maybe she was reading into it too much–something must have happened. Something happened to Sarah, or maybe Tommy had been locked up again. There was no way that Joel had forgotten her birthday, there was simply no way.

– – –

Joel’s feet ached, crying out in pain with every step and sighing in relief as he finally kicked off his heavy boots. The crew that he’d brought on for his most recent and highest paying job to date had given him hell that day, leaving him aching for nothing more than a hot shower and a peaceful night at home with his best girls. He hated having to tack on extra hours to his day, but not arriving home until after ten was something that he would have to deal with in order to finish the job, and he was hoping to save up to take Y/n and Sarah on a little getaway for a weekend in the near future. 

The kitchen was dim when he stepped in, and he was somewhat surprised when he discovered no plate of food left for him in the microwave, nor was there a pan of leftovers in the fridge. Instead, there was a single empty carton of a microwavable dinner on the counter along with an empty can of Pepsi. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, he shrugged it off, though he had grown accustomed to Y/n bringing dinner over and making sure that it was ready for him on days that he worked late. 

Soft footsteps rushed down the stairs, Sarah rounding the corner with a wide grin on her face as she held a small piece of paper in her hands. 

“Hey babygirl,” Joel kissed her head softly as he moved into the living room, even more confused when he did not find Y/n curled up on the couch with a stack of her textbooks, as she so often did while waiting for him to return. 

“Hi dad,” Sarah’s smile dropped, glancing back into the entryway in confusion, “Where’s Y/n? I made this card at school today but I figured I’d wait until after you guys came back to give it to her.”

The blood in Joel’s veins ran cold, his heart skipping a beat at the sudden realisation of why his house appeared to be so void of his girlfriend, “Fuck.”

“Dad?” Sarah’s wide eyes narrowed, all too used to her father’s undiagnosed case of short-term memory loss, though he had never ever forgotten something like this before.

“Shit,” He swore again, snatching his keys off of the counter and rushing to jam his feet back into his uncomfortable boots, “Sarah, go to bed. I’ll be back later tonight.”

The girl watched helplessly as her father raced out the door, tears welling in her eyes as she stared down at the happy picture she had pasted into the card and frowning as she feared the worst.

– – –

Joel arrived at the restaurant just before eleven. He knew it was a long shot, as the reservation was for seven-thirty, which he had purposefully written down and stuck to the fridge so that he would not forget. The few remaining staff inside shook their heads in pity at the man, quickly coming to understand his situation as he rushed inside, asking about the reservation with a bouquet of flowers in his grasp. 

His shoulders slumped as he parked in his driveway, trudging across the lawn into the neighbouring yard and knocking firmly on the door. He waited a few moments, cursing quietly as he got no response and knocking again. 

His frown deepened when the door swung open, a fuming Stephanie standing in his way. Her face burned scarlet, fists clenched at her side as she took in Joel’s pitiful appearance. She took a step forward, joining Joel on the front step and closing the door behind her. 

“The fuck do you want?” 

“Where’s Y/n?” He asked, ignoring her bluntness.

“She doesn’t wanna talk to you,” the girl sneered at him. “It’s one thing to stand someone up, even to forget their birthday, but to embarrass her like that in front of her family?” She scoffed, “you know, I warned her about you, but I took no pleasure in being right. You should have seen her tonight, barely spoke at all.”

The metaphorical knife in Joel’s gut twisted at her words, the fist clenching the bouquet tightening even further around the stems. He could picture her; all dolled up, chatting with her family as she eagerly awaited his arrival, her pretty smile dampening as time passed and eventual tears in her eyes as she realised the truth–he had forgotten about her. 

“Just let me talk to her,” he begged, “Please.”

Stephanie shook her head, “I think it’s best if you never show your face on my property again, Miller.”

“Joel?” Both of their eyes turned at the sound of Y/n’s voice, finding her peeking around the door curiously. “Steph, can you give us a minute?”

The woman sent Joel one final glare, patting her roommate on the shoulder before slipping back into the house. 

If the knowledge of what he’d done hadn’t been enough, Y/n’s appearance was the final blow to his gut. Her eyes were bloodshot, cheeks swollen and marked with visible remnants of tears. She wrung her fingers together anxiously, keeping her gaze lowered in shame as she closed the door behind her and turned to face him.

“Baby–” 

“Don’t.” Y/n interrupted, “Just explain.”

He sniffled, “I can’t explain it, or excuse it. We got held up at work, and I really need this job to be done and over with already. I’m so sorry, baby.”

She shook her head, lifting her sleeve to wipe at the underside of her nose, “You didn’t even say goodbye before you left this morning. Did you even remember at all?”

Joel bit his lip, “I’m sorry. Let me–”

“Joel,” Her voice cracked, “I love you.” His heart soared as she spoke those words for the first time, then shattered as she continued, “I understand that I’m not your first priority–that’ll always be Sarah and I can’t blame you for that. But, fuck, you suggested the restaurant, Joel. You spoke to my mom over the phone and promised her the best steak in town, and she sure seemed to like it, but you weren’t even there. I won’t ever be your first priority, but I can’t be your last, either.”

“Y/n–”

“I think my cousins liked it, you know.” She continued, wiping at her cheeks, “They’re the type to pray for your downfall, and I’m sure they were loving every second of the dinner once everyone realised that you weren’t coming. Hell, all I did all night was talk about how amazing you were, and then–” Y/n cut herself off with a quiet sob.  “You should probably leave.” 

“Don’t do this,” Joel cupped her face, dropping the flowers to the deck recklessly as he wiped the tears away from her cheeks with his thumbs, “Tell me what to do. Hit me, yell at me, do something, but don’t ask me to walk away.”

She looked into his eyes, and for a moment, Joel felt hopeful that she might actually listen to him, though all hope was quickly diminished as he removed herself from his grasp, reaffirming her statement as she stepped back into the house.

“You should probably leave.”

[lesyeuxdemoii]

paige bueckers x oc

warnings: parent issue, cursing, mention of sex. that’s all that i’m aware of, lmk if anything else

: hii ! extremely happy to join pb community. this is my very first fic, and eng is not my first language, so🙏🏽

also, this work is heavily inspired by: @sommerbueckers and @arlertwhore , that’s why i’m giving full credits to them.

————————————————————————————

I’m not exactly sure how i got into this.

I can’t remember the time that I had any complications in my personal life, yet, i never had one. My main focus was always ballet. Always. I was involved in that endless circle since I was 7. My mother, a former ballerina herself, after unsuccessful attempts to force my older sister to follow her path, took me in her hands, and because of my gentle and submissive characteristics, I obliged. Not that I complained, I did enjoy ballet. I didn’t see myself without it, it was part of me and my persona. School didn’t happen to be a problem as well. I didn’t just get good grades, I got the best ones. In simple words — I was the golden child, the one that was always bragged in rare family gatherings.

Speaking of, the opposite of me was my older sister — Giselle, we called her Gigi. She had that outgoing, extroverted, energetic personality, a personality that was indeed stronger than mine. Gigi’s life was full of parties, passion, dedication, fun. I adored her, her appearance, her lightweight character. We became inseparable when our parents started the train of their “business trips”, leaving us fully alone. They were never at home, never cared enough. They even skipped my 18th birthday, the one that was so important for me, but I hope guess FaceTime saved the situation. It was fine for a while, though, me and Gigi had each other, and that was enough.

My life, apart from yearning for my parents, that i tried to deny, was good. Until… until I got too close with my sister and her friends. That one friend, in particular. That’s how my calculated life was ruined, forcing me to face with something, that I wasn’t entirely prepared to handle. Not alone.

Why did i even come to this party? It was never my thing, I preferred extra practice more, than being trapped in direct contact with sweaty, high, drunk people. They were all so wasted, meanwhile I barely had any sips of my drink. I just couldn’t say no to Gi. She insisted that I need some distraction from my robotic routine, of course I had to say yes, and of course I had to lie to her, hiding the fact that I already owned a distraction, for months, actually.

I stood in the kitchen, leaning against the wall, scrolling through my Instagram feed and periodically checking the time. After a while of mindlessly staring at my phone, i heard that someone entered the kitchen, someone tall, specifically blonde.

“Can’t you just have some fucking fun?” - a voice came from the door, looking up and down my petite, delicate body, compared to her athletic and strong one. I didn’t have to raise my head, already knowing that the signature smirk was present on her pretty face.

“I’m having my own fun here, you don’t have to worry” - I replied without looking at her, trying to act unbothered by her presence, which I most likely failed to do.

“C’mon bro, you can’t isolate yourself from everyone. From me, at least.” - she answered, slowly approaching, and standing closely in-front of me.

“Don’t call me “bro”, I’m not your buddy, Paige.” - she slightly chuckled from my response, taking the phone out of my hand, forcing to look at her.

“First of all, look at me when I talk to you, secondly, you are my buddy.” — she said, studying my face with her beautiful eyes. It looked like she was trying to draw my portrait in her head.

Sure, she absolutely had to mention that I’m her “buddy”, as if it didn’t hurt like knife. I don’t remember how I ended up being engaged in half-situationship position with the infamous Paige Bueckers. I’d met her through Gi, obviously, nothing surprising. She was the walking charm, the magnetic and utterly unattainable girl. Paige was one of the most desirable people, she could have anyone, anytime, anywhere, yet, she chose me to be her secret. Why? I was absolutely clueless. Maybe my innocence was something that attracted her, but you never know. Although, the two things I certainly knew were,

1) She was unbelievably good at everything. (sex and basketball, especially). 2) I was deeply inlove with her, but she didn’t seem to know that, or she pretended not to.

“Seriously, what do you want? I’m already on my nerves, don’t try to piss me off, like really.” - I said, staring back at her, while crossing my arms, as she put my phone on the nearest table.

She smirked, clearly unaffected by my fake attitude, when she brushed my hair behind my ear, resting her hand on my cheek. - “I can take you home, baby.” - she whispered, her voice went down especially during the last part. My eyes softened, and i found myself leaning into her touch.

“Can’t leave Gi here.” - I frowned a bit, but my sister was always my N1 priority.

"She’ll understand, Don’t worry. I will talk to her.” - she moved her lips to my temple, placing a soft kiss there, then to my cheek, repeating the action. I was satisfied by the affection that I received, so i simply nodded, letting her take the control.

Car ride was peaceful. I didn’t know what Paige said to Giselle, but she knew what she was doing, and i fully trusted her. Her hand rested on my thigh, as she drew small circles on it with her thumb, her eyes being fully focused on the road. Her touch was possessive, yet so tender.

When we reached to the destination, Paige demanded to see me off to the door, ending up entering the house. As soon as the door closed, her lips were smashed against mine, her hands pulling me impossibly closer by my waist, while I was holding her face. The kiss was passionate, almost sexual. Our lips moved in perfect sync, as if they were made for each other. It was so intoxicating, so intense. Her grip on me tightened, and i slightly hummed in response, causing her to smile. She slowly moved down to my neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses all over it… And for one second, I almost forgot, that everything we were doing was not right, it was a secret.

Sweet secret, that only we were able to knew.

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹｡ here’s to hoping (cause i can’t stop calling) | gojo satoru

wc: 1.1k

summary: gojo calls, and you spend it half-wishing you weren’t broken up. 

contains: gn!reader, exes to ???, alcohol, mentions of going to the club, gojo is bad at being an ex, complicated feelings, ambiguous ending, kind of hurt/comfort. 

a/n: writing this as my copium, i haven’t written gojo outside of col in so long so this was challenging, but equally as exciting! some songs that inspired this are: better than this - lauv & oh, gemini - role model.

part of the in's and out's new year/birthday event | request prompt: calling your ex drunk at two a.m. with feelings still stuck in your throat

“Well, well, well… miss me already?”

The clock on your kitchen wall reads some time between 2:05 and 2:10. Even when you squint, the little lines remain a drunken blur. 

You blame it on the alcohol. 

“Don’t be shy now.” the voice on your phone continues, shaking you out of focus. 

Had you been any more sober, you wouldn’t be in this situation right now. 

Had you been any more sober, the throbbing in your head wouldn’t have persisted from the sound of—

“Gojo–” you sigh. 

“Satoru.” he interrupts, a full pause before he continues, softer, “It’s Satoru, remember?” 

Had you been any more sober, you wouldn’t have even answered his call. 

You haul your bag up sluggishly, the chains of the strap clacking against your countertop. Patience is a ticking time bomb when you’re this inebriated, the heavy bass from earlier tonight still thumping its way within your brain. 

You can’t think straight. 

“Satoru,” a name now foreign but still so close to home; it burns on your tongue, trickles bittersweet down your throat, “you called. What do you need?” 

It’s stupid of you to ask, you know, because Gojo’s been calling you like this since the day you broke up months ago. You’d picked up the first few times, but quickly realized that it wasn’t good for the both of you—you’d never move on, and Gojo would never let you go. 

Except—

“You picked up.” 

—liquor makes for poor company when it only serves to soften the anger you’ve built up as protection. It really is all the alcohol’s fault. 

Your eyes burn as you squeeze them shut, sighing, a twisted exhale, “You have to stop, Satoru.” 

“Stop what?” he feigns, the lilt at the end a sure sign of the most insufferable smirk. 

The thought of it makes you sick, makes you ache with memories of pinching his nose at the sight of it. He used to giggle then; now, he chuckles on the other end. 

That’s the question, isn’t it? Stop what?

Since the break-up, Gojo’s been acting like nothing’s changed. He still calls you just as much, still texts you with undertones that tread the fine line between flirty and ‘just Gojo’. Your toiletries are still at his apartment, and his clothes are still in your closet. 

You’d find humor in it if not for the fact that all of it has been so goddamn confusing.

He started it; he broke up with you. 

Shouldn’t he be pushing you away? 

To this day, you have no full closure, no other reason other than an ‘it’s better this way’ followed by a continuous stream of mixed signals because how he treats you is still the same. 

“Stop calling,” a lump forms in your throat, an admission you’ve had to remind yourself again and again, “we’re not together anymore.”

“I can’t call a friend?” 

You snort, fiddling with the metal links of your bag strap, “Is that what we are?” 

A pause. Slippers shifting on floorboards. They sound just like the sleepless nights he’d shuffle out of bed. 

You can picture him on the other end, head tilted and leant back on the plush leather of his couch. He hums but doesn’t answer you—he never does when it can mean something. 

“You still sound the same.” 

And you don’t expect it at this moment, to get so choked up over how he sounds over radio waves, but he says the words a little too fondly for you not to notice. Gojo’s always teased that he can pinpoint your voice from the moment you speak the first word.

You don’t mean to give him any more authority over your feelings than he already has, but the words slip out before you can catch yourself, “You’re being unfair.”  

Another hum. His tone shifts to something lighter, more teasing, “Like you aren’t. Always typing, never sending…”

The huff that punctuates his sentences paints itself vividly with a small pout. 

“Stop staring at my chat box then.” is all you can muster, the ache spreading throughout your chest. 

“Afraid I can’t.”

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“You’re impossible.” your eyes begin to feel wet, your sniffle concealing itself as you clear your throat. 

The silence that follows is uncharacteristic of your relationship with Gojo, even more of the man you know, but you find it filled to the brim with all the possibilities of what went wrong—of things you know he’ll never say out loud.

You know Gojo has issues; they presented themselves well enough in the year you were together. Being with him is accepting that you’ll be reading between the lines your entire life. 

He is simultaneously touchy but distant, vocal but elusive in his affections; he drapes himself over you every chance he gets, but when you touch him in places no one else has, you think a storm swirls cyan in his irises. Gojo gives compliments like candies on Halloween, but he keeps his feelings close to his chest, locked away like presents tightly wrapped under a Christmas tree. 

This is why you never saw it coming. 

This is why there was no hint, no sign of him ever wanting to break things off when he did.

‘Let’s stop dating’ with no warning. 

“Had fun tonight?” he asks so casually, like it doesn’t tell you a million things—how he still has your location on his phone, how he’s still checking on you, Six Eyes or not. 

Tonight was okay, all things considered. You don’t go to clubs often, but your friends kept you company; the music boomed just a tad bit louder than you’re used to, and the drinks were good, but—

“You would have hated it.” 

If Gojo were there, you would have stayed 10 minutes tops. He’d whine about being bored but you’d be able to tell, from the slight furrow of his brows and the clenching of his jaw that it’s because one of his migraines is forming. 

“Good thing I’d have you, then.” 

There are half-truths in jokes like this, a dangerous thing to say when you both know he could still have you if he wanted.

“Stop flirting, it’s annoying.” you try to steel your voice, pushing down the false hope rising in your chest. 

“You love it, though.”

The pain sears you, hurts when he says the word so lightly, as if he isn’t aware that you know love is the reason he had to break things off prematurely. As if he doesn’t know that you’re still in love with him, that you’re still putting faith in a tragedy. 

“Do you even know what loving something feels like?” 

The line remains silent, save for the softest sound of his breath hitching. 

You must have hit a nerve. 

He hums, an expected answer, but then he mumbles, words spoken so faintly, so quietly, you’re surprised they even came through. 

“Yeah, I do.”

a/n: wanted to use this as dialogue practice because i think gojo’s dialogue is one of the trickiest to nail! i also found it so fun exploring this kind of dynamic with him!! i subtly hint on some of gojo’s personal issues but don’t explicitly state it to leave room for interpretation! the ending is ambiguous for that same reason.

thank you notes: @stellamancer for helping me out so much with this 🥺 practically beta-ing it, really 🥺 ily niku 🥺 in my head, gojo does not exist without you 🥺 & @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat @scarabrat @soumies for being my lil cheerleaders always 🥺 ily all 🥺

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡