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fangirl-dot-com · 6 months ago

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✉️Divorce of Convenience

*part of the reverse trope series*

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Wife!Reader Genre: Fluff/Mischief/Miscommunication Summary: Oscar as your first everything: love, boyfriend, husband. You never had to go through any type of heartbreak ever. With Taylor Swift's new album, you yearn for a deeper connection with the songs. What's a better way than to ask your husband for a weekend divorce?

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Oscar knew something was up the moment you started smirking behind your phone as you lounged on the couch. His hand was mindlessly rubbing one of your ankles that was currently propped up on his lap. There was a week in between Monaco and Canada, which gave him time to come straight home to you.

Photographs littered the walls of your home. Some from the very early days of grade school, where you and Oscar first met. And then some of grades 9 through 12 and Oscar’s karting and Formula racing, which marked the first four years of your relationship. The engagement pictures and wedding pictures followed a year later.

There were a couple of pictures from 2023, signifying Oscar’s first year in McLaren. There were few from this year, as Oscar got busier, but you managed to pick some out to print. However, the Aussie really didn’t notice them at first, too busy wrapping you in his arms when he got home from the double-header.

Another giggle made him actually look at you, eyebrow raised.

“What’s got you all smiley?”

You huffed as you put your phone down in your lap.

“Taylor Swift came out with a new album, and people on Tik Tok are hilarious.”

He rolled his eyes. He knew that there was more to it.

“And?”

“I’m just thinking about how if we ever went through a breakup, I could relate to some of the songs on a deeper level.”

You sat up to scooch closer to your husband, now touching shoulders as you showed him a video of a woman crying to one of the new songs. Oscar was having a hard time realizing why this was funny to you.

“What if we got a divorce?”

Oh.

Oscar whipped his head toward you, hair swishing. “You want to do what?”

You huffed again, lightly rolling your eyes. “A divorce for like just a bit, so that I can really get to Taylor’s level.”

Oscar’s head reeled back. “Why on earth would you want to do that?”

He was getting a bit self-conscious. Was this your way of silently telling him that you weren’t satisfied being married to him? Was he away too much? Were you bored without him here? Did you want to come to more races with him?

“Ossie, it’s not what you think,” you said as you waved your hands around. Your husband crossed his arms, not entirely impressed.

“What I’m thinking is that you’re not happy with me anymore.”

You wanted to melt into the couch as his sad expression. There wasn’t much difference between him and his new “brother” Leo in terms of puppy eyes. You gently put your hands on his cheeks and made him look at you.

“Oscar you should know better. There isn’t anyone else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.”

He pouted slightly. “Then why do you want to get a ‘divorce’ if you’re still happy.”

You looked down at your lap as you took your hands away from his face. Your fingers started to pick at the skin around your nails. Now that you thought about it, your idea was childish and dramatic. Why would you want to get a divorce when you were happily married to the love of your life.

“Hey.” It was Oscar’s turn to turn your head to look at him. “Just tell me. I’m having a hard time understanding.”

“You were my first everything, you know this. I’ve never gone through a bad breakup or heartbreak, and sometimes I wish that I could experience that.”

He gave you a look. “I understand.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “You do?”

A nod was your answer. “It’s a part of growing up that you didn’t get to go through.”

Nervous giggles fell through your lips, which turned into actual laughing. You fell forward into Oscar’s lap, making him laugh with you. When all giggles and laughs had subsided, he gave you a quick peck on your lips.

The McLaren driver started to calculate things in his head. “Saur, you want to get a divorce, to listen to some songs for a few hours, and then?”

You bumped him lightly with your shoulder. “Not an actual divorce Ossie. Just, if lots of people believe that we’re getting a divorce then it’s technically true?”

Even you didn’t sound 100 percent sure.

Oscar turned his body to fully face you. Now it was his turn to smirk, knowing what you wanted to do. He was never above creating some mischief online. Heck, his tweets went viral for stirring up the media.

“So, how are we going to do this?”

What Osar wasn’t ready for, was for you to have a 10-step plan for this. He should have been ready for your antics; he had been with you for most of your life. You suddenly stopped talking mid-sentence, your eyes widening, raising some concern in Oscar.

“What’s wrong?”

“We can’t tell Lando.”

With that the plan went into motion. Step one was to cry in the car, which seemed easy enough as you chose to watch some sad edits on TikTok. It was perfect. Your mascara ran enough for the cameras to pick up on it.

The second step was simple. You had a friend who just so happened to work at the Melbourne Law Firm. You had previously wanted to bring her lunch one day, and it worked perfectly for the plan. You knew that people were following you, which made it even better. On your way out, you took a small coffee from the lobby, and then sat in your car for a moment.

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y/nl/n you drew stars around my scars, but down I'm bleeding

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y/nsworld guys. . . SOMEONE WAKE ME UP FROM THIS NIGHTMARE 😩

ossie&n/n THEY HIT THE PENTAGON

landonorris you want to REPLY TO MY MESSAGES??

charles_leclerc please also respond to your favorite father-in-law

maxverstappen1 answer them cause they're threatening to fly to Australia and they're going to take me with them

piastriduo she changed her username 🥺😭

y/nswife I can't be a child of divorce, it's too early

Third, Oscar would make a public appearance the day after. Some paparazzi had spotted him, making him fly the bird at the cameras. The McLaren driver quickly turned around and headed back to his car, wanting to now get home.

Except, Oscar wasn’t expecting to be jumped the moment he wanted to get out of the house for the weekend. You had decided to go out shopping, keeping your head low. He knew he should also have kept his head low. A hand reached out and grabbed him, pulling him into a random bookstore. He had half a mind to start yelling “stranger danger,” but these were no strangers.

“Lando, Max, Charles? What is this?”

Lando’s finger pressed into his chest, making him wince a bit. The Briton had anger in his eyes, along with Charles and Max also glaring.

Lando hissed, “This is an intervention. Why did you divorce Y/n? She was literally your life mate. You freakin’ muppet.”

Charles decided to put his piece in. “Did something happen? You two were so happy in Australia and Miami.”

“Or did she do something?” the Dutchman asked, making Oscar immediately shake his head. He looked down at the floor.

“We just decided that it wasn’t working any more. I’ve been too busy with racing and she got a new job here.”

Lando scoffed. “Utter bullshit, that’s what that is.”

Charles looked like a kicked puppy. “Mate. Is there no way to reconnect?”

Oscar crossed his arms, trying to seem more intimidating. “We fought and it’s over. She already gave me the papers and they’re signed. End of story.”

“Babe, you didn’t tell me that you were shopping here too! I found this new book . . . oh.”

Shit.

You blinked, looking at the three men who were cornering your husband. This was not in the 10-step plan. You were about to say something, but Lando quickly walked over to you. You expected some yelling, but he pulled you to the side. It was intense eye contact for a moment.

“Did Oscar cheat?”

“What?”

He gasped. “Did you cheat?”

You huffed. “Lando, no one cheated.”

The kid looked like a kicked puppy, even though he was older than you. He threw his hands up in the air, pretty exasperated.

“Why did you two get a divorce?”

The sheer volume of his voice made a few heads turn, making you wince a bit. You tugged his arm and pulled him back to the group of three. The Briton may have dragged his feet just a bit, only because he didn’t want to have this awkward conversation with you and his teammate.

You tilted your head just a bit. “Can we have this conversation somewhere else?”

They shrugged and followed you, even into the car since they had all walked. And instead of getting into the back seats of your SUV, Lando, Charles, and Max squished into the first row. Their eyes did widen when your hand clasped Oscar’s as you drove off.

Lando leaned over to Max and whispered pretty loudly, “Why are they holding hands?”

The Dutchman “whispered” back, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s some weird kink?”

You hit the brakes as you came to a stop light, making Lando and Max jolt. Charles sat still in his seat, already bracing himself since he wasn’t yapping. Well, at least not yet.

You took this moment to quickly turn around and stare at them, silently telling them to shut their mouths. Oscar bit back a smile as he heard Max and Lando suck in a breath. He sighed in relief as you pulled into the garage. Ever such a gentleman, he hopped out to run around and open your door.

He pressed a kiss against your cheek.

“This was your idea remember?” he muttered, guiding you into the house, the three other drivers silently following you.

You took your time to put your new books away before you went to sit on the couch. Oscar handed you a glass of water, which you thankfully took. You wanted to laugh as you watched Max, Charles, and Lando squirm.

“You have a very lovely house,” Charles mentioned, trying to break the silence. He was successful as you gave them a soft smile.

“Thank you, Charles. Oscar bought it for us after he signed with McLaren.”

Lando remembered the day that the Aussie had told him about the purchase. Oscar had been so excited to truly start your life with each other. The apartment that you two had before was getting small. But now, sitting in front of you when divorce was on the line, he truly wondered what all went wrong.

He clapped his hands, ending the conversation that you were having with Charles about paint colors.

Lando pointed at you and Oscar. “Enough. What is going on?”

You stifled a laugh before trying to clear the air. “Lando, there was never a real divorce. The gossip pages just ran with a rumor.”

Max butted in. “But the law firm, your Instagram post?”

Oscar reached over and took your hand in his. “You three know that we’re high school sweethearts, and before that, childhood friends.”

Lando looked confused. “And what does that have anything to do with this?”

“Mate,” Oscar started, “it has everything to do with it. Because we’ve been together since we were younger, there wasn’t time for normal teenager things like breakups or heart break.”

“So,” you added, “we,” Oscar gave you a look, “I thought it might be fun to pretend to get a divorce.”

No one said a word.

Lando then fell to his knees and kissed your carpet. “Thank God. I don’t think I could handle a sad Oscar every single weekend.”

You patted him on the shoulder. “I don’t think I’d ever want to live without him. And I couldn’t pass the opportunity to not travel around the world.”

Your husband gasped a bit while he put his hand on his heart. “You wound me woman. I knew you were with me for my money.”

You wiggled your eyebrows. “But of course, darling. What else would you be good for?”

Max put his head in his hands. “They’re made for each other. This is gross.”

You quickly stood from your couch. “Well, I think it’s time for dinner. Ossie?”

The man in question blushed at the nickname, while the other three cooed at them. He turned to give them a stink eye, effectively shutting them up.

As you started to get some pans out for dinner, you found yourself with a human backpack. Oscar pressed his face into your neck, sighing deeply. There weren’t many moments that the two of you got to be domestic like this. And it would have been romantic, except for Lando’s squealing as he looked around at the pictures on the wall.

“Osc, is this you in grade school? Where did the cheeks go, mate?”

“Lando, get away from the pictures.”

“But Osc, you were such a cute kid. What happened?”

“You happened.”

“Osc!”

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oscarpiastri she's mine for the rest of time ❤️

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ossie&n/n WAAAARRRR IISSSS OOOVVEERRRRR

y/nsworld I have never been more thankful for rumors

y/nl/n ossieeeee 🥺

y/nl/n I love youuuuuuu (you're never getting rid of meeee)

oscarpiastri I love you too (pls change your user back)

y/nl/n i have to wait 2 weeks (stupid instagram)

landonorris so glad to see you in the paddock 🙌

y/nl/n good to see you too loser

piastriupdates my parents ☺️

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hop3wrlds · 10 months ago

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astro observations/sun signs.

✉️ note: my first astro post on here ໒꒰ྀི⊂˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶⊃꒱ྀི১ finally !!

☆ aries suns try really hard to be the favorite child, particularly towards their fathers, they won’t admit this aloud.

☆ taurus suns view what others see as luxury, as a necessity.

☆ gemini suns like to think themselves above gossip, but they’ll always engage in it if presented, and they love it !

☆ cancer suns consider blind devotion real loyalty.

☆ leo suns LOVE flimsy cut-out clothing (think bralette/panty sets, lingerie.)

☆ virgo suns have “cutely” cluttered spaces lol. their nightstand is a mess but it’s a decorative mess.

☆ libra suns are obsessed with body jewelry.

☆ scorpio suns aren’t mysterious but silent and observational. they like to hide behind the “mysterious” stereotype.

☆ sagittarius suns may appear very cold/nonchalant, but are very warm n giddy when conversing.

☆ capricorn suns do not show their real self to the public.

☆ aquarius suns are the ones who will come up to you on a tuesday afternoon asking: “have you ever thought about the socioeconomic state of our world?”

☆ pisces suns are very extremist. they are either completely trusting of something/someone or not at all.

✉️ note: like most astro enthusiasts n professionals, i'm not a huge fan of signology, but i wanted to do something fun catered towards beginners w this post ♡. like n follow for more, asks open!

©️2024 hop3wrIds

#astrology #astrology observations #zodiac signs #aries sun #taurus sun #gemini sun #cancer sun #leo sun #virgo sun #libra sun #scorpio sun #sagittarius sun #capricorn sun #aquarius sun #pisces sun #astro notes #astrology community

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nariism · 5 months ago

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wherever you are, wherever you may be — i. rin

soulmates (name au) + "i'm done waiting."

synopsis. itoshi rin meets you under a sky full of fireworks. he spends the next 6 years of his life trying to convince himself that he doesn't love you. you spend the next 6 years giving him every reason why he should.

wc. 12.4k (i need to close my eyes and sleep for a while)

notes. huge thank you to ellie (@hyomagiri) and mari (@saetoshi) for helping me with this 🥹 this fic actually put me through it and i'm so grateful to both of them for their support 💗

— for my beloved @ode2rin 💐 | event masterlist ✉️

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

2024

Every year on the seventh day of the seventh month, Itoshi Rin finds himself standing at the daunting entrance to his local shrine.

The tradition is completely beneath him—something childish that he grumbles about under his breath despite letting you drag him all the way out here with soft eyes watching your smile.

Tanabata is the festival of stars. Of love.

It is a story his mother used to whisper to him as they watched the night sky in awe, pretending that the galaxy was collapsing in on itself to allow for a romantic midnight rendezvous between two lovers.

It’s something far too sappy for his liking.

But the food is okay, he supposes, and it’s a good opportunity to get out of the house and spend time with you which he seldom has time to do now that he’s back in his training season.

There were too many things about it that he loathed: the screaming children that would bump into his legs; the way his ears would stay ringing for days after the festival ended; how you could always convince him to come as if you were some sort of hypnotic devil in disguise, and how thoroughly wounded his pride would be at that fact.

However, his least favourite part of the festival by far is writing down his wish for the year on a scrap piece of paper and hanging it around a bamboo tree. One, because he can never for the life of him think of anything meaningful to wish for. And two, because he isn’t sure he even believes in that sort of thing.

Rin is struggling again this year, pencil lightly scratching his temple as he thinks.

He’s painfully aware that he’s never put so much thought into this before, but you seemed so excited to come all the way here before heading to the festivities that he couldn’t possibly let you down.

His wish dawns on him then, something he wants to do before the next time he makes the climb all the way back up here 365 days from now.

“Hey,” your voice calls out quietly. “What did you wish for?”

“What did you wish for?” Rin quickly refutes.

You cast your narrowed eyes from the side, tilting your little slip of yellow paper away from him.

“Only if I get to see yours first.”

Normally, he would give in to you right away. His resolve when it comes to you is embarrassingly weak. But there’s no way for him to explain himself. No way he could show you the words he’s written lest he hurt his ego.

He stubbornly folds up the piece of paper and shoves your face away. All you do is laugh and he feels terribly warm.

“No peeking,” he tells you when you kiss across his fingertips.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

2018

A name appeared for Itoshi Rin when he turned thirteen years old.

He remembers the day well—it was hard to forget, anyway. As much as he wanted to focus on the burning of the name etching its way down his skin, he couldn’t. Not when he was blinking snow out of his lashes and watching his brother’s retreating back.

Rin likes to think that the universe fucks with him in any way that it can.

Maybe he had done something terrible in his past life and this was its karmic retribution, or maybe he was just unlucky.

What he does know is this: the name on his pinky only reminds him of all the things he ever lost.

Every syllable struck needles into his heart—a painful memory of crawling after the tracks of the wheels Sae left behind with his luggage until gravel and ice were stuck under his nails. Or worse, the clawing of his throat as they sat across from each other at dinner—the way he didn't even smile when Rin announced to his parents that his soulmate mark had appeared while his mother cried out in joy.

In fact, Sae didn’t talk to him for the rest of his visit. He remembers that hurt the most.

The name had haunted him for all the remaining years of his life—a forced memory that he wished he could forget. There came with it a feeling of loneliness that crushed him despite the proof on his pinky that there was another soul wandering the earth that would fix him.

He refused to believe it.

Only revenge would fix him. Only proving himself better would heal the cracks in his heart. Only beating Sae. Sae, Sae, Sae. His brother’s name had been repeated so many times that it was easy to ignore the other burning his skin.

In all those years he found it easy to cast aside his soulmate. To ignore it even if it hurt.

So he wonders why it’s so bad tonight.

He’s done everything he could think of: slathering cooling ointment down his finger to stop the searing, wrapping it in a cast to prevent himself from admiring it for too long, even tying a wish to a piece of bamboo hoping it would disappear.

A finger snaps in front of his face, drawing his attention to his teammates in front of him. Both look equally amused.

“You’re dreaming,” Isagi muses. “You’ve been spacing out all night. Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” Rin mutters, swatting his teammate’s hand away from him. He had been staring again, longingly eyeing the way the letters danced down his skin. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“None of your business.”

“Yeesh, it’s not good to keep things bottled up, you know?”

“You’re annoying,” Rin glowers before it melts back into indifference. “I’m fine,” he reiterates.

Isagi seems unconvinced, as he usually is when Rin is being mysteriously vague about what’s on his mind. He and Bachira share a tentative glance before sighing and shaking their heads.

“Well… okay,” he finally yields. “We’re going to get some snacks before the fireworks start. If you’re going to sulk then at least stay put and do it here so we can find you again.”

“Yeah,” Rin grumbles, already making an escape plan. “Whatever. Will do.”

As soon as the boys are out of sight, he turns heel and hurries away. The crowd is driving him crazy and he needs somewhere quiet so he can stare at his hands until his eyes are dry.

He comes to a pond situated just outside of the festival grounds, deep water glimmering under the moon and the passing lanterns.

Plopping down on the bench, he hunches over onto his knees with his elbows and takes a deep breath. It instead comes shallow, as if someone has just punched him in the gut.

It’s then that he realizes he’s not alone.

Your yukata is muddy, fabric soaked and dripping at the sleeves though you don’t seem to care or even notice. You look frustrated for some reason, lip curled into a concentrated frown while you plunge your hands into the mud around the edge of the water.

Away from the crowds of people, he can hear the summer song of cicadas chirping all around. Your hands dip in and out of the water, quiet splashes filling the rest of the silence on top of the distant buzz of children laughing.

It’s just you and him. Something primal inside of him rages, pounding against his chest until it feels like he’s suffocating.

Run. Run. Run.

His legs jerk, urging him to stand up and leave, but he feels glued down to the bench—tethered where he sits and forced to watch you repeatedly sink your hands into the muddy waters.

No more than five minutes must pass as you both ignore each other, yet it feels like an eternity stretches by.

Finally, you pipe up.

“You’re scaring them,” you tell him plainly.

His head whips in your direction at your voice, soft and careful. His teal eyes narrow at you. “Huh?”

Your frown deepens, turning to look at him with your hands still submerged. “The frogs.”

“Come again?”

“Your vibes. It’s scaring the frogs away.”

His eye twitches.

“Ever consider that you’re just dogshit at catching them?”

“Excuse me?”

“And look at you, making a total mess of yourself. Don’t you care that you have to go home looking like that?” He presses, leering at you like an insect he’s about to crush under his heel. You simply stare at him, expression blank.

Huffing, you tear away from him and sink your hands beneath the mud. “No. I don’t.”

He watches in silence as you sift around for a moment before pulling your hands up, a smile slowly morphing into your face.

“I got one…” You breathe, looking more elated than he thinks you should. “I really caught one.”

“First time?” He quips sarcastically. A part of him wonders why he hasn’t gotten up and left you altogether yet.

“Cut me some slack,” you complain, eyeing him from the side again. You gently run a finger along the back of the frog, trying not to scare it away. “I haven’t done this in forever.”

“Clearly.”

You snort. “Yeah. Clearly.”

Rin looks at you quizzically, puzzled at your sudden change in demeanor. You seem… softer. Less agitated, at the very least. You’re gazing at the frog adoringly, as if it had somehow solved all of your problems and was dragging you into another world.

Any retort he had ready to shoot at you dies in his mouth. The anger rising in his chest extinguishes in the blink of an eye, and a deep hush settles over you as he watches in curiosity.

For a moment, the universe goes quiet. He’s gotten so used to having everything on his mind all at once that the silence is almost unnerving.

He once believed that his world would end with an injury that never healed quite right, or when he was too old for any team to want him.

He once believed that his world would end when he could no longer imagine the feel of a ball between his palms.

He once believed that his world would end the day he couldn’t play football anymore—that the only thing that would ever kill him was if the chance of standing alongside his brother died with him.

But he was wrong.

Itoshi Rin’s world ends with the bellow of a firework.

In a few years, he would think of this stretch of a few seconds fondly. He would squeeze you a little tighter with his chin resting on your shoulder, staring up at a colourful sky. He would think it was poetic, in a way, that you were the one who painted his world in the same hues of shimmering gold.

Rin remembers, though, that only one thought had crossed his mind.

I’m so screwed.

He can see every fine detail of your face, illuminated in all the colours of the rainbow. And he can’t help but think you are the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. He can trace each intricate curve of your nose to your chin to the surprised parting of your lips; the way your lashes flutter as you blink rapidly, tensed from the sudden explosion.

The light fades faster than it appeared, yet it feels like a millennium has passed. The reverbing echo of the firework crackles across the sky, thundering in his ears so loud that he can feel it pounding in his chest.

(Or is that his heart? He can’t tell. He feels dizzy.)

Darkness envelops your bodies again, save for the dim glow of distant lanterns. Every part of you is seared into his memory, a floating image when he blinks.

The frog leaps from your hands back into the water, leaving nothing but ripples behind.

You stay there with your hands outstretched, looking lonely under the dark sky. Another one goes off above your heads, signalling the start of the display.

“There you are, Rin!” Bachira and Isagi come rushing over from the path, excited smiles and mirth bubbling in their laughs as they approach. “We thought you went home without us already!”

Rin slowly blinks out of his reverie. For a second, he glances in your direction again just to catch your eyes.

“I almost did,” he grumbles, forcing himself not to stare.

“Fireworks are starting!” Isagi yanks Rin to his feet and begins dragging him away before he can even protest.

Without turning around, he can feel the weight of your eyes in the back of his head. There’s an unfamiliar ache in his chest, and the name etched down his pinky burns infinitely hot.

Later at home, he stares at the spot where Sae used to sit back when he still came to Japan for anything other than to take a new passport photo.

“My soulmate’s name showed up,” he had mumbled that night to break the tense silence. It was strange that he still felt like he owed his brother that much—to make his visit as normal as possible despite having his heart carved open.

Sae only looked at him blankly, spoon halting just above his bowl. He was eerily still, quietly deciding how to react. Then,

“Good for you,” he said. And nothing more.

Rin squeezes his eyes shut and he feels warmth rolling down his cheeks. He quickly wipes the tears away, pretending as if they never existed.

He spends the rest of the night trying to forget your face.

(And the next year trying to recreate it in his dreams.)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

2019

Rin makes it another 275 days before he finally remembers every piece of the puzzle that is your existence.

He saw you in his sleep. The back of your head, anyway.

You were sitting in his favourite café, at the table he claimed for himself right by the window. You ordered a coffee but let it sit for so long that the ice melted. Then, you wiped up the condensation rolling down the frosty glass with your finger.

Rin watched you from afar, observing you the way he wished he did last summer.

Maybe then he could have dived deep into the recesses of his brain to remember why exactly you struck him so. But there he was, stuck watching the back of your head as you gazed out the window.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Your fingers drummed mindlessly against the wooden table, reciting a rhythm just slightly louder than the pounding of his own heart.

“Can you leave me alone?” He finally called out, hoping it would stop your incessant beating.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“You’re annoying me,” he hissed. Annoying for disturbing his peace and quiet. Annoying for plaguing his dreams even after all these days.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Seriously,” he grunted, standing up from his seat so fast that the chair scraped horribly against the wooden floor. Still, you didn’t pay him any mind, instead more interested in the faceless people walking by. “Knock it off!”

Tap.

He bit the inside of his cheek in hesitation, the itch in the back of his mind ever present. “What’s your name?”

Silence.

You finally turned his way. Slowly. Agonizingly slow. And Rin was right—you were still so beautiful, 275 days later.

Grinning at him big and bright, you almost seemed to collapse in on yourself with joy. Like a star about to implode, or maybe more akin to a firework.

Either way, his breath was stolen from him.

You silently mouthed your name, making sure he saw every vowel and accentuated syllable. Warmth flooded him in every way—probably brought on by the racing of his heart.

It was impossible that his soulmate was someone like this. Someone whose smile looked like it could heal even the deepest wounds.

You grabbed his attention again with a big wave of the arms, and he watched in anticipation.

“You’re—”

Rin followed your mouth as you sounded out the words without a voice.

“—smiling!”

He reached up to run his fingers along his bottom lip. And you were right, he realized, as he traced it midway up his cheek.

(When did he start smiling?)

(Why?)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Rin thinks about you just as much in the waking world as he does in his dreams.

It’s spring, though snow is still settled over the eaves of homes that he passes on the way to the grocery store. Apparently the winter cold is supposed to be especially long and bitter this year, permeating until mid-May.

He stares at his feet as they mark the virgin snow, decorating his sneakers white and making his feet cold.

Did you walk through the same snow this morning?

Then, when he’s going through the motion of smelling the bottom of pineapples at the store:

Do you like pineapple? What if you’re allergic?

(He shakes his head and puts them away. He suddenly isn’t craving it.)

His obsession with you has only intensified as the year has gone on. If you ever peered into his mind, he would receive a well-deserved slap across the face.

The soulmate mark engraved down his pinky has never bothered him so badly.

It’s like you’re constantly with him—a ghost haunting him, or perhaps more like a curse. Thinking about you takes up unnecessary space in his head. Space that should be dedicated to football, and football only.

He's about to go home so he can make a list outlining the ways he can forget about you.

(Ironic, he knows, but in all honesty he already exhausted all of his options from his first list.)

But then he comes to a stop outside of his favourite café. It looks the same, even has the same advertisements plastered in the window as the last time he was here.

He hesitates at the door, but when he walks in it smells the same. It's decorated the same. Not a single table is out of place.

He walks up to his regular spot, runs his fingers along the wood where he remembers you tapping in his dream.

There's no sign of your existence here.

Rin shakes his head in annoyance, cursing himself out in his head because he was stupid enough to think he would run into you here.

Then disappointment floods his body, like a dam had been released in his chest and it's flowing unstoppably to every piece of him.

(Wait, why is he disappointed? He really needs to take a nap.)

He runs his hand through his hair as a nervous reflex, simultaneously relieved and irritated that you're nowhere to be seen.

It takes him a minute to recollect himself, to realize that he probably looks like a crazy person just standing beside an empty table like a lost child who doesn't know where to go, and decides to just go home.

He pulls into the line to get a drink for his walk home when—

"Thanks!"

His heart drops.

You waltz out of the back, tying your apron around your waist as you exchange spots in the break room with one of your coworkers.

Rin is about to die, seriously. You must be new here, since he's been to this café more times than he can count and he's never seen you before. Or was it that he was specifically looking out for you this time?

Whatever the reason, he's dumbfounded.

“Hey,” your acknowledgment makes him freeze in his spot. “Frog guy?”

He looks at you stupidly, rubbing his eyes like a cartoon character as if he’s imagining you standing right in front of him.

His gaze drifts down to your name tag, fresh and newly printed with white marker. Signed at the end is a little flower, petals swirled into tiny hearts.

Your existence before him is undeniable.

"Um. Yeah," he sputters in disbelief.

"I..." You clear your throat, looking as bewildered as he feels. "I didn't think I'd see you again."

'You're my soulmate. Of course we'd run into each other,' he thinks to himself. Out loud, though:

"Yeah. Me neither."

The person behind him in line coughs quietly, impatiently tapping their foot. Rin takes the hint and quietly tells you what he wants. You lean in across the counter to hear him better, and his face grows warm.

Once you fill in the boxes on the cup, you place it down and move it to the side for someone to fill. It catches his eye immediately.

Itoshi Rin is scribbled neatly down the side of his cup.

“How did you...?”

You awkwardly shift in your spot, evidently embarrassed as you fiddle with the strings of your apron. Then, with your own hands.

“W-Well…”

His eyes dare to drop down to where your thumb is nervously slathering up and down the name on your pinky.

“Oh.”

"Sorry, I just figured—"

"It's fine," he interrupts. Your mouth snaps shut.

Tense silence stretches thin in the air, ready to shatter at any moment. But for some reason, he feels as though he's choking on nothing.

You fumble over the emptiness, quickly snatching up the cup to make his drink yourself after deciding it's too awkward to just stand there.

He watches you in a daze, half shaken and half in awe. Never in a million years would he have thought a dream would lead him back to you.

When you turn back around with a full cup, you look equally stunned.

“Itoshi—”

“Rin. It’s just Rin.”

You look at him in surprise, lashes fluttering rapidly as you let it sink in.

It's not your fault. You don't know that it's a sore spot that he just so happens to share the same last name with the person he despises most in the world.

It's not your fault that he has a quick temper and his voice raises slightly, enough to make you flinch back just a tiny bit.

And it's definitely not your fault that it stings so much—that he had expected you to speak to him as if you'd already known him for a lifetime and not as if you were just two strangers looking at each other from across a bar counter.

“O-Okay," you take a deep breath, cheeks puffed out and expression unreadable.

You slide the cup across the counter and he catches it in his hand.

He debates whether or not he should say more, like apologize for snapping at you. But then someone calls you by your name, and the way it rolls so beautifully off their tongue catches him off guard.

"Sorry. See you, Rin," you smile sweetly. Maybe a little awkwardly, a small step toward the one he dreamed about. And his heart is set in motion.

Rin decides that today won't be the day.

Another day, he'll be brave enough to crack a joke so dry that you try and scrub his name off your skin. And another day, he will ask for your number because, yeah, you might be the most alluring person he's ever met.

As he turns to take his leave after just staring at the spot you were standing in for a solid few seconds, he can hear some of the other baristas clamouring for you.

He doesn't want to look. Really, honestly, he doesn't.

But he does anyway.

It's just a quick glance over his shoulder—nothing more than a fleeting moment as he takes the chance to look at you one more time.

Those two seconds is all it takes for him to realize just how much trouble he's in.

You're laughing big and toothy, waving your hand in front of your face dismissively as your coworkers poke fun at how flustered you are. Then your hands are clasped over your stomach and you've doubled down a little in your awkward fit.

His heart has never beat so loud in his own ears.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Itoshi Rin used to smile just for the sake of smiling, once upon a time.

He had aunties who would pinch him by the cheek and fawn over him, cooing about how he looked just like his mother. How his face would cherub and the apples of his cheeks were bright red. Even when he grew out of his baby face, people would tell him how wonderful his smile was.

Sae rarely ever smiled, so it was something exclusive. He never felt like he was standing in his shadow. It was special—the kind of praise only one Itoshi would know.

Rin has forgotten how to smile like that.

He smiles to be polite to his family, if ever. Even then, it's not like he owes them that much. At some point, it became too much effort. And he had no reason to do it.

It was always a tiny thought bothering him in the back of his mind:

I'll never meet my soulmate if I'm always scowling like this.

He thought that was what he wanted, anyway. He wouldn't need to worry about running into his soulmate if no one ever looked his way. If everyone feared him enough not to spare him a second glance.

He doubts everything he ever thought as he sits on the edge of his bed staring at his desk.

It's lit up by a single lamp, shining down on his empty coffee cup like a spotlight opened up by the heavens themselves.

Your phone number is written just below his name.

Rin had almost tossed it into the trash without a second thought earlier in the day. He would have, if it weren't for the loose dog that blitzed by him and made him drop it.

Fate just loves to mess with him.

He picked it up and his thumb had stopped over the number. It was written so small, as if you had wanted him to miss it. Or perhaps you wanted to test destiny yourself—to see if the planets would align and he would discover your seven digits there for him to find.

And now he's home. He's been home, just looking. Contemplating. Stressing.

He migrates from the edge of the bed and settles into his desk chair. Then he gets up, moves back to the bed, and flops down. An endless cycle, back and forth, pushing and pulling.

Rin plops down onto his desk seat and sighs in frustration, ruffling his hair around before his forehead slams into the table.

Every part of his mind screams at him to stop. To toss the cup away and forget today ever happened. His head raises from his arms and he stares at the set of numbers illuminated on the paper, taunting him.

Finally, he exhales through his nose, sitting up straight and reaching for the cup to toss. His fingers delicately brush along your phone number.

“So dumb…” He huffs, eventually finding his phone instead and opening his contacts.

It’s nearly midnight. He tries to imagine your face as you wait by your phone for a message from him, that stupidly hopeful glimmer in your eyes, and he feels sick to his stomach as he sends it.

Rin: hey. it’s rin.

He throws his phone down on the desk again, screen down so he can’t cringe at himself. A few minutes pass in complete silence as he sulks.

He considers that you may have gone to bed already, or you were offended by the fact that he ignored your offer to connect all day and instantly blocked him. Maybe you thought he never saw your number at all.

Then his phone buzzes. His body moves on autopilot, snatching it up faster than he can realize what he’s doing. He’s halfway through the embarrassing thought that he just immediately read your message after you sent it as your text sinks in.

Unknown: hi! it’s great to hear from you ヾ(〃^∇^)ﾉ

Unknown: i was starting to think you were never gonna text lol

Rin: i wasn’t

He chews his lip for a moment before quickly following up:

Rin: but i changed my mind. just cause.

Unknown: hahaha got it got it. ‘just cause’ (˘◡˘)

Unknown: rin

Unknown: wait nvm

Unknown: whatever

Unknown: rin

Rin: what

Unknown: let’s get coffee ^ ^

He stares at the screen in disbelief, watching the typing bubble pop up and disappear again and again. He can imagine again what kind of smile you must have on your face right now, or maybe you look flustered, or maybe this all means nothing to you at all and this is your way of being polite.

Regardless of the reason, he eventually types out his response.

Rin: ok

Christ, he’s so tepid.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

2020

He comes to memorize every part of you, like how the sun kisses the horizon and the moon knows the tides.

Intimately, almost—if he didn’t overthink the way your touch lingered on him he could easily ignore the way it made his heart pound in his ears.

Rin learns the feeling of your fingers against his skin as you compress an ice pack to his knee. He knows your laugh—can pick apart sarcasm from genuine cheer unlike most other people he encounters. He’s never been good at reading people yet for some reason you’ve become an open book for him.

It’s not fair that you’ve ensnared him this way, that he can’t seem to run from you (because his favourite coffee is from your café and he can’t be bothered to find a new place). That he finds himself instinctively reaching over to his phone when he can’t sleep (he has to make sure his alarms are on, might as well text you goodnight while he’s at it). And you’ve become annoyingly comfortable (he doesn’t have an excuse for this one—your lap is just conveniently a very nice place to rest his head).

He must be an open book, too.

At some point he probably stopped trying to hide his growing feelings for you, though you either didn’t notice his sudden shift or you didn’t care.

Vulnerability has never been a part of Rin, even before Itoshi Sae ruined his life.

He despises how you so easily pry him apart, skinning him alive with your hand lathering down his chest as you laugh.

Still, he’s grown accustomed to your fingers stringing through his hair, to the way your head tilts when he explains football plays to you, to the obvious way you fluster when he attempts (poorly) at flirting with you.

He’s gotten especially fond of the way you meet him at the end of his practices with such sweet, wandering hands—pushing the hair stuck to his forehead from sweat away from his eyes; using a towel to wipe up his neck; the squeeze you give his palms as you examine them to see if there are any new cuts and bruises.

Usually, he’s the epitome of confidence in his plays. Today, however, his cheeks burn as you approach him with the same honeyed smile.

“My shots were shoddy,” he admits before you can even get a word out. You only raise a brow, hands faltering in front of you. “That was lame.”

“I think you’re good.”

“Good,” he frowns. “But not great?”

“The greatest,” you quickly correct yourself, smiling at his cravings for praise. You’re armed with a fresh towel like you always are, reaching up to clean his face as if it’s the only thing you were born to do.

He relishes in your gentle touch, peering at you through his lashes while you prattle on about how amazing he was even though he missed half of his shots.

You were so blindly supportive, it sickens him.

Not because he felt you were being disingenuous, but because he’s not deserving of your praise.

For the first time in a long time, it feels as though his soul is disconnected from his body. He used to walk the earth this way—uninterested in his surroundings and obsessed with only one thing.

Itoshi Sae. Itoshi Sae. Itoshi Sae.

Suddenly, he’s thirteen again and gasping for air; screaming into his pillow and trashing their shared awards until his mother comes rushing in to stop him. He’s alone in a field, abandoned and crushed.

It’s not like he’d never lost before, even in front of you. Loss was just a part of football as much as he hated it.

But your praise only makes his stomach turn, because he knows you mean it.

You truly do believe he’s the best, when really he’s been futile in his attempts to catch up with the big brother he admired so much as a kid.

“Stop,” he gently interrupts.

Rin tries to use his hair to hide the wetness of his eyes, with little success. You can see right through him, unfortunately. It’s a talent he wishes you didn’t have.

“Rin?” You say softly, reaching up to brush the hair out of the way. He doesn’t try and back up or swat your hand away, instead letting you see his miserable expression. You sigh quietly, looking more exasperated than surprised.

“Sorry,” he mutters halfheartedly.

You shake your head. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Shame boils in his stomach at your reassurance. There is something to apologize for. Here you are, supporting him with all your heart, and all he can think about is his stupid brother. How he’ll never catch up. How he’ll never be good enough.

Doesn’t your kindness warrant his attention at the very least?

“Come on,” you tug at his hand. “Let’s get you a pick-me-up.”

Rin abides silently, body following yours off the field and onto the streets though his mind has floated off elsewhere.

He tries to count how many steps you take in between the field and the destination, but loses count somewhere around three hundred. Then he moves on to counting the hairs on the back of your head. He loses count at one hundred. Eventually, he gives up and opts for staring at your conjoined hands while he lags behind.

When you come to a halt, he nearly bumps into your back.

The ringing in his ears stops as he blinks at his surroundings. Waves crash against the shore of the sandbank, singing the song of the ocean. It had been so long since Rin walked down this stretch of the shore, he almost forgot what the sea looked like.

“Wait here,” you urge as you hold him by the shoulders then disappear around the corner.

He collapses at the wall separating land from sea, swinging his legs under the railings to sit comfortably as he remembers doing when he was a kid. His gym bag is abandoned behind him, cleats and all.

When you return, you shove a popsicle into his hand.

He’s confused at first, just looking absently at the packaging. It must be for a concerning amount of time, because you eventually pipe up.

“Do you need me to open it for you?”

Rin glares at you and your teasing smile. Carefully, he unpackages the treat and pops it in his mouth.

Sweetness melts over his tongue and he exhales sharply through his nose. You watch him in amusement with your own treat stuck in your mouth.

Silence engulfs you, eating Rin from the inside out until he feels ill. He holds his half-eaten popsicle in front of him, watching it melt down his hand.

You stare at him for a second before nudging him lightly with your elbow.

“I was being serious. You were really good. I can’t even imagine playing like you do.”

Rin’s stomach turns. The last thing he wants is your pity.

“You don’t have to be so nice,” he mumbles, resting his chin on the railing. “42 percent.”

“42 percent?” You echo, peering over the railing to get a better look at his face.

“The percent of shots I made today.”

“Come on,” you urge gently. “Aren’t you being too hard on yourself?”

“If I’m not hard on myself, I’ll never—” he stops, choking lightly on his spit. When you don’t interrupt, he shoves the popsicle back in his mouth. “Whatever. You wouldn't get it.”

It’s quiet again, save for the crashing of waves upon rock. Rin thinks for a moment that maybe he had gone too far, or that his little meltdown had freaked you out.

But when he finally dares to look at you again, you’re smiling.

“Maybe not,” you admit with a whisper. “But I do know this…” You reach over and cup his cheek with your free hand, thumb sweeping the expanse of his cheek soothingly. “There is no one—and I mean no one—who works harder than you do.”

He swallows thickly, subconsciously nudging his face a little further into your palm.

“You deserve to be a little kinder to yourself.”

The way his heart catches in his throat is strange. He can’t describe it. The warmth in his belly is foreign, but it’s pleasant.

For the first time in the year he’s gotten to know you, the thought crosses his mind:

I think I’m in love with you.

Rin’s mouth opens with the idea, but he forces it shut just as fast.

Fear grips his lungs and squeezes, stealing his air and forcing him to pull away from your touch.

“Okay,” he breathes in resignation.

You seem stunned by his sudden retreat, smile faltering ever so slightly. But you recover quickly, hugging yourself as you slouch over the railing.

Conversation moves on just like that. He appreciated that about you, too. He never had to dwell.

It feels nice, everything about this; to have his legs dangling over the edge of the cement, feet barely ghosting over the surface of the water; to have a popsicle melting between his teeth while he listens to you talk.

For some reason, it feels as though he’s reclaiming lost time, reliving a moment he thought he would never have again.

When he checks his popsicle stick, it tells him he’s a winner for the first time since he was thirteen.

(He finally allows himself to believe it when your knee gently knocks into his.)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

2021

“Frog cotton candy?”

“Frog shaped cotton candy,” Rin corrects, peering around the giant fluff of candy to look at you quizzically.

“Yeah,” you giggle. “But why?”

He grumbles quietly, cheeks a soft shade of pink as he shoves the treat into your hands.

“I thought you’d like it. Nevermind,” he deadpans, turning around to toss it into the garbage.

Your laugh crescendos and he feels his heart squeeze with affection. When your hand stops him by the forearm, he thinks he might explode.

“It’s cute.”

You pick apart the floss ruthlessly with your fingers, and he watches almost in a trance—hypnotized by just your existence.

(When you finally pop the sugar into your mouth, he imagines it melting on his own tongue. The thought makes him unbearably warm and he forces it away.)

His fascination with you doesn't end there.

There's a certain charm to you that he can't understand—something that draws him in, tantalizing but terrifying at the same time.

He can't help the way he watches in a daze, the way you've ensnared all his attention and taken up the space in his mind.

Rin has never been good at being kind, but here he is.

Here he is, bringing you cotton candy because he thought it was stupid but cute.

Here he is, rolling up the sleeves of your yukata with a gentle scolding when you rush over to catch goldfish.

And here he is, letting you cling to his arm as if he's the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth.

He really, really hates it—how mushy you make his brain feel.

He's halfway through re-rolling your sleeves with a half-hearted scowl on his face when you stop him, hand pressed to his forearm.

“Listen, Rin.”

“Hm?” He leans down so that he can peer at your face hidden behind your almost nonexistent candy floss.

“I have to show you something.”

Rin stops dead in his tracks, raising a brow as he fully turns toward you. “What is it?”

“Can you close your eyes for me?”

His heart does a somersault in his chest. “You’re not doing anything weird, are you?”

“Who do you think I am?” You sputter.

He lets out a long sigh before complying, squeezing his eyes shut. After a long silence, he considers peeking a little bit.

That is, until he feels your breath gently fanning over his parted lips.

Nearly leaping back, he wills himself to stay grounded and slowly slides his hands up your arms until he gets to your shoulders. As he imagined, your body is impossibly close to his.

It takes every bit of concentration he has not to waver. If he really tries, he can focus on how your breath smells sweet of candy. How your hair blows softly with the summer breeze, tickling his cheeks. How you smell. How you breathe.

(Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His heart is about to beat out of his chest. Is that okay?)

You tense up in his hold and suddenly you’re retreating from him, swiftly pulling out of his arms. Just as he’s about to ask you what happened, there’s a piece of candy shoved into his mouth.

“You wanted to try it, didn’t you?” You ask rather breathlessly. He opens his eyes, looking at you curiously.

Rin has never seen this expression on you before, lips pulled tight in embarrassment and pupils blown. You look more like a wild animal caught in a cage than someone who just made a move on him.

He gingerly takes the empty paper cone from your hands and folds it up, no longer able to meet your gaze lest he explode on the spot.

“Yeah,” he says softly, shuffling over to dump it into a bin. “Thanks.”

When he turns around to look at you again, his breath gets caught in his throat.

Why are you laughing?

You giggle into your palm, hiding your gleeful smile from him as you double over slightly.

“Your face is all red!” You holler.

He grunts in embarrassment, using the back of his hand to hide his own face. “Shut the hell up,” he spits.

“It’s almost like you wanted me to kiss you!”

“Oh my god, please drop it.”

“No way! I’ve never seen you look like that before!”

(‘Speak for yourself,’ he thinks.)

“So what if I did?”

Your laughter halts as if it was swallowed into the pits of your stomach. Slowly unraveling to stand up straight, he sees another expression he’s never been able to imagine on you, but he can’t quite place it.

“Did what?” You murmur.

“Want you to kiss me.”

Your face is warm under the glow of lanterns, eyes shimmering with the overhead lights. Rin watches your mouth open and close repeatedly as you try and formulate some sort of response.

A firework explodes atop of you, and he wonders if it just saved you.

You seem jarred for only a moment more until you jolt, grabbing him roughly by the arm and giving him a pull.

“I just remembered,” you gasp. “I actually did have something to show you!”

Rin doesn’t get a word in before you’re dragging him along by the arm. With each boom of an explosion, your footsteps pick up, building into a full blown sprint out of the festival grounds and through the thicket.

You tug him along, guiding him by the hand through the winding path of trees and logs. His stamina is better than yours but you’re pushing up the hill despite your huffing and puffing—it makes him laugh with you.

When you break free of the forest, Rin’s eyes focus on a field of plush grass and buttercups.

You let go of his hand, flinging yourself forward and spinning on your heel to exaggerate how wide the opening is with your arms.

“Isn’t it great?” You shout over the fireworks. “Away from the crowd!”

He rushes up to you so that you can stop yelling, invading your personal space until you can hear him just at his normal volume.

“It’s perfect,” he tells you earnestly.

You grin up at him widely before pulling him along to the edge of the clearing. You plop down together, eyes glued to the sky as the fireworks rage on.

Rin only lasts a few seconds before his eyes drift to the side, trying to drink in your expression. It’s become a habit of his to try and imprint your very existence into his brain.

Against his better judgment, his hand creeps toward yours until your fingers are overlapped.

Thankfully, you don’t use the opportunity to tease him about it, instead shifting a little closer until you’re practically burrowed into his side. If it were anyone else, he would have shoved them away.

(When did he stop trying to push you away?)

When your pinkies slowly close together, he feels as if he can’t breathe properly.

Mark-to-mark, it’s as though he is full of all the love he’s ever felt for you from every life—past or future. Like there’s a love that exists within him that transcends lifetimes, if it were even possible.

If he were to peer into another dimension, would you still be together like this? Would you be plucking buttercups and mindlessly twirling them between your fingers? Would he be itching to envelop you in his arms just to devour you?

His thoughts cease when you take a deep breath.

“I used to come here alone,” you admit.

“No one took you?” He asks. Your gaze is piercing the night sky, never leaving the show. He can see the bloom of colours in them.

“Not since I was little, but I always loved it here.”

The question burns hot in Rin’s mind: even if it was a little lonely sometimes?

He remembers back to the night that he first saw you, with your hands dipping into the murky waters of a frog pond and an air of desolation surrounding you. Then he remembers how he couldn’t sleep that night. Not with the image of you crouching there alone burned into his memory.

“Did you know this festival is a celebration of love?” He suddenly asks.

Oh what the fuck? Oh, god. Why did he say that?

That was so lukewarm of him. So stupid. So pointless and lame.

He just wanted something to say to you, something that would make him stop thinking about how you might have been alone for all that time before you knew him.

The silence burns between you, tense and awkward until he starts stuttering out something else to fill the void. But then you look at him, slow and intrigued and so damn amused that he can feel heat rising to the tips of his ears.

“I had no idea.”

There’s a longing in your expression that tells a different story. A twitch of your pinky against his that gives away your blatant lie.

And, damnit. Here he is again, four years later under the same stars. Under the same fireworks. Only this time, he’s able to see your face even closer as it lights up a million different colours—teal like his eyes; rose like his cheeks; golden like the heart he’s tried so hard to protect.

Four years later and he still thinks you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen: pinkies interlocked, sheepish smile on your face, an undeniable shake in your voice that means you have more that you’re too nervous to say.

For a moment he considers finally letting go of all the things keeping him bolted and chained where he stands, swallowing the key to the cage surrounding his fragile, thumping heart. And for that fleeting second, he feels as though he’s the bravest man alive—that nothing could stop him even if you were to turn away and snub him out with the heel of your foot.

But how could he open his mouth and tell you anything when all he feels is the sick twisting of his stomach, the daunting glare of the older brother he adored so much, and the coldness of snow soaking his clothes as he sits in a field and cries?

There’s a burning, raging fire within him. Something primal and afraid and unchanging despite how much he wants to fall into your arms the way your shared etchings say he should.

It screams at him: run away. Run. Run. Run. This will only end in hurt.

He’s too fucked up. Too messed in the head and too quick to anger because he’s actually soft at heart, easy to betray—

“Rin.”

Your hand swiftly captures his face and he’s dragged unceremoniously out of his reverie.

Of course you would be able to pick out his turmoil by expression alone. By the droop of his lips into a frown—not the annoyed one he would flash his teammates, or the grimace he would scare children away with. The kind that’s sad and slow and timid, like an animal caught in a net.

“I’m really happy that we’re friends.”

“Friends?” He breathes, half confused and half incredulous.

Deep down he knows that it’s an attempt to comfort him without being too sappy. Maybe you can sense it somewhere in your soul that he would probably break down and sob if you were to make him feel any more vulnerable than he already is with you. It’s an effort to take away whatever guilt he feels and give him a chance to relax.

However, he can see a different tale in your eyes.

Loneliness as empty as the sky on a cloudy night. A yearning for more, for someone, for him, to fill the gap. I’m tired of waiting. That’s all he can read beneath the sea of colour exploding in your irises.

It only makes him feel worse, but he allows himself to be lied to anyway if only to feel the warmth of your skin against his just a bit longer.

“Yeah.”

Your pinky twitches again. He can feel the brush of your name against his, the grate of your matching soul marks. Your eyes tear away from his and are glued to the infinite sky above once more. To the stars you know are there but are covered by smoke and fire.

Rin only stares at you. He can’t focus on the explosions of fireworks anymore, not when you’re right in front of him looking so perfect. His summer treasure.

“Yeah?”

He knows he sounds dumb, repeating everything like an oaf who can’t fathom what’s being said. You giggle and it floors him.

“Just being able to stand here with you—” you glance at him again, only for a second. He can see the exhaustion in that moment, but he’s too selfish to pry. “—I think I’m the luckiest person alive.”

“Even if…” He swallows harshly. It feels like shrapnel cutting down his throat. “Even if I can’t be more?”

“Even so.”

There’s a pause and you open your mouth to say more, maybe to give him an ultimatum or to elaborate on your feelings, but then you’re interrupted by the end of the display.

Counteless fireworks explode above you in the finale. Rin can hear the awestruck gasps of families down the hill, the distant cries of children and the faint shutter of cameras filling the air.

He realizes then: he’s been smiling. His cheeks hurt from how big it’s gotten. And you’re smiling at him, too.

(The fireworks rage on, but in the end, all he can look at is you.)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

2022

Falling in love with Itoshi Rin was one of the most foolish, most wonderful things that could have happened to you.

He was an enigma in and of itself, a mystery of a soulmate who was able to love you wholeheartedly and push you away at the same time.

There were nights where you would stay up wondering why he was your soulmate when it seemed like all he wanted to be was alone. Other times, you fell asleep smiling to yourself knowing that somewhere deep down you both belonged to each other.

The universe chose you. The universe chose him. It was indisputable, yet you still had doubts.

Tonight is one of those “foolish” nights. It seems as though you have been stood up.

For three hours you’ve waited in the same spot at the gates of the festival, watching families and couples pass by but never the one person you’d wait until the end of the world for. The sun has long since gone to sleep over the horizon and the streets are fully lit up with lanterns for the festivities.

6 pm. That was the time Rin promised he would meet you. In the past, he was always late but at least had the decency to tell you beforehand that you could go ahead without him. Only when you arrived and sat down to wait for him had he finally messaged you.

Rin: gonna be late. see you at 7.

7 pm. That was the rescheduled time. It was when you expected to see him walking up to you in his yukata that you begged him to wear this year, matching adoringly with yours. And at 7 pm you would tell him. You would tell him everything.

For months prior you had practiced almost pathetically so, recited and perfected your speech while staring at your reflection in a mirror. You’d written him a letter, too.

7 pm. You were finally going to thank Rin for everything. For accompanying you to such a silly festival even though you know he loathes it. For meeting you under the stars and the moon and the fireworks time and time again. For bringing life back into a childhood memory that you had long since hated.

7 pm. You were going to tell him thank you. You were going to tell him you loved him, just as it had been written in the stars many years before you were born.

It’s 9 pm, nearing 10 and the start of the fireworks show. He missed the entire night without explanation.

At 9:58 pm, just as you’re about to give up all hope, you finally come face to face with teal eyes and a stupidly handsome face sheen with sweat. It shouldn’t hurt so much, the way he looks at you so dismissively as if he hadn’t blown you off all night.

“Sorry,” he mutters disingenuously, attempting to brush past you without a second thought. “Let’s go, I’m thirsty.”

He has his gym bag slung over his shoulder and a windbreaker over his uniform. No sign of the yukata you had picked out for him to wear.

You don’t follow him, staring at his back in disbelief. When he realizes you aren’t trailing behind, he turns on his heel and raises a brow in question. “Are you coming?”

“I was waiting for you all night,” you tell him coldly. I was waiting for you all this time and you never showed up.

He swallows thickly, suddenly overcome by guilt because of your downcast expression. “I know. I lost track of time.”

“Lost track of time?” You scoff incredulously. Your mouth opens as if you have more to say, but you’re interrupted by a bang.

Rin’s eyes flutter closed. He can’t listen to this. He can’t watch.

He knows this all too well. He knew it all along.

The universe was wrong. Itoshi Rin was never cut out to be someone’s soulmate.

“We’re missing it…”

Your back is turned to him but all he can imagine is the terrible expression you must be making right now, twisted in sadness and anger. The worse image is a completely blank face—unfeeling and cold. He doesn’t even want to think about it.

Booms echo in the distance yet all he can focus on is the faint hum in his ears, the horrible churning in his stomach and the fog of guilt clouding his head.

“I’m sorry,” he says so quietly that he’s sure you can’t even hear him under the deep, bellowing explosions over the horizon.

He doesn’t remember the last time he apologized for anything like this. Being cold and aloof was just in his nature. Never before had he felt like it was necessary to be remorseful for the way he is—for how he was made to be.

The slight tremble of your shoulders and the way you use the back of your sleeves to wipe tears from your eyes force the words out of him before he can stop it. He tells you again,

“I’m sorry.”

He weakly attempts to grab you by the arms, holding you from behind so he can make you look at him. You jerk away fast as lightning, knocking him away as you swivel around to glare.

“Why didn’t you come?” You demand. There’s anger shaking in your voice. Rin doesn’t know how to respond to it, not when you’ve always been so understanding and kind. Perhaps he was too cruel for you if he was going to break you this way.

“I got caught up with—”

“With football, right?” You laugh bitterly, taking a generous step back. Hurt pours from every inch of your expression and all it does is make his heart ache.

“Stop,” he suddenly snaps. You flinch at his tone and shrink back, only adding to his guilt. He always had the worst temper. “Don’t be like this. You know it was important,” he explains, gentler this time. Softer, trying to coax you back over.

There’s a beat of complete silence, save for the hollowed explosions in the distance. Rin blinks at you a couple times before his frayed nerves finally calm again. And then he realizes something terrible.

The look in your eyes, the deflation of your shoulders—this is what utter defeat looks like. For a moment deja vu rushes through his blood, bringing him back to a time when he too felt as miserable as you.

Every year he’s had the opportunity to read your expression: I’m tired of waiting. But he always foolishly assumed you would still wait around for him forever. That your patience would be as infinite as the stars in the sky. That just because he had the privilege of having his name scrawled down your pinky, he would be guaranteed to have you.

It was disgustingly selfish.

Just as he opens his mouth to apologize again, you storm up to him and shove the piece of paper roughly into his chest. With the closed gap, he can clearly see the tears streaming down your face illuminated by warm lanterns.

“Just forget it.”

“Wait—” He catches your wrist as you push past him, stopping you in your tracks again despite your struggle to get away. “Come on, I said I’m sorry!”

“Rin,” you sniffle, voice breaking with just the syllable of his name. It makes him falter. “I’m tired.”

“But—”

“You can’t even spare me one night? Just this one night in the entire year?” You breathe, no longer trying to dance around the subject. “What is it with you? What are you so afraid of?”

Being put in the spotlight never bothered Rin before. It was easy enough to ignore when all his life he was watched carefully. But it’s different with you; you’re the only one looking at him in this moment yet it feels like the weight of a million pairs of eyes at once.

An answer comes quickly to his mind, almost natural. He knows exactly what’s wrong with him.

He’s afraid of being left behind again. Of being hurt. Rin is terrified of love and being loved because he’s too pathetically fragile.

The pieces of his heart are clumsily glued together and he’s scared that even the smallest turbulence would send it shattering into a billion shards again. He doesn’t know how to put himself back together properly anymore.

Itoshi Sae permanently fucked him up.

Though they were on slightly better terms now, the scars would always haunt him. The simple solution is to shut everyone else out, to protect the weak heart he harbours.

If he told you that, would you understand? Or would you try and claw his name off your skin?

You take his silence as an answer and pry away from him again, holding yourself protectively—guarding yourself from the catastrophe that follows Rin wherever he goes.

“Goodbye, Rin.”

He doesn’t watch you go.

The nearest bench becomes his temporary home. He could do hundreds of plays in a football game and never tire, but for some reason your disdain has sucked every ounce of energy from his body.

It doesn’t register that he’s still holding the paper you forced into his hands until it crinkles in his hold. He slowly unfolds it revealing ink sloppily smeared across the page.

And then he reads it. Again. And again. And again, until it’s shaking in his hold. Until the dull ache in his heart feels like the pierce of a knife.

Rin doesn’t know what to do anymore. He’s always had one clear goal for his entire life, but now everything is all muddled. Messy, like everything else he touches.

He turns everything into a disaster.

Does he chase after you and risk having his fragile heart broken all over again? Does he risk being left behind or does he close off the gate for that option entirely? He could sit in his cowardice and never change, preserving his heart forever in this moment of time; a polaroid in the slideshow of his mortality.

There’s a familiarity to this all. Perhaps he had lived through this decision a million lives before this. Maybe he would live through it again an infinite amount of times, so long as it was your name etched into his skin.

Was he as messed up in this life as he was in every other?

If he had ruined everything in this life, if he made the wrong choice and drove you away in hatred until you drew your last breath, then maybe he could make it all up to you in the next one.

Or, if that were the case, maybe he was born into this world only to love you—to make up for the millenia where he ran away.

Rin’s legs have never moved so fast. Not in football. Not even from his brother. If you were the light at the end of the tunnel then he would keep chasing you forever, he thinks. Until his wounded heart gave out.

Of all the stupid decisions he’s made in his life, have any of them amounted to anything? He’s going to give it one last try. One more chance to prove to himself that not everything he touches burns to ashes.

“Wait!”

You visibly startle, eyes wide as you turn to see Rin dashing toward you. He doesn’t give you even a moment to ask questions, to wonder why he’s coming back to break your heart again.

You’re engulfed in a hug faster than you can blink, stumbling back from the force of his body colliding with yours until your sandals get kicked off your feet.

“Rin?” You murmur his name in disbelief, breathless even though you weren’t the one sprinting down the road.

“Just give me one more chance,” he stammers out. You can feel the rapid rise and fall of his shoulders as he holds you and fights for air simultaneously. Your hands twitch at your sides but you remain lifeless in his arms.

He tries again: “Let me prove it to you. Let me prove that it wasn’t some freak accident that led me to you. That my name on your skin is meant to be there.”

“Don’t do this,” you tell him quietly, lips brushing against his ear as you speak. “I don’t want to be loved and feared at the same time.”

“But…” Rin squeezes your body against his, almost desperately. Clinging to what he has ruined. “For once in my life, I want something more.”

I don’t want to be alone anymore.

You hesitantly shift, hands slowly trailing up his back until your body is curling against his. He can trace the outline of your body against his, like a puzzle piece that he was missing slotted perfectly in his grasp.

“I thought my soulmate would only slow me down and break me. I was wrong. I know that now.”

He slowly rocks your bodies back and forth. You pull away until your eyes meet his, red with tears. It’s the messiest he has ever seen you, but his heart refuses to be still. It aches.

Beautiful. It’s the only word he can describe you with. It didn’t matter if you were lit up under the wondrous sky, or handing him coffee in a crowded café, or sobbing in his arms.

You would only ever be his infinitely beautiful soulmate.

It’s the only constant he would have in this life and every other, even if you were to break his heart. It would be the single greatest achievement in his time, above football, above any of his petty competitions—that your name is etched down his pinky.

It scares him. It thrills him.

With the distant roar of fireworks, he kisses you. And you allow him, hiccuping against his lips as you cry.

You stay like that for a long time, listening to the hollow shockwaves of fireworks exploding miles away. He’s the first to draw back, raking in shallow breaths. You chase him, finding solace against his lips once more but not fully indulging him with another kiss.

“Do you fear me?” You whisper into his mouth.

“More than anything,” he tells you.

“Do you love me?”

After a moment of contemplation, he answers,

“More than anything.”

You nod slowly, awkwardly pulling away from him and taking a step back. It’s your first kiss and you don’t know where you’re supposed to look anymore. Rin stops your nervous shifting with his hand swooping under your chin.

“One year. I promise.” You look at him in confusion, so he continues. “Next year, when the season and my contract are over, I’ll meet you there. At the pond.”

You seem skeptical still, with your brows knitted together and a lost haze in your eyes. He raises his pinky, the one with your name forever grafted into the skin, and offers it to you.

“I pinky promise.”

It’s so ridiculous, wearing his heart on his sleeve with something he learned about on playgrounds when he was a child. A pinky promise shouldn’t mean any more than the words he has already spoken. But for some reason, your eyes light up.

He feels nothing but relief when your pinkies lock together.

“Okay,” you breathe.

“You’ll wait for me?”

“Rin.” His name leaves you in a breathless laugh that makes his world spin. It sounds so tired yet so sweet. “I’ve been waiting all my life.”

“I’m sorry,” he says once more for good measure. You nod. A wordless acceptance.

Itoshi Rin is your soulmate. It’s not like that fact will ever change no matter the time, no matter the distance.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

2023

Fate is a funny thing. Soulmates are a funny thing.

The universe threw Rin curveball after curveball, beating him down until he was nothing but a husk heavenly built for one purpose only: beat Sae. Beat Itoshi Sae.

There were times when he would lay awake at night wondering why he was given this life, why he was thrust into hardship and hurt and betrayal. How could something so perfect, something so all-knowing, be so cruel?

For as long as the name had been grafted into his skin, he resented the idea of a soulmate.

He hated the idea that only one person in the world would be his eternal weakness. That one day, one person would hold every piece of his soul in their hands. Even then, his soulmate was the other half of him—his salvation. His downfall.

They would know every inch of his skin. Every bleeding wound of his heart. Every bruise and scar along his legs from cleats and nails and gravel. Having a soulmate meant having every part of him exposed, to be judged and worshiped at the same time.

At your hands, though, he’s certain this is what he was born for—to spend the rest of his days by your side even if you were doing something as mundane as catching frogs together.

“You’re scaring them,” you hiss quietly.

Your fingers sink into the pond and Rin watches your reflections ripple as water fills your palms. Your faces contort and meld into one being. In some ways, it’s a familiar feeling—to have been intertwined with you since his very conception.

“You’re terrible at this.”

“It’s your fault!”

“Right,” he deadpans. “You haven’t caught a single one all night.”

“You were late,” you remind him with a huff, cheeks inflated. “Before you got here I was catching frogs all night. Coincidence?”

Rin makes another noise, something akin to a snort. But he doesn’t acknowledge your statement, instead reaching over to gingerly roll the sleeves of your yukata up to your elbows.

“Are you always so sloppy? Your sleeves are getting all wet.”

You glare at him from the side, delivering a deadly warning. “Are you always such a pain in the ass?”

“I get it, I get it. I said I was sorry for being late. Nii-chan really wanted to try that new ice cream place downtown.”

Your gaze drifts to him in the shimmering reflection, watching his smile soften at the mention of his big brother. It was wonderful that they were trying to patch things up.

Sae had decided to come home after all, promising Rin that they would play together again once they both took a well deserved break.

You could tell that Rin was trying his best not to make a big deal out of it, but the way he cried into your shoulder later that night said it all.

“I feel bad having you come all the way out here just to see me. Your brother is back in Japan isn’t he?”

“Yeah. And he wants to meet you.”

You nearly fall over. “What?”

“Please don’t look so starstruck about that. I feel sick.”

Laughing, you recentre yourself, sitting back on your heels with your hands on your knees. “Sorry, sorry! It’s not that…”

Rin raises a brow. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“It’s just—” you fumble, cheeks burning hot at the idea of being introduced to Rin’s family after all these years. Formally, as his partner. His soulmate. The name they had all known since he was thirteen. “What would I even say to him?”

He looks at you in bewilderment. Then, he snickers, only laughing harder when you smack his arm.

“Don’t worry about that,” he assures, reaching out to pat the top of your head. “Just be yourself. My family will love you.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, studying your reflections in the water with a soft smile. You’re staring right back at yourself, but Rin is only looking at you.

“I haven’t done anything special.”

“You lit up my world,” you laugh, turning back up to look at him properly. You make a mini explosion with your hands. “Boom! Like that. A firework.”

“You’re too corny,” he murmurs in embarrassment, turning his head away to hide his flushed face. “Can’t you explain it like a normal person?”

“No can do,” you tell him, voice gentler this time. After a pause, you shuffle your sandals around in the mud and take a deep breath. “If you want me to be totally serious…”

You lunge over and tackle him into your arms. He nearly loses his balance holding the both of you upright, stumbling back on his heels before he catches your waist. You don’t seem to share the sentiment of staying pristine, knees digging into the dirt as you squeeze him tighter.

Rin feels his heart catch in his throat the same way you’ve made it for the last six years.

“Thank you. For letting me love you. For being my soulmate.”

His hand is automatically in your hair, scratching your scalp as he smiles into your shoulder.

“I’m sure I gave you nothing but a hard time,” he grumbles.

“But I still love you.”

“Even though you had to wait?”

“Even so.”

“And that I’m a pain in the ass?”

“Even then, I do.”

Rin burrows himself into your neck, hiding his face again. It does a poor job at masking the kind of expression he’s making, though, considering how warm his skin is.

“What if I’m not good enough?”

He feels terrible—guilty that he needs to keep having this conversation with you. But you always comfort him the same way. He hopes you always will.

Drawing his head up with your muddy hands, you dirty his cheeks just to get a glimpse of him. You murmur a half-hearted sorry for making a mess.

Then you’re kissing him.

“I’ll be here to remind you how much I cherish you.”

You nip his bottom lip and he opens wider. You whisper into his mouth,

“And how happy I am that Itoshi Rin was born into this world.”

Itoshi Rin, broken. He who thought that he could never be put back together.

Itoshi Rin, vengeful. He who believed the only happiness that existed for him in this world was to surpass his brother.

Itoshi Rin, who did not believe in his soulmate while staring right at them. And Itoshi Rin, who finally allowed himself to love you wholly, completely, as it was written in the stars.

“I love you,” he says, as if just those three words could encapsulate everything he feels for you.

“Always?” You giggle. He rolls his eyes.

“Wherever you are, and wherever you may be, I will.”

You kiss him one more time for good measure.

“That was corny.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

2024

“No peeking.”

Rin folds up his piece of paper and hangs it from the bamboo tree. You’re tugging him along before he can even properly check to see if it’s been secured.

“Come on, I don’t want to miss the fireworks!”

He wouldn’t miss them for the world. You’ve always looked the most beautiful under the brightened summer sky.

The wish he scribbled down blows softly in the breeze as both of you rush by, back to the festival where it all began.

7 July 2024. I wish I had the words to tell you how much I love you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

extra notes. hi! if you made it this far, i'd like to give you the warmest most grateful thank you ever ( ´ ω `)

so, here it is. i've been working on this since last september-ish... for some people that amount of time is not much, but genuinely, i've never devoted so much attention and time to one single fic and i hope i did this one justice. rin has always been a guilty pleasure of mine to write for. i hope this man stays far far away from me until i can stomach even looking at his name again LOL ‾́ ◡ ‾́

also i finally admitted defeat and took out all my pictures and dividers because tumblr was fighting my posts that had any. so... sorry the formatting looks like this

additional tags: @jenoutof10 @hanrinz @itoshiexx lol hi guys it made it out of the drafts i hope you like it

#— whispers in the wind: 1k event ✉️#blue lock x reader #blue lock #blue lock fic #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk fic #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #itoshi rin x y/n #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin fluff #rin itoshi fluff

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yjhzies · 4 months ago

Text

“Let the world know.” — Jeon Wonwoo

⸝⸝୭ ˚. fluff . one-shot

⋆ pairings : wonwoo x gn!reader ⋆ warning : none! (let me know if there is ^^) ⋆ wc : 0.5k [✉️] · discovering a secret admirer that's not your boyfriend...

⋆ - note : (4 the req) MUAHAHA WE DEF HAVE LOTS OF THOUGHTS ON JEALOUS WONU🔥 (but lets keep it out of here...!) I think we both need to touch grass... I havent even touched actual grass even though I go outside everyday 😝 is somebody gonna match my freak??

"Baby, you have a letter and a parcel from someone..."

Wonwoo said, walking in through the front door with a letter in one hand and a parcel in the other, staring at the letter and flipflopping it.

As he placed the package on the table, you looked from the TV to your boyfriend.

"Really? Who sent it?" You inquired, rising from the couch and walking over to Wonwoo.

He shrugged as he handed you the letter. "It doesn't have a name in it."

You frown, taking the letter from him. As Wonwoo begins to open the securely wrapped package, you unfold the letter and begin to read.

"Dear Y/N, this is a letter to express my admiration and gratitude to you. You may not know me, but I am one of the hundreds who admire you from afar. I've always found you beautiful, and I wanted to let you know that I've liked you for a long time n-" You pause, realizing where this was going.

You peek over Wonwoo's shoulder to see him staring at the package, looking shocked. Your gaze lands in the direction where he was staring, and there were roses. Red roses.

You fold the letter and set it aside as you stand beside him.

"Come on, Wonu, it's not like I don't already have thousands of letters already. But, I wouldn't mind another one!" You chuckle, assuming it is Wonwoo sneaking you letters for the nth time, acting like a secret admirer.

"Gross."

Wonwoo said, glaring at the roses through his glasses on the table. You raise your head to look at him and tilt your head.

"Huh?"

"Look at those," he said, reaching out to take one of the roses. "This isn't even the colour you like."

"I can literally buy a million times better one!" He scoffed. "And most importantly, doesn't he know the person he just confessed to has a boyfriend? How weird."

You freeze.

You stand there, stunned as Wonwoo points out every tiny imperfection, your eyes widening as you try to register everything in your brain.

"It's not yours?"

You ask, but judging by the expression on his face, you already know the answer is no.

"I can write a better letter, don't you think?" He raised his eyebrows.

You nod your head, trying to suppress a smile. With a proud nod, he reaches out to rewrap the package before picking it up and tossing it in the garbage can.

"I'll tell the delivery man to return it to whoever sent it," he said, turning to you with a slight pout. He draws you in for a hug, encircling your waist with his arms held tightly but not painfully.

"I can buy you millions of better flowers, you don't need others when I'm here." He said, and you finally let out a chuckle as you noticed the sulkiness in his voice.

"I know, Wonu," you say, patting his back. "I would have rejected it anyways, but I surely am endeared by a jealous Wonwoo."

Glancing down, he covers his face with your neck as he blushes. "I wish I could keep you all to myself, but you're so beautiful, everyone wants you and it's hard to do so."

"First of all, I should be saying that. And second, they're not the one I want, It's you."

"I know, but," he says, pulling back to kiss your lips. "I'll want to let the world know that you're mine and I'm yours."

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bloomzone · 6 months ago

Text

GLOW UP DIARY:#2 LOVE YOURSELF FIRST

" It's everyone's first time living this life, how can you be good right from the start? Even I'm still having a hard time."

- Hoshi (seventeen)

heyy sparkles...so today it's the second part of the glow up diary..btw thank you so so much for the support in the first part "mindset is everything" I'm looking forward to update more part !!

©: bloomzone

#2 SELF LOVE

✉️:first of all sweetie self-love is the practice of appreciating and caring for yourself through actions that support your physical, emotional, and mental well-being. It involves self-acceptance, positive self-talk

Self-love is the first step to a happier life.

﹙ ✿ ﹚ being beautiful mean being yourself you don't need to be accepted by others you need to accept yourself your features are so so so beautiful you don't even know how u look in eyes of a stranger. Ur nose is in the right shape ur skin is so pretty no matter the color is ur eyes are so pretty ur height is perfect ur hair color is breathtaking u don't need to fit any beauty standards to be THAT GIRL and stuff,those imperfections like acnes scars body hair they don't change u they don't define your beauty you are beautiful inside and out ..

HOW TO BUILD SELF ACCEPTANCE

𝜗𝜚- accept yourself just as you are your flaws the good and bad replace self jugement with self acceptance take a paper or just if u have a diary or journal and write I LOVE MYSELF I ACCEPT MYSELF THE WAY I AM . 💌

𝜗𝜚- write down in ur diary/ journal/note app in the end of the day "how you feel",it helps u release emotions, reducing stress and anxiety. It encourages self-reflection, leading to better understanding of your thoughts and feelings. 💞

𝜗𝜚- daily affirmations is important always compliment yourself like "I love myself the way I am" "my body is perfect" "I accept myself"...🎀

𝜗𝜚- Notice negative self-talk and challenge it by questioning its validity and replacing it with more realistic and positive thoughts never talk sh about urself bbg ;)

𝜗𝜚- watch this video (click here) it will help u so so so much <3

𝜗𝜚- meditate,spend more time outside, listen to your favorite playlist, don't forget to not listen to what other say about you just focus on u and how ur body work .. You are more than a beautiful face, you are intelligent, compassionate, and an all-around wonderful person. Don't let anyone take away your shine.⭐

𝜗𝜚- Always remember that you are worthy and don't change who you are for anyone stay true to yourself and never doubt how beautiful you truly are. Keep smiling and remember that you are so loved and special. You light up every room and liam proud of you and don't let anyyyyyyyooooone let u down "look she is more pretty than" who care say I'm also pretty and everyone is different .💗

ıllı ⠀ : ⠀take care of yourself u are not alone n you are special xoxo .♡ ⠀ !!

©bloomzone !

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fallinforerling · 2 years ago

Note

mimi i can’t stop thinking about when y/n comes and visit sthe bellinghams and y/n and jobe hug for too long n jude is just so very… pouty the whole night lmfaooooo then when he drops you off at home he’s so clingy and whiny :c

- bora <3

ps. this used to be erensfavgirly just so you know 😭 you can tag me as roses-arerosies for all ur new fics <3

but you love me more, right? - jb

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s taglist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Jude was ecstatic once he found out you were able to come with him to England. Visiting his family already had him in a fantastic mood, but now that he knew you were accompanying him, he was over the moon. He knew how well you got along with his family, so once he let everyone know on the group chat, he confirmed all the affection his family had for you with every new text popped up on the screen.

✉️ Mum ❤: Yay! That’s such great news!

✉️ Mum ❤: Tell her I’m making her favorite

✉️ Hey! What about my favorite?

✉️ Jobe: Oh, please. She’s the apple of mum’s eyes, don’t act like you didn’t knew

✉️ Dad: Tell her that I bought new tea flavors for us to try

✉️ I’m starting to think I’m not the main attraction of this visit, am I?

✉️ Jobe: No way! Seriously?

✉️ Jobe: She’s also my favorite

✉️ Dad: Jobe, donʼt be hurtful towards your brother

✉️ Mum ❤: Canʼt wait to see you both 💕

✉️ Jobe: Tell her I miss her

He couldn’t help but smile at his brother’s text. It was obvious he had a crush on you; Jude found it funny since it was a little bit cliché, the little brother having a crush on the older brother’s stunning girlfriend. Oldest joke in the books. It wasn’t a big deal anyways.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

He didn’t consider himself a jealous person. At least, not the type of person that would go as far as considering his own brother a menace to his relationship. It was stupid to even consider it anything more than something to joke about. There wasn't a real chance of something actually happening, not only because he was his brother but also because he was younger than both of you. You considered him a little brother, for the love of God.

Nonetheless, it was hard to ignore how long the hug between you two lasted. His brother seemed to be in heaven while holding you tightly, his head basically on your neck, refusing to let you go after a couple of minutes. It was almost funny to see if it weren’t for the unnerving feeling he was getting from it. He didn’t want to sound crazy, but... Was he smelling your hair?

“It’s so great to finally see you!” You said once Jobe let you go. He looked down at you with the biggest of smiles. “And you got so tall! How did this happen?” You pinched his cheeks, treating him as you always did, with care.

However, Jude’s brain started to overthink, and he was feeling nauseous. Why was he jealous of his own brother? He was being ridiculous, and he knew that. But some things were hard to avoid, and his jealousy was one of them. He tried to fight it as you all moved to the living room, where his mom had prepared a big tray of snacks.

“So, did you had a good flight?” His dad asked once you were all sitting on different points of the large sofa. You nodded with a smile, receiving a tiny bowl full of your favorite snacks from Jobe, who only had eyes for you.

“Thank you, honey!” You said to Jobe, who nodded with a slight blush on his cheeks before getting a bowl of his own. “It wasn’t as terrible as I thought. I actually really liked the food they gave us; it was a tasty chicken sandwich. Right, babe?” Your voice woke him up from his daydreaming, making him sigh with guilt for the direction that his thoughts were taking. “Are you tired?” You asked once he didn’t answer right away, rubbing his leg.

“No, no. I was just distracted for a little bit. But yes, it was a surprisingly good sandwich. She had to talk me into eating it at first, though.”

You smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but hold you closer to his frame, suddenly hungry for your touch. He didn’t let his mind slip to any other ridiculous thought about jealousy and his brother’s stupid crush on you. He gave his full attention to one of his dad’s stories, making sure to always have you close to him while listening. He knew you were giving him weird looks because this wasn’t his usual behavior around his family, but he didn’t care, he needed to have you next to him for a moment.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Okay, forget about leaving his jealousy thoughts behind.

Jobe was stepping over an imaginary line that he didn’t know he had marked down since you all entered the kitchen. He was all over your space, but the worst thing was that you didn’t seem to mind. He hugged you by the shoulders, talking about God knows what while giving you the smile he knew very well since he was the one who taught him the smile trick. Was he openly flirting with you, or was he seeing things? Why would he do that in front of him? Why would he do that in general?

When he decided that enough was enough, and that he was going to do something about the situation, Jobe left your side. He saw how you nodded with a tiny smile at whatever he said, still sipping the cup of blueberry tea his dad gave you not too long ago. He saw it as the perfect opportunity to take you away from his brother’s hands.

“Hello, pretty.” He said once he was near enough to whisper in your ear. You giggled, as every time he startled you, but you immediately turned around to hug him. “I missed you.” Jude returned the hug, closing his eyes once he felt your warmth around him.

He didn’t know why, but he was feeling the need to be as close as possible to you. Why was he feeling so clingy all of the sudden?

“Are you okay, babe? You were acting a bit weird earlier.” You said against his neck while rubbing his back distractedly.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He wanted to stop there and just enjoy the hug, but his brain had other plans. “Seems like Jobe missed you a lot.”

“Right?” You were apparently naive about what he meant by it, since you just smiled. “He’s such a sweetheart, I love him a lot.”

Okay? Ouch, no need to rub it on his face.

“But you love me more, right?” He bit his lip, surprised by his own stupidity. Why would he ask something like that? What was wrong with him?

“Are you guys ready for dinner?” His mom interrupted whatever dumb thing he was about to say after what just came out of his mouth.

“Just a minute, Denise.” You didn’t let him go, hugging his waist a little bit tighter while smiling apologetically at her. He saw the expression on your face, and he knew you noticed what was wrong.

“That’s alright, I’ll hold your plates for a minute, come when you’re ready.” His mother said, finally leaving you alone. It appears like you weren’t the only one who noticed something strange going on.

“Baby, are you jealous of Jobe?” You asked it in a serious manner, but your eyes were filled with such amusement that he felt like a little kid that just said something very stupid but very funny as well.

“No…” You knew him very well, so there was no point in lying, but he did it anyway because admitting something so ridiculous was very embarrassing.

“You’re so adorable.” You laughed after a moment, taking his face in your hands. “Don’t be silly; why would you be jealous of him? He’s like a little brother to me.”

“I dunno.” He simply answered, knowing he was being irrational. “He has a crush on you…”

“He’s your brother, Jude.” You giggled again, kissing his lips shortly. “That’s why you’ve been hugging me all night long?”

“Mmmh.” He felt mortified, so he went for the safest option and hugged you again, trying to avoid your face. You were having too much fun with this new information. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Of course I won’t.” You whispered back, silently laughing at his antics. He could actually feel how hard you were trying to hold your laugh. “I really love you a lot, silly jealousy included and everything.”

“But more than you love Jobe, right?” He asked with hope, still refusing to retrieve his head from your neck.

“Yes, Jude. More than Jobe.” You laughed loudly, not being able to keep it down anymore.

“What’s up with me?” Jobe said, entering the kitchen, clueless about the subject of your chat.

“Nothing!” He quickly said, not letting you give away anything that happened seconds ago. If it was bad that you already knew about the jealousy thing, it would be hell if his brother found out. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Okay? Well, let’s go eat it then? Stop asphyxiating her with your love, she’s got enough of that already.” He knew Jobe was just messing with him, but he had to bite his tongue and resist the urge to say something along the lines of “Well, she’s my girlfriend, not yours!” but that would be too childish, even for him.

So he just stayed silent and followed his brother into the living room, still giving him annoyed looks that were received with pure confusion. You just rolled your eyes and whispered to him to keep it down.

Needless to say, even though he acted normally, refusing to let his childish side win, he still felt like he needed to create some space between you and Jobe. He insisted on sitting between both of you, keeping a hand on your tight at all moments, which resulted on you casually laughing or giving him loving looks that just made sense to him, the rest of the family weirdly looking at each other. He made up an excuse after an hour or so, saying you two were so tired from the flight and you needed to head to the hotel, but in reality, he just wanted to cuddle with you and have you all to himself for the rest of the night. You just let him be, still messing around while giving him head scratches to help him fall asleep.

He guessed that jealousy just turned him into a clingy mess, but you seemed very okay with it, so what was the matter?

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * JUDE'S TAGLIST

#jude bellingham #jude x you #jude x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude #jb22 #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fluff #mimi answers #footballer fic #football fic #footballer fanfiction #football fanfic #footballer blurb #footballer fluff

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everyonewooeverywhere · 5 months ago

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hongjoong thots pls 🫴

hmmmm so many 😔😔

i’ve been an absolute fiend for studio sex with barefaced hongjoong hmmmmn 😖

like fuckkkkk me what is wrong with him???

i wanna fuck the stress out of him so bad. massage his shoulders because he’s really tense and kiss his neck because it makes him feel better.

let him keep working while you suck him off. but he’s so easily distracted (you’re just too good 😌). he’ll tangle a hand in your hair and have his other hand over his mouth trying go keep himself quiet.

he’d probably want you to cockwarm him too if we’re being honest. he says it’s because it’s less distracting and he can still work while being intimate. but you’re an attention whore (or at least i am 😚) so you keep him VERY distracted from work. scratching his scalp with your nails as you play with his hair. softly kissing his jaw and neck and ears. whimpering softly every time your near his ear. you slowly unbutton his shirt a bit too. massaging his chest and kissing his collarbone too.

he doesn’t last very long and throws you onto the couch and rails you from behind 🙂👍

#⋆.ೃ࿔*✉️:･ hard thoughts #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong x reader #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez hard thoughts #hongjoong hard thoughts

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vyutg · 9 months ago

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bully!gyuvin fingering you and depriving you of his dick because you (unintentionally) made him jealous

your bully is definitely the jealous type. he sees you get close with another guy and he’s already fuming in jealousy!

acts like he doesn’t care? yes. doesn’t like seeing you with someone else? also yes. believes you whenever you remind him that guys only talk to you at school when it’s school related? absolutely not.

gyuvin has your legs spread apart, his fingers expertly stroking all the right spots. “if you want attention that badly, just fucking ask me,” he growls.

another wave of pleasure washes over you and you moan loudly, unable to contain it with how his fingers feel inside you. he is fingering you so fast, so fast that all you can do is moan and writhe under his touch. his other hand moves to your breasts, grazing them and making your nipples harden.

just as you are about to reach your peak, gyuvin stops, making you whine and cry as he pulls his fingers away. “no!!”

“not yet. you don’t deserve it.”

“gyubi……” you look at him and try to reach for his hand, trying to get him to push his fingers inside you once again.

gyuvin looks at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “you want more? want my dick?” you nod your head repeatedly. “you’ll have to earn it,” he whispers, voice dripping with dominance.

you heart races, more tears escape your eyes as you realize what he meant.

#✉️ from inbox #bully!gyuvin #gyuvin smut #gyuvin imagines #gyuvin x reader #gyuvin hard hours #zb1 smut #zb1 imagines #zb1 x reader #zb1 hard hours #kpop hard hours #kpop hard thoughts

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ihophashbrowns · 2 years ago

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girl i always see you posting and crying over this white guy and i need you to know that he is NOT worth your heart or energy!!!! idk what he looks like obviously but i know a yt boy aint NEVER that cute to ignore or to hope his racist preferences change. someone better will come along. fuck that nigga!!! do not let him ruin your fun ever again! exist and live for yourself and those who love you not to catch the attention of an ignorant white boy

thank you anon 💞💖💕🫶🏾 i'll try to keep this in mind....

#its soooo hard bcuz he was so nice to me when we had a class tgt :( like genuinely so friendly and sweet #there was even a point where i tried to erase my identity and get into his interests to literally no avail..... bcuz #what he doesnt find attractive abt me i can never change #& i hate to be that person but hes cute. kind of like ugly cute-ish but still cute 😭😭😭#a yt guy not d0wn wiTH thE sWiRL in 2023....... its the coloradan in him #sffssdffggdsdhhfsffghhg #but in all seriousness its gonna be so hard to get over him. like i thought i was over him in october. then december. then march. then then #i WANT to be over him TRUST! but its so hard and idk why.......#i'll keep trying tho #bcuz i'll be there eventually #✉️#anon

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porcalinecunt · 2 months ago

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Hear me out: Jason todd with a pathetic fem criminal/thief he loves to play with involving gunplay

- heart anon ❤

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘!

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 you couldn’t be a decent criminal for shit, so much so, the red hood himself has rather ulterior motives . . .

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ JASON TODD X FEM! READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — rough sex, semi public, slight gunplay, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, breeding, jason being a bully :<

[・:。author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ i kinda hate this lol, sorry if my writing falls off towards the end. i haven’t touched this draft in MONTHS [sobs]

“i-i won’t hesitate!”

“yeah..threatening the guy with the ak-47..”

he scoffs, barely clutching onto the military grade weapon as if he knows you’d miss every last one of your shots from the tiny pistol you held. your shakey hands were already such a dead giveaway.

petite, timid and easy to snap in two. that’s enough to have the red hood himself laughing at your pathetic attempts to intimidate him. he almost wondered how Black Mask’s goons allowed you through just to grab a nice stash of hard drugs, most likely to sell for a ridiculous price.

“look little girl, put the pistol down and i’ll make it easier for ya. don’t gotta act all tough on me..” the barrel of the rifle faced the floor, clearly he doesn’t wish to waste a bullet on your airheaded self.

there’s my chance! you thought to yourself, rushing past the vigilante and booking it to the stairwell. a grin stretched your lips, how easy was that? and he’s meant to be the best!

as if red hood heard your thoughts, the larger figure dropped down from the ceiling right in front of you with an ear shattering thud! stopping dead in your tracks, you threw a hasty punch that was easily blocked before red hood yanked you by the wrist and threw you onto the wall next to you. not even a second went by before you felt his build press against your smaller figure. trapped.

“h-hey! let me go you prick!” you whined and pouted, trying to push your way out with no success. he didn’t even feel like another man, more like a wall.

amidst the struggle, you heard a small chuckle before the red hood succumbed to laughter. he was fucking laughing, at you. angry, you weakly elbowed him in the rib which did next to nothing. it only earned you another wheeze and chuckles from the hooded bastard.

“awe, what’s the matter? can’t fight back? is this your first crime girl?”

you looked back with an angry pout, his white eyes that were basically holes in that bulky helmet of his narrowed in amusement. an expression that admittedly, gave you a case of butterflies. the way he taunted you, laughed at you, even looked at you. fuck, you wondered if he was seeing anyone outside of fighting crime.

your facial expression must’ve shifted, as the masked vigilante tilted his head. “got something to say to me, little girl?”

his eyes widened a little after saying that, probably because of the way you began to press against his own body. whether you knew it or not, you’re practically arching, pressing your ass against his crotch. it really didn’t help that you were wearing a tight one piece that showed off every curve and shape of your figure.

it didn’t take long before red hood picked up on your intentional eye fucking, backing up to allow enough space for him to grab your hips and roam around your body. the red hood was a greedy one, grabbing and squeezing every bit of flesh he felt on you until he finally found your breasts. his hand alone covered the whole thing, that’s how huge he was. a sudden and rather harsh squeeze made you jump.

"don't be rough!" you whined as the crime lord gently massaged the sore flesh, only to give it another squeeze and forcing a yelp out of your throat. "you're mean..!"

"awe, am i? thought you were a big girl with that prissy attitude and the gaul to act all tough with me.." jason cooed in a mocking tone. even through the material of your bodysuit, you could feel him growing harder and harder against your ass. your stomach was in knots from the sheer length of this man, yet you never fessed up as his fingers found the zipper hidden in the fabric. . . .

you couldn't make a noise, not with jason's huge palm over your slobbering mouth while his cock pistons in and out of your ruined cunt. two orgasms ripped out of you yet he refuses to stop for even a breath, or to take off that stupid helmet.

"c'mon..i know you got another in ya." he grunted, smacking your left thigh which was covered in hand prints from the earlier rounds. you weren't wrong when you called him mean earlier, the way he discarded your bodysuit to him throwing you against different surfaces like a ragdoll. now, he has you over the stair railing while he brutally fucks you from behind.

your knees buckled from the pressure as you clung onto the dirty railing for dear life, the skin on your ass a bright red from his hips slamming against it. you turned your head slightly to meet those white eyes that bore themselves into your brain, how you wish he just took it off to see who's actually fucking you mid failed heist. stupidly, you reached out behind to try and pry even a little, only for a gun cocking to startle you frozen.

"fuck you think you're doing? thought you were slick huh.."

a breathy chuckle followed, as you heard the subtle clicks of the gun inching closer and closer to your ear until the barrel was pressed right below your jaw. you didn’t know if it was fear or arousal, but nonetheless, the next thing you knew was your stuffed cunt clenching around jason’s girth like a vice.

“ohh..you like this, do you?” he started, caressing the gun against your bruised skin. the cold outer was a sharp yet welcoming contrast to the hot air that suffocated you beneath his weight. you mewled in response, practically strangling his cock the harder you clenched.

the vigilante picked up his pace, groaning in your ear as he pointed the firearm below your jaw as if you were a hostage. a strangled moan echoed throughout the stairs and your knees buckled, prompting jason to wrap an arm around your waist.

“m’gonna..m’gonna cum..please..” you sighed, screwing your eyes shut as the knot in your stomach grew tighter and tighter.

“cum f’me girl…don’t fuck this up too..” jason chuckled from the mean jab as his dick twitched against your cervix. before you could respond to his passive aggressive remark, you’re vision went white as a sudden wave of heat filled your ruined pussy. your vision blurred as jason fucked his cum deep into your cunt, not allowing a drop to slip out.

“atta girl..maybe you aren’t as stupid as i thought..”

jason tapped the gun against your thigh as he continues to move his hips against yours, not caring about the fact you could barley hold on at this point.

another round wouldn’t hurt, especially with the antics you’ve pulled today.

#𓆩♱𓆪 — porcelaincunt !#jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood smut #jason todd #red hood #dc comics x reader #dc comics x you #dc x reader #dc x you #dc comics #dc comics smut #dc smut

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lvlybin · 2 months ago

Text

𖦹 ̼ ᮫ DUMB N POETICᘞ̸⠀ ׁ ₊ KIM JI WOONG

summary ༝༚༝༚ … when you received your assignment for the professor you would study under for your student teaching, you were ecstatic. and when you met Dr. Kim, things got even better. he was intelligent, helpful, kind, and not to mention extremely handsome. he also seemed to not care about the fact that you were supposed to have no romantic relationship with him. and Jiwoong also seemed to think that you were too dumb to notice all of the things he was doing behind your back. but God forbid if you ever tried to leave him in the same fashion he never hesitated to do with you 18+ MDNI

wc 12082 ! ૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა ۫ ੭̲ 𝓴jw & 𝓯!reader ⊹ teacher x student teacher, university!au ( short n sweet mini series ) ( library )

爱 ࿁ ⠀ ˚⠀ warnings … VERY oc Jiwoong (he would never act like this), toxic!Jiwoong, cheating, manipulation, age gap of 5 years, self-doubt, my attempts at writing angst, there’s some lowkey messed up things in this so be warned ︩︪ ׅ

✉️ thank you for all of your guys’ support and patience! didn’t expect to get this carried away with this fic, but o well. this IS NOT PROOFREAD lol, I wanted to get it out so I’ll come back around to editing it soon!

18+ warnings ... unprotected p in v sex, dry humping, nipple play, cum play?, Jiwoong really likes kissing, lowkey a possession kink

The amount of effort you put into everything was one of the qualities you admired most about yourself. Being hardworking was so satisfying to you, following the rules, and doing what was right. Those things set you on a solid path to follow your dream. Sure, you had never thought you would’ve wanted to become a teacher, but as you got older, you found yourself thriving whenever you spent time with kids. Surprisingly, instead of finding it draining, you were rejuvenated by helping them, and the thought of having a positive impact on such young minds was what ultimately drove you to pursue teaching. Everything that everyone has ever told you about the profession: “The pay doesn’t match the workload,” “You’ll get tired of it before the end of the first year,” “Are you sure you have the patience to work with kids?” never deterred you from it.

You wanted to teach kids about the qualities that were so important to you.

The years of schooling passed by quickly for you, concentrating on becoming the best you could and spending time with your friends to make sure you didn’t miss out on the university experience. And it was fun, the time of graduation seemingly so far away. Until it wasn’t, and the program was beginning to sort out the final hurdle that your class had to get through–student teaching. Teacher assisting, whatever you wanted to call it, the assignments were slowly passed out, and while your peers received locations at surrounding primary and secondary schools, you were one of the few who would work at a university.

“We think that a higher level of education would suit you better. You’re one of the best students we have in this program.” Was what your professors had told you when you’d requested to switch to a primary school. You were flattered, of course, your hard work was being recognized, but you didn’t understand why you would be working with an older group of students that might as well be as old as you when you were studying to work with younger kids.

And your plans to switch anyway were rudely interrupted when the email from the professor you would be working under came through. It was the basics: excited to be working with you, this is what we’re doing this semester, here’s what I need you to prepare for… etcetera. Signed Dr Kim. Maybe it was a bit immature of you to complain to your friends about this opportunity, but you proceeded to despite it.

Giselle’s eyes widened when you mentioned who you were studying under.

“Are you being serious?”

You had furrowed your eyebrows and nodded, confused at her surprised tone.

“YN-ie, Dr Kim is like, a big deal– didn’t even know he took student teachers…”

You huffed out a breath, annoyed as you scribbled over your notes a bit. “Yeah, well, then you can have him. All I wanted was to work with some primary students but nooo–”

“Older kids won’t be half the trouble little kids will be,” Giselle mumbled, and you figured she was probably thinking about her own assignment.

“Little kids wouldn’t judge me half as much as these older kids will,” you countered and that was that.

The thought still circled around your mind as you arrived at the university for your first day, nerves practically eating you alive as you navigated your way to Dr Kim’s classroom. Your parents had always taught you to be earlier than necessary, and thank goodness for that, considering it took you a good twenty minutes to find the room. You knew this place was big, but you thought that the online map would’ve been at least a bit more helpful. After asking one janitor and two other professors where Dr Kim’s room was, you finally approached the door.

Softly, you tapped your knuckles against the wood a few times. On the other side, a warm voice called out, “It’s open!” Another rush of adrenaline ran through you as you sucked in a deep breath, gripping the papers of the requirements for your program in one of your hands as you pushed open the door.

That breath was instantly stolen from you as you peeked inside, the man sitting at the desk in the corner of the room was more attractive than any other person you’d met before. Like an idiot, you stood in the doorway for a moment, eyes trailing over his sharp facial features, the curve of his pale pink lips, the way his glasses were sat on his nose, and how his dark hair was pushed back in a way that was clearly careless to him but looked anything but. You tried to ignore how his white button-up shirt clung to his arms and chest as he turned in his chair to look over at you. Suddenly, you felt very self-conscious about the black blouse and brown dress pants you were wearing.

“Ms Kang?” You blinked harshly as his uttering of your last name snapped you out of your thoughts.

A smile forces its way onto your lips as you take a step into the hall, closing the door gently behind you. “Yes, hi, nice to meet you,” you say, tilting your head in a small bow. You think your brain short circuits as he smiles back at you, but you can’t really tell.

Dr Kim leans back in his chair, “Nice to meet you too. Are you excited for your first day?”

No, you think to yourself as you remain across the room from him.

Instead, you keep the smile up as you nod slightly. “I’m excited. Mostly nervous though.”

He chuckles as he gestures for you to come over to his desk. The sound of the heels of your shoes clicking on the floor resounds throughout the space as you approach him. Unfortunately, he’s even more perfect up close. “Don’t be. You’ll be great, not that I’m having you do much today anyway.” You do your best to follow his words, eyes flicking everywhere but his own.

You miss the way Dr Kim tilts his head a little. “Hey,” he says, his voice the epitome of comfort to you already, and your eyes finally move to meet his. It’s difficult for you to decipher what he’s thinking, to tell if the caring gleam in his dark irises is real or not. “I’ll be here to help you. You’ll be great,” he repeats and you nod a little.

“Not to sound ungrateful, but I was supposed to be working with younger kids,” you laugh softly and the smile on Dr Kim’s lips doesn’t fade in the slightest.

“You want to work with primary students then?” You nod and he lets out a little sound of acknowledgment. “Well, Ms Kang, from what I’ve heard about you is that you’re exceptionally bright for your age.”

“I’m not–”

He cuts you off, “Ah, none of that.” Dr Kim extends a hand towards you, gesturing towards the bag on your shoulder. “You can just put that in my office and then come back out here. I’m excited to begin working with you.”

You don’t think the flush on your face goes anywhere for the rest of the day. Dr Kim told the truth, for the first day you barely did anything except pass out materials and help him organize things, but it was plenty for you. Thankfully, none of the students seemed to be too interested in you, all focused on the material of the class. And you found yourself falling into the same trap.

It was easy to understand why Dr Kim had the reputation he did, the way he spoke captured everyone effortlessly. You could tell he was intelligent and he was so well-spoken that he made even the most boring material seem interesting. The end of the teaching day was there before you could process it.

Small talk was made between you and Dr Kim as you stood at the podium at the side of the room, collecting and sorting through lecture notes from the day as he sat at his desk, grading something that according to him was from the previous week. As you finish, you glance over at him, collecting the papers in your hands before walking back over to his desk.

“All done,” you say quietly, setting the stack down on the corner of the furniture. Dr Kim looks briefly over at you as he nods his head once.

“Thank you for helping me with that.”

You laugh a little, “It’s my job.”

He smiles, “I know it’s your job, but I wanted you to know that I appreciate you helping me with these things.” Dr Kim pauses for a moment before continuing. “Good job today, I’ll have you get more involved as the week goes on. Hopefully, by next week you’ll be ready to teach some of the lessons.”

“Sounds good,” you agree. A beat of silence.

“And… I want you to know that I’m here to help you if you need anything,” Dr Kim says and when he looks up at you, you have to push away the way your heart speeds up. “I want to know if you’re struggling, if you don’t understand something, if you have any worries.” The soft look in his eyes appears again, and you can tell this time–it’s true. “This can be a hard career to be in, for many reasons, and I want to be someone for you to lean on.”

You nod again, feeling your face warm up just a bit, and you hope he thinks it’s just the blush that you’d put on that morning. “Of course.”

There’s a satisfied look on his face as he turns back to his monitor. “You can head home for the night, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Slightly dazed, you quickly retrieve your bag from his office before going to leave.

“See you tomorrow, Dr Kim! Have a good night,” you call to him as you open the door to his classroom.

“You too,” you hear him say. “And YN?” The use of your first name stuns you a bit, for more reasons than one, and you glance over your shoulder to look at him.

“Yes?”

“Call me Jiwoong.” Suddenly, the students judging you was no longer your main concern.

The rest of the week passes by in a blur, and you find yourself meeting those expectations that Jiwoong was hoping for. Students began letting you help them with things they didn’t understand, Jiwoong was letting you sit next to him and watch as he graded papers (no matter how boring it seemed), and you found yourself becoming comfortable. Any doubts you’d had about working with university students melted away because, not to jinx yourself, but it was surprisingly easy. Especially with Jiwoong helping you every step of the way.

You weren’t faring any better with his presence, every little compliment he gave you only made your cheeks warm as you would try to stifle a smile and avoid eye contact. Not that you would see the way he didn’t bother trying to hide how the corners of his lips rose. Because if you did, the small crush you had would only grow. You hated admitting it, but yes, it was a crush. A small, tiny, school-girl crush that you were positive at least half of Jiwoong’s female students had on him as well. It almost couldn’t be helped–he was so kind, he handled you with such ease, and he was so knowledgeable.

There was one night when you’d stayed with him in his classroom as it grew dark outside, expressing your worries for your future. Maybe it was wrong to open up in the way you had to someone who was supposed to be your mentor, your superior, but you had anyway. There was just something about him that made you feel so comfortable, so safe. You trusted him easily, and you barely began to notice the way things were progressing.

About two weeks after you’d begun student teaching, Jiwoong had messaged you late on a Saturday night.

The text itself wasn’t anything that should’ve been suspicious or out of the ordinary, just an update on a task he wanted you to complete over the weekend, it was the time he’d sent it at. Almost one in the morning. Against your better judgment, you’d asked him why he was up so late.

Dr Kim, Student Teaching Program

Sometimes I lose track of time when I’m grading things.

Sorry if I woke you up.

His response comes quickly, and you roll over in your bed as you think of how to respond.

No, it’s okay. I was up anyway

Dr Kim, Student Teaching Program

You should be sleeping.

The smile that fights its way onto your lips almost makes you forget that this man is five years your senior, and technically your teacher.

Too many assignments that I don’t understand that need to be done by Monday.

Dr Kim, Student Teaching Program

Call me.

So you did, and for half an hour he did help you with the work you had been struggling through, but eventually, the topics began to change. What did you do that night? What did you have for dinner? What are you doing tomorrow?

Jiwoong spoke to you like you were an old friend of his, and you hated the way it made you feel. It made you feel important to him, like he was telling you things he wasn’t sharing with anyone else and confiding in you. Even if it was just the type of wine he’d been drinking that night. The hours ticked on, and eventually, his voice grew just a bit husky, cluing you into how he was probably getting tired.

“I’m gonna take your advice and go to bed,” you say softly into the device, your phone lying next to your head on your pillow.

The noise he makes almost sounds like a protest. “What? It’s only… almost four in the morning, jeez–” You laugh softly, feeling your eyes droop. A moment of silence passes between the two of you. “Stay on the phone with me. Please.”

Somewhere in your dazed mind, you know if you were more awake then you would probably be kicking your feet while your heart would beat wildly. “I don’t know…” you mumble, eyes closed now.

“No, please, YN. Just… I like talking with you.”

You sniffle softly, not completely processing his words as you think about how your allergies must be acting up again. “Okay,” you breathe, giving up easily. Jiwoong lets out a breath of relief from the other side of the phone. “‘M gonna go to sleep, though.”

There’s a hint of a smile in his voice as he speaks up again, “You can go to sleep, sweet girl, I’ll stay on the phone with you.” The nickname makes your breath hitch. It feels like those two little words have erased almost every boundary between the two of you, and you nod even though he can’t see you.

“Good night, Jiwoong.”

“Sweet dreams, sweet girl–” You drift off before you hear the rest of his sentence.

The next morning, when you wake up, your phone is dead and you curse at yourself a little for forgetting to plug it in before you fell asleep. As you get up to brush your teeth and wash your face, you plug it in, and when you return, you notice the single message from Jiwoong from about an hour ago.

Dr Kim, Student Teaching Program

I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night. It won’t happen again.

The words are sweet and they make you feel giddy as you unlock your phone.

Not at all! It was nice, my phone just died cause I didn’t have it plugged in :(

Was the frowny face professional? Absolutely not, but neither was falling asleep on the phone with the professor that you were currently studying under. And when he sends back a smiley face, you can’t help but let the thought of him possibly returning your small crush grow a bit.

A little bit of worry creeps in as well as you think about the consequences that could come along with this, but you brush them off before you can consider it for too long. You trusted Jiwoong, he knew what was right and what was wrong. After all, you recall an hour-long conversation the two of you had had about his love for self-help books. If something went too far, he would stop it.

Repeating that thought to yourself is what helps you pluck up enough courage to accept his request to call again that night. And the night after that after you had stayed till almost eight at night in his classroom with him. The two of you hadn’t even gotten any work done, opting for talking about anything and everything as he skimmed the same essay at least ten times.

White noise from your ceiling fan fills your room as you stare at the blades, watching as they spin around and around while you listen to Jiwoong talk about some movie that is coming out soon that he wants to see.

“Is this wrong?” you ask him abruptly when he finishes his sentence. On the other side of the line, he’s quiet.

“What do you mean?”

“For us to be on the phone like this…” you trail off as Jiwoong chuckles a little.

“No. I’m making sure you’re getting the proper amount of sleep you need, remember?”

You scoff, smiling as you roll your eyes. “Cause you’re so boring.”

“You would not still be talking to me the way you do if I was boring.” There’s a double meaning to his words. You’re not dumb, you can tell, especially after working with Literature majors for what was nearing a month.

“...You know what I mean.”

Jiwoong hums, “I do.” His effortless acknowledgment of the subject has you reeling. How could he be so casual about this? Like he couldn’t get in trouble if someone found out about the way you two had been interacting outside of the workplace? “It’s not wrong. We’re both adults.”

“But you’re technically my teacher…”

You feel like you said the wrong thing as soon as the words leave your mouth. Like acknowledging it was making it all seem too real for him, and you hear Jiwoong sigh softly. “Not really.”

You open your mouth to speak but before you do, Jiwoong continues. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, and I know this situation isn’t… ideal. That is, if you feel the same way I do.”

It was like everything else was forgotten for you. Everything about how this shouldn’t be happening in the slightest, how either one of your careers could be ruined if someone ever found out about this leaving your mind because it was just you and Jiwoong now. Jiwoong. Not Dr Kim.

Your heart is racing as you speak softly into the phone, “How do you feel?”

The way he doesn’t say anything at first tells you he’s thinking deeply. Probably considering how to word things without making things seem more taboo than they already were. For a moment, it’s almost like he’s there with you–you can see his dark brown irises and the thin curve of his upper lip, and you can smell one of the custom blends of cologne he loves creating so much. You close your eyes and listen to his breathing, pretending that he’s lying right next to you.

“I like you. A lot,” he says plainly, the man that you know to be so poetic with his words suddenly gone. “You’re the highlight of my day, the person that I rely on to make everything better even though you don’t realize it. I want to see you all of the time, not just in the professional setting.”

You don’t know what to say, don’t know what to think, your thoughts a muddled mess of everything you believed to be right and everything that you had deemed wrong. This didn’t feel real. You must’ve fallen asleep. You pinch your thigh softly as you continue staring at the back of your eyelids. There was no way this wasn’t a dream.

“I keep picturing you across the table from me at a nice restaurant because a girl like you should be spoiled. I want to experience new things with you, I want to watch you achieve your dreams and grow as a person. I… I want to see you when I come home in my t-shirt with dinner ready, and I want to watch you fall asleep, and be there when you wake up–”

“Jiwoong,” you interject. “Come pick me up.”

When he arrives at your apartment, you don’t bother changing out of your pajamas as you lock the door behind you, rushing to the elevator and out into the parking lot. The air feels heavy with humidity as you spot Jiwoong’s car. Every shred of hesitance you have is gone, as you get into his car, breathing heavily as you make eye contact with him. It wasn’t just the temperature that was making you feel warm anymore, it was this feeling between the two of you as he put the car into drive and took you back to his place.

You couldn’t even describe it. Tension wasn’t the right word because it felt like so much more than that. Like you had found the right place to fit your soul and it was being kept from you. Like you were the positive end of a magnet being pulled away from the negative side. You never thought you’d be able to feel so deeply for someone, but as Jiwoong’s hand slips into your own and he guides you into his apartment, the concept of loving someone more than yourself suddenly makes sense to you.

Regret is the last thing on your mind when your back hits the door and his lips are meeting yours. The rim of his glasses knocks against your nose a bit, but all you can feel is his hands gripping the skin of your waist. Jiwoong kisses you like he’s done it before, handling your body against his like you’re all he’s ever known. His tongue gently explores your mouth, his teeth biting down a little on your lower lip as he pulls away to rest his forehead on yours.

“Do you want this?”

You let out a deep breath, “Yes.”

He kisses you deeply again, and you taste the wine he must’ve been drinking before calling you. Jiwoong’s hands are careful as he pushes you back towards his bedroom, laying you back on his bed and the look in his eyes is one that you don’t want anyone else to see as he removes your shoes.

They’re practically glowing as they trail back up to your face, his cheeks are the same color as rosebuds and his lips are swollen from the way he’d been working them against your mouth. Hesitantly, you reach up, fingers removing his glasses from his face. The action is almost domestic, as if it was something you’d done together countless times before. When he blinks softly, you can tell his vision is adjusting, probably a little fuzzy without the aid of his prescription.

His pupils are blown and his lips are slightly parted and, yeah, you don’t want anyone else to see him like this.

Jiwoong lowers himself back over you, body already acting on instinct as he leans to kiss you again. The feeling of the minimal amounts of your skin on his, his scent filling your mind, his hands coming up to hold your face to him as he deepens the kiss has you clutching onto his glasses still in your hand pathetically. His tongue practically licks into your mouth and your heart races at the feelings coursing through you.

“So good… You taste so good…”

“Jiwoong–” He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him as his lips continue moving against yours. His taste takes over you as his tongue slowly flicks over your lower lip, gently requesting entry for an even deeper kiss.

“You’re so good. I can’t get enough of you. My sweet girl,” he says against your mouth, each syllable muffled by the gentle press of his tongue against yours as his hands slowly glide down your sides, softly tracing over your frame.

All of your rationale is consumed by desire as you press closer to him, his hands trailing down to your hips as he flips over, helping to maneuver you onto his lap. When you feel his fingers dip beneath the waistband of your sleep shorts and dig into your flesh over the thin fabric of your underwear.

“I tried, I tried so hard to resist you. But I can’t help it, YN, I want to enjoy you. Want to feel you.” Jiwoong’s voice is thick with need as he looks at you.

You nod softly. You’ve never wanted anything so badly before. “Please,” you agree.

Jiwoong smiles as you speak. “Do you really want this?”

Trying to think clearly for a moment, you do your best to think of what this could result in. This wasn’t just going to be a one-time thing, you knew that, and you still had a few months left for your student-teaching. But you cared about Jiwoong. You cared about him and you knew that you could make this work. You weren’t dumb.

So, you nod a little again, “I’m sure.”

“Okay,” he breathes. “Promise to tell me if you want to stop?”

His nose bumps against yours as he speaks, arms encircling you tighter, his body slowly pushing up to you. Your hands find his face again as he leans back against the pillows by his headboard. “I promise.”

Your heart flutters when his hands slip under the bottom of your shirt. “I’ll be gentle, and I’ll stop whenever you want, I just want to hold you and– and feel you–”

He cuts himself off with a low groan, your hips subconsciously rolling down onto his. You’re glad for the thin layers of clothing you’re wearing as you watch his head tilt back. Jiwoong’s breathing quickens as he moves his fingers down your spine, body continuing to push closer to you and you can feel the outline of his dick through his sweatpants, his length pressing up into your clit easily.

“You want me?”

Jiwoong responds instantly, bodies still moving gently against one another with an underlying need. “I want you. I want this, I want more–” He seems to regain a bit of his control as he lifts your shirt over your head, your skin bare beneath it and his fingers go up to flick at your nipples instantly. You jerk against him, the added sensations making your body move desperately to get more friction on your clit.

“From the first time I saw you,” Jiwoong begins against your skin as he moves his lips from your cheek to your neck, teeth grazing your skin. “I knew you were going to drive me crazy because I couldn’t have you but– God, but you’ll let me have you anyway right?”

You moan weakly, feeling the wetness begin to build up in your panties, “Yes!”

One of his hands leaves your tit to go to your neck, tracing over a bite mark he’d left on the flesh. His voice has a hint of a tremble in it as his breathing becomes heavier, “I’ve never wanted anyone or anything more than I want you. I can’t resist you, can you feel it? Can you feel how much I want you?”

You can, you’re grinding down onto him and it must be painful–how much he wants you.

“I want to hear you, sweet girl, I want to hear you moan, and cry out.” He pinches your nipple softly and you yelp, feeling that coil in your stomach begin to tighten. “I want to see you come undone.”

His hands push you further down in his lap as you let out a plea of his name, teetering right on the edge. It’s pathetic, honestly, he’s barely done anything and you’re still so close. But you’re so pent up from his teasing and his words and how beautiful he is. His smell, his words, how easy this all feels.

“Don’t hold back, YN, it’s okay… I want you to feel good.” You grip at his shoulders desperately, eyes squeezing shut as your orgasm hits you suddenly. “There we go, baby, come for me. You’re doing so well.”

Jiwoong doesn’t give you a moment to breathe, moving you so you take his spot against the pillows while he removes his clothing. If you didn’t feel so dazed, you would be able to appreciate the sight of his bare torso more, the way the muscles ripple under his skin as he moves on to his sweatpants. When he’s just in his boxers, Jiwoong presses his lips to your neck again.

He continues to kiss and nibble against the skin, taking his time and enjoying you, just like he said he would. The thought makes your thighs press together, another wave of arousal already passing through you again. You press your face into his hair, breathing in his scent as his teeth meet your neck. Jiwoong lets out a soft, shuddering sigh as you press your nose into the strands, his hands going back to traveling over your bare torso, circling your nipples.

“You’re mine?” His voice is thick with emotion, his words almost slurred as his mouth travels downwards to capture one of the buds in his mouth, suckling it softly and making you whine. You press a hand over your mouth, biting against it and muffling a moan as his hands move over your stomach and near the edge of your panties. He squeezes your hips, biting the bundle of nerves he has between his lips softly.

“Don’t muffle it, baby, I want to hear you.”

Everything about this feels so intimate. Like you’ve never reached this level of connection with another person, and all you can do is continue thinking of him. Your thoughts simply being: Jiwoong, Jiwoong, Jiwoong.

He’s removing your shorts along with your panties, “That’s a good girl… I want to feel more, come on, sweet girl, are you okay? Do you want to go further? You’re doing so well.”

“Yes, I want more,” you respond instantly. You’d be a fool not to and your heart steadies when you glance down to see the smile on his lips.

“You’re doing so well, my sweet girl, I’m so proud of you.” Jiwoong places one last kiss on your stomach before he leans up to kiss your lips again. Your head is swimming with desire, from being with him, from tasting his skin, from feeling him close to you like this.

You suck in a deep breath when he parts from you. “You can keep going.” His fingers brush over your ribs as he holds your face again, mouth pressing firmly against yours, exploring every inch of you as your bodies meld together. Everything feels so warm and it’s getting hard to breathe, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Please, Woongie, I want it–” The only thing separating your entrance from his cock is the material of his boxers, and you reach down to fumble with the waistband. Jiwoong chuckles softly, lips moving over your jaw. When you finally succeed in pushing them down enough to free his length, he slowly pulls back to look at you.

Jiwoong’s thumb runs over your lips at a speed that truly shows his control. “I want to be the only one who can make you feel like this.” You part your lips, taking the digit into your mouth. He lets out a low, soft moan as you swirl your tongue around his thumb, his eyes closing briefly before he opens them again. His gaze is the darkest you’ve ever seen it as he slides his finger out and away from your tongue.

“I want to be closer to you,” he trails off as he pecks your shoulder, and you groan when you finally feel the thickness of his tip run through your folds a few times before it finally gets caught on your entrance. “I want to know everything about you, want to explore every inch of you, to feel every part of you… I want to know what makes you feel good, how you like to be touched… kissed, every sound you make when I make you feel good.”

His mouth kisses over the shell of your ear as he speaks, “You’re mine. I want you, I want you so badly.”

“I know– I trust you.” It’s the last thing you get out before he’s stretching you open. The thickness of him fills you perfectly, every movement from him making you want to forget taking a moment to adjust and let him fuck you. His mouth is right next to your ear and you can hear every little breath, every little strained whimper leave him as you clench around him, shaping yourself to the shape of his cock.

Finally, after a moment of letting his hips sit against yours, enjoying the feeling of being connected, you whine. “Move, move, you can move–”

It doesn’t take him long to listen to you, thrusts beginning slow and deep as you cry out. His hands trail up and back down your side as he pushes into you at a pace that makes you want to sob from frustration. You feel your head spin as his mouth travels over your neck, lips pressed against your cheek before he kisses you again.

He starts moving a bit more, thrusts sharp as he quickly finds that little mushy spot inside of you, rubbing against it again and again to the point where you’re feeling the tears well up in your eyes.

“I’d do anything to have you like this. Always.” You barely register his words, the sound of skin slapping and the wetness of your juices almost drowning them out. Weakly, your fingers curl into his sheets as his pace slows, hips rolling against yours. “I want to be closer to you– closer, I need to feel you more.”

“How–” you get out before Jiwoong’s pulling you up towards him, holding your body against his tightly as his dick gets even deeper inside of you. His movements are shallow, but it feels like he’s in your stomach, and your moans are getting more and more strained as your throat begins to feel raw.

“Look,” he breathes, hand in your hair as he forces you to see where your bodies meet. The sight has you squeezing around him, the build-up already beginning in your lower abdomen again. Your poor clit looks so swollen as your walls stretch to swallow him with each of his movements, a ring of white settling at the base of his cock each time he fully enters you. “You’re so good for me.”

Your body continues pressing against his, and you cry out loudly, eyes squeezing shut.

“S’good… Lift your head back up– I want… I want to be able to–” He stops mid-sentence, his movements beginning to speed back up as he grips you tighter. You try to listen to him, but you think that your muscles are spasming as his mouth meets yours in a messy, passionate kiss. You can feel his body shaking, and you know he’s getting close too.

Jiwoong’s hands release you, and you fall back to lay against the pillows again, lower back arching to try and find his touch again. “Can’t–”

“You can, sweet girl… It’s okay, my baby, be good for me,” he speaks slowly, his words heavy with lust. “Be a good girl– Do it for me.”

“Okay,” you cry a little. Another soft moan slips from Jiwoong’s lips as he tries to get as close as possible to you again, moving his mouth near your ear.

“I’m almost there– Can I… Do you want–”

“Yeah, inside,” you breathe, chest heavy with the labored movement of sucking in air. And it’s barely a few more seconds before your high hits you. The sensation is so strong that your vision goes black for a moment, missing the way that Jiwoong’s eyes lock onto your face, hearing his name spill from your throat as his hips push against yours one last time. His hands grip your waist and his mouth opens with a loud groan of your name as he comes, body shaking lightly as he continues to hold onto you.

You feel warm as his body collapses, the weight comforting as the fuzziness from your orgasm begins to morph into exhaustion. You feel safe, like nothing could hurt you as he laughs shakily, kissing your cheek before he gets up to clean you up. You feel loved when he gets back in bed with you, cuddling you against him.

You don’t feel any regret at all when you wake up the next morning.

Later that week, Jiwoong takes you out on a date. Well, you can’t call it a date. He calls it a “professional meeting” as a joke because nothing about it is professional at all. Not the expensive restaurant he takes you to or how he pays for your meal or how the conversation is much too friendly for a teacher assistant and the professor she’s studying under. Especially not the way he fingers you as he drives you back to your apartment.

The nightly calls continue and so does staying later in his classroom. Things feel like they’re progressing at the normal rate for a relationship. Things feel like a normal relationship and suddenly, a month has gone by.

And you decide to bring it up.

“Are we dating?” you ask him one night, sat next to him at his desk per usual. You had just begun to grade small assignments from students on your own, Jiwoong checking over them once you were done, and he glances over your shoulder at the piece you’re working on. He doesn’t say anything. “Jiwoong.”

“I heard you,” he acknowledges before falling silent again.

Confusion enters your emotions as he continues working, completely ignoring your question. “So…” Suddenly, he groans, removing his glasses and rubbing over his face with one of his hands in a very dramatic fashion. You’re surprised at the reaction, to say the least, feeling your face scrunch up in the way he whined like a child. “What?” you press.

“YN, you know that’s not possible.”

You feel like you’ve been shocked. “So you’ll fuck me and take me out on dates but you won’t make me your girlfriend?”

“First of all, those aren’t dates–” You scoff, leaning back in your chair as you stare at him in disbelief. “And second of all, I’m technically your teacher– it just, a relationship wouldn’t work right now.”

You remember using those words towards him. You hate how he’s using them back towards you, it makes a weird feeling settle in your gut that you can’t really explain. What makes you feel worse is the way he slips his glasses back on and goes back to work like it was nothing.

“What about after I graduate?”

“That’s a ways away.”

“Okay… well, I want a future with you and I want to know where things stand–”

“And I told you where they stand, so drop it.” His tone is sharp, a timbre he’s never used on you before. Usually, he was so gentle with you, and the rudeness in his voice is something you’re not used to, making you shrink back a little.

After breathing heavily for a moment you continue, “Fine.”

“Don’t get short with me.”

Maybe you’re being a little petty. “I’m not being short, Jiwoong, I’m agreeing with you.”

You go back to the paper you’re reading, gripping your pen tightly as you consider what needs to be fixed. Anger is an emotion that you’re not fond of, you hate the way you let it control you, and you try not to focus on the emotion as Jiwoong sits silently next to you. Things feel cold all of a sudden, like a wall had been put up between the two of you.

“I’m sorry,” Jiwoong says abruptly, voice soft. You look back up at him to find him holding his hand out to you. Your eyes flick down to his outstretched hand, then back to his face. “Obviously I’ve never been in this situation before. I want to be careful with how we go about this, and I don’t want to date you privately–I want to show you off. It’s what you deserve.”

“It’s okay to have reservations, but I don’t want to waste my time if you can’t see this going anywhere,” you explain, voice matching his. Jiwoong nods in a way you think is supposed to show he understands you.

“Let’s give it a bit more time, okay? There’s no need to rush into things,” he says. And then he smiles a little, and you hate the way it instantly comforts you. Fighting back your own smile, you bite your tongue, which he notices, and proceeds to smile wider. “I care about you, and you care about me. Isn’t that all that matters right now?”

Begrudgingly, you place your hand in his and his fingers wrap around it, squeezing softly, “I guess.”

Against your better judgment, you stop fighting the smile. “Let me take you out tomorrow.” And you agree, because you think you’ve fallen in love with him.

When you arrive at his classroom the next morning, Jiwoong’s speaking with another one of the girls in your program. From the way her hair flows behind her perfectly and her tall height, you know it’s Xiaoting. You haven’t spoken to the girl a lot, but you know she’s very intelligent, or else she wouldn’t be assisting at the same university as you. Quietly, you slip into Jiwoong’s office, setting your bag down while trying not to interrupt their conversation. You stay in the room as you try to watch them through the crack in the door, trying to not make it apparent that you were attempting to eavesdrop. But she’s not there for much longer, and the blush on her cheeks is telling enough, along with her smile as she nods farewell.

That sinking feeling is back in your stomach again, and your heart feels heavy as you exit Jiwoong’s office, trying to look casual as the ugly feeling of jealousy grows within you. He greets you as usual, and you decide to take that as enough reassurance that everything is fine.

Everything is fine as the two of you joke throughout the day, as the two of you talk and work together. Everything is fine as he drives you back to your apartment, telling you he’ll pick you up at eight. Everything is fine as you get ready to go out and everything is fine as you sit on your couch, watching as the clock hits the time he’s supposed to meet you.

Maybe it’s traffic. Maybe he got held up with something else. You try to think of every possible scenario as you sit and wait, letting your mind run wild as you watch the hands of the clock hit nine. And then nine-thirty. When two hours pass you finally get up, trying not to cry as you go get ready for bed.

He hadn’t forgotten. There was no way. He had told you when he was going to pick you up. So what had happened? You want those feelings from the previous days to come back: the anger, the jealousy, but instead all you feel is embarrassment. You feel bad for yourself, and saddened at the fact that the small action that hadn’t even been explained yet chipped away at your trust for the man. You go to bed that night with a heavy heart, a sensation that was slowly becoming familiar to you.

The sound of your alarm is severely unwelcome the next morning. You lay in your bed for a bit, staring at your ceiling fan whirl around hypnotically. It’s easy to debate calling in sick, to want to lay in your bed for the rest of the day and to be dramatic over the fact that you had been stood up. You don’t want to see Jiwoong, but your curiosity gets the better of you. So, you go through the motions of your morning routine, make the drive to the university by yourself, and enter Jiwoong’s classroom to find him alone. You’re silent as you begin preparing the room for the day, even after he approaches you in the confines of his office and tries to give you a quick morning kiss.

A rush of satisfaction goes through you when surprise reads on his face after you dodge his attempt, pushing past him lightly. “YN…”

You don’t respond to him, pretending that you didn’t hear him as you go back into the main section of the classroom.

“YN,” Jiwoong calls again, following you. “Please, what’s wrong?”

Scoffing slightly, you turn to face him. “You really don’t know?”

The clueless expression he sports tells you enough and you press your lips together, nodding slightly. He’d always made you feel important and seen, and now you felt like the complete opposite. “I– wait, YN, I know. I’m sorry–”

“No, you don’t know!” you argue back. “Don’t act like you do, that makes it worse. Standing me up is bad enough, but you can’t even remember the fact that you did it? Do you know how embarrassing that is, Jiwoong?”

He shakes his head softly, trying to approach you again. When his hands try to hold onto yours, you rip them away from him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“No, of course I remember, sweet girl, of course I do– and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. The last thing I want you to feel is embarrassment.” You sniffle softly as you listen to him, and this time, you don’t push him away when his hands go to hold your face. “Something came up, YN, and I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t.”

“I want to trust you, Jiwoong, but I can’t–”

“Please believe me, YN, please, I can’t lose you.” Your eyes search his irises for anything that might tell you he’s lying, but all you can see is fear. He might not be telling the truth about what had happened, but he was scared. Scared that you weren’t going to hear him out.

You suck in a deep breath, “What happened?”

“Some teachers decided they wanted to get together and I couldn’t tell them that I already had plans and I didn’t want them to see me texting you and I… I’m sorry, I know it looks bad, but sweet girl, I swear I didn’t do anything to betray your trust.” You weigh his words for a moment as you look at him. If that scenario was true, you could understand where he was coming from. Anyone finding out about this relationship would get you kicked out of the program and cause Jiwoong to probably lose his job.

But that was the thing, you couldn’t tell if this scenario was true.

You wanted to believe him. After all, you loved him and you wanted to believe he would never do anything to hurt you. People always told you you were too forgiving, but you simply just put yourself in their shoes, trying to consider how they were feeling. This was just one mistake Jiwoong had made and when you thought about it, you knew he cared about you. He deserved a second chance.

“Fine.” His entire body relaxes instantly as he lets out a deep breath, pulling you into a tight hug. You feel his nose bury into your hair, inhaling deeply. “But don’t let it happen again. At least text me. Please.”

“It won’t happen again, my sweet girl, I swear.”

His lips press against your hair as he repeats that sentence over and over. And you believe him.

Jiwoong lives up to the promise. He showers you with his affections after that morning, getting you little gifts and taking you out more often. His words are sweet and sound like they could come from Shakespeare himself when he tells you he loves you. Buzzing with excitement and giddiness, you had told him you loved him too. But the thought of you still not being official with him was still planted in the back of your mind. You knew the reasoning, but that didn’t make you feel any better, even as you laid on his chest in his apartment while wearing his shirt.

It became customary for you to spend nights at his apartment after you both said the ‘L-word’. All you wanted to do was see him and to be with him constantly, it didn’t matter what you both were doing. And it seemed like the feeling was returned from him. Jiwoong bought things according to your preferences now and you had a toothbrush that sat next to his. With him, you felt safe, and as time passed, you felt more and more needed by him.

With the weekend finally arriving about three weeks after he stood you up, you had packed a bag, as usual, to go to Jiwoong’s for the weekend. Originally, you had told him you were going to stay back at your apartment and study that night, but as the night went on you missed him more and more. So you’d figured you’d surprise him. Was it crossing a boundary? You couldn’t tell, but you thought that he’d at least be okay with saying hi considering you might as well be his girlfriend at this point. And especially since he loved you.

Standing in front of his apartment door, you knock softly on the wood, forgoing the spare key so you at least wouldn’t barge in and scare him. For a moment nothing happens. You count to ten slowly before knocking again. In his apartment, you hear movement, before there’s the sound of the lock and Jiwoong’s peeking his head out into the hallway.

Your face lights up instantly at the sight of him, hair wet and face flushed. “Hi.”

“YN…” His smile looks forced as he keeps the door mostly shut. “What’re you doing here? I thought you were staying at yours this weekend?”

You take a step closer to the door, waiting for him to let you inside. “Well, I was, and then I was missing you, and I was hoping that you’d let me spend the night, but if not that’s totally fine–”

“No, no, of course, it’s alright, sweet girl, just give me a second to go put some clothes on.”

You think you see a flash of red hair as Jiwoong moves away from the door, closing it behind him quickly. Awkwardly, you stand in the hallway for another five minutes, playing with the strap of your bag as you glance up at the door every now and then. You play up the red hair you thought you saw to your imagination. And from how tired you were. Because who else would be in Jiwoong’s apartment this late at night?

When the door finally opens again, Jiwoong opens it fully, and to your relief, it’s just him. Him in a gray sweater and some pajama pants. He reaches for you, wrapping an arm around you as he kisses your hair. “You tired, sweet girl? It’s pretty late.”

You furrow your eyebrows as he closes the door behind you both. “I guess I could sleep… I was kind of hoping to spend some time with you though–”

“If you’re tired you should go to sleep.”

You laugh a little at the statement, following Jiwoong to his bedroom and dropping your bag on his floor. “Yeah…”

He goes over to his bed, pulling the covers back and motioning for you to crawl in. So you do, cuddling up to his chest like you usually do as he turns on the TV for background noise. For a while, it’s just the two of you talking about whatever, like you usually do, and slowly the tiredness does begin to set in, your eyes drooping as you listen to him ramble on. The soft sound of his voice always does wonders to calm you– a small bump from inside his closet rips that sense away immediately.

“What was that?” you ask, slightly scared.

Jiwoong laughs, pulling you back down to lay on him. “Probably just some shoe boxes that fell over. I’m going through my clothes right now… Why? D’you think it’s a ghost.”

Weakly, you hit his chest, “Very funny.” He chuckles softly once more, grabbing your hand to hold it against him. The lull of his heartbeat gets you to settle back down. Your eyes stay on the screen of the TV as he reaches over to shut off the bedside lamp, casting the room into darkness except for the blue glow from the device in front of his bed.

“I actually have a question for you,” Jiwoong says as you begin to drift off.

“Hmm?”

He pauses, and you know in typical Jiwoong fashion he’s thinking of how to phrase something. “If you’re okay with it… Would you like to officially be my girlfriend?”

The grin finds its way onto your lips easily, and you glance up to look at him. He’s also smiling.

“For real?”

“For real,” he repeats back to you, voice slightly mocking.

You laugh, a sleepy yet loving feeling taking over your heart. “Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend.” Jiwoong leans down, kissing you softly, and you bask in the sensation of his lips on yours, tongue pressing against yours in a way that somehow feels fond.

He pulls away, resting his cheek on your head, “I love you.”

As you fall asleep, those are the last words you hear, and you quietly repeat them back to him before slipping into unconsciousness. That night, you dream of Jiwoong going back to the entrance of his apartment, hearing him say goodbye to a woman with red hair. When you wake up, he’s still lying right next to you.

You feel so unbelievably happy as the two of you spend the rest of the weekend together and as you both get ready for the day when Monday rolls around. Jiwoong makes breakfast which you happily eat, only for you both to brush your teeth together and for him to sit and watch as you fix your makeup and hair before he drives you both to the university. You feel like you’re floating, like nothing could bring you down as you drop your things off in his office and as he kisses your cheek while you go off to one of the bathrooms.

In the girl’s bathroom is Xiaoting, standing in front of the mirror doing her makeup that she honestly doesn’t need in the slightest. You smile at her briefly, her returning it before you use the toilet and go back to the sink to wash your hands.

She flicks her hair over her shoulder, “Are my eye bags gone?” You glance at her face in the mirror, her skin practically flawless.

“I don’t think they were there to begin with.” The two of you laugh a little as you go to dry your hands.

“Well. I had a long weekend, so I was just double-checking.”

Going back to standing next to her, you watch as she fluffs her eyelashes with one of her fingers. “Was it at least a good weekend? Something about you looks different.”

“Ah, I got my hair done. Red’s cute, but I wanted to go darker for a little.”

You hate the paranoia that shoots through you at the mention of red hair, reminding yourself to trust your boyfriend as you maintain your smile at the older girl, “It’s pretty on you.”

“Thank you,” Xiaoting says sweetly, expression warm. “But, yeah, I had a good weekend. You?”

Subconsciously, your smile becomes a true one. “Um, yeah, the guy I’ve been talking to for a while asked me to be his girlfriend.” Xiaoting lets out a cute gasp that makes you laugh a little.

“Oh, that’s so exciting, happy for you.” She pulls out a lip liner, removing the cap before lifting the product to her lips. “Me, personally, I am taking a break from relationships right now…” she trails off, focusing on her makeup.

You hum softly in acknowledgment, “I thought you were seeing someone though? That’s what Sieun said.”

Xiaoting smirks a little, putting her lip liner away. “Ok, so, don’t tell anyone but I’ve actually been hooking up with one of the professors here.”

“Oh– wow,” you giggle, slightly stunned as Xiaoting nods.

“It’s nothing serious. I think he’s seeing another girl or something, but like– he’s hot and the dick is good so I can’t complain.”

Very girl’s girl of you, you think bitterly, but you can’t blame her. After all, she’s not the only one in a relationship with one of the professors here. “Can I ask who?”

The look she gives you has your stomach turning in a way that makes you almost feel nauseous, “Actually, it’s Dr Kim–”

You don’t hear the rest of the words she says. Everything feels like it goes silent as panic flares up in your chest. Not anger, not sadness, just pure panic because–what did this mean? You think that your hands are trembling as you nod robotically along to her words, cheeks hurting from the way your lips are uncomfortably turned upwards. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening, Jiwoong wouldn’t do this, there was no way. He wouldn’t betray your trust like that. No, Xiaoting was lying, she had to be because Jiwoong loved you.

“YN?” Her voice does little to break you from your thoughts, the shakiness of your panic and nerves still evident as you clasp your hands together.

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay? You look like you’re gonna get sick.”

“Ah…” You felt like you were going to be sick. You didn’t want to think about this anymore, but everything was starting to make sense: that night he stood you up, the red hair. Had he made you his girlfriend as a distraction? Is that what he was trying to do? You needed to go home. You had to get out of here, you didn’t care about figuring out if the girl next to you was lying or not, you just needed to get out. “I’m… yeah, I’m gonna go home.”

You don’t say anything else to her as you exit the bathroom, everything passing by in a blur as you rush out of the school. Unsure of where you’re even going, you start walking in the direction of the way you think leads to your apartment. You don’t really care though, because that’s when the tears begin to well up.

What had you done? Did you do something? Were you not good enough for him? Was your love not good enough for him? Sucking in small, shallow breaths while trying to calm yourself down, you can’t find it in yourself to care about the rest of the world as people on the sidewalk pass you, looking at you like they were scared of you. Tears slip down your face as you continue walking for an amount of time that you’re not even sure of. You feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, but you leave it there because you know who it is and you can’t talk to him. You can’t hear his voice because you know it’ll make everything seem fine again and it wasn’t.

There were small signs. You can’t believe you were dumb enough to ignore them.

You don’t know what time it is when you reach your apartment complex, but when you ride the elevator up to your floor and stand in front of your door, you realize that your keys are in your bag. And your bag is in Jiwoong’s office. It’s like that’s the final straw, and you're sobbing as you struggle with the doorknob. Nothing was fair. Eventually, you pick yourself up enough to go back down to the receptionist to ask for the spare key and she must feel the right amount of pity for you to give you the key without question.

Being in your apartment is a comfort you haven’t felt in a while. Partly because you can lay in your bed for the rest of the day and partly because there’s nothing that reminds you of Jiwoong here. It was always you going to his apartment. The apartment he took all of his girls to.

You don’t bother with checking your phone for the rest of the night, not caring about the way its vibrations have begun to slow down or how it rings before you put it on silent mode and leave it on your kitchen counter. Instead, you use your laptop to email the head of the program that you had left early that day because you were feeling sick, not having time to tell anyone else. You don’t care if she doesn’t believe you, you just want to lay in bed and feel sorry for yourself.

You fall asleep early that night, body exhausted from the amount of crying you’ve done and now numb to the hurt you feel. What pulls you from your dreamless sleep though, is the loud knocking on your apartment door. Sluggishly, you pull yourself out of bed when the knocking doesn’t stop after a while, looking through the peephole to find the one person you didn’t want to see. But that doesn’t stop you from cracking the door open a bit, and you suddenly get deja vu from the previous weekend.

“YN–”

“What do you want,” your voice is flat as you watch Jiwoong try to reach for the door. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you feel the first flames of anger begin to ignite. He didn’t have anything to say? He wanted to act dumb? “What do you want, Jiwoong?”

“Please, you just need to hear me out–”

“Hear what out? When did you start sleeping with her?” He doesn’t even try to deny anything, knowing he’s been caught and the thought makes you want to scream in frustration and pull at your hair. “When?” you repeat angrily.

Jiwoong sucks in a small breath as he runs his hand through his hair, “YN, you have to understand, Xiaoting doesn’t mean anything to me–”

“Clearly neither do I!”

“YN–”

“When, Jiwoong.”

He hesitates before speaking, “A week after you and I had sex for the first time.” He looks ashamed. You never thought you’d see a man like him look like a kicked puppy, but that’s what he did look like, and the sight didn’t even satisfy you in the slightest.

“I trusted you–”

“You still can–”

You push the door open, revealing the full sight of him. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear it. Let me talk, not you.”

Instantly, he nods, complying with your wishes. Trying to control your frustration, you breathe slowly. “I trusted you, considering everything. I gave you multiple chances, and you still did this, and honestly? I don’t even care why.” That’s a lie, you do care, you care a lot. You don’t want to cry, but all of the emotions are too much, and as you speak you feel the tears begin to fall down your cheeks.

“I don’t want to see you again. I’m going to transfer to a different assisting job, and I don’t want you to ever try to contact me again.”

Jiwoong’s gaze hardens, and suddenly, the man who looked so sorry just a few moments ago looks scary. His eyes look dead, mouth sat in a firm line as he stares down at you, rising to his full height.

“You don’t want to do that, YN, really.”

“Don’t threaten me, I’ll call the police,” you warn, not backing down despite the feeling in your stomach that’s telling you to slam the door in his face. “I want my bags back. For all I care, you can give them to Xiaoting and have her bring me them.”

His chuckle has a wary shiver running down your spine. “Don’t leave me, sweet girl, it won’t end well for you.”

When you look in his eyes, you don’t find any of the Jiwoong you used to know. Nothing of the Jiwoong you’re in love with and your heart somehow breaks even more. “Good night, Dr Kim.” You close the door, ignoring how angry he sounds on the other side of it as you lock it behind you, going back to your bedroom before letting the rest of your tears out into the sheets.

Peace is hard to find, you conclude as you take the next two days off from your student teaching, staying away from all and any forms of social media as you tried to heal as much as you could in such a short amount of time. You still loved Jiwoong, there was no way feelings as strong as the love you had for him would go away in two short days. The thought of it made you angry, but ultimately, you just wanted to ignore anything to do with the man for as long as you could. So on that third day, you had opened your laptop to request a change in who you were studying under.

You weren’t sure if that was even possible, changing your assignment, and you weren’t sure of what excuse you could come up with, but you figured you’d think of something.

“What…” you say softly to yourself at the email from your program already sitting in the inbox.

As your eyes skim over the first few words, your heart falls to your stomach.

“No, no, no,” you repeat softly to yourself, desperately clicking on the box frantically, trying to convince yourself that you were just having a horrible dream.

…Due to inappropriate advances made towards staff, you have been removed from this program… Your life is ruined in one email. In six words. You don’t feel anything and all you can think of is: How did this happen? But deep down, you know, and as the first sob leaves your throat, you hear his voice in the back of your head: “You don’t want to do that, YN, really.”

The air was humid as you entered the small bookstore, the heavy feeling in the atmosphere cluing you into the warm summer’s rain that was on its way. You fix your bag over your shoulder as the smell of paper and coffee fills your nose, a sense of safety grounding you as you look around the small space. Few customers are there, considering you weren’t working the busy hours that day, just from dinner time till closing.

“Hi Ms Park,” you greet the owner behind the checkout counter softly, and the old lady smiles at you as you pass behind her to hang your things up before you begin your shift.

Life was hard after you were expelled from your education program. You had been left to try and figure out where to go from there. Thankfully, you were able to find another program that would accept you. It was through a smaller school, and you would always have that expulsion on your record, but after a hard month, you could finally see your life getting back on track. And you were working in your favorite bookstore during the meantime, trying to save up money for your future.

You adjust the nametag on your top before going back out, asking Ms Park what she wanted you to do first and she was quick to direct you towards a cart of new material, kindly telling you to shelf the books. Doing work like this was good for you, you had concluded. The monotonous actions that you repeated over and over again silenced your mind, pushing those thoughts away that would try to creep into your still-healing mind. And heart.

Hours pass as you continue working, completing little tasks that the sweet owner asks of you, and as you tidy up one of the back corners, you hear her voice. “YN?”

“Mhm?” you hum, glancing at the mess you still needed to finish picking up as you turn around.

You think your heart stops when you see him standing next to your frail-looking boss. You feel yourself freeze, the fear that even just the mention of his name causes you magnifying by the thousands. When you catch yourself, you do your best to snap out of it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you so timid.

“Jiwoong’s looking for something? Would you mind helping him find it?”

You grit your teeth a little, “Of course, Ms Park.” The old lady smiles as she looks up at Jiwoong, patting his arm softly before leaving you alone with him.

You do nothing except stare at him for a moment, not convinced that this was really happening.

“It’s good to see you.” You don’t say anything. Jiwoong smirks as he steps closer to you, head tilting to the side. “I don’t think you’re supposed to give customers the silent treatment.”

Pushing down your anger, you do your best to keep your face expressionless. “What can I help you with?”

The sight of his smile makes you resist the urge to hit him. “When do you get off?”

“What can I help you find?” you try again, shifting back a little as he moves forward again.

“You know… I’ve been going to this bookstore for a long time, and only recently did they move the poetry section.” You swallow harshly. “Care taking me there?”

Shakily, you lift your hand to point in the direction of the genre he was speaking about, “Head in that direction and they’re behind the shelf and to the right.”

“Mmm, you should come with me.” You don’t say anything, avoiding his gaze. His light touch on your chin makes you flinch softly and he coos a little. “Don’t be scared, sweet girl, I wouldn’t hurt you. But if you need another lesson, I’d be more than happy to give it to you.”

“Don’t–”

“I heard you’re entering a new program? One of my friends works at the place you’re going to.”

The combination of fear with the distant mix of love is something you thought never would’ve been possible. But even after everything he’s done, after the time you’ve spent away from him, you can’t ignore the love you’d once felt towards him.

Jiwoong smiles softly, “Come to dinner with me tonight.”

“No,” you reject softly and his grip on your chin tightens slightly.

“Come on, YN, I apologized for the whole Xiaoting mishap, didn’t I? I would hate to have a talk with your new program coordinator about… the things you’ve done. After all of the time I’ve given you to think about things too.”

You feel humiliated as your cheeks warm. Despite it just being the two of you in the back corner of the store, you feel like there are so many eyes on you. Most of all, you feel ashamed over the little flicker of excitement in your heart at the thought of seeing him like that again. Intimate. On a date. With you.

Your throat feels swollen as you nod slightly.

“Ah, there’s my girl,” Jiwoong says, and the happy tone of his voice is something that would’ve tricked you in the past. You don’t know what he’s doing. You don’t know why he’s still holding onto you like this. “I’ve missed you, my sweet girl. I knew you weren’t dumb enough to make the same mistake of leaving me again.”

Jiwoong’s hand runs over your hair, “I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

But you feel dumb as you silently agree with him, falling back into his trap and sealing your fate as he grins.

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