#Angst & fluff & humor

[fellow-fandom-fruitifier]

I am so bored & wanting 2 write a fic rn, but I don’t wanna burn myself out when it comes 2 my Brain Freeze AU fic so if any1 has literally any ideas that have 2 do w/ 6EM (bcz when I tell u I am hyperfixating on that mfer rn I mean I am HYPERFIXATING) I will write abt it

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]

in holy matriphony ch4. in a mother’s eyes

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, and have been taking care of your sick mother ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket to more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance plan in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.

ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity, mentions of cigarettes, depression/anxiety; btw gojo in this fic is in his mid 30s n reader is in her late 20s

ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!

ᰔ chapter. 4/x

ᰔ words. 10k (omg a whole number...very sexy)

a/n. hellooo my ihm friends! hope you're all doing well. ahh i'm glad to finally be posting this chapter lolol. it's a littleee off tangent from what happens in ch3, but still has some important plot developments. it does dive into feelings of depression & anxiety, so just wanted to give a warning on that! but yea other than that i hope you enjoy and see you at the bottom!! :) also so sorry if there are errors i only had time to skim through it once :((

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 (pending)

“Just go ahead and sign right here for me.”

You take the pen from the hospice nurse’s hand. It’s cheap black plastic with a pink fuzzy pom pom attached to the end of it with peeling glue. 

Your eyes briefly flit across the paragraphs detailed in printed ink until your gaze lands on the highlighted lines at the bottom of the page. Your signature. Spouse’s signature.

“We’ll need to have your husband come here to sign the paperwork as well, since he’ll have to add your mother on his list of dependents, but we can certainly get started on expediting this process for you since the insurance has already been pre-approved,” the nurse tells you as she accepts your signed paperwork and then neatly tucks it into one of the compartment holders. 

The afternoon goes by smoothly, with your mother surprisingly patient as she sits in the waiting room while you wait for the nurses to formally show you to her new room.

You thought that you could put off putting her in hospice for a little longer, because in all honesty, you weren’t prepared to let her go just yet. You weren’t prepared to not have her in the house anymore. But lately, she’s been putting herself in lots of danger, like attempting to take her own medications when she does not know the correct dosing, and forgetting things on the stove when she attempts to cook.

But the last straw was when you came home from a very brief run to the grocery store at night a couple days ago to see a handful of your neighbors out on the front lawn with your mother at their side. She had apparently gotten out of the house and walked down the neighborhood, then fallen on the sidewalk but was unable to get up. When your neighbors had found her, a miracle as they were just coming home from dinner and caught sight of her in the illumination of their headlights, they tried to help her get up but she couldn’t. She couldn’t even tell the firefighters that came by to help her what her name was, or what year it was, or where she lived.

It was when you realized you couldn’t even keep her safe anymore that you had to let go.

“Is that a wedding ring?” your mother asks, pointing a trembling finger to it as she lays tucked inside her new hospice bed, “are you married?”

You glance down at the ring Gojo gave you in the courthouse, almost surprised to find that you were still wearing it in good faith. “Yes, mom. I am.”

“Why am I here?” she asks you, “I don’t want to be here.”

You stiffen a little. Although you were mentally preparing yourself to answer these questions, the preparation didn’t make it any easier. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just for a little short while, okay? The doctors want to run some tests on you.”

“Who are you married to?” she asks.

“To Satoru,” you tell her, “our neighbor.”

She lets out a small gasp. “The sweet boy who fixed our A/C?”

You roll your eyes. not sure why your mother has hyper fixated on that memory with Gojo when most days she’ll look at you like you’re a stranger. “Yes mom.”

“Oh, I like him,” she tells you with an affectionate nod. She hesitates slightly, wearisome of some other thought that flashes through her mind. “How long have you been married?”

You let out a small sigh. This is already a conversation you had with her a couple days ago, and it doesn’t feel good to lie to her. It was hard enough to do once, but to have to constantly lie to her over and over again over all the smallest things just so that she stays calm and safe and happy seems to drain you of all your energy and happiness you had left in your bones.

Little white lies, that’s what they are. Harmless ones. That’s what you tell yourself to absolve yourself of the guilt.

“I’ll come back soon, okay? I’ll tell you more about him some other day,” you say to her, speaking gently in the way an adult would speak to a child. The way she used to speak to you. You could never exactly pinpoint when those roles became reversed.

You finish discussing some more insurance matters with the front-desk nurse as she puts together a small folder of documents for you. While she works, you glance at the little counter shelf that includes a plethora of pamphlets on how to deal with the complicated feelings that arise from putting a loved one in hospice care, and dealing with the emotions of having a relative with advanced stage dementia. They are pretty brochures, lovingly creased at the folds as if looked through multiple times by people who walk in and out of this facility, but seemingly only few take them home. You slip one of each into your folder when the nurse hands it to you, manage the best smile possible, and then turn on your heel to head out the hospice doors.

The sun is setting outside as you take the walk back to your car, which was purposefully parked a half mile away to afford you the luxury of a melancholic stroll. Somehow, you feel like you’ve left a piece of yourself back at the hospice. A feeling you can’t quite shake from your bones.

Your feet stop walking somewhere along the sidewalk on their own, the street lights above you flickering brighter into life as the sky is now a dusty gray with only streaks of purple. There’s a liquor store you spot across a small parking lot to your right, and you’re guided towards it, but not without a sickening feeling in your chest.

When you open the door, the bell at the top jingles, and you glance to the right where you see a lanky young man playing some sort of shooter game on his phone by the cash register. You grab a bottle of vodka, a bottle of white wine, some packs of skittles, one of the mini pizza boxes at the hot food station, and then dump it all onto the counter.

The young man scans all your items without even so much as sparing you a glance, but does take a look at your ID, then says, “Total’s $68.65, cash or card?”

“Card.”

Just before you tap your card, something displayed behind the cashier counter catches your eye. Something familiar, something tempting, something you weigh in your head about twenty times within one millisecond all due to the cortisol coursing through your veins and you eventually say, “Uh, and could I get one of those, too?”

The cashier looks behind himself to what you’re pointing at before turning around. “Sure.”

The same jingle is heard on top of your head as you leave the store, now with a burning hot mini pizza box in your hand as well as a plastic bag that carries your candy and the two clinking bottles of alcohol.

“Oh!! omg, y/n,” you hear a feminine voice call out and you’re instantly wincing. The last thing you wanted was to be bothered right now. You just wanted to go home and get drunk and then pass out on the floor of your living room. But alas, the world is small.

You turn around to see Hana come running across the sidewalk lot towards you, and when she’s about a few feet away, she glances down at your hands and all the things you were carrying. You quickly shove your last-minute purchase into your jacket pocket with a shameful conscience, and try to hide the plastic bag of liquor behind your calves. There was no hiding the pizza box, but at least that was the least incriminating.

“Oh, Hana, wow! What a coincidence seeing you here,” you say to her, pressing your lips into a small smile.

“Yeah, I um,” she points over her shoulder towards the hospice that’s standing tall in the darkness of night, cells with windows illuminated with light. If you didn’t know any better, you would think it was a prison. “Remember I told you my friend’s mom is sick and she’s at this hospice?”

“Yeah,” you say.

“I was just visiting her mom with her,” she tells you.

“Aw,” you comment, “I see, I see.”

You adore Hana, you really do. She was there for you when the whole Yuna and Choso thing went down, picking your shifts up for a good week when you couldn’t stomach going into work when your ex-best friend’s stupid face was gloating in the halls over how she stole your boyfriend. Hana was there for you when you were a new hire and all the doctors were being bitchy about a “newbie in the ED”, but she stood up for you, even cussed the fuck out of one of attendings for the whole hall to hear when you were being disrespected by one of them. She’s someone you can beam about how hot the EMT and Firefighter men that stroll into the ED are, too. A priceless companion.

And even though you two have hung out after hours sometimes, it was still always a little awkward to see a coworker outside of work.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

“I actually, um, was going to tell you at our shift tomorrow, but I just admitted my mom to the hospice too,” you say, “and…thanks a lot for telling me about it. I really appreciate it. It seems like a wonderful facility.”

Her eyes briefly widen with surprise before they soften once again. “Oh, that’s wonderful, love. I hope all goes well. And your little insurance scam worked! Good for you!”

“Shhh,” you hiss at her, looking around yourself with paranoia, “the feds are everywhere.”

She laughs, sweet in the air, before the sound settles and she looks at you with something reminiscent of well-intentioned concern. Her eyes flit to the plastic bag you were still holding behind your legs. “Hey…um, if…if you ever want some company when you come to visit your mom, just let me know. I hope you know you don’t have to do everything alone.”

You blink at her, sucking in a short breath to respond, but it only leaves you as a slight puff of air. There’s a silent gratitude that you give her, because it’s hard for you to express any feelings with words, but you’ve found that the people in your life who know you best can always read you without them. 

“Thank you, Hana,” you manage to say with a slight croak to your voice because you were fighting back tears.

She smiles at you. “Take care, okay? And see ya tomorroooowwwwww,” she coos at you, coming up to you to give you a small hug, a squeeze of your upper arm, and then she heads back towards the direction of the hospice.

You watch her walk away until you can’t see her anymore. And then you head towards your car.

When you arrive at your neighborhood, you park in front of Gojo’s house. You have a feeling that you won’t be able to bear the vast emptiness of your home now that your mother is elsewhere, and so you drag your feet up the stone stairs of his house with a heavy heart instead.

The spare key that he gave you weakly pushes into the keyhole with about as much force as your fingers can manage, and you realize they almost feel atrophied. 

The house is dark when you step inside, spare for the ambient street lights shining through cracked open blinds on the windows, and the curtains rustle gently from the draft of the AC, a chill that reaches you too by the time you make it to the staircase.

It doesn’t seem like Gojo’s home. A glance at the clock tells you it’s close to 8pm. You briefly consider texting him to ask where he’s at, why he’s out so late, when he’ll be home, and what’s for dinner, but you can’t even bring yourself to pull your phone out of your coat pocket.

Weak legs manage to take you upstairs and you’re about to pass through to your room when the slightly open door to the master bedroom taunts you, like a peephole into some other wordly dimension. Like the wardrobe in the chronicles of Narnia. A portal into your fake husband’s life.

With a palm pushing on the door, you slowly crack it open, and you know the anxious voices in your head are getting worse by the day when the creaking of the door hinges sounds like a lullaby to you. 

Was this an invasion of privacy? And did you really care if it was?

The room is big, with a king sized bed off to the left, sheets neatly made and duvet primly tucked under, like the way hotel beds are set up. You feel a slight flush of embarrassment when you remember you haven’t been making your bed in the mornings for the past couple days you’ve been living here so far, and you wonder if Gojo would judge you for something like that. If he’d think you were a messy or undisciplined person. If he would think less of you.

Truthfully, in a lot of ways, you still felt like a child. You barely weathered a lot of your formative adolescent years when dealing with your parents’ divorce, and you’ve had to put so much of your life on pause to take care of your mom ever since she got diagnosed. So here you were, in the body of a 29-year-old woman, yet still feeling so painfully juvenile. One that forgets to make her bed in the mornings, and on most nights can’t seem to stomach anything other than cereal for dinner. It was like you were still at a party that everyone else had left, except all it ever was is hell. Your life was such a stark contrast to the lives of other adults you’ve come across. The ones that wake up at six to go on runs, the ones that have paid off mortgages with five figures in their retirement accounts, oh god, the ones that meal prep, and the ones that, all things considered, have their lives together. The ones that don’t spend at least an hour of every day, in fetal position on their bed, sobbing until tears soak through the sheets of the pillow down to the feathers like bone, because you’re so overwhelmed with stress and preparing yourself for the grief of losing your mother which you know that, no matter how hard you try to save her from, will inevitably one day come. 

You used to cook dinner every night, make your bed every morning, and go to pilates on the weekends. Back when you were a little younger and healed and excited to live life. But now, you barely get by. Your priorities are with your mother. You can’t remember the last time you did anything nice for yourself, including something as simple as the luxury of getting to come home to a clean house because you hardly ever had time to clean it, not with all the doctor’s appointments you were driving your mother to, not with all the extra shifts you were picking up at the hospital to pay off your debt, not with all the times you felt too depressed to even get out of bed. 

But your mother is in hospice now, so you’ve made time, right? You’ve made the decision that everyone in your life has been begging you to finally do. So why do you still feel so empty inside?

By a quick survey of the room, you notice Gojo doesn’t really have many framed photos hung up on the walls or perched up on surfaces. None, actually. Only a contemporary painting above his bed frame and then a faded vintage horror movie poster plastered up near his desk. Not terribly odd, since in your experience most men don’t really do the whole “cluttering the house with millions of photos of their family” thing until they at least have a couple of kids and some purebred dog. The thought of Gojo someday setting up a little portrait photo at his desk with his wife’s—his eventual real forever wife’s, pretty face in it, posing with their two beautiful kids, makes an oddly melancholic feeling waft through you. You wonder if he would keep a two-by-two in his wallet, too.

Your feet move one in front of the other as your finger traces the surface wood of a dresser cabinet, something that looks a little vintage and oaky, in stark contrast to the modern minimalist vibe Gojo has set up in the rest of the room. A family heirloom, maybe? There’s no dust that coats your finger, which surprises you. If you were to run your finger across your dresser at home you’d have collected enough dust to snort down your windpipes like a recreational drug. But Gojo’s a real estate agent, making a living off of dressing houses up in perfect cosplay so that monetarily stable middle class families feel inclined to buy them. So you’re not exactly surprised he’s invested in keeping his own house in pristine condition too. 

There is a little bit of chaos, though. Like the shirt he has haphazardly hung over his chair at his office space over to the right. There’s a coffee mug sitting there too, porcelain and reflecting the moon light off, but upon peering inside you see that it’s half empty with stale coffee. He’s got pens sprawled across the desk, in a fashion that suggests he accidentally knocked them over in a rush, and slowly, like some grounding exercise, you place them one by one back into the paper mache pencil holder. It briefly occurs to you that he has a lot of paper mache containers of sorts around the house. You lift up the pencil cup, turning it in your hand until your eyes catch something written on it with glittery pink gel pen.

i luv u unkle toru! -yur BEST FREND 4EVUR juno!!! :D

A small smile makes it onto your face. The handwriting was messy, more like scratches than smooth lines, and nothing less than what you would expect of a child. You remember making paper mache and clay trinkets at preschool for your mom and dad when you were younger. And you’re sure if you were brave enough to open the box of memorabilia that sits in your attic some day, you’d see your own scratchy scribbled handwriting on them. An innocence that is long gone and buried, never again to be delicately placed on desks or counters for all the living.

The draft from the AC reaches you once again, brushing over your skin and causing a chill to shiver down your spine. It kicks at the curtains as well, causing them to ruffle up towards you, baring the dark outside world into the streets. And you notice in that momentary glance that there’s a roof just outside the window that overlooks the backyard. A roof? Spotted by a depressed woman going through a quarter life crisis? There was nothing more tempting than that. 

The window was easy to open, which only caused unease over the revelation of how easy it would be for someone to rob this house. You make a mental note to tell Gojo to get a ring camera or security system of some sort since he doesn’t seem to have one, but you can already picture him telling you something about how statistically low the crime rates are in this neighborhood compared to all the other neighborhoods, and then you’d tell him that it’s just for your peace of mind. But whether he’d compromise or not after that, you’re really not sure.

You take a seat on the roof, a little scared as you sit because of the slight slope, but it’s comfortable once you’re settled. You sit criss-cross-apple-sauce, staring out into the neighborhood of perfectly lined up suburban houses. You’ve got a better view into some neighbors' backyards, noticing that a couple of them had pools while some of them have big gardens. There's a cat resting up on a fence in the distance. A car drives by with headlights illuminating everything in its proximity briefly before zooming off. You glance up at the sky, and notice the full moon, but it’s too cloudy to see any stars. Or perhaps it was just the light pollution from the lamps making it difficult to see.

On instinct, your hand reaches inside your coat pocket for your phone, but your knuckles hit something else instead. A moment of brief confusion flickers through your head, but then you immediately recall the last-minute purchase you made at the gas station.

Your hand pulls out the object, and then you stare down at it. Squinting your eyes a little, because it’s a sight that feels familiar but also one you haven’t seen in so long: a pack of twenty Marlboro red cigarettes. 

You’ve tried a lot of things to manage your stress over the years. Excessively working out, eating a lot of sugar, going on six hour hikes to touch grass, flirting with random men at bars, fucking Choso until he was rendered speechless, multiple types of antidepressants, you almost tried smoking weed once with your roommate in college but you wimped out last second. But the habit that had gotten you through the years of 21 to 24 is held loosely in your hand right now. It’s been five years since you quit, but resolve was often a fickle thing. As the saying goes, once an addict, always an addict. 

There’s a brief moment of hesitation as you slowly peel the plastic off of the back, but then it all comes back to you like a reflex you’ll never forget up to where you slide a cigar up out and then pinch it between your two fingers. Forgetting to buy a lighter with the cigarettes is definitely something you would do, but because you remembered it was something that you would do, you remembered not to do it. The flick of the flame coming to life is ASMR you didn’t know you were painfully nostalgic for, and you balance the cigarette between your lips in that sort of movie-star way people used to obsess over back in the day. But just as you bring the lighter up to the end of the cigarette, and just before you can light it—

A hand shoots out in your periphery, grabbing your wrist and entirely stalling the movement.

You gasp, lips parting enough for the cigarette to fall from them and into your lap. The hand wrapped around your wrist is large and masculine, and you briefly consider screaming, but when you snap your neck to look at the perpetrator, you see Gojo crouched down next to you on this roof. You notice he’s wearing a black suit, a tie that was loosely secure hanging from his neck into the space between his spread thighs as he’s crouched, and whatever gel he had in his hair from earlier only barely remains as strands fall over his forehead haphazardly. He looks like he’s on the other end of a long work day. 

You blink at him, expression plastered with surprise, but his is only earnest. With breathtaking blue eyes that you realize he could easily use to surrender a person just by looking at them, like the way he’s looking at you right now. His lips are pressed together into a firm line, as if to suppress some emotion, but the slight crease to his brow makes you feel like you’re in trouble somehow. Like he was silently scolding you for something.

“I—” you stutter.

He lets go of your wrist and discreetly pulls the lighter out of your hand. And then his hand reaches for the pack of cigarettes you were balancing on your knee, but on some reflex that you don’t even think about, you try to snatch them away from him, and now you’re both tugging at the same pack of cigarettes.

“y/n,” he says, “let go.”

“No,” you say stubbornly.

He sighs and tugs a little harder. “Give them to me.”

“But—” you stammer, voice becoming softer to see if that’d work on him, “I’m…” Your grip on them tightens. “I’m stressed.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, then finally loses his patience and snatches them right out of your hand. He stands up from his crouched down position to toss the pack off to the side onto the roof somewhere. You’re surprised when he lets out a sigh and sits down next to you on the roof, as if he felt the obligation to. His legs stretch out in front of him, but still bent slightly at the knees, and he leans backwards with his body weight braced on his palms laid flat on wood paneling behind him. “There are better ways to relieve stress,” he tells you candidly. 

“Like what?” you ask, and just when he opens his mouth to speak, you clarify, “and don’t say sex.”

He shuts his mouth and his eyes flit up to the sky for a brief second. “Damn. I didn’t have a back-up answer.” 

You roll your eyes, releasing a deep breath, then draw your knees to your chest before resting your chin on top of them. 

“I didn’t know you smoke,” he says after a century-long minute. 

You wince a little, because you were half hoping he was going to just drop the subject all together. 

You bite your lip nervously and hug your knees to your chest tighter as if to hide yourself from him. “I don’t. Well, I haven’t. Um, not for a while.”

“Huh. I see,” he says.

Another silence passes, and as he shuffles next to you, the fabric of his suit brushes against the fabric of your coat, and you’ve become entirely too aware of the feeling.

“So,” he says, breaking the awkward silence, “your mom’s in hospice now?”

You nod, enthusiastic enough to where you won’t look like you’re entirely depressed about it.

“That’s good,” he says, “no issues with the insurance?”

You shake your head. “They need you to sign some papers by the end of the week though,” you tell him. “We’ll have to go in person.”

He nods slowly to affirm he’ll make time for it. “I really hope things get better for your mom,” he says, voice soft as he stares off into neighbors homes like you had been doing ten minutes ago. You see the cat that was resting on the fence get up, do a big stretch, and start walking along the length of the fence. Your eyes briefly glance at Gojo, and you notice his gaze is tracing the cat’s path. 

“My—” you start, hesitant all of a sudden by the vulnerability you already feel swelling within you, most definitely due to sitting with someone on a rooftop late at night, but you decide that you’ll be nice to him for once, “…my mom seems to remember you a lot. More than she remembers me.” You let out a small humoring laugh, as if that fact doesn’t completely destroy you. “She was blabbering to me again for the seventh time about how you apparently fixed our AC.” You try to bite your tongue, but can’t help it when you say, “although I’m pretty sure you just pressed a bunch of buttons until it started working again.”

“Yup. That’s exactly what I did.”

You roll your eyes and sigh.

Another awkward silence.

“Can I ask you a question?” you say.

“Sure.” His voice sounds deeper, like he’s sleepy. 

“Why did you agree to marry me? That’s not something people just do out of nowhere.”

He glances over at you, and you flicker your eyes to him. “Why? Having regrets?” he teases, with a slight nudge of his elbow to your side. 

“Just answer me.”

He lifts his palms up from behind him and leans forward, placing his hands on his knees instead. “I don’t know. If something I could do would help someone out that much, I wasn’t going to say no.”

You hum quietly, still confused by his intentions. But you’re too jaded to question them.

“It costs nothing to be nice,” he adds. 

You run soothing circles over your thigh through the fabric of your jeans. For some reason, your mind wanders to Choso. Thinking of all the years you wasted staying with him even though you knew his affections were long gone, just because you didn’t want to break his heart. Only to realize that you never had that privilege in the first place. 

“I think,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper as you draw your knees closer to your chest, “that sometimes it does.”

A gust of autumn wind breezes by, ruffling the trees that the two of you are at eye-level with at the moment. You're pretty sure you’ve completely lost Gojo’s interest at this point, where he’s finally too tired to deal with your oddly cryptic attitudes and overall generally displeasing vibe, assuming this based solely on his prolonged silence beside you. You’re ready for him to get up and abandon you here on this roof, left to ponder every single thing you’ve done wrong in your life. It was any second now.

“Sometimes,” he instead speaks up, and it’s so surprising to you that you jolt a little bit, “you can do everything right, and people will still find a way to fuck you over. But I don’t think that’s any reason to stop being nice to others.”

You glance over at him, your eyes widening slightly, but he just continues to peer off straight into the night. His blinks are slow, lingering on being closed for a moment before he opens them again, and you’re mesmerized by the sight. The skin under his eyes is slightly dark from exhaustion, heavy with character that makes you aware that he’s just a person too. And for what feels like the tenth time this week, you realize that he’s—…handsome. And for what feels like the tenth time this week, your heart flutters in your chest.

He scoffs suddenly and dusts his hands off. “I sound like a fucking youth pastor.” He lets out an exhale before suddenly standing up onto his feet before you can think more on it. He looks off into the night again and lets out another exhale that sounds more like a sigh this time. “God, it’s getting a lot colder these days. Might have to start running the heater.”

You blink up at him with no commentary to add. 

He looks down at you. His face is relaxed, but you can tell those eyes are distracted. A shimmering blue ocean in its own world while he attempts to stay present in this one. 

He holds his hand out to you, and you stare at it blankly like you’ve got no clue what he intends for you to do with it. But you finally take the hint and curl your hand around his palm so that he can pull you up onto your feet too.

You stumble a little, falling forward from the sudden blood flow to your brain, but he holds you steady by the strong grip of his hands on your elbows. He’s close to you, close enough to where you can smell the faint lingering scent of his cologne. Something different than that expensive one he wore to the courthouse, but it’s comforting somehow. A fragrance that’s more him. And you feel nervous as you look up at him underneath pale moonlight. 

He lets go of your elbows. You feel cold from the loss of his touch. But his right hand moves to gently hold your left hand in his palm, holding it curled as his thumb barely grazes the stone you wear on your ring finger; the one he gave you.

The way his thumb prods at the silver band is like he’s inspecting its quality, as if it has to pass some test to be worthy of sitting on your finger. Or maybe just any finger, if you were to quell the delusion. You’re not sure if he’s satisfied with his inspection.

“Where did you get it—” you blurt out.

His gaze flickers up to your face briefly before he’s back to examining the ring. “It was my mom’s.”

Your mouth gapes slightly in shock, heart dropping a little in your chest, and all of a sudden you feel guilty. Guilty that he put his mother’s ring on your finger for something that was fake, something that was essentially a business deal, something exchanged to you out of fraud when it was a precious family heirloom that should be exchanged with love. And maybe he didn’t care about it much, some people don’t care about the sentiments of objects. But your mind thinks of the oaky vintage dresser in his room, so out of place in the aesthetic of its surroundings, a decision you can only imagine him of all people, mr. “everything in this house has to look like an IKEA catalog”, would do if the dresser held some importance to him that was more than meets the eye. And so you’re compelled to think that maybe this ring did, too. 

“Why would you give me this?! You could’ve just gotten a cheap fake diamond ring from a pawn shop and called it a day,” you ask him, suddenly feeling burdened by it.

“Well I wasn’t exactly given much time to think of other options.”

“But—” you start, only to realize you have no counter arguments for that.

He lets out a huh noise, like the sound someone makes when they’re pleasantly surprised by something, as he looks down at your hand that he still held in his. “It’s kinda crazy that it fits you perfectly. I wasn’t sure.”

Your mind wanders to when he slipped the ring onto your finger in the courtroom, followed by the kiss. Soft, sweet, the lingering warm sensation of his palm on your cheek as he cupped your face, the same way those heartthrob actors do in all those romance movies and kdramas that you watch on Friday nights while snuggled up in a blanket, wondering when anyone will ever kiss you like that. You remember the ghost sensation of his hand hovering over the small of your back, fingers lightly grazing the nape of your neck, his frame blocking out everything around you as he kissed you, just to pull away and for the two of you to then pretend like it never happened, as if it wasn’t one of the sweetest kisses you’ve ever known.

You slowly pull your hand out of his, the moment feeling too tender for your liking, and you clear your throat before flitting your eyes up to his. 

“Rule #1,” you remind him with a soft whisper, “no touching.”

You purse your lips, watching his round eyes blink once, then twice, before he shoves his hands in his suit pockets. He rocks back and forth on his heels for a few seconds, nodding slowly in submission, and then he turns on them to head back to the house. You’re standing a little stunned from the abrupt ending to this trance of a moment on the roof, and you’re also a little surprised with how your chest is heaving a little bit with fast breaths, but you eventually snap out of it to follow him inside too. 

You two make it back inside the house, with little words exchanged. You pretend to not notice the way Gojo tilts his head at his desk, like he’s confused about why it looks tidier than when he left it. You’re prepared to feign innocence or ignorance, but he doesn’t press you about it. 

“Y’know,” he says from behind you, his chest briefly brushing against the back of your head as he pushes the bedroom door in front of you open so that you can head out into the loft, “those oversized 1800s-esque nightgowns you’ve been wearing around the house kinda make you look like a less-hot version of Ebenezer Scrooge.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

•┈┈┈••✦☽✦••┈┈┈•

“Sign right here for me, sir.”

You watch as the nurse slides the papers across the high-raised counter of the hospice nursing desk towards Gojo, his eyebrows narrowing as his eyes skim the words on the paper and land at the highlighted lines where he’s been intended to sign. You feel nervous for some reason, as if he’d suddenly find something disagreeable and refuse to sign, then take you to the courthouse first thing to finalize a divorce and send you off to prison while claiming he was blackmailed into the whole marriage in the first place.

Instead, he pulls a pen from the chest pocket of his suit jacket, clicking the end of it and scribbling his signature onto the paper with some jet black ink that looks like it takes a second to dry. How pretentious of him. The pink pom-pom pen was right there.

The nurse behind the counter continues to chat with him about something, blah blah dependents, blah blah tax claims, blah blah you’ll receive an itemized bill in the mail. You’re trying your best to eavesdrop in on the conversation, but most of your senses are being occupied by examining all your surroundings. When you dropped your mother off at the hospice, your feelings were at the forefront of conscience, but now that you’ve had a couple days to come down from that overwhelming emotional high, you’re here to scope out the quality of this place you’ve just dumped your mom at.

The facility is clean and sleek, with a color theme of red and an ocean blue across the signs, the furniture, even with the paperwork they hand out. All the workers had color-coded scrubs based on their occupation or specialty, and none of them had stains on the fabric. You take a glance down at the modest leather pumps you were wearing past the creases of the long skirt, and notice that the floor was shimmering off their reflection in a perfect polish. It wasn’t bad, this place.

“Thanks, you too,” you hear Gojo say to the nurse behind the counter. He has a professional smile on his face, but still kind and genuine, which makes the woman at the computer something bashful and unable to make eye contact. He folds something that looks like a receipt into his chest pocket before tucking his pen back in there too and then turns to face you. You make a mental note to pay him back for whatever he just paid for, at least once you move some money around. 

Your eyebrows lift, feeling a little dazed as you blink at him blankly.

“Alright,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets, the sound of his shoes on the polished hospital floors satisfactorily tapping in your ears as he took a couple steps towards you, “where’s your mom’s room?”

“Huh?”

“What’s her room number?” he asks you.

“Y-You wanna go see her??”

“Of course I want to,” he says, “she’s my mother-in-law.”

You roll your eyes and pet the fabric of your skirt to smooth the wrinkles out. “You’re getting a little too invested in this role of fake husband.”

“I get to annoy you all day and ride the adrenaline rush of committing a federal crime,” he says, “of fucking course I’d get invested.”

You sigh, tossing some of your hair to behind your shoulder before glancing up at the signs, squinting slightly to locate the ward where your mother’s room is, before you hear an extremely high-pitched and somewhat catty feminine voice call out from behind you. You glance at Gojo’s face as he peers off to whoever’s behind you, and you see him visibly stiffen a little.

“Is that Dayton county’s sexiest realtooorrr???” the voice purrs, and you turn on your heel to see a blonde bombshell of a woman clacking her kitten heels down the glistening floors of the hospice, with another brunette bombshell just a few paces behind her. Bombshell #2 sighs something like “it issss” before they walk right up to your fake husband and take turns at giving him a playful squeeze of his bicep. You have to physically stop your jaw from dropping at the sight. 

“Wow! Ladies, so–...so great to see you two,” he says out of polite obligation, and you immediately clock the fact that he doesn’t address them by name.

Bombshell #1 turns to look at you, all of her hair moving as one solid entity with the motion from all the hair spray that’s probably holding it up, and she points at you with a long slender finger that narrows into a french-tip. “Oh who’s this?? Another one of your clients??”

“Oh, no, she’s my–”

“I’m his wife,” you interrupt him, irritated for some reason. 

Both the women chirp something out like oh! before their faces twist with confusion. 

“I didn’t know you were married,” Bombshell #2 says in a thick New Jersey accent.

Gojo lifts his left hand up, the silver band on his hand glimmering under fluorescent hospice lighting. “Very happily,” he says, as if someone was holding a gun to his head.

Bombshell #1 crosses her arms, and you try not to stare at how nice her boobs look in the low scoop-neck jaguar print top she was wearing. You were no better than a man. And now you’re pissed off at the idea of Gojo glancing down too, but a flick of your gaze up to his face tells you he’s safe. For now. 

“You weren’t married when I asked you if you were a month ago,” Bombshell #1 sneers at him. It’s true, the math wouldn’t make sense, but in his defense, this marriage was a fraud.

“Or when you took me out for dinner last week after I bought my house,” Bombshell #2 snarls with an undertone of hurt. 

Gojo clears his throat beside you before pointing at Bombshell #2. “How is that, by the way?” he asks in an attempt to change the subject, “the half acre down on Maple Ave, right? You, uh, enjoying the pool?”

The woman let out an offended scoff and–were her eyes sheening with tears?? She puts her hands on her hips. “No. Mine is the three bedroom house with the cedar gazebo on 14th street.”

Her friend next to her rolls her eyes and smacks her gum between her cheek. “I’m the one that bought the half acre down on Maple Ave, jerk. Ugh!” She grabs her friend’s arm with a high-pitched hmph noise leaving her throat, and you can hear the other one sniffling subtly as she wobbles on her heels with her friend’s pull of her arm. 

Right before leaving the two of you alone, Bombshell #1 turns to you and says, “I hope you find someone who treats you better,” and then they storm off together down the hallway, their perfectly blow-dried hair bouncing in sync with each stomp.

You blink at the sight, a little flabbergasted from the interaction, and then flit your faze up to Gojo. You see him awkwardly scratching at the back of his head with a grimace on his stupidly handsome face. 

“That’s what you get for being a manwhore,” you tell him.

“I’m not a manwhor–”

“You went on a date with another woman while you were maaaaarrrieeeddd?!” you coo as you let out a fake gasp and slap your cheeks with your hands, “despicable, really.”

He lets out some disgruntled noise, the source coming from deep within his throat. “No. We weren’t fake-married yet,” he vindicates himself, “and it wasn’t a date. I just bought her dinner as a congrats for buying a house. Not a big deal. I do it for all my clients.”

“Satoru. You do realize you’re leading these women on, right? I mean, I’ve seen the way you talk to them. Even if you think you’re just being friendly, please know that your definition of friendly is most people’s definition of flirting.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s true.”

He raises an eyebrow as he glances down at you. “Alright, how come this flirting in disguise of friendliness hasn’t worked on you then?”

You scoff in disbelief before crossing your arms. Maybe you did deserve a better fake husband. “You’re never friendly with me. You’re always rude to me.”

“What? I’m not always rude to you.”

“Well, you’re certainly much more rude to me than you are to other women,” you say, tapping the tip of your shoe with irritation.

“Can we not do this right now? We’re in the middle of a hospice.” 

“God, you’re such a cop-out,” you mumble as you forcefully push past him towards the hallway that’ll lead you to your mother. You can hear that Gojo’s on your tail, following you down one of the more dimly lit hallways, and you can tell he needs to stall the strides of his Daddy Longlegs to not overtake your pace.

“What the fuck is a cop-out?” he asks you from behind.

“Look it up on urban dictionary, Grandpa. Unless you don’t know what the Internet is, either,” you spat. 

You waltz right up to your mother’s room just in time to see a nurse making her way out with a clipboard in her hands. She glances over to you when she sees you approaching in her periphery.

“Hi! How can I help you?” she asks.

“Is it alright if we visit my mother?” you ask her.

“Oh! Sure, let me just clean her bed pan really quick.”

Your brow furrows. “B-Bedpan?? Why is she using a bedpan??”

The nurse stops in her movements. “Well, yesterday and today, that’s just what she has decided to use.”

You immediately become hostile. “That’s not right. She never needed to use one at home. Why is she suddenly using one here? Is that not a clear sign of deterioration? The restrooms must not be kept well enough here if she doesn’t want to use them.”

The nurse becomes something meek, her eyes widening as her mouth gapes slightly. “Ma’am,” she squeaks out, “we see this commonly with patients as they begin to adjust to hospice life. We’ll urge her to use the restroom, but as of right now, we need to prioritize what she finds most comfortable.”

Your expression softens, your shoulders relaxing from their tense position, and you duck your head a little with guilt. “Right…I’m sorry.”

The nurse presses her lips together with a well-meaning smile before shuffling into the room and closing the door behind her. You sigh and lean your back against the wall next to the number plate, cheeks flushing slightly from the confrontation. You have no idea how loud your voice was or who heard you. But you try to convince yourself that you’re just stressed and trying to look out for your mother, although the guilt still sits.

You glance up to see Gojo staring at you with slightly wide eyes, his hands shoved into his pockets, and he tilts his head to study your expression.

“What?” you snap at him.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Just fine, thanks.”

“Are you sure?”

“Satoru,” you cut his questioning off by raising a palm into the air, “just—…just stop.”

His brow furrows together slightly, but before he can show any further concern, the nurse exits the room and holds the door open for the two of you. 

“All set!” she chirps, and Gojo moves to hold the door open in her stead, and then the nurse bolts down to disappear somewhere down the hallway.

You hear Gojo let out a small huff of a scoff as he stares down in the direction the nurse ran off in. “Glad to know I’m not the only one that’s scared of you.”

You roll your eyes and walk into the room through the open door.

Your mother lays in her bed, looking out the window with her hands resting on top of layers of white linen sheets, her skin looking slightly paler than usual. You approach her bedside slowly and she finally turns her head to look at you.

“Hi mom,” you gently greet her, sitting down on the stool beside her bed, “how are you doing?”

Her eyes dart across the features of your face, and you briefly glance towards the wall to the right where you see Gojo standing from a slight distance.

“Oh, hi dear,” she says with a smile, and relief washes over you.

You match her smile with your own. “Mom, I brought someone here to see you.” You glance over at Gojo, who starts to close distance now as he approaches the foot of the bed, “this is Satoru, my husband.”

Your mother’s eyes widen, “Oh! I know him,” she scoldingly swats a hand at you, like you’ve embarrassed her somehow by assuming that she doesn’t know who he is, “he’s my neighbor!”

You sigh, “yes mom, the one that fixed the A/C?” You attempt to finish her sentence for her.

She looks confused for a moment, but slightly nods as if to avoid any further confusion for herself. “But—…but, why…” she trails off and then looks at you, “I’m sorry, are you my nurse?”

Your shoulders drop slightly. “No, mom, it’s me. Your daughter. Do you remember?”

Her face scrunches before it entirely relaxes to keep some image of composure despite the haze you know she feels in her head. “Oh…yes, yes…my little girl. I remember you, of course!”

Your eyes become layered with a slight sheen of tears, “I’m glad.”

“Where’s your father?” she asks, “he said he’d bring me some…oh dear, what—…he said he’d bring me tea. I’ve been waiting.”

“Mom, dad is—” you pause for a moment to think on your feet. You could either tell the truth, or a little white lie. You never know what to do. And either one comes with either guilt or sorrow. “Well, he’ll be here soon, I just wanted to come see you.”

“Oh okay…” she trails off, her eyes squinting at you once more with that same look of confusion on it, but then they drift towards Gojo. “Oh you’re a very handsome young man! You look just like my neighbor.”

Your eyes flicker up to Gojo, and he walks up to your side by your mom’s bed. “Yes, Mrs. l/n, I am your neighbor.”

“With the lemon tree!”

“The avocado tree,” you correct her with a small sigh. “And he’s my husband mom. And also our neighbor.”

“Oh I see I see…” she says, looking up at him, and in a moment that shocks you, she holds her hand up for him to take.

There’s a slight moment of surprise on his face too, but he accepts her frail hand in his, and you glance over to your mom to see her look at him with some look of peace on her face.

“Oh, sit down here, won’t you?” she tells him, and you both blink at her in a moment of hesitation.

He pulls a stool up to the side of the bed right next to you and takes a seat down onto it. Your mother holds his hand with both of hers now, soothing her palm over the back of it before she taps on it lightly.

“Oh, my little girl is very sweet. She would bring me flowers from the garden when she was,” she glances at you, confused once more, “well I remember her when she was so little but she looks…a little older now. Ah, but she would bring me such pretty flowers.”

Your heart aches in your chest. You never knew what version of you your mother would remember. Some days, you’re still supposed to be an angsty teenager that shuts doors in her face, some days you were just as you are right now, and other days, you were just her little girl. And it confused her, the image of not seeing you in the way that she remembers. In the only way she knew how.

“You’ll take good care of my sweet girl, won’t you?” she asks him.

And it knocks the wind out of you.

It drops your heart to the center of the earth.

The thought that, after so many moments where she doesn’t remember you, she still knows that you’re someone she wants to keep safe.

Your mouth gapes slightly, tears welling in your eyes and you try your best to blink them away, but you see Gojo’s hand slip out from being held by your mother’s hands, to instead use both of his to hold hers. Your eyes snap to his face, and you see that same earnest expression you’ve been growing used to seeing these days. 

“Yes,” he responds, eye contact level with hers, “I will.”

A small puff of air leaves your lips, a single tear streaming down your cheek and you quickly swipe your trembling fingers to remove any evidence of it before you huff out a shaky, “excuse me.” And then you’re standing up off the stool, and in a few hurried steps across the room as more tears continue to stream down your face, you make it to the door to push out into the suffocating air of the hallway.

It’s hard to breathe, huffs and puffs barely leaving your lips as you struggle to pull air into your lungs while you storm down the hallway at a fast pace, your heels clicking underneath you in a way that only sets you off further. Suddenly, all the sounds around you make you sick to your stomach, a wave of nausea washing over you, and your nose burns with the intensity of the tears that continue to stream down your face. A few hospice staff look at you with concerned expressions, and you eventually reach a heavy-duty door that leads you out into a secluded staircase hallway where the dim lighting serves to relax at least some of your senses, but you still feel like you’re about to pass out.

Even in the haze of your emotions, there’s this glimmer of a memory that comes to mind. One from when you were younger and you were pushed on the playground at school. You cried and cried and cried in your mother’s arms, but even then, you didn’t want her to baby you. You would say to her, I’m a big girl now! in that same way a child knows nothing of what it truly means to brave the world. 

That little girl had no idea that one day, there would be moments where she wouldn’t be remembered as her mother’s little girl anymore. 

No matter how old you grow, you will always be my little girl, your mother’s voice echoes to you, the feeling of her squeezing you in her arms as she holds your sobbing little form in hers casting a ghost sensation across your skin.

In a mother’s eyes, you’ll always be her baby.

And that’s why it hurts.

Because it’s all fake.

It’s phony.

It’s not real.

This arrangement you have with Gojo.

And if your mother were to die tomorrow, there would be no one to take care of her little girl anymore.

Not in the way she believes there will be.

Of all the white lies, this one pierces you straight through your heart in a way that leaves you gasping for air.

Amidst your whirlwind of thoughts, you hear the door push open harshly, and when you glance over, you see Gojo standing in this dimly lit hallway as he turns his head quickly to the left and sees you standing there.

“Hey,” he says, catching his breath as he lightly jogs up to you, “hey, hey, hey,” he repeats with more concern now when he sees the state you’re in, and he seamlessly pulls you into a hug, your cheek pressing against his chest that feels warm even through the fabric of his suit jacket and shirt, and that familiar scent of him completely engulfs you.

You sob quietly, wiping your snot on his tie and your tears on the felt fabric beside it, your hands balled into tiny fists at your chest, squeezed between the two of you. You feel him tuck your head under his chin and his arms wrap around you tighter. You don’t even realize it at first, but suddenly, it has become easier to breathe.

Then, you wail, and you cry, and you sob, because you don’t have the words to even explain how you feel, about not just this, but with everything, a buildup of everything that has been suffocating you in your life that just comes crashing down on you all at once.

“I know,” he says, his palm resting on the back of your head as he holds your face to his chest, his voice soothing in your ears while you sob until there’s nothing left to cry. “I know.”

You two stay like this for another minute or so as you come down from the cries, your remnant sniffling echoing in the hallway while you wipe more of your snot on his jacket. You make the first move to pull your face away from his chest, but he still keeps his arms wrapped around you when you look up at him.

With your gaze darting across his face, you take in the blue in his eyes. Eyes that are looking at you so softly it’s suddenly hard to breathe once more. And when those eyes flit to your lips, your mouth parts slightly as you two breathe in unison.

It’s possible that you could have dreamed the moment you saw him lean down slightly towards you, his eyes still set on your lips, but it didn’t matter because you’re pushing him away with strong fists before you can even register the thought in your head.

He lets go of you entirely, his eyes wide once more, and you glance down at your feet. 

A tender moment, just like on the roof, broken just because you can’t handle that—…that way, that intense way that he looks at you. New rule, no looking at me longingly like you want to kiss me. I won’t allow it.

“I want to go home,” you whisper, still examining your shoes. And you suddenly feel embarrassed that he had to see you this way. He’s supposed to be scared and intimidated by you, not holding you in his arms while you cry. 

He’s silent for a moment, but you can tell he’s searching for things to say. “You don’t want to say bye to your mom before we go?”

You swipe your palm against the wetness on your cheek. “No. I just want to go home.”

“y/n,” he tried to convince you.

You finally look up at him. “Please.”

He breathes in a few breaths as he studies the features of your face in a way that makes you feel so seen that it’s frightening. But he slowly nods, then says,

“Okay.”

.

.

.

.

.

[end of chapter 4]

a/n. hi friendsss i hope you enjoyed :'') yea like i said at the a/n in the beginning, this chapter is a slight off-tangent from last chapter, but ch5 will continue with a lot of the stuffs that were brought up in ch3. but yea i wanted to explore the whole process of emotions reader would go through putting her mom in hospice, since it kinda felt like a big thing, hence why it got its own chapter. aaa i hope to see you in the next one!! much love from me :''0

➸ take me to chapter five!

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[mooneggtarts]

Something something Radioapple Reincarnation AU... I told you I love reincarnation tropes right?... did I..???? Anyways expect more cause I have a lot of ideas for this 💥💥

Here some closeup of the comics

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x reader (fem) | quirkless!reader, prohero!dynamight, arranged marriage au.

a.n; fare warning, THIS IS A MONSTER<3 lol

Fuckin' Marry Me Series | First Part | Second Part |

The gentle sound of the scribble your pen makes over the paper, right where it requires your formal signature, is heard louder than you expected in that tense silence. Well, it isn't a bad silence, but more like an anxious one. One that has Bakugou, who is sitting right next to you, literally shaking his right leg up and down continuously, even though you already told him you would do this.

And what does ‘this’ mean? It means you agreed to marry Bakugou-annoying ass-Katsuki. To help him finally be free from his own mother's clutches.

You had a hard time believing in the whole story he told you when he knocked on your door last Sunday morning –almost tearing down the door actually– after his father died. Even though you had agreed that same day, you asked him for a few days to clear your head a bit. He accepted, respecting your space even at work, which was weird.

A normal day at work always starts with a banter with this same man right at the entrance of the company and it follows until you enter the elevator. Everyone is already used to it, so they ignore both of you. It mostly ends when you have to get off on the floor where your office is, which is one under the one where all heroes keep their hero costumes and get changed. Of course, sometimes the banter would continue if you were assigned to work with Hero Dynamight through the earbuds that connected you at a distance.

That Monday morning though, was different. Weird for everyone who looked at both of you in shock. The moment you stood in front of the other right outside the company, everyone was waiting for it to happen, yet found themselves opening their eyes wide in surprise as you and Bakugou simply bowed slightly in hello and walked towards the building in complete silence. It followed inside the elevator, where he willingly stood next to you –you always stood on each side of it to avoid even accidentally touching. Nobody could believe their eyes. Especially when it was your moment to walk out on your floor and he said, “See ya’ around”, and you turned your head towards him and slightly smiled, murmuring a timidly, “You too. Take care outside.”

That day you weren't assigned to work with him, nor the two days after –in which these same actions and words were repeated by both of you every morning– yet you could feel the whispers and gossip around about this neutral ground between you two. Your boss even called you to his office to ask if everything was okay.

You internally laughed at the situation. It was so normal for you to fight with Bakugou that everyone found it weird and worrisome if you didn't. It was actually hilarious.

Wednesday shift had you entering the office at 5 p.m. and would have you leaving at almost 3 a.m. –if the hero assigned to you didn't get caught in a villain fight around that time. So when you were about to take the elevator and its door opened, you almost bumped into a freshly showered and already leaving Bakugou Katsuki.

“Oh, hey…”

“Hey,” he answered back. Both of you took a step out of the elevator, standing right in front of each other. One of his hands flew to the back of his head, scratching it and making small droplets of his still wet hair fall as he spoke, “I was, ummm, gonna talk to you today… but, umm, your shift…”

“Oh yeah, it's night shift today,” you nodded, hands holding the strap of your bag, trying to look casual and not let the nerves be shown. “Yours finished?”

“Yeah, tomorrow's night shift for me.”

“I know, I'm with you tomorrow,” you smiled.

His eyebrows pulled up, nodding in acceptance, “Cool.”

Yours frown, tilting your head a bit to the side, “Is it? Since when?” Now that you think about it, all that neutral ground between you two was very weird. New, but weird.

He rolled his eyes, hands hiding inside the pockets of his jacket.

“Since I'm trynna marry y–”

“Shhhh! Shut it, not here!” He smirked arrogantly. Ah, there's the comeback of the old annoying Bakugou.

“I–...”

“KATSUKI!” 

A screeching yell made the hairs of your arms stand in alert, completely unexpected for you. Yet for the man in front of you was a sound he was very familiar with. He grunted, his mood completely changing into anger as he turned around towards the yell.

“The fuck are you doing here, old hag?”

Oh. His mother.

You have seen her at a distance before, never actually got to meet her personally or even hear her voice –you were glad about that last particular fact though, she sounded awful.

You didn't miss to recognize the position Bakugou had you at the moment when he turned around and covered your small form behind his massive body from his mother to even acknowledge your presence there. You're grateful for his surprising and kind of sensitive tact. He's giving you an out from that, what you know for sure was going to be, a quite tense moment.

“I fucking told you, you need to hurry! I’m not fucking waiting for you any longer!” She yelled again, not caring at all about the place she was nor the people around in the lobby.

Bakugou looked to the side, taking a very deep breath before pinching his nose. His hand then hung loosely on the side of his body, but he kept opening and closing his hand in a fist. Oh wow, he was really holding himself back.

You didn't know what possessed you to do what you did or why, but you acted before thinking.

Your hand flew towards his, holding his trembling fist tightly. You knew it took him by surprise, but he hid it well by standing straighter, body still hiding you behind him. You knew for a fact that his face didn’t show any emotion other than anger, so nothing was amiss. His arm flexed behind him, bringing yours with his, as his hand opened and held yours tightly back.

This had been the very first time you willingly touched him. The first time you actually ever touched him at all. And your eyes couldn't leave the sight of his big hand fully surrounding yours, making you feel smaller than ever. I mean, you had eyes, he was a freaking hulk next to you. But the warm feeling of it enclosing yours securely made you feel safe, protected. It also felt calloused, a hand that was used every day to bring down bad guys and protect a whole nation, if not the world. Yet the warmth in it made your whole body tingle.

Fuck. What was this?

“I fuckin’ told you not to come in the first place,” he didn't need to yell, his voice sounded loud and clear even at the distance.

“HURRY THE FUCK UP!”

You tightened your hold on his hand, just to ground him in support. He sighed, returning the gesture to thank you before saying in his mother's direction, “I'm fuckin’ going, you pain in the ass”, and walked towards her, letting go of your hand.

His mother simply turned and walked in front of him outside of the building. She never realized you had been there the whole time.

The moment had been so stressful, and if that was what Bakugou had to deal with every day since he was born, damn. You actually felt sorry for him.

Thanks to the glass walls of the lobby you could watch the Bakugous walk towards the expensive car waiting for them outside. They were clearly shit-talking to each other the whole way, until before they got inside the car, his mother actually slapped the back of his head strongly. Twice.

A rising rage traveled up your body, hands closing in fists. What the fuck?! Who the fuck did she think she was? Why the hell did she need to fucking hit him like that, twice? Why the hell did she do it at all? Fuck, you were starting to believe in everything Bakugou told you about her.

“You get it now, don't you?” Izuku's voice from behind you made you jump a bit in surprise.

You cleared your throat, looking elsewhere and breathing deeply, trying to clear your head. 

“I don't–”

Izuku's hand raised, making you go silent. “Before you come up with a clever excuse, let me remind you that Kacchan and I have been friends since diapers… and we talk to each other.”

His eyeing made you gulp, but his words were clear enough, “You know then.”

He nodded, hand detaining the elevator’s doors so you both could enter, him after you. “He came to my apartment right after and told me all that happened. I was at the funeral too.”

He didn't need to explain anymore, it was more than clear he was talking about last Sunday when Bakugou asked you to marry him. You knew his father had died sometime Saturday afternoon and that the funeral was held that same night. Bakugou had come to your apartment right after his father had been cremated.

“I know you two fight like cats and dogs all the time, but he's not that bad once you give him a chance. And by what you just saw, I know you understand now why he's always on the defensive.”

You sigh. Damn it, you do. Growing up in an environment like that made you think it was actually a miracle Bakugou turned out the way he did.

“I also know that you agreed to marry him to help him be finally free from his mother,” he confirmed out loud once the doors of the elevator closed and it was just the two of you in there.

“Any advice?”

He chuckled, turning his whole body and looking directly at you, “Be open-minded. Kacchan's mouth sometimes opens before he thinks and his words don't mean what he actually intended, but his actions speak louder than anything.”

You rolled your eyes. Ugh, you were feeling the stress already.

The elevator signaled that you had arrived at your floor, so you sighed, nodding in his way as an answer and walking outside. But before the doors closed, Izuku held them for a bit longer to talk again.

“Also… Be smarter.”

“Than him?” You asked confused.

“Than her.”

And with that, he let the doors close, a smile plastered on his face that told on all the mischief his eyes shined with.

This little… cheeky bastard.

The audacity.

You made a mental note to punch Izuku the next time you bumped into him. On purpose.

Throughout the rest of the day, you couldn't get that image of Bakugou being abused by his own mother out of your head. Because yes, it was fucking abuse. And in fucking public! How many times had this happened already? And why the fuck no one had ever said or done anything against it? Even when he was a kid?!

It was outrageous.

And the fact that Bakugou held himself back, because you knew he did, not only because she was his mother but also because she was a woman –and you could bet she fucking used that at her advantage– only spoke about the kind of man he was.

Bakugou Katsuki is a good man.

You took your cell phone out and searched for his contact number, your fingers flying over the keyboard.

You: Make the appointment for this Friday.

His reply didn't take long.

Bakugou K.: Done.

You took a deep breath. The decision was made. And you were not going to back out from it. Or so you hoped.

Another notification made your phone ring and it was another text message.

Bakugou K.: Thank you.

The beginning of a smile threatened to break out from your mouth as you re-read that message several times. Until the loud pip-ing that alerted a villain attack completely distracted you, or more like, brought you back to reality.

The rest of the days went faster than you expected.

The shift on Wednesday ended on time, miraculously. So at exactly 3 a.m. you were turning off your computer and putting your stuff back in your bag. You had several notifications on your phone but didn't feel like giving them your attention at that moment, choosing to concentrate on clearing your space and going back home. You let out several yawns when you got inside the elevator, holding yourself on the handrail, sleep having you on the verge of passing out tired of the stressful days. For some reason, villains chose that week to be more active than usual, which demanded more of your focus and being in constant alert mode.

When the doors finally opened on the lobby floor, you walked towards the check-in clock to mark the end of your shift. You bowed goodbye to the receptionist and walked towards the entrance of the company. For a moment, you entertained your mind with the idea of taking a taxi to get home faster. But damn it, that was expensive, and you were not going to waste money like that. And even if you wanted to, you couldn't.

You sighed, covering your neck as best as you could with your coat once you crossed the doors, and began your walk in the direction you needed to go. It was a very chilly night, but because it was Spring, you didn't expect such cold weather.

You were thinking about how you'd have to resist this coldness until you got home when you looked up and recognized Bakugou's obviously expensive car and him resting against it, arms crossed over his chest.

“What are you doing here?”

“You didn't check your messages, short-legs?”

You denied, head shaking, “I finished the shift and packed everything. Wanted to leave as soon as possible…”

He snorted, shaking his head, “Get in. I'll take you home.”

“Oh, it's okay. I can walk…”

He frowned, “The fuck you think I would be here for then? Get in the car, dumbass.”

“Geez. Okay! No need to get grumpy, asshole.”

You rounded his car towards the passenger seat and climbed in. He followed and got on the driver's side.

The inside was warm, as the heater had been on. You smiled gladly, rubbing your freezing-cold hands to warm them up faster.

“Can't believe you were planning to walk home. Are you stupid?”

You opened your mouth, ready to fire back, but Izuku's words invaded your mind.

“…Kacchan's mouth sometimes opens before he thinks and his words don't mean what he actually intended, but his actions speak louder than anything…”

You thought for a moment, and it was actually easier than you thought to figure it out. Bakugou wasn't actually trying to insult you. He was worried that you would walk home that early in the morning, when the sun wasn't even out yet, in that weather.

Oh. That changed the perspective entirely.

“Yeah, actually,” you chuckled, hands still rubbing to heat them up. “I can't afford a taxi, and the subway isn't open yet.”

He turned on the car, but his attention was on you, “What you mean you can't afford a stupid taxi? Isn't your pay–…”

You denied, body relaxing a bit over the seat thanks to the warmth as he drove smoothly. You liked warm things. Spring was your favorite season because of it.

“Contrary to common belief, Quirk & Training Specialists don't gain much.”

“What?! Why? I mean… Most of the time is thanks to your area that we heroes are fuckin’ alive.”

“Awww. Thank you for admitting it! Now, would you admit that publicly?”

“Of fuckin’ course I would!”

You smiled, “Well, you would be the first one. Tell me, do you think other heroes would willingly admit that their wins sometimes belong to a ghost that tells them what to do or where to go through their earbuds?”

Your words made him close his mouth. Aha. Touché.

You chuckled, “It's okay, Bakugou. It's my job.”

“Now that I think about it, your name is nowhere to be seen in my reports. It's not even fuckin’ mentioned as a sidekick or something.”

“That's because I'm not a sidekick. I'm just a quirkless person who is observant enough to point you the best way to go. I'm not that important…”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You looked at him, trying to decipher what he meant. He didn't mean to insult you, what he was trying to say is, “don't say that about yourself”.

Wow. Izuku was so right about that advice. You made a mental note to thank him the next time you saw him. After punching him, of course.

The rest of the car ride was silent. But not uncomfortable. The gentle sound of the heater turned on was relaxing enough to even doze you a bit, warm and content.

Bakugou didn't speak until he parked right in front of your apartment building. You immediately noticed you had probably slept the rest of the way.

“I'm sorry, I think I fell asleep.”

“You think?” He chuckled, face looking your way. You snorted back, finding his teasing funny. His crooked smile made tingles run up your arms. Or was it the heater? Yes, that probably was it, the heater.

You cleared your throat and looked down at your seat belt and untied it –wait. You didn't remember putting it on. Did he… Did he put it on you when you fell asleep? Oh, my. You gulped, feeling the tingles run all over your body again. Fuck. You needed to leave that small space you shared with this man, like… now.

But before you did, you looked back at him one more time.

“Thank you… for driving me home,” you pulled a rebellious strand of hair behind your ear and smiled. You were indeed grateful that you actually didn't have to freeze on your way home, so you bowed slightly too.

You were about to open the door when he spoke.

“Wait,” you turned back at him and watched curiously as he opened the compartment, taking out a small folder.

He pushed it in your direction and looked expectantly at you. You took it, a bit doubtful, not quite understanding what it meant.

“I said I would sign a contract if that's what you wanted. It's just a draft, but I put some items in there that I want you to check. You can add some yourself. And if we both agree, we can sign it.”

Oh. “Oh, okay… I'll check it out and let you know.”

He nodded in response and you finally got out of the car and ran through the shocking cold towards your building. Inside the elevator, you pressed the folder over your chest. This felt way more real than what you felt earlier when you made the final decision and texted him.

But something tasted a bit… bitter. Was this something you had to do on your own? Like, the marriage was between the both of you. And while it wasn’t one out of a loving relationship, it was still something that included both. This contract thing felt like something you needed to sit down and review together.

You decided then.

Your hand searched for your phone in your bag, and ignoring all the notifications, you directly made the call.

Not one ring later, he picked up the call.

“Are you o–...”

“Did you leave?” You interrupted him before he could say anything else.

“No, I'm still down here.”

“Umm, are you tired? Cause if you are we can definitely leave it for tomorrow, or better said later, but I slept through the car ride so I'm not that tired anymore, but if you think–”

“Cut the fuckin’ rambling. Go to the point, short-legs.”

You sighed, fingers sliding through your hair and pulling it back. “If you want, he can revise this now. I think it's better if we do it together.”

You heard the intake of a deep breath, a relieved one, before he said, “Yeah… Okay. I'm on my way up.” The sound of the car's door closing confirmed he was on his way.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” He repeated and then ended the call.

It took you both three hours and just one heated discussion to come to terms with each of the items. Both satisfied with the consensual agreements, you brought out your laptop and rewrote it. You printed two copies, one for each, that you both signed. That's how the contract was ready and done. Now the next and final step would be the marriage in front of a judge. That Friday. In one day.

“We need two witnesses,” you reminded him, to which he grunted.

“Right, I forgot about that.”

“Well, we already know who you are picking…”

He pulled up an eyebrow, looking in your direction, “Huh? And who am I picking, know-it-all?”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless, “Izuku.”

He tched, not admitting it out loud, but it was obvious you were right.

You chose to let it be and not cause any banter, mostly because you definitely felt more tired than a few hours back.

“Smart-ass. Then who are you picking, mmh?”

You shrugged, “I don't know. I was thinking Mina,” his groan made you chuckle, “but I think Jirou would keep a low profile better.”

“Yeah, good thinking.” You nodded in agreement. You loved Mina, and you knew he did too, but she couldn't keep things down sometimes. And one of the items was to keep a low profile throughout the whole marriage thing. Bakugou hated the press and paparazzi, and you weren't a fan of them either. Even though you had never been the center of attention of them, you actually preferred to keep it that way. On the low and as invisible as possible.

Thursday went very quiet and chill, which was very surprising considering it was Dynamight's shift. Sometimes, villains made you think they had a particular masochistic side and loved appearing whenever Pro Hero Dynamight was around. Some of them even loved to provoke him on purpose so he would yell all those obscenities towards them. And they enjoyed it. Freaks.

But not that Thursday. It had been a very peaceful one. It even found you chatting with Bakugou through the earbuds.

“So what now, ya’ gonna fuckin’ tell me Endeavor is better than All Might?”

“Oh, shut up, you All Might-obsessed-freak! I will admit All Might was huge, but you can't deny Endeavor stood his ground and made big stuff too.”

“Like fuckin’ what?”

“The fight with the nomu–”

“HA! Please! That was child's play. All Might took down AFO.”

“Yeah. But it was Deku who won against him in the end, not him. And All Might only fought twice against AFO. Endeavor killed a powerful nomu.”

“You are so fuckin’ blind!”

“You are the blind one!”

“How could you say Endeavor is better than All Might?!”

“I did not say that!”

“Wait– then what did y–?”

“I just said, Endeavor was N° 1 too. He was a Hero too. He deserves a bit of recognition.”

You could hear Bakugou’s snort, “So you like them complicated and misunderstood…”

Bakugou’s malice in his teasing was palpable, yet you always had an answer for him.

“Well… What does that say about you?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up!”

If you had been paying attention to your surroundings, you would have noticed all your co-workers smiling at your cute banter with Bakugou. Yet you were so invested in it, you didn't notice.

Conversations that also led to getting to know each other a little bit more also happened.

“I like orange. You?”

The question took you by surprise after almost half an hour of silence from both ends. Yet, it didn't surprise you at all his preference in color. It was kind of obvious.

“Figures. It doesn't surprise me at all–”

“What the fuck does that mean?!”

“Mine is purple.”

“Why?”

“Ummm, I don't know. I always pictured that if I had become a Hero, my costume would be purple. I decided that even before I knew if I had a Quirk or not.”

You had said it in a conversational tone, never intended to make him feel some type of way. Yet, he still asked, “And is still your favorite, even after–”

“–after I found out I am quirkless? Yes. Why wouldn't it be?”

“Mmmh,” was his simple answer.

The shift ended peacefully and on time, which both of you were grateful for, considering what the following day was.

When the shift was over, you waited a considerate couple of minutes. Minutes it would take the heroes to come back from their shift to the company. Then, you got inside the elevator but instead of going down, you went one floor up.

Your phone rang with a notification.

Bakugou K.: You asked her yet?

You rolled your eyes. So impatient.

You: No, I'm about to. I'm on your floor.

Bakugou K.: Slow ass.

You still wanted to punch him, sometimes.

You put your phone back inside your bag as you walked towards the girls’ wing of the floor, completely avoiding even looking at the boys' wing way. You knocked two times before Ochako opened the door slightly to look who it was.

“Oh, hi, Y/N!”

“Y/N!”

“Hi!”

“Hello, Y/N.”

“HI BABY!!” 

All the girls present that shift greeted you cheerfully, especially Mina. You greeted back while entering the room and closing the door behind you.

You chatted with all of them here and there as they got changed, not an ounce of shyness between all of you. You were friends with almost all of them, having already worked with the majority of the girls and hung out with them many times. You knew almost all about them. Their sleep faces, their ugly cries, their drunk personalities. All of it. And they knew you too. That's why you didn't need to be subtle at all when you said, “I actually need to speak with Jirou for a moment”. Everyone understood and took it nicely as they hurried a bit their way into their clothes and grabbed their stuff before leaving you two alone. 

All of them knew you and Jirou had a special friendship, a close one. She was the one you always went to when you really needed to confide in someone with something deep within you. The same thing was for Jirou. You were actually the first one of all to know when Denki confessed his feelings to her, and even talked her through her own ‘secret’ feelings for him.

“What's up, buddy?” She straddled one of the benches and sat, patting the place in front of her for you to follow.

You sat in front of her crossing your legs under you, your bag actually forgotten on the floor down the bench.

“I'm going to tell you something, but I need you to keep an open mind and listen to it all before you say anything.”

She jerked her head back a bit, already feeling confused, “You're scaring me already.”

“You have no idea…” You sighed and began the tell-tale.

Her eyes kept opening wider and wider with each thing you told her about what had been happening with you and Bakugou these last days.

What it felt like probably an hour later, you finished with, “So, that's why… we are going to get married tomorrow.”

Jirou fastly stood up, almost jumping a few steps back, and pointed a finger at you.

“That's it! That's why you have been so civil to each other! I knew something was up with– WAIT,” oh yeah, you thought she hadn't quite listened to what you just said. But then it came, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! Y/N!! YOU'RE FUCKING JOKING.”

You shook your head, “No, I'm not.” The calmness and firm tone in which you answered made her sidetrack tons in her own reaction, as she sat back down in front of you and took your hands in hers.

“Honey, it isn't your obligation to do any of this. You know that, right?”

You smiled, the clear worry in Jirou's eyes warming your little heart. You had such a good friend.

“I do. But I want to do this. For him.” You were sincere, and you knew Jirou could see it in your eyes too.

“Even though you don’t like each other??”

“Even though we don’t like each other.”

You repeated, but your tone was decisive. Jirou looked at you silently for a moment, then sighed and nodded.

“Okay… Whatever you choose, I'm here for and with you.” Your arms immediately surrounded her neck in a hug. She returned it gladly, patting your back in reassurance. “And if he hurts you, just tell me. I'll make him pay.”

You laughed amusingly. “I know you will. But this isn't the only thing I'm here for.”

She groaned, “There's more?! I don't know how much my heart can take...”

“Well, will it survive if I ask you to be my witness tomorrow?”

Jirou's eyes filled with tears before it was her turn to surround your neck in a tight hug.

“I'll take that as a yes,” you both giggled, hugging each other tight.

Twenty minutes later you were both leaving the building of the company and you walked her towards the motorcycle parking lot where she had hers.

“I'll text you the location in the morning.”

“Alright, I can't wait for it!” She said excitedly, but then, she looked more intently at you. “I just want to say, this thing you're doing is beyond heroic. You're literally being a Hero right now.”

Her words touched something inside you that made you want to cry like a baby. Something so deep it made you feel like floating away with the harsh galloping your heart made against your chest. It didn't make sense, yet it actually did.

You gulped looking down at your feet, strongly holding back the cry that threatened to be released right in your throat.

“You need a ride back home?” She asked, completely ignoring –for your sake and out of respect– your glassy eyes.

“I'll take her home,” Bakugou's voice in the distance surprised both of you, yet you had been expecting something like this to happen. Something told you he would be waiting you after his shift.

Jirou looked at you waiting for your approval, and when you nodded, she put on her helmet and turned on her bike. You walked towards where Bakugou was standing with Jirou riding next to you, and when she was next to him, she said, “You better take care of my friend, or I'll come for your ass, don't care you're my friend too.”

Bakugou snorted, “I know you will, Ears.” He smiled, pulling down her face shield to annoy her. She punched him friendly on the shoulder before waving and driving away.

“She said yes then.”

You both began walking towards what you thought he had parked his car. “Yep. What did Izuku say?”

He rolled his eyes, “You know he said yes.”

You smiled, “I know, I was just being friendly and asked.”

“Smart-ass.”

“I am really going to punch you again, don't tempt me.”

“Yeah… If that one punch could be considered a punch, it would be ‘again’.”

“Oh, so you do want me to…”

You tried to reach his shoulder, but this time he was fast enough to dodge it expertly. “You really are slow, huh?” He mocked walking backwards and smirking.

“You want slow, asshole…”

He laughed, turning around and running away as you ran towards him trying to catch him.

He was a stupidly fast idiot.

So now, it is Friday, and you sit right next to Bakugou Katsuki. Both of you are in front of a judge who is officially marrying you. Jirou sits on your left, while Izuku sits on Bakugou's right. And you have just finished writing your signature where the bride's one goes. Bakugou has already signed his. It isn't until you put the pen down on the table that Bakugou stops bouncing his leg and breathes in deep.

You want to laugh, finding his nerves quite funny. But you get it. This means more than just marriage to him.

It's freedom.

And you can't even imagine how nerve-racking that must feel for him. After all these years that he had to follow his mother's command and will just so he could follow his own dream, now he would be free.

That in itself brings you such a happy feeling for him.

If anyone would have ever told you that you would be doing this for none other than Bakugou-annoying ass-Katsuki, you would have sent them to a psychiatrist. Immediately.

Fate is a strange thing.

After the turn for the witnesses to sign, the judge says boringly, “By the authority vested in me by the government of Tokyo, I pronounce you husband and wife.”

He doesn't even wait nor expect the newlyweds to kiss or exchange rings as he closes the book and gives Bakugou the previous enrollment you both signed.

And that is it. You are officially married to Bakugou Katsuki.

“Who are you with on today's shift? What time are you out?”

His questions make you come back to reality after a quiet drive toward the company in his car, which you spend looking at the golden ring that now adorns your left hand. When you look up, the shining of the golden ring on his left hand catches your attention as he circles the steering wheel so the car turns on a corner, the company appearing in your view in the distance.

“Umm, I'm with Izuku. If everything goes well, at 3 a.m.”

“Okay. I’ll come pick you up.”

“Bakugou, it’s okay, I can walk home,” you insist for the nth time.

“Bullshit–”

“–Besides, you have morning patrol tomorrow,” you continue, completely ignoring his dirty mouth, “You can’t interrupt your sleep like this every time I have this shift. You need to be awake for your job.”

He grunts, muttering something that you can’t quite decipher what he said. You roll your eyes, thinking he acts like a petulant child sometimes.

A moment later, Bakugou enters the parking lot with his car, to which you look confused at him. Why is he entering the company on his day off?

He answers even before you can articulate your words, “I need to pick up some unfinished reports I have to turn in tomorrow.”

You pull up an eyebrow, untying the seatbelt and getting out of his car once he finally parks, “Wow. Dynamight is lacking on his paperwork?”

“Shut up, short-legs.”

You snort at his lighthearted insult as you walk together inside the company. But right when you both cross the big doors, Bakugou stops and looks at you. You frown confused, he then motions down with his head and you see his hand open, waiting. Oh, right.

Item n°2: Act like we are in a real relationship. The lawyers for the companies always investigate deeper into each hero, so that their status and validation of mental sanity are correlated.

You put your hand over his, both closing on each other, its warmth making those damn tingles run up your arm. But neither of you says anything as you walk through the lobby of the company holding hands.

Everyone who looks opens their eyes wide, one of the receptionists even spills her coffee drink out of shock. You hold yourself from laughing. Another of the receptionists looks you up and down, a clear disgusted expression on her face. Ops. Well, it’s not like you liked her either.

However, both you and Bakugou walk with your heads held high. You know how shocking and out of character the image of you both holding hands like a couple looks. And fast, everything happened so fast. You can already hear the gossip about whatever this is that you might have with Bakugou is way too fast. But you haven’t done everything you did for them. It is for him. As surprising as that sounds, even for you.

He walks with you towards the clock where you have to mark your entrance, never dropping your hand as you do. Then, you walk together to the elevator waiting for it to arrive. As you wait and look down at your shoes, you feel before you actually see his other hand moving, fingers brushing against your ear when he tugs a strand of your hair that had been over your face. Surprised, you look up at him but still smile in thanks.

Bakugou retracts his hand quickly and puts it inside the pocket of his jacket, looking back at the elevator. You would tease him for the little blush his cheeks are showing, but you decide it’s not the moment, considering how all eyes are on you two.

When it arrives and you get in, standing very close to each other while watching how everyone tries to peep inside to see if you’re still holding hands or if anything else happens between you two, you both jolt a bit when a wild and hurried Izuku suddenly enters the elevator, jacket half off and hair disheveled. He also looks in surprise at you two, eyes traveling down at your connected hands. A shit-eating grin appears on his face as the doors of the elevator close.

“Shut up.”

Bakugou and you speak at the same time.

Izuku snorts, hands in the air in a sign of surrender. “Wasn’t going to say anything…”

“I sense a ‘but’...” You roll your eyes, and Bakugou hums in agreement.

The greenette smiles wider, “But I understand now why everyone was looking like they saw All Might in person.”

Bakugou insults him, just because he always wants to have the final say, making Izuku laugh out loud amused. You decide to ignore both of them until the elevator arrives at your floor.

“Don’t blow up the elevator,” you warn them both after Izuku answers back at Bakugou, just to spite him. Your hand gives Bakugou one last squeeze in goodbye before walking out, “I’m with you today, Izuku.”

“Oh, cool! I’ll get connected in a bit.” You nod in his direction and look at Bakugou one last time, smiling and waving.

The doors close and you don’t get to see him smile back at you.

The shift, as always with Pro Hero Deku, is not calm or chill. It’s hectic and dangerous, and it keeps demanding all your focus and senses on alert.

“You know, sometimes I believe you have a magnet for trouble stuck up in your ass…” you hear Izuku spill the drink he must have been probably about to swallow. You chuckle devilishly. Wow, two times in a day you make someone spill their drink, that must be a record.

“Damn. Not twenty-four hours of being married to him, and you are already influenced.”

“Oh, shut it,” you both laugh amicably.

Again, the pip-ing of alert sounds in your computer. You sigh, “Deku, another threat five streets down where you’re at now.”

“On my way!”

“See? A magnet in your ass…” Izuku laughs.

You both don’t get to chat about another thing that is not your job again for the rest of the shift.

At exactly 3:10 a.m. you let out a tired sigh, stretching your arms above you and moving your body from side to side as gentle cracks sound from your backbone. After Deku pushes a villain inside a police car and looks at it drive away for a moment, his yawn that you hear through the earbuds passed on to you as you involuntarily copy the action.

“That was the last one. I’m going back,” you agree with him as you press the option on the system that notifies everyone on the shift that your hero is coming back to headquarters.

“Done.”

“Thanks, Y/N, great work today!”

“You did it all, buddy.”

“Oh, no! None of us heroes could do it without you. All of you, really.”

You frown, a bit surprised. I mean, Izuku is always polite and thanks you after every shift, but today feels different. Like he is purposely saying that, as if he knew someone important was listening to their connection.

“You are… welcome?” You actually don’t know what to say. He simply chuckles.

By orders from your area, you can't leave until Deku’s entered the company back again, so you use that time to finish gathering your things and closing the system.

“I'm back. Wait for me, Y/N. I'll take you home,” not longer than five minutes later Izuku says through the earbuds.

“Oh. You don't have–”

“Kacchan asked me to.”

His words shut you up. But he doesn't wait for your answer as he finally disconnects the communication. 

And you're left there, frozen for a moment, assimilating his words. Bakugou asked Izuku to take you home. He asked his best friend to take care of you, even when he knew Izuku would do it or offer on his own. Izuku always rode you home when you had night shifts together. Bakugou surely knows that. Then, why even mention it to his friend? Why personally ask Izuku to help you? Because… Bakugou didn't enter the company only for his unfinished paperwork. He did it to talk to Izuku. Was this… Bakugou taking care of you because you were married? Or because he wanted to?

[ao3demographicssurvey2024]

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[aventurineswife]

aventurine, sunday, and any others when reader pretends to not remember them after a bad injury hehe…[angst with fluff at the end] i love giving my poor babies heart attacks mwahaha

anyways love u and ur writings btw k byeee drink water ok byeee 💕✨

“I'm sorry, but who are you?”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Soft Fluff, Light Humor Angst to Fluff, Established Relationship, Memory Loss, Reassurance.

Warnings: Emotional distress (brief moments of fear and confusion).

A/N: thanks for the reminder, anon! 😪😮‍💨I really need to drink some water

Aventurine's eyes widened, his usual playful smirk faltering as you looked at him, confusion clouding your gaze. He reached out, as though instinctively wanting to close the distance between you, but he hesitated. Your words cut through the air, soft and fragile.

"You… you are… who exactly?"

The words stung more than he expected. His heart raced in his chest as he observed the faint, distant look in your eyes. He had always been in control of the game, masterful in reading people, but this? This was a blow to his carefully constructed facade.

"You don’t remember me?" His voice was softer now, the bravado slipping as his pulse quickened.

You shook your head, an empty feeling creeping into your chest. "I don’t think so. Sorry… am I supposed to?"

Aventurine's smile faltered, and for a moment, you saw something raw beneath his cool exterior. Pain. Fear. He stepped back slightly, trying to hide the cracks forming in his walls.

"I suppose I’ve miscalculated…" he muttered to himself, voice barely audible.

But then, you reached out and touched his arm gently.

"I—"

Aventurine looked at you, his breath catching in his throat as you softly smiled. "I do remember you, though. Maybe I was just… testing you?"

The game was on again, but this time, it was different. He chuckled, a soft, relieved sound that made the weight of his worries lift just a little.

"You're dangerous, you know that?" he said, his voice returning to its usual lighthearted tone, though there was an underlying tenderness now.

You smiled. "I think I’ll keep you on your toes."

And with that, the shadows of doubt lifted, replaced by the warmth of your presence—one he could no longer imagine being without.

Sunday stood there, his eyes darkened with a mix of concern and confusion, staring at you as if you were a stranger. His fingers twitched slightly, an impulse to reach out, to make sure you were real, that you hadn’t slipped into some other world.

"You… you don’t recognize me?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper, fragile under the weight of his own disbelief.

You blinked at him, the blank look in your eyes unnerving him more than he cared to admit. "I’m sorry… I don’t think I do. Are we… close?"

The air between you seemed to freeze, thick with unspoken emotions. His mind was racing—how could you forget him, forget everything you had shared? The kindness, the warmth, the bond he’d built so carefully with you...

"I see," Sunday murmured, his gaze softening with a hint of sadness. "I suppose it’s a part of the dream, isn't it? To forget… to lose everything."

You could see the strain in his expression, the hope fading from his eyes. "Sunday, I… I didn’t mean to forget you."

You reached for him, your hand trembling as you touched his sleeve. The contact seemed to pull him out of his thoughts, and his breath caught.

A moment of stillness.

Then Sunday smiled faintly, the sadness still lingering. "I suppose we’ll just have to make you remember, won't we?" His voice was gentle, though you could hear the underlying fear in it.

You smiled, this time with a reassurance he needed. "I think I already do."

A sigh escaped him, a soft, grateful breath as he pulled you into his arms.

"Don't ever scare me like that again." he murmured into your hair, holding you close.

Ratio’s usual air of unshakable confidence was nowhere to be seen. He stood before you, his eyes wide with confusion and an almost frantic edge to his movements.

"You—don’t remember me?" he repeated, his voice betraying a crack he hadn’t expected.

You stared at him, trying to piece together the fragments of the world around you, the details of his appearance leaving you more unsettled than anything. "I… I’m sorry, I don’t think I know you."

His frown deepened, his expression unreadable but filled with something you couldn't quite place—was it hurt? Disbelief?

"I see. This is… unfortunate," he said, voice smooth yet tinged with something that didn’t fit. He folded his arms over his chest, eyes narrowing slightly. "I expected better from your memory."

You looked at him more closely, sensing a vulnerability underneath the sharpness of his demeanor. He was, despite his intellectual brilliance, losing himself in this.

You took a step closer, closing the distance between you, your hand reaching for his, gently catching his wrist. "I’m sorry… but I’m sure we’ve met before. I just—"

He paused, his sharp breath catching in his throat as he looked down at your hand on his. For a brief moment, his composure cracked, and you could see the raw emotion behind his usually controlled facade.

"Don't do this to me," he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if the weight of the situation was too much to bear. "You must remember."

You smiled softly, understanding now. "I remember. You’re the one who always insists on teaching me things."

His gaze softened instantly, a relieved exhale leaving him. "Good."

Ratio’s usual brilliance returned, but this time, there was something gentler about him. "Perhaps next time, try not to lose your memory so easily."

And though his words were sharp, his hand reached out to take yours, a reassurance that you were not lost to him.

Me lmaoo

[simp-ly-writes]

Recap, Rewind, Fast-Forward

─────── · · The Comment Section (pt.3.5)

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: A recap of everything; the people and moments in your life recently. A rewind to reminice on how many years you and spencer have known one another. And a fast-forward on what is to come in your life in becoming a movie-star.

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, jealous!Spencer, angst, social media au, attempt at comedy, slowburn, light swearing, fluff, mutual pinning, irl celebrities, friends that act like lovers, friends/lovers.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | PART TWO | PATH THREE | PART FOUR

─ · · A/N: thank you so much for this ask, anon! post number 200 for me yippee!

─────── · ·

RECAP: 🔔 (name)s_username just posted for the first time in awhile.

Liked by co_mill, spennser, sydney_sweeney, and others

(name)s_username how things have been going...

View all 7,342 comments

spennser i demand a rematch.

↳ (name)s_username accept the truth and let me be better at something than you ↳ spennser you are better than me in many ways ↳ (name)s_username okay then, name some. ↳ spennser you are smarter, funnier, prettier, kinder, and are way better at uno and table tennis than me ↳ (name)s_username shut up now please 😃 ↳ noahgrossman214 so this was what had you blushing earlier... ↳ (name)s_username you too, shut up now please 😃 ↳ username44 they are perfect together, your honour. ↳ username21 (yourshipname) forever!

username01 I am so in love with you (and spencer).

username54 so excited to watch the film!

sydney_sweeney thank you for making me look cute! 🥰

↳ (name)s_username you always look cute, my lover ❤️ ↳ sydney_sweeney 😘

username33 get a life. work a real job like the rest of us.

co_mill marry me.

↳ (name)s_username yes. ↳ shaynetopp what the hell man! ↳ spennser yeah, what the hell man! comment deleted by user ↳ glen_powell they are canonically my spouse first! ↳ (name)s_username i'll always love you, first husband ❤️ (throuple?) ↳ glen_powell throuple ❤️ ↳ co_mil throuple ❤️ ↳ username54 spencer really has me out here crying over instagram comments 😭

username27 I aspire to be as cool as you 😔

username11 watched the apology video, I forgive you!

username88 please be in more videos with Damien, I love your dynamics!

username19 did anyone manage to see spencers deleted comment?

─────── · ·

REWIND: 🔔 This post is getting a lot of likes, check it out!

Liked by spennser, ianhecox, shaynetopp and others

(name)s_username crazy it is to think I met you 12 years ago, here's to another 12 and then some my best friend ❤️

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spennser wouldn't have made it this far without you 🫶

↳ (name)s_username same goes to you 🫶 ↳ spennser 😊 ↳ (name)s_username 😊 ↳ username01 i am going feral over here, gnawing at the gates.

username23 new (yourshipname) lore just dropped! they met in college?!?!?

username45 thank you (name) for supplying us with new spencer images!

username32 going to find a bridge, wish me luck 🤞

username50 sobbing, crying, throwing up. /positive

ianhecox one of my favorite duos

↳ (name)s_username could never beat you and anthony though 😄 ↳ anthonypadilla i think we are in different competition brackets... ↳ (yourshipname)updates 👀 the tea! the shade!

username90 there is NO WAY you two have been pining after each other that long. how're you both still alive and functioning??

username22 if this is the only type of anniversary we are ever going to receive from you two, i will accept it with a heavy heart.

co_mill love you two!

username74 OMG they are getting married and nobody thought to tell me!!

↳ username01 we wish 😭 they are just celebrating their friendship here, nothing romantic (yet)...

username07 he is so fucking cute, (name) is you don't want him, let me at him!!!

─────── · ·

REWIND: 🔔 You got tagged in spennser's post. click to view.

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spennser 12 years went by way too quickly with you.

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mobile_suit_alex you and me don't have a friendship anniversary 😔

↳ username99 tell me about awkward... 😬 ↳ username14 rip. ↳ spennser we can make something work 👍

(name)s_username I can't believe it either 😆

(name)s_username play lego star wars later? 🫶

↳ spennser hell yeah. 🫶

username39 please kiss already, everyone knows you want to.

username17 we might see GTA 6 before spencer and (name) get together, i don't like this timeline.

angelagiovanagiarratana you guys are so darn cute, i want to eat it 😤

filmingamanda lowkey jealous.

↳ username12 join the party! ↳ username43 we have been here

username84 NO! You both don't get to hold each other and call it "just-friends!" I am officially calling you and (name) out!

username15 someone hold me like that, please. it would fix me.

username19 anyone else raising eyebrows to that last pic?

username61 spencer be holding on for dear life fr.

smoshgames we are so happy for our parents!

↳ spennser i thought i told you guys not to use the account for things like this ↳ smoshgames sorry not sorry, boss! 🏃‍♂️💨 ↳ anthonypadilla i thought i was dad? ↳ username22 i can't with these comments 🤣

username68 can't wait to watch your boyfriend/girlfriend go kiss a bunch of hot people on the big screen! 😄

username39 SCREAMING FROM THE TOP OF MY LUNGS.

username01 i like to think that last picture is spencer being jealous over some comments and wanting to prove a point mwahahahha!!

↳ (youshipname)updates yes, please! feed the delusions!! ↳ username71 i love fan-canons, i love this community ❤️

username57 make more content. i am bored.

─────── · ·

FAST-FORWARD: 🔔 (name)s_username just posted, check it out!

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(name)s_username sneak peak: kisses! we are almost done filming now, so excited for you all to see it 🥹

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sydney_sweeney you know, i'm not too happy with that last shot. want to try that scene again? 😉

↳ (name)s_username 😳 o-oh? ↳ glen_powell i'm left out again, i swear you two- ↳ (name)s_username you love us both, who are you kidding 😘 ↳ glen_powell well, I can't deny that 🫶 ↳ username22 HEY!! 😡 that hand-heart is spencer and (name)'s thing!

username67 is this a car accident? because i can't look away!

username88 so, nobody on smosh is saying anything?? okay then...

chickenshopdate i am formally asking you out.

↳ (name)s_username yes ma'am! 🫡

Sonypictures see the full scenes of sydney_sweeney, glen_powell, and (name)s_username this winter!

↳ username99 what happened to the holiday release? ↳ Sonypicture hi username99! filming has processed a lot faster than planned and we want this movie to have its own time to shine with little competition. ↳ username50 hey- the sooner i can watch this- the better!

romcom_interviews i think i need a cold shower after these pictures, oh shoot! wrong account!

username70 i can't stand all these promotional accounts trying to act funny, like get out of my feed.

username36 I LOVE U (NAME), PLEASE CAN WE HAVE CHILDREN?

↳ username07 well, at least they were polite about it...

username31 I am having emotional whiplash. 😣

username01 (name) really be out here living like (y/n).

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: something a bit different, what did you all think? thank you all for the support on every part so far- means a lot to me and makes me want to write more! what are you looking for to in the next part?

─ · · TAGLIST: @lisiliely

[blu3n]

Hiii can you write a Jason Todd x reader where the reader asks Jason to teach her self defense and Jason has a hard time with it because he imagines her getting hurt

omelet.

Blue : Thank you very much for asking, I hope I did what you asked and in a coherent way, if you didn't like it please leave an ask or comment in a respectful and kind way.

Sinopse : Jason x reader, he teaches you how to fight but it all ends up going wrong.

At first, Jason is a little hesitant, knowing the dangers that come with getting involved in such scenarios. Jason wouldn't want to see you get hurt, but he'd be willing to help you anyway..

Jason Todd would be careful, just making gestures so you could pick it up and practice..

From how to punch someone, kick a man in the right places or escape from a robbery.

Already placing the mat on the floor, he went over the techniques with Hoce a few times to remember how and when to use them in combat..

"Okay, you know how to defend yourself now here I go" he says in a firm tone for you to prepare yourself. When he goes for you, everything happened so fast you didn't know how to run, fight or anything like that but in desperation or maybe just out of pure adrenaline you kick him right in the middle of the balls in defense.

Jason's eyes widened comically as his foot connected with his most sensitive area. He let out a gasp of pain and doubled over, his hand flying down to clutch his groin. "Holy shit!" he choked out through clenched teeth. "That—wasn't—for—kicking—me—in—the—balls," he breathed, his voice tight with pain. "Jesus—"

You covered your mouth with your hand, your eyes wide. "I'm sorry," you said, worried about his situation. "When you told me to prepare myself, I went in desperation."

Jason was still crouched down, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to deal with the initial pain. He lifted his head and looked at her through narrowed eyes. "You're doing great, babe, just try not to use your feet next time?" he murmured, his voice cracking with pain..

Holding back your laughter, you grab an ice pack and place it on the sore spot, still worried about your situation..

Jason watched you walk away, still holding back a laugh. He leaned against the wall, still looking uncomfortable due to the pain in the area in question.

When you came back, you handed him an ice pack, and he frowned as he put the pack away. "That was a little brutal, you know? I bet any guy who messes with you will think twice," he complained, but again with a playful tone in his voice.

"You're the one who taught me this technique," you say in a playful tone, soon seeing him sigh in relief at the cold sensation between the injured area.

Jason looked up at you with a serious expression, although his body relaxed a little with the relief caused by the cold.

"Yes, I did," he admitted, "but when I said 'use all the tools at hand,' I forgot to specify that it didn't include my testicles."

"Oops" You tried not to laugh, you didn't want to give the impression that you were having fun but the situation so far made you laugh so much that you ended up falling backwards on the mat. "Sorry babe-" You tried to hold back your laughter but without success the sound echoed in the place.

Jason looked at you, still with a slightly irritated expression, as you tried to contain your laughter. But when you fell backwards onto the mat and the sound of your laughter echoed through the room, he couldn't keep his seriousness. A small, mischievous smile appeared on his lips.

Before the two burst out laughing.

Jason bent down to where you lay on the mat, still laughing. “You’re a pest, you know that?” he said, but there was a note of affection in his voice. He sat down next to you, the laugh still trembling on his lips.

They both laughed all afternoon that day, and after he recovered he engraved in his mind to never let you be scared when they went to train hand to hand.

[unicornpopcorn14]

Isn't it interesting how teen skk are like... way more tragic than their adult selves?

[husbandograveyard]

This is my contribution to a Discord Server exchange. My recipient is @lale-txt - an honour, truly.

Henlo Lale, I am your [no longer secret] secret summer...santa? Fairy? Either way, I set out to write you a little thing and then it became a slightly bigger than little thing. I think it may actually be my longest Tumblr fic to date. I hope you enjoy it, I had quite a lot of fun writing it -it took me out of a writing slump even. You gave me SO MANY delicious prompts to work with, but I eventually settled for my very first instinct, fake dating / married with Tengen. Sending you loads of love!

Tengen Uzui x Fem!Reader - SFW - 5.0k words cw/notes: fake dating / fake marriage | mention of injuries | In series | a hint of angst but all comfort after | Readers body does not get described, but female pronouns are used, reader is referred to as wife, girlfriend, woman, etc. | Tengen has his wives, they are mentioned, but they are not actively in the story | Tengen is still an active Hashira |

“So let me get this straight…” 

You were rubbing the bridge of your nose, trying to massage away the headache that was brewing. There was no way you’d be successful with the way this situation was going. 

“You have not one, not two…but three wives. Yet you are asking me to pretend to be another one of your wives because…?” 

“Because they are all out on their own missions and for this super-secret undercover one I have to have a partner otherwise they will not let me in.” 

Tengen was smiling, eyes full of hope and sparkles, and you had to resist the urge to punch his beautiful face just to wipe the smirk off of it. He was so casual about it too, as if it was only logical, and you were the one confused about the situation. 

You bit your lip, physically trying to bite back snarky remarks. An actual filter for your words, if you will, while your brain was too preoccupied trying to make sense of the situation. You sighed, taking another deep breath before clapping your hands together in front of your face, resting them against your lips and then pointing them at him, the only way to express your mixed annoyance and frustration. 

“Tengen, first of all, the mission is not super-secret, we literally all just heard the details. Secondly, there are a multitude of ways for you to carry out the mission or infiltrate that do not entail you going undercover as a couple at the retreat!” 

He held his hands up in defense, shaking his head at your arguments.

“That wouldn’t really be a flashy way of handling the situation. You know I need to do my work in my own way.” 

You shook your head in response, but still indulged him a little by asking what was in it for you. A smile appeared on his lips, and you realized that you had just shown him your cards. You had shown a little interest in the plan, and that was all he needed to give you the final push towards agreeing with him. 

“Well, you would be able to go on a deluxe retreat with me of all people”, he started his reasoning. You just rolled your eyes in response. 

“It’s fully paid, and I will take care of you all weekend. Since you will be posing as one of my wives -or a girlfriend if you feel more comfortable just doing that, you will be treated the way I always treat my wives, which is a treat in and of itself.” 

You raised an eyebrow, keeping up your skeptic facade, but you had to admit that it didn’t sound all that bad. Tengen may be a little peculiar, and definitely could stand to keep his mouth shut on more occasions, but you did know he was a wonderful partner, and going on a date -or this retreat- with him wouldn’t be a bad experience per se. Except for the obvious part: the demons who were the reason that this mission existed in the first place. It was as if he had read your mind though, speaking up to address your one concern: 

“It’s still my mission, no worries about fighting and stuff. I will protect you!” 

You rolled your eyes again, you weren’t a meek damsel in distress, you fought demons just the same. You probably wouldn’t even have minded helping out with the actual mission part. But you also knew just how stubborn Tengen could get, and if it was a mission that he’d easily do by himself, he wouldn’t let you unnecessarily endanger yourself just to help. 

You were quiet for a little bit, pretending to mull it over. Your decision was already made, but you didn’t want to seem too eager. It became increasingly hard to say no to the sparkles in his eyes and his wide toothy grin. 

“Sure. I’ll be your wife for the weekend. But you better spoil me.” 

“Of course. I have never disappointed a woman!”

He laughed loudly, and you couldn’t help but feel a little jolt of electricity coursing through your body. Were you really that excited? 

Tengen hadn’t lied about the resort being luxurious. Sure, it was in the middle of nowhere, and sure, there were barely any people around, and sure, you knew that the forests surrounding you were crawling with demons the second the sun went under… but it was beautiful, and it was clear the clientele was a of a way higher standing than the people you usually mingled with. You felt a little out of place even, and you were surprised to see just how relaxed Tengen was, how well he blended in. It made more and more sense that he had been selected for this mission. 

You had been briefed on the details of the mission, but Tengens expectations of you were clear: just enjoy the weekend and be his loyal and loving wife for two days. You weren’t expected to fight or do any recon, but he would keep you updated on all the information he found, and you would just keep an eye out, the way you always do, even off-duty. 

Other than that, some boundaries were established: you were to fake being husband and wife, but there was no reason for unnecessary PDA. Everything was cleared with his wives as well, and you had to admit you really appreciated his consideration and consent. The way he went over all kinds of scenarios beforehand to gauge just what you would be okay with had made you feel some type of way. It had also made you realize that you were okay with a lot of things, way more than you would expect yourself to agree to. A small voice in the back of your head kept saying: ‘If it is him, I suppose it would be okay’, which made you wonder just why you were so willing to receive affection from him, faked or otherwise. 

Checking in with him having wrapped an arm around your waist made you feel more safe than you thought it would. You were strong and could fend for yourself, but that always had made past partners feel like they had to treat you like someone who was fiercely independent, someone who didn’t need as much pampering as you sometimes craved. It was nice to not even have to ask for that, feel safe and protected without feeling like he was looking down on you. He acknowledged your strength, it was just not your time right now to be strong. It was time to relax, and let him take care of you, and most of that was conveyed through simple gestures as you finished check-in and got settled in your room. 

He carried your bags, held your hand or had an arm wrapped around your shoulder and opened doors for you. The way he so effortlessly fell into the role of your husband made it easier for you to take on your role as wife as well. You leaned into his touches, and you didn’t even have to fake the smile that was on your lips most of the day. You had to remind yourself to sometimes still roll his eyes and deliver a playful slap to his bicep, especially when it was just the two of you and there was no reason to keep up the act. 

“It’s easier to just stay in the role”, you explained your behavior to him when he shot you a curious look after closing the door behind the two of you, “That way if someone walks in on us unexpectedly, there is no scrambling to get back into it.” 

He nodded in agreement, but you didn’t fail to notice the glimmer in his eyes as he did so, slightly smiling. Did he notice something was off? Probably. But even if he did, he didn’t mention or ask anything, and you were glad he didn’t: you weren’t sure if you could tell exactly what was going on either. 

Tengen was gone for a big part of the afternoon, doing recon and mission prep. 

“Nothing for you to worry your pretty head about,” he had said with a grin, and he had left with a promise to come join you at the pool whenever he was done. You were allowed to spend the afternoon as you wanted, so you had grabbed a book, and found a nice spot by the pool. You settled in with a drink and a fruit platter, enjoying the sun on your face and an occasional swim to cool down before letting yourself get carried away into the fantasy world of your book again. 

“Yo~ Looks like you’re having a good time even without me here?” 

You were startled by Tengen’s sudden appearance, standing next to your chair. You remembered your role swiftly though, looking up at him with a smile. 

“Oh you’re back, dea-” 

You interrupted yourself, blinking a couple of times, finding yourself flustered and a little shocked by the sight in front of you. Tengen had changed into swimwear too, which made sense considering the environment, but for some reason you hadn’t expected to come face to face with his abs when you looked up from your book. His usual tight clothes left not that much to the imagination, but his tight swimwear took away what little fantasy you still had left. You couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering just a little, from his chest to his abs to his muscled thighs, a part usually hidden by his baggy pants, back up to whatever tiny scrap of fabric was hiding the essentials. You felt your face heat up, and opened your mouth a few times to finish your sentence, but you couldn’t, momentarily stunned into silence. It felt like hours before he moved, a few beautiful, wonderful hours, but in reality it must’ve been only a few seconds if it was even that long at all. 

He just chuckled, crouching down by your side to hand you another drink, kissing your cheek, seamlessly picking up the conversation. 

“I’m sorry for taking so long, I know I promised I’d only take a small nap”

You swallowed, taking the drink, the cold glass helping you return to your senses, playfully smacking his arm. 

“And then you fell asleep and I had to escape your loud snoring, as always.” 

There you go, you were right back into your role. He laughed in response, taking the chair next to you. You sipped some of your drink, regaining your focus and calming your senses. You were taken off guard by your own reaction to Tengen. This was all just a little play you were putting on for the sake of the mission, right? And as his wife, you definitely shouldn’t be having such an extreme reaction to seeing him like that. And yet. 

You had expected Tengen to leave you the minute the sun went under, but he had surprised you by saying he’d have dinner together with you -better to keep up his cover. You’d go early enough so he wouldn’t miss out on too much of the evening, but long enough to actually lure out the demons and carry out the mission swiftly. 

You were pleasantly surprised by the idea. After spending all afternoon at the pool you had expected that was as far as the act would go for today. After all, you had swum together, sat together in the pool, a strong arm around you as you found yourself trying not to focus of the feeling of his body pleasantly pressed into yours, and talked a little about your book. You found yourself really enjoying his company -way more than you expected when you had agreed to this mission-, and getting to extend this quality time, whatever the nature of it, was an enjoyable add-on.

You went back to get changed, and had to do another double take when Tengen appeared in a hibiscus violet kimono, perfectly complimenting his eyes. His hair was loose, waves still damp from your earlier activities, and framed his face perfectly. He smiled at you in your kimono, complimenting you on your looks. 

“You look absolutely gorgeous tonight, my wife.” 

He added extra emphasis on those last two words, in a way that was barely noticeable for anyone listening along -even though you were alone in your room. Besides that little inside joke, his words sounded genuine. You chuckled in response, waving his compliment away with your hand and shaking your head. You weren’t sure how you were feeling about your body reacting to his words, but you hoped the butterflies that had come to settle in your stomach would quiet down, so you could enjoy the food. 

During dinner Tengen was a perfect gentleman again: holding your hand all the way till the restaurant part of the resort, only letting go to open doors for you and taking out your chair. The food was exquisite, dishes you had never had the opportunity to taste before, every single one tasting heavenly. 

You were mostly surprised by how easily you were making conversation. Initially, you feared it’d be a bit of a hassle, considering you had to pretend to be married, and there was no way you could talk about work to not break your cover. You had started just talking about how you liked the resort, the food and then the conversation had switched to old memories, and through them you got to know each other a little better. The conversation felt intimate, sharing memories you normally wouldn’t share with just a coworker, just a casual friend. But the stories proved to be the best possible way for you to pass the time without being off topic or suspicious, and since all the stories were true, you didn’t even have to lie to make them believable. 

Tengen listened to you intently as you talked, laughing loudly whenever you added a funny remark, and whenever he did so, you felt the butterflies fluttering in your chest. By now you were painfully aware of your predicament, but there was very little you could say about it in the moment without blowing your cover. Besides, you had to keep in mind that this was just for the mission. After this weekend you would go back to being coworkers, friends maybe, but nothing much more than that. It would be improper. 

You weren’t sure if Tengen was this good an actor, or if he was genuinely having the conversation you were having. You only knew that he seemed a little startled when he noticed just how dark it had gotten already, and seemed a little out of it when he announced that it may be for the best for you to retreat to your room. The way he winked at you when he said that made your heart skip a beat, even though you rationally knew it was merely an excuse again for anyone who could possibly overhear. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel like he was a little disappointed to cut your date short as well. 

You woke up in the middle of the night, confused and disoriented for a few seconds before you remembered where you were. You weren’t sure how late it was, but there was still no trace of the sun coming up in the distance, so you couldn’t have slept for that long yet. Tengen had gone off to do the mission work right after dropping you off at the room, sneakily escaping through the window, and you had decided to go to sleep not that long after. You asked him multiple times if he needed or wanted any help, and he had assured you just as many times that he would be perfectly fine. 

Staying behind like that, while you had agreed upon it initially, worked against all your instincts: you knew you could be useful out there. It was hard not to worry. Tengen had shared some details on the mission, but had kept you in the dark for most of it, mentioning that with too many details you might come after him or try to help even though your only job today was to relax. During the day, that was not a very hard task to accomplish, but by night, especially when you were all alone here in your room, it became so much harder to ignore your very nature as a demon slayer. Especially knowing Tengen was out there risking his life. No matter how strong anyone was, there would always be a risk when you go out. 

There was very little you could do right now though. You had no idea of Tengen’s game plan, nor did you know his exact location. If you went out now, you would only endanger yourself and possibly risk the entire plan failing. You knew when to stay put, so you did, but that didn’t mean it was an easy move. 

It didn’t help that you were wide awake now, too overwhelmed by a mixed bag of emotions, too many of them to sort out. You were feeling antsy, muscles itching to do something, anything. You couldn’t help but feel a little worried too, listening to the quiet outside for any noises that might give away what was going on outside. But the only noises greeting you back were those of nocturnal woodland critters. 

And then there were the…other feelings, by lack of a better term. You had been feeling some type of way towards Tengen today, and while you could probably define them more precisely, you weren’t sure if you actually wanted to. After all, no matter how open minded he was, it felt a little wrong to develop a crush on your coworker. Especially since he was happily married. Thrice. 

Yet you couldn’t deny the spots where he had touched and held you today under the guise of your fake relationship were feeling a little warmer, a pleasant warmness that made you feel a little safer, even now he wasn’t around. 

You could deny any less that the image of him in his swimwear by the pool was burned into your retinas, the mere idea making your face heat up just a little. 

Your main concern now was for him to get back safely. After that you would figure out what to do with all the feelings stirring inside you. Maybe you would address them, talk to him about it. But just as well, you’d suppress them, waiting for them to eb away as you spent less time together. Most missions were solo anyway. 

You looked out the window, the sky in the distance faintly changing colors from an inky black to a deep blueish purple. It wouldn't be long before those transitioned to purples, pinks and reds as the sun came up. It was later than you expected it to be, and you had hoped that Tengen would wrap up before sunrise. Either way, the mission would be paused or -hopefully- be finished when the morning started. You very consciously left out the third option: the mission had failed, and you were waiting for someone who wouldn’t return. 

You felt safe, you felt warm. 

There was a certain serenity that came with your current state: unbothered, ready to conquer the world. You woke up to the warmness of the sun on your face, and you had to blink a couple of times before your eyes got adjusted to the brightness of the light. Why was it light? 

You jolted up, suddenly realizing you must’ve fallen asleep again. The sudden movement caused Tengen to groan in pain. Tengen. He was back. 

It took you a few seconds to puzzle everything together. It was definitely day now, almost noon, judging by the position of the sun, and the brightness with which it shone. You hadn’t noticed Tengen coming back, at least not consciously so, but he was back. He was back and he was alive. A wave of relief washed over you, only to be quickly replaced with embarrassment, as you realized just how you were laying. Your futon a few yards away, your body resting half on top of Tengen’s instead; his groan had been a reaction to your elbow punching his ribcage as you got up a little too fast. He still had an arm loosely wrapped around your waist, and you had finally gained enough clarity to notice some dried up blood on his skin. 

You sat up completely, more carefully now, looking over at Tengen. His eyes were still closed, but he seemed awake enough. His face was contorted into a slightly pained expression, and you noticed now that he was covered in bruises and small cuts. No injury bad enough to worry you, but still, enough of them for you to feel guilty. You really should have insisted on coming with him. 

You got up to gather your medical supplies, noticing they were out and about already. Grabbing some gauze, water, a clean towel and disinfectant, you sat down next to him and started cleaning off the dried blood, disinfecting cuts and scrapes where necessary. This did wake Tengen up fully, and he sat up just a little with another groan. He didn’t stop you from your work, instead silently removed his shirt so you had better access and a better overview. 

This time your reaction to his naked torso was different: you gasped when you noticed some nasty wounds, things an experienced Hashira like him shouldn’t have if the mission was as routine as he had made it out to be. Any and all admiration for his physique was immediately replaced by worry, and you immediately got to taking care of the wounds as much as you could. 

It was silent for a bit as you worked, Tengen not reacting at all, except for muscles sometimes twitching as you touched him. You were the first to speak up, as you were almost done taking care of him, smoothing over a bandage with gentle motions. 

“What happened last night?” 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. You didn’t say a word, kept your face neutral. You gave him the time and space he needed to come up with an explanation. How the demon wasn’t entirely like his recon had made him think it was. How his traps had been avoided, and how the battle was a hard fought one. He did finish the job -of course- but it hadn’t been as flashily as he had hoped, and moreso, he had taken a while to get back to the resort, the demon nearly getting away as he ran further and further away from the resort when it became clear that the battle was lost. 

“When I came back here, the sun was almost up again, and I found you resting with your head on the windowsill, as if you had fallen asleep looking out, waiting for me. I will admit that made me feel guilty, maybe I should have asked you to come along after all.”

You nodded, agreeing with his words, but you knew why he had made the decisions he did. He was safe, and that was all that matters, you weren’t sure if you could handle the loss of another friend. The fact that he made you worried paled in comparison to the more joyful one that he was safe, not as hurt as he could have been and made his way back to you eventually. 

“I think I woke you up a little by climbing  back into the room, but you weren’t fully awake.” He chuckled now, his tone way more lighthearted than when he was telling you the details of his fight. 

“You mumbled my name, and when I went to move you to your futon, you clinged onto me so hard that I didn’t get to put you down without moving you. Hence our position when you woke up earlier.” 

You smiled sheepishly, apologizing for your sleeping self, feeling a little flustered at the way you must’ve acted. Tengen didn’t seem too bothered by it though, if anything he seemed amused. 

“It’s okay. Very flattering to have you clinging to me like a little koala bear.” 

“If you weren’t injured, I’d smack you right now.” 

He just laughed in response, and the sound reawakened the butterflies. You felt the heat creep up your neck, towards your ears, and you decided to hide your state by cleaning up your supplies and already repacking your bag. You’d be going home today, after all, and maybe for the best. You weren’t sure just how much longer you could last in his presence. 

The decision to go home early came pretty easy. It would be a hassle to explain how your ‘husband’ got hurt during the night, and it would be even harder to avoid stares or questions as you spent more time in the resort, especially if you would spend more time at the pool. 

You insisted that Tengen get his injuries checked out properly as well, even though he was adamant that he’d be fine. You were just a little worried, and you were by no means a healer, you didn’t want him to scar unnecessarily. 

The trip back was quiet for the most part, a comfortable silence, mostly broken by Tengen asking questions or talking away. Hard for a sound hashira to stay completely silent the whole way, it didn’t match his personality either. You were too caught up in your own head to truly participate in the conversations, though, and you were sure Tengen at least noticed as much. 

When the time came to part ways, you lingered just a little too long, pretending to just double check your possessions. Tengen lingered too, waiting nearby, when you finally realized what he was probably waiting for. 

“Here you go”, you held out your hand, returning the jewelry he had given you to match his for the mission, a little extra detail to make you more officially like husband and wife. You had played with one of the rings on the way back, twisting it around your finger a couple of times, trying to stop your mind from imagining what it would be like wearing the jewelry in earnest. 

He looked confused for a second -was it not what he was waiting for? and then shook his head. 

“Oh no, you can keep those. Think of them as a token of my appreciation, and a fun memory of our relationship, which lasted the full two days”, he said with a wink, making your brain a jumbled mess again with just two sentences. 

“If you insist”, you managed to squeak out, and you carefully tucked the jewelry away again, slipping one of the rings around your middle finger, pleased with the way it looked. It also helped you steer your focus away from Tengen, who was still standing very close to you, and you were hoping he’d step back before you’d have to make eye contact again. He didn’t though. Instead, you felt his hand carefully cup your jaw, tilting your face just as carefully, so you could no longer stare at your fingers. His thumb caressed your cheek, and you were sure he must feel the heat radiating from your face, enough to burn that hand. Even if he noticed, he didn’t show, instead just smiling at you. 

“Thank you for being my wife for two days. It really was an honor to have you by my side for a little while, and you did actually help a lot, this mission.” 

You shrugged in response, painfully aware that you’d be unable to form long intricate sentences as long as he was touching you like that, looking at you like that, standing close to you like that. 

“It was just a little m-mission. I barely did anything.” 

He chuckled.

“No, I think you did plenty.” 

He leaned down, kissing your cheek to kiss you goodbye, missing your lips by an inch, and you felt your legs almost give way as your knees buckled. 

“whaoh; didn’t think such a small and unflashy gesture would have such an effect on you?” He smirked, his tone teasing. Oh, he was fully aware of what had been happening, and you just walked right into his trap. 

“I- you-” You took a deep breath, not wanting to stutter your way through an explanation. You weren’t even sure what you were trying to explain. How would you even tell him that-

“Don’t you worry, I know what’s been going on. This mission may or may not have been a little push, and my wives may or may not have been in the know. I am not saying that Hina came up with the idea, but I am saying she may have been involved even more than the two others.”

He smiled while you were trying to process his words, a task too big for your brain to manage, as his lips had left you unable to properly think. 

“How about I invite you over sometime soon, hm? A proper date, no pretenses. See how it goes?” 

You couldn’t do anything but just nod, still processing what was going on. He smirked; that very handsome smirk again and leaned down once more to leave the shortest and softest kiss on your lips. 

“I’ll contact you soon then.” 

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 98

Geralt comes clean to Jaskier one night that he feels as if their friendship and their traveling partnership is a little onesided, but because he's Geralt, he doesn't articulate this well enough to actually draw you to the correct damn conclusion. Jaskier assumes Geralt is dropping hints that Jaskier isn't doing enough. Geralt hunts and provides for them, and he does the contracts, and he does the cooking (Jaskier would set water on fire if he could) - Thus, Jaskier begins doing more in order to try and prove himself to Geralt. Geralt has finally admitted to Jaskier that he hasn't been doing enough. Jaskier made Geralt famous with one song, Jaskier barters their prices, Jaskier sings to earn them money every night, Jaskier holds his own in the fights he's unfortunately involved in, Jaskier takes care of camp while Geralt is away hunting, Jaskier massages Geralt, and cares for his hair- I mean, it's so much that Jaskier does for them, and Geralt feels he doesn't do enough. But Geralt has finally admitted that he's not doing enough to Jaskier, so now he has the motivation to do better! He just wishes it didn't keep seeming miraculously more and more difficult to keep up with Jaskier-

[viastro]

to live again | yoon jeonghan

ミ★ synopsis: it’s been years since your last milestone birthday; a time when everything still felt right in the world with youth and ambition. now that you’re older and times have changed, would you dare take a chance to save someone else in the past at the cost of your own future?

ミ★ genre: time travel!au, childhood friends to lovers!au, slow burn, angst, some fluff, some humor

ミ★ warnings: mentions of depression, suicidal thoughts, and brief(?) major character death

ミ★ word count: 38,765 (what in gods name.)

ミ★ pairings: jeonghan x gender neutral reader

ミ★ notes: omg hey... long time no see haha .... okay i’m sorry for not posting for five months it’s my fault but uh this was supposed to be my three year anniversary gift and then i failed as a human being KSHGRKDHK i’m so sorry it’s so hard balancing writing and university :,)) but i’m offering my longest oneshot ever as both a peace offering and a three year anniversary gift! i hope you guys enjoy this one, and PLEASE make sure to read the warnings! i love you all, thank you for your endless support even tho i’m not as active anymore </333 

ミ★ update 6/22/23: here is the sequel of to live again, dear dream

You’re sitting at the table, a small smile on your face as your friends sing you a happy birthday. You glance at each of their faces, from Dokyeom’s bright smile, to Seungcheol breaking out into laughter, there’s nothing but joy around you in the celebration of your birth.

“Happy birthday to you~” Seungkwan sings loudly, making sure to prolong the last note as you grin softly. Chan leans over and nudges him in the ribs, making the blonde cough as he falls back into his seat. The brunette gestures to you after patting Seungkwan on the back as an apology, “Make a wish, yn.” 

You bite your bottom lip at his words, glancing at all of them as the one wish you’ve made every year since you turned 18 comes to mind. You turn your head towards the chair in front of you, letting out a breath when you see the blonde haired boy sitting there, staring at you with a small smile as he waits for you to blow out the candle.

Closing your eyes, you quietly wish, 

I wish for Yoon Jeonghan to have a second chance.

You open your eyes and gently blow out the candle, glancing back up at the chair across from you, seeing it now empty as your friends around you cheer loudly. 

Ah, that’s right, you think to yourself when Jun pulls out the cake knife to start cutting slices for everyone. You swallow the lump in your throat and bow your head as a thank you when Wonwoo hands you your cake, eyes still trained on the empty chair as you hear the chatter of your friends around you. 

Jeonghan’s dead.

“Did you enjoy your birthday?” You look up from your phone to see Minghao walking over to you from the bathroom, drying his wet hair with his towel as he plops down beside you on the couch. Nodding your head, you give him a small smile, “Yeah, it was fun seeing everyone again.” 

Minghao snorts, “You say that like we don’t see them every other week.” 

“Is it a crime to miss my friends?” You ask with a laugh, to which your roommate just gently nudges your head with his before pulling out his phone. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, the sound of Minghao ruffling his hair with the towel heard occasionally as he scrolls through his phone. However, you’re too occupied with your own thoughts to watch videos with him as you stare aimlessly at the wall.

You and Jeonghan were born in the same year, something you learned the moment you two met as children.

You turned 21 today.

But Yoon Jeonghan will always be 5 months and 14 days away from turning 19 years old.

“Yn, are you thinking about him?” You’re snapped out of your thoughts when Minghao’s voice chimes from beside you, and you turn to see him looking at you with a concerned gaze. You press your lips into a thin line and turn away, nodding your head in response. 

He lets out a breath from beside you, “You shouldn’t be blaming yourself for his death.” 

“I could’ve done more. I could’ve spoke to him, invited him to eat lunch with me, offered to be his partner in group projects–” 

“None of those things would’ve stopped him from making the decision that he did that day.” Minghao interjects, and you shake your head. “You’re wrong.” 

“Yn–” 

“I can’t help but constantly think that maybe if I had acted earlier, then he would’ve come to my birthday instead of ending his life. He would’ve still been here.” You mutter, and the black haired beauty just stares at you quietly as you swallow the lump that’s growing in your throat. Biting your bottom lip, you stand up from the couch and walk towards your bedroom without another word, leaving Minghao by himself in the living room.

You shut the door behind you and lean your back against it, shutting your eyes tightly as you slowly slide down until you’re sitting on your bedroom floor. You raise your hands up to your face, letting out a shaky breath as you remember that day.

You’re staring at that familiar head of blonde hair, the envelope sitting inside your desk as your teacher continues to ramble on about the quadratic formula. You blink when you feel a tap on your back, and you glance back to see your friend looking at you with a mischievous smile. 

“Want to buy snacks with me during lunch?” Yeji asks, and the corner of your lips curls upwards. Nodding your head, you quickly whisper back, “I just need to do something really quick before we go.”

She gives you the okay! sign, and you grin before turning back towards the front. The sound of the bell is heard soon afterwards, and almost all of your classmates immediately stand up to start running to the cafeteria for lunch. You take out the envelope and turn back, peering over the top of everyone’s heads, and let out a breath when you see a flash of blonde. 

Nervously, you walk over towards the front of the class, the feeling of your classmates’ eyes on you as you do so. You come to a stop when you��re standing beside his desk, staring at the top of his head as he quietly draws in his journal. He halts his movement when he senses someone standing beside him, and he slowly glances up until his eyes are locked on yours.

You don’t fail to notice the confusion that immediately floods his face, with you being the last person he’d expect to come and talk to him. 

He blinks, “Yn?”

“Jeonghan, hi.” You say with a small smile, one that he doesn’t return due to the fact that he is still very confused as to why you’re talking to him. Biting the inside of your cheek at the feeling of all the eyes on you and the pretty boy, you finally hold out the envelope in his direction. 

He slowly takes it from your grasp, almost as if he thinks it’s just a prank. You watch as he opens it up and takes out the card that’s inside, and he blinks down at the invitation.

“Come to my birthday party this Saturday. It’s just a small gathering of my family and a couple of friends. You can even invite your family to come since our parents have known each other for a long time.” You explain, feeling your face grow hotter the longer he stays quiet. He finally looks back up at you with an indecipherable look in his eyes, and you internally wonder what’s going through his head. 

“We haven’t hung out since we were kids, why are you suddenly inviting me?” Jeonghan asks in a quiet voice, and you let out a small smile. 

“Because I want you to come.” 

The blonde haired boy stares at you for a moment longer, letting your answer sink in as the two of you stand in silence. You watch as he finally looks down at his journal, a hint of a smile appearing over his pretty features as he finally responds, 

“Okay, I’ll make sure to be there.”

You let out a sigh and slowly lower your hands from your face, blinking slowly as you remember the small smile he had on his face when you left the classroom to go get lunch. You rest your head back against the door, about to close your eyes when the sound of something sliding on the floor catches your attention. 

You glance down beside you, just to bite the inside of your cheek when you see a birthday card sitting there. The sound of Minghao’s soft voice rings out from behind your door as you lift up the card, 

“Happy birthday, yn.”

You open up the card once you hear Minghao disappear off to his room, and a quiet chuckle escapes past your lips when you see the numerous small paragraphs written from each of your friends inside. From heartfelt messages like Chan’s, to short but sweet messages like Jihoon’s, you feel a bit of your heart mend itself together as you stare at the electronically lit candle on your card.

Ever since you met the 12 of them in university, they have come to learn of the guilt you feel whenever your birthday season rolls around. They never tried to ridicule you for it, or try to belittle your feelings like others have. Instead, they do their best to make sure you always smile on your birthday. 

Your eyes fall onto your alarm clock, seeing the bright red numbers stare back at you in the darkness of your room. 

11:59 PM

Your gaze trails back down to your birthday card, and you let out a dry chuckle at the shining birthday candle drawing. Your eyes linger on the one empty space that doesn’t have any writing from the 12 boys, and you press your lips into a thin line. 

Glancing at the battery operated candle on your card, you close your eyes and quietly whisper to yourself, 

“I wish for Yoon Jeonghan to have a second chance.” 

Opening your eyes, you blow on the candle seconds before the clock strikes midnight. You watch as the candle turns dark, and the corner of your lips quirks upwards at the cute birthday card. A yawn escapes past your lips a moment afterwards, a sign that it’s time for you to go to bed. 

Standing up from the floor, you walk over to your bed and place the birthday card onto your bedside table. You bellyflop onto the covers, rolling over so that you’re staring up at the ceiling with tired eyes. Your thoughts are all over the place as fatigue slowly takes over, but a single tear escapes past your eye as the memory of Jeonghan’s blonde hair walking down the halls comes to mind right before everything turns black. 

You’re startled awake by the sound of your alarm going off, and you let out a groan as you quickly reach your hand out and slam it down on the clock to silence it. Rolling over onto your side once the ringing stops, you can already feel yourself beginning to fall back asleep when your bedroom door suddenly slams open. 

You let out a groan, “Minghao, I swear to God–” 

“Minghao? Who the hell is Minghao?!” Your eyes snap open at the sound of your mother’s voice, and you quickly sit up in bed and turn towards her. “Mom? What are you doing in my apartment…” 

Your voice trails off when you quickly realize that you, in fact, are not in your apartment. You’re in your childhood bedroom, except it’s different from when you moved out. It doesn’t have the same decorations it used to have. The polaroids that used to adorn the walls are replaced with posters of the kpop group you liked in high school, as well as old family photos.

“What the fuck?” You mutter with wide eyes as you gaze around your room, only to get whacked in the face by a pillow. 

“Language! Now get up from bed or else you’ll be late for school again.” Your mom tells you, and you can only blink at her as she steps out of your room. Once the door shuts behind her, you immediately raise your hand up and slap yourself in the face. 

The sound resonates through your room, and as you rub your cheek to soothe the stinging sensation, you find the pit in your stomach growing when it slowly starts to sink in that this isn’t a dream. You’re in your childhood bedroom, with your mom shouting at you to get ready for school—something she hasn’t done since you graduated high school.

“Wait.” You murmur once the thought comes to mind, and you reach out to grab your phone off your night stand. Turning it on, you stare at your lock screen as the date flashes in your eyes.

January 15, 2019

Your phone falls from your hands and lands onto the floor with a loud thud, but you pay no mind to it as you quickly get up from bed and walk to your closet. You yank out your school uniform and hurriedly start to strip out of your pajamas and into your school uniform, needing to get to school to see for yourself if this is really happening.

If you really came back in time.

“Yn! Great job at the final game on Friday!” 

“Your hair looks so cute today, yn!” 

“Yn!” 

You ignore all the calls of your name as you walk through the hallways of your high school, the sound of your heart beating against your chest is the only thing you can hear as you head straight towards your classroom. 

You had forgotten how well known you were in high school. 

Just when you’re about to turn the corner towards your classroom, a hand reaches out and grasps your wrist, spinning you around so that you’re face to face with them. 

You find yourself staring into the eyes of the guy who had the biggest crush on you throughout the entirety of your senior year, and you watch as the corner of his lips quirks upwards.

“Hi, yn.” 

“Jaehyun, I’m a bit busy right now. I’ll talk to you later.” You say with an apologetic smile, before gently removing your hand from his grip. You quickly turn around and run towards your classroom, feeling the eyes of everyone around you as you leave the school’s heartthrob standing alone in the hallway. 

Once the sight of your classroom’s sliding door comes into view, you immediately reach out and slam it open. The sound resonates throughout the room, gaining the attention of your classmates as they all turn in your direction with surprised expressions on their faces. 

“Yn, you good?” Yeji asks from your desk, but you pay her no mind as you frantically search the classroom for that blonde head of hair. Your heart falls when you don’t see him anywhere, and you reach down to pull your phone out of your pocket, checking the date again to make sure. 

“It’s January, where is he?” You mutter to yourself, and you quickly move to turn around to search for him again, only to almost immediately slam into the person behind you. 

“I’m so sorry—” The rest of the apology dies in your throat when your eyes latch onto the person’s name tag. You blink at the sight, before your eyes trail down to their hands that are resting on your arms as a way to steady you. Hearing your own heartbeat against your ears, you slowly look up until you’ve locked eyes with the boy you’ve missed most in the last three years. 

Jeonghan is staring into your eyes with an inquisitive gaze, his pretty blonde hair resting softly over his forehead. You remember the day he had dyed his hair, having made him stick out among the crowd due to the brightness of the color. While others around you may have giggled or whispered about it, you had stayed quiet about how beautiful he looked with blonde hair. 

“Are you okay?” Jeonghan asks in a quiet voice, but you can only stare at him in disbelief as tears prick the back of your eyes at the sound of his voice. You watch as concern floods his gaze when you don’t give him an answer, and you bite the inside of your cheek as you lower your head towards the floor to hide your glassy eyes. 

“I-I’m okay.” 

He continues to look at you for a moment longer, before nodding his head and letting go of your arms. You slowly tilt your head up so that you’re looking at him again, only to pause when you see how uncomfortable he appears as he glances around the room behind you. 

You turn around to find the eyes of all your classmates trained on you and Jeonghan, with expressions ranging from shock to genuine confusion. Frowning slightly, you turn back towards the blonde haired boy, just for him to avert his gaze to the floor as he steps around you.

“Glad to know you’re okay.” He mutters, before walking over to his desk without another word. You watch him with a dazed look in your eyes, still unable to believe that this is happening as Yeji rushes over to you and grabs your arm. 

“Yn! Everyone’s staring, let’s go to our desks.” She hurriedly whispers to you as she grabs your arm and drags you to your seats. You plop down in your chair, unable to ignore all the eyes on you as you glance over in the direction of the pretty boy. He’s staring down at his journal, foot tapping against the floor while listening to your teacher explain the lesson plan for the day. 

A small smile takes over your features, even though you know this is far from over, or that this could be a dream. You allow yourself to feel the slightest bit of relief at the fact that he’s here, the boy you’ve missed all these years. 

Your eyes trail over to the calendar pinned to the wall beside the whiteboard, staring at today’s date as you drown out the lecture your high school teacher is teaching.

January 15, 2019

Three months. That’s how long you have to prevent Jeonghan from doing what he did. 

You let out a shaky breath, before pulling out your journal and pencil to start jotting down a plan. You fail to notice the blonde haired boy shooting a glance towards you, silently wondering what’s going on in your mind as you vigorously write into your notebook.

“Okay, yn. What was that earlier?” You glance up from your lunch tray to see Yeji placing her food down in front of you and sitting down. You place a piece of pickled radish into your mouth, chewing it as Yeji waits for you to answer. Once you swallow the vegetable, you simply shrug your shoulders as you look around the cafeteria, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You and Yeji aren’t that close in the present time, the consequence of going to different universities after graduating high school. There’s still the occasional texts greeting each other happy birthday! or asking how the other has been, but it never progresses past that. 

Your gaze trails back to your high school best friend when she reaches out and smacks your arm, and a small smile forms on your face at the fact that you get to experience this again. She squints at the grin on your lips, and she lightly hits your arm again, making you pull away with a slight frown. 

“Why do you keep hitting me? I’m just trying to eat my lunch!” 

“Because you’re trying to act all coy! Now tell me why you ran into the classroom looking like a crazy person, and what you were aggressively writing in your notebook for all of math?” Yeji asks, picking up a piece of pickled radish and shoving it into your mouth because she knows it's your favorite. You chew the vegetable, feeling your heart warm a bit from the small act of kindness shown from your friend even though she’s annoyed with you. 

Maybe I’ll get the chance to make sure we don’t drift apart in the future as well, you think to yourself as you swallow the pickled radish. You just wave a hand at her, “I just had a weird morning, thought I was going to be late to class.” 

“That doesn’t explain how violently you were writing in your notebook.” Yeji points out with a raised eyebrow, and you roll your eyes. “What if I wanted to write notes because I thought the lecture was interesting?” 

“Your memory is insane. You hardly ever write notes.” 

“I heard that writing notes helps you retain information even better, so I decided to start taking notes.” You tell her with ease, gazing around the cafeteria in hopes that you’ll find that bright head of blonde hair. Yeji presses her lips into a thin line at your answer, before sighing in defeat as she gently kicks your shin to get your attention. “You know that I worry about you easily.” 

“I know, but don’t worry. I’m just trying to make sure I look competitive for the universities that I apply to.” You say with a small smile, to which the brunette returns. Feeling like you’re in the clear, you shove the last of the rice into your mouth and stand up from the table. Chewing on the last bite of food, you gesture over towards the exit, “I’m going to start heading to class. I want to study a bit.” 

Yeji wrinkles her nose at you talking with your mouth full, and waves you away with her hand. “Okay, okay. I’ll see you in a bit.” 

With one last smile, you wave at her and walk over towards the doors. Placing your tray where the dirty dishes are, you hurriedly step out of the cafeteria and head in the direction of your classroom. 

While eating lunch with Yeji, you came to the realization that Jeonghan was nowhere to be found. When you started thinking back on memories of lunch at school, you quickly came to the conclusion that you never actually saw the pretty boy eat in the cafeteria. You only ever saw him in class and in the hallways when you’d pass each other, but nowhere else at school.

You stop by the vending machine outside of your classroom and slip in a coin, before inputting the code to the coffee. You bounce from foot to foot while you wait for the drink to come out, and you quickly snatch the can out of the dispenser before hurrying to your classroom. 

You slide the door open once you’ve made it outside of the class, only to blink when you find the room to be empty. You slowly walk up to Jeonghan’s desk, finding no lunch box in sight. Letting out a breath, you glance up at the time to see that there’s only around 15 minutes left of lunch. 

“Where could he have gone?” You murmur to yourself, looking down at the canned coffee you bought for him. You roll it in your hands, before pressing your lips into a thin line and stepping out of the classroom. Walking down the hallway, you hold the coffee close to your chest as you think of the possible places Jeonghan could go to have lunch.

“There’s the field, but the weather isn’t that nice today. I don’t think he’d eat in the library, either.” You mutter to yourself as you sneak a peek into each room you walk past to see if he’s in one of them. Clutching the can of coffee, you’re about to turn back and head to the classroom when you freeze at the sound of a song coming from the stairwell.

You blink at the soft voice you hear, and slowly start to walk towards the stairwell. Your heart thumps against your chest when you begin to recognize the angelic voice, having not heard it since you were a child. 

Taking quiet steps into the stairwell, you stop when you see the back of that bright blonde head of hair. You watch in silence as he sings an unfamiliar song, a small smile beginning to play on your features when you see him tapping his foot to the beat. He doesn’t appear to notice you at the entrance, his headset blocking his sense of hearing to the outside world. 

You don’t mind, though. You can see how content he looks sitting by himself, singing softly to a song that he likes while he waits for lunch to be over. 

It’s only when he stops singing that you finally take a few steps towards him and sit down beside him on the step, promptly scaring the shit out of him when he shouts. 

“JESUS CHRIST!” Jeonghan exclaims when you plop down beside him, hand clutching his chest as his heart beats loudly against his ears from the scare. You give him an apologetic smile while trying to stop the laughter that threatens to escape your lips, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

He sucks in a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm down, even patting his chest to try and make his heart stop beating so loudly. Running a hand through his blonde hair, he turns back to you, “Did you want to sit here? I can leave.” 

You shake your head immediately, making him blink in confusion. Giving him a small smile, you hold the canned coffee out towards him, which he just glances at before looking back up at you. You wiggle the drink in your hand a bit, signaling him to take it from your grasp. He takes one more hesitant glance at the coffee, before reaching out and taking it from you. 

“Why did you get me this?” He asks quietly, now back to the closed off Jeonghan you remembered from the past. You shrug your shoulders, resting your cheek on the top of your knees as you face him, “Just thought about you when I was getting a drink at the vending machine.” 

He blinks at you, a habit of his that you’ve quickly come to notice. Biting the inside of his cheek, he turns away from you and stares down at the canned coffee you bought for him. You turn away as well, being reminded of the days you sat at the top of the stairs for months after he passed.

Back then, you had no idea that this was where he’d spend lunch.

Silence falls over the two of you, with sounds of your classmates’ conversations and the occasional laugh ringing from afar. You don’t find it to be suffocating like you would with anyone else though. There’s something about the silence between you two that’s comforting.

It’s only a moment later when Jeonghan finally speaks, a single word that’s spoken so softly you almost miss it. 

“Thanks.” 

You glance at the pretty boy beside you, watching as he pops open the can and takes a long sip of the coffee you bought for him. You’re unable to fight the smile that takes over your features at the sight, and you just nod your head as you murmur in response,

“Of course, Jeonghan.”

“Yn! Are you going to the group dinner tonight?” You shut your locker to find your teammate, Chaewon, looking at you with an inquisitive expression on her face. Giving her an apologetic smile, you shake your head, “No, sorry! I’m busy after school—I already made sure to let the others know.” 

“What? How come I missed your text? That doesn’t matter, yn! I want you to be there for our celebratory dinner after wrapping up the season!” Chaewon whines, wrapping her arms around you in an attempt to convince you. You chuckle at her theatrics and pat the top of her head, “I’m sorry, Chae. I promise I’ll be at the next one, and I’ll make sure to sit beside you.” 

Chaewon pouts at you in a last ditch attempt, but you remain strong and just stare at her quietly. She lets out a huff of defeat and removes her arms from around you, to which you just smile and pat the top of her head again. 

“Alright, but you promised! You can’t break it!” She says while pointing at you, and you laugh with a nod of your head. You gesture down the hallway, “Go, you don’t want to be late.” 

Your friend lets out a breath and nods her head, sending you a wave before hurrying down the hallway. You watch as her short hair sways back and forth in time with each step she takes, and you press your lips into a thin line before turning away.

“Time to find Jeonghan—”

“Yn!” You turn your head to find Jaehyun walking up to you with a grin on his face, and you give him a small smile in return. “Hi, Jae. How was class?” 

“It was alright. It was kinda nice to learn how to properly create a resume.” He tells you, and you chuckle with a nod of your head, remembering how genuinely helpful that class was for you in the future. He leans against the locker, a warm look in his eyes as he asks, “Do you want to go to the arcade with me? I heard from Yeji how you’ve been trying to win that Snorlax plushie from the claw machine.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek at the reminder of your obsession of trying to get your favorite pokémon from the rigged claw machines at the arcade, having completely forgotten about it when you grew older. In the past, you agreed to go with Jaehyun since he offered to help you get Snorlax, but you both just ended up losing $30 to the claw machine and got boba instead. 

But you didn’t come back in time to entertain Jaehyun and waste your time trying to win a plushie at the arcade. 

You came back in time to save Yoon Jeonghan.

Giving the brunette an apologetic smile, you gesture towards the hallway behind you, “Sorry, Jae. I promised my mom that I’d help her clean up our garden after school.” 

You don’t fail to notice the slight disappointment that washes over Jaehyun’s face at your answer, and you almost feel bad for turning him down because of this. He quickly puts on a small smile, his dimple appearing as he waves his hand at you, “It’s okay, yn. No worries, we can just go some other time.” 

Not giving him a response, you just send him a smile and a wave, before turning around and hurrying towards the exit of the school. Stepping through the doors, you look around at all of the students leaving campus, trying to find that familiar blonde head of hair. 

Your eyes widen when you finally spot the blonde, and you practically run after him. Calling out his name once you’re close enough, you let out a huff when you see that he has an airpod in each ear, and take a few more steps until you’re walking right beside him. 

He blinks when he notices something in his peripheral vision, and right when he’s about to turn his head, you pop forward so that he’s staring directly into your eyes. He practically chokes on a scream and rips out an earbud, hand resting over his chest as he looks at you. 

“Hi!” 

“You scared the fucking shit out of me!” Jeonghan exclaims as he takes out his other airpod and puts it into its case. You give him an apologetic smile and shrug your shoulders, “You were listening to music so you didn’t hear me shouting after you almost a block away.” 

“Is your way of greeting me to scare the shit out of me? First you jumpscared me in the stairwell yesterday, and now you pop out of nowhere like a jack in the box. I am not a fan of this technique.” Jeonghan tells you as he runs a hand through his hair, beginning to walk down the sidewalk again while you follow after him. Nudging his shoulder with yours, you chuckle, “Maybe if you didn’t listen to music at full blast then you’d be able to hear my presence when I’m nearby.” 

“I’m just used to listening to music like that.” 

“Why? So you can ruin your hearing and have similar hearing to an elderly man at the ripe age of 17?” 

“No one ever really talks to me, so I don’t see a reason to not wear my headphones unless I’m in class.” Jeonghan says with a light laugh, when what he said is something that shouldn’t be laughed about. You feel your heart weigh with guilt at the jokes you were making, and look down at the pavement as the two of you walk.

“I’m sorry.” 

Jeonghan shrugs his shoulders, “No need to apologize.” 

“Well. Try not to blast your music that loudly from now on, okay?” You say, turning to him to gauge his reaction. You watch as the blonde blinks in confusion, turning to you with a curious gaze as he tilts his head, “Why?” 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you give him a warm smile, “Because I want you to be able to hear me when I talk to you.”

With that, you turn away and start looking up at the sky as silence falls over the both of you. You can feel Jeonghan’s eyes on you for a moment longer, before he turns away to look down at the sidewalk as the two of you continue to walk home. 

It’s a few minutes later, when he finally responds,

“Okay.” 

“Yn, this is Jeonghan. He’s the son of your favorite auntie—your mommy’s best friend, remember?” You look inquisitively at the small boy in front of you, staring into his big eyes in silence as the two of you make each other out. 

“The two of you are both 6 years old, why not be friends?” Your mom says with a big smile, reaching out to pull Jeonghan a step closer to you. You look up to see your auntie giggling to herself at your mom’s attempts to make you and her son friends, and your gaze falls on the sleeping baby strapped to her chest.

“When’s your birthday?” You finally ask once you turn back towards him, and the boy before you tilts his head. “October 4th.” 

You blink at his answer, before crossing your arms with a pout on your face. His round cheeks puff up a bit at your reaction, wondering what this could mean as you let out a sigh. He watches as your mom nudges you lightly with a quiet laugh, before she turns to him with a smile, “Yn’s just reacting like this because you’re a couple months older than them. Their birthday is on April 20.” 

Jeonghan turns back to you, and you don’t fail to notice the hint of mischief in his gaze at this newfound information. He gives you a small smile and reaches out to grasp your hand, making your mom hold back a quiet squeal at the rapid development of your guys’ relationship. Your auntie gently slaps your mom’s shoulder with a smile, telling her to be quiet so that she doesn’t wake up the baby.

“Do you want to play games with me? My mommy recently bought the new GameCube.” 

Your gaze lowers from the grown-ups and down to his small hand holding your own, before looking back up into his big eyes as he anticipates your answer. You wonder whether or not you should trust him when you remember the look in his eyes when he discovered he was older than you. 

You don’t like it when people are older than you.

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you decide to test him. Tilting your head, you ask, “Does that mean we’re friends?”

Jeonghan blinks at your question, before nodding his head with a big smile as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world, “Of course!” 

Deciding to let go of your grudge at the sight of his pretty smile, you grin widely and nod your head. 

“Okay, then let’s play!” 

You smile fondly at the memory as you mindlessly doodle in your journal, completely ignoring the lesson that’s being taught on the whiteboard since you’ve already learned it before. You’re about to work on drawing a flower when you suddenly get a sharp nudge to the ribs, eliciting a squeak out of you as you turn to Yeji with wide eyes.

“What the fu—”

“Yn, care to solve this problem on the board?” Your head snaps towards the front of the room, seeing your teacher looking at you with an expectant look on her face. Biting the inside of your cheek, you realize that she noticed you were not paying any attention to what was being taught. 

You do a quick look over the board, seeing the calculus formula written on it. Clenching your fist as you try to come up with the answer in your head, you stand up from your desk and slowly walk towards the front of the room. 

Your heart is thudding against your chest, growing more anxious at the feeling of all the eyes on your back. In high school, you were known for being the smartest in your grade. You studied hard to get to that point. After every soccer practice you’d go and do homework until the early hours of the morning before finally going to sleep. 

But it’s been years since you last had to solve a calculus problem. 

You take a step past that blonde head of hair, and you press your lips into a thin line at the thought of embarrassing yourself in front of him when you ultimately end up with the wrong answer. 

“4/3.” 

You blink at the voice that whispers behind you as you reach out and take the piece of chalk that your teacher was holding out to you. Stepping up to the board, you turn your head to find Jeonghan scribbling in his notebook. You watch as he slowly lifts up his head and locks eyes with you, and he gestures towards the board before glancing back down towards his journal. 

Biting back the smile that threatens to take over your features, you turn back towards the board and look at the problem presented before you. You stare at it for a moment, trying to see how Jeonghan got to that answer when it suddenly clicks. 

You immediately begin to solve the problem on the board once you remember how to get to the answer, and you let out a breath of relief when you get the answer that Jeonghan told you. Setting down the piece of chalk, you glance at your teacher as she gives you a proud grin and nods her head at you. 

“Great job, yn. You can go back to your seat now.” 

Bowing your head towards her, you turn and walk back to your desk. Not without locking eyes with the blonde as you step past him, making sure to give him a small smile of gratitude. He just glances back down at his journal at the sight, and you’re practically beaming when you make it back to your seat. 

“How did you manage to solve that problem when you weren’t even paying attention? I can’t even solve it and I’ve been writing notes!” Yeji whisper-shouts to you once you sit down, and you just giggle quietly and shrug your shoulders at her as your gaze makes its way back onto that blonde head of hair. 

“Guess an angel wanted to help me today.”

You shut your locker with a small smile on your face, looking forward to walking home with Jeonghan again like you did on Friday. Throwing your bag over your shoulder, you turn and start walking down the hallway towards the entrance, only for your small smile to widen when you see the back of that blonde head of hair glowing from the sunlight shining in through the windows. 

“Yoon Jeonghan!” You call out, and your heart thumps against your chest when he immediately pauses at the sound of his name. He reaches up and removes an airpod from his ear, turning around and looking up from the floor so that his bright eyes lock onto yours. He blinks in recognition, and he puts his hands into his pockets while he waits for you to run over to him. 

“You heard me this time.” You say with a smile when you finally catch up to him, and he shrugs his shoulders as the two of you start walking together. “I thought you wanted me to hear you.” 

You nod your head, “I do, I just didn’t think you wanted to hear me.” 

Jeonghan just scoffs at this, but you can tell he’s not actually annoyed based on the relaxed expression on his face. He pushes open the door, and you grin and walk out with him following after you. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the world around you being all that you listen to as you walk down the street. 

You press your lips into a thin line when you think of your conversation with Jaehyun the other day, and a lightbulb pops off in your head when you suddenly come up with an idea. You stop walking and grasp Jeonghan’s wrist, making him stop and turn to you with growing confusion on his face. 

“Yn? Are you okay?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek and gesture towards the bus stop on the opposite side of the street, “Do you want to go to the arcade before we walk home? I’ve been trying to win this Snorlax plushie in the claw machines for a week or so now, and I have a really good feeling about trying again today.” 

Jeonghan lets out a breath and glances towards the direction of your guys’ houses, “I don’t know, yn. I kind of just want to go–” 

“Pretty please? I’ll pay for our meal if you come with me.” You try again, hope flooding your chest as you await his response. You watch as he looks down at the sidewalk for a moment, trying to think of his answer as you wait expectantly. 

Running a hand through his hair, he finally turns to you and nods his head. He points towards the bus stop, “Okay. Let’s go to the arcade.” 

You can’t help the big smile that takes over your features at his answer, and you immediately adjust your hold on his wrist and run towards the bus stop. A surprised noise escapes Jeonghan’s lips from your quick action, but he follows after you without complaint. 

You fail to notice the way Jeonghan’s eyes trail up from your hand on his wrist, to the back of your head with a hint of wonder in his gaze. 

“GOD DAMN IT!” You shout when Snorlax falls from the claw for the fifth time, and you slam your fist on the board where the controls lay. You bite your bottom lip in frustration, running a hand through your hair as you turn to Jeonghan. You see him trying to hold back the small smile that threatens to take over his features as he looks down at the floor, and you shoot him a glare. 

“I see you.”

“See what?” Jeonghan asks, immediately covering up the grin by releasing a cough into his elbow. You squint at him and point to the game, “If you think my failure is so funny, then you win Snorlax for me.” 

Jeonghan scoffs at this, and puts his phone into his pocket. He waves his hand at you to make you move to the side, and you bite back a laugh. Stepping away, you allow him to step forward so that he can play the claw machine.

“Watch and learn, yn.” The blonde tells you, and you let out a chuckle and gesture towards the claw machine. “Get me my Snorlax then, Yoon Jeonghan.”

You watch as the game begins to start, and the claw immediately moves towards the big pokemon plush that you’ve been wanting. Your eyes trail to Jeonghan’s face, and the corner of your lips quirks upwards when you see the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration. 

“Don’t laugh, you’re ruining my concentration.” Jeonghan finally speaks, and you blink at him, absolutely flabbergasted. 

“I didn’t even laugh!” 

“I saw you smile out of the corner of my eye.” 

“That is not the same as laughing–”

“Yn, I’m trying to concentrate…” The rest of his sentence dies in his throat when Snorlax falls from the claw, and the two of you can only stare at the big plush as it lands on its back. Jeonghan presses his lips into a thin line at the sight, before glancing down at the board to see that that was the final attempt. 

He clenches his jaw, and reaches into his pocket to grab another dollar bill to try again. Your eyes widen, “Jeonghan! It’s okay–”

“I’m going to get him this time. I only failed because someone was distracting me.” Jeonghan says with a pointed glare in your direction, making you let out a startled laugh as you point to yourself. “Me?! I didn’t even do anything!” 

“Shh! I’m going to get him on the first try, just watch.” The blonde tells you after inserting his money into the slot. You bite the inside of your cheek as you watch him let out a breath, before reaching for the knob to try again. 

It’s three attempts later when you watch Snorlax fall to his doom for the third and final time, that you look back at Jeonghan to see him staring at the pokemon with a defeated expression on his face. Holding back the laugh that threatens to escape, you reach out and pat his shoulder, “It’s okay. I’ll still pay for our meal.” 

Jeonghan’s lips form into a bit of a pout the longer he stares at the pokemon, and he squints his eyes and presses his finger into the glass to point at Snorlax.

“I’ll get you next time, Snorlax.” 

With that, he turns and walks away from the claw machine. You let out a loud laugh from behind him, throwing your bag over your shoulder as you hurry to catch up with him. Reaching out, you grasp onto his wrist when you finally catch up, and he glances down at the contact before looking back up at you. 

“I didn’t expect you to be so passionate about the claw machine.” You say with a giggle as the two of you step outside, and Jeonghan ignores the way your eyes sparkle at him by choosing to turn away. He shrugs his shoulders, trying to appear nonchalant as he responds, “I just hate capitalism.” 

You stop walking at his answer, causing him to stop as well. He glances back at you to see your lips pressed together tightly in an attempt to stop the laugh from escaping. He raises his arms up to ask why you’re laughing, which makes you shut your eyes to try and calm down.

“There’s no way it’s that funny.” Jeonghan says lightly, no malice in his voice as he awaits your reaction. You shake your head, sucking in a deep breath and squeezing his wrist, “No, I’ve just never seen someone say claw machines are a form of capitalism.” 

Jeonghan gawks at you, “Yn! How have you not heard about that? It’s too real. Do you realize that we’re literally victims of capitalism right now? That’s how they get you–” 

Jeonghan’s tangent is cut off by you bursting into laughter, the sound of your light and pretty voice ringing through the night. The blonde feels the corners of his lips quirk upwards at the sight of your smile, and he turns away when you look back at him while starting to walk towards the bbq restaurant again. 

“So you’re saying that by us playing the claw machine, we’re directly feeding into capitalism?” You ask through your giggles, feeling warmth flood your heart at the fact that this is the first time he’s spoken so much. It’s almost as if the first layer of the walls he’s built around himself is beginning to crumble, and you want to keep going. Jeonghan shoots you a glance, turning away as he asks, “Do you genuinely want to know?” 

You smile softly, “Of course, Jeonghan.” 

The blonde bites the inside of his cheek, before beginning to explain how claw machines are the ultimate form of capitalism and can even feed into the start of a gambling addiction. The both of you know that it’s a silly form of knowledge that he knows, but Jeonghan can’t help but notice the pure awe in your eyes as he talks.

It makes him want to keep speaking. 

And so, the conversation continues all the way to the restaurant. The two of you seem to talk about everything and anything until you both make it back home, where you’re forced to end the conversation. 

“Yn, honey! It’s time to sing Happy Birthday!” You hear your mom call from downstairs, and you turn to Jeonghan with an excited grin and nudge his shoulder. “Did you hear that? It’s time for cake!” 

The pretty boy beside you presses pause on the game the both of you were playing on your Wii console, and he turns to you, a big toothy smile forming on his lips at the sight of your own excitement. He nods his head and stands up from the floor, before making a run for the stairs. 

“Last one there is a rotten egg!” He calls, and you let out a squeal, standing up and hurrying after him. The two of you sprint past your family members, and you feel a rush of adrenaline flow through you when you see him start to slow down near the kitchen table. Taking your chance, you quickly shoot past him and jump into the chair that’s placed in front of your birthday cake. 

“I win! You’re the rotten egg, Hannie!” You cheer, laughing happily as your best friend moves to sit down right beside you. He nods his head with a small smile, “I’ll be the rotten egg since it’s your 8th birthday today, but remember to be the rotten egg when it’s my 9th birthday.” 

You pout at the reminder that he’s older than you, but it quickly disappears when your mom lights the candles on the cake placed before you. Your dad smiles and holds up the camera, already taking a video of you as everyone begins to sing happy birthday. 

You smile happily as you look at everyone around you, before turning to look at Jeonghan, who is singing quietly while gently clapping his hands and looking at you. You bite the inside of your cheek when the song comes to an end, and you glance at your mom who gestures towards the cake. 

“Okay yn, it’s time to make a wish.” 

You let out an excited giggle and nod your head. Quietly thinking to yourself on what you want to wish for, you slowly turn your head so that you’re looking at Jeonghan, who’s watching you expectantly. He gives you a smile and points to your cake, as if to remind you that you still need to blow out your candles. 

A smile takes over your features at the sight, and you turn back towards the cake and suck in a deep breath. Closing your eyes, you think to yourself, 

I wish to always have Jeonghan by my side, even if he may be older than me.

Opening your eyes, you lean into the table and blow out the candles. 

You slowly awaken to the light pouring in through your curtains, and you let out a quiet groan as you roll over onto your side. Your heart is warm from the dream, remembering that day like it was yesterday. 

Who would’ve known that years down the road, you’d be regretting not keeping Jeonghan by your side when you entered high school. Stretching your arms above your head, you roll over and pick up your phone, and the date appears before your eyes.

January 28, 2019

“Two months. Around two more months to convince him.” You mutter to yourself, before unlocking your phone and going to your messaging app. Tapping on your messages with the blonde, you send him a quick text, and a small smile forms on your face when you receive a response moments later. 

you: good morning jeonghan ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

jeonghannie: morning 

Letting out a breath, you set your phone by your side and sit up in bed. You open your curtains, allowing the sunlight to shine into your bedroom as you look at the pretty Winter weather. 

“I’ll make my wishes come true, Yoon Jeonghan.” You murmur to yourself, before finally getting out of bed to start preparing for school.

You’re standing in front of the vending machines, quietly wondering to yourself whether or not to buy Jeonghan a canned coffee or banana milk. Tilting your head, you finally decide to get him the canned coffee since you’ve come to notice the dark bags under his eyes. 

“Yn!” You turn at the call of your name, only to blink when you find Jaehyun waving bye to his group of friends before jogging over to you. You give him a small smile and say hello in greeting as you reach down to grab the two canned coffees from the vending machine slot. 

“I haven’t been able to talk to you in like, two weeks. You’ve been so busy.” Jaehyun says with a grin, and you let out a light laugh and nod your head. “Well, it is college application season. I’ve been busy trying to perfect my apps.” 

The brunette nods his head in agreement as you start to walk in the direction of your classroom. He follows after you, taking note of the two cans of coffee in your hands. Clearing his throat, he lets out a chuckle and points at the drinks in your hands, “Didn’t sleep well last night?” 

You shake your head at his statement with a kind grin, coming to a stop in front of your class as you turn to the handsome boy in front of you. You already know that Jaehyun has a crush on you, it was obvious from the moment the both of you were first paired up in biology together in your freshman year. 

You never felt that way towards him, which he came to learn at the start of university. However, Jaehyun has always been kind. He was just glad to have you as a friend, and you hope it stays that way, considering the fact that you’ve been ignoring him completely since you came back in time.

“I slept okay.” You say, and he raises an eyebrow at your answer. “So why two coffees?” 

You just give him a smile and raise a hand up towards him as goodbye, before turning around and entering your classroom. Feeling everyone’s eyes follow you as you walk away from Jaehyun, you step over to your desk and rest one of the cans on top. Ignoring everyone’s stares, you turn to find Jeonghan sitting at his seat in the front of the room, head resting on his desk as he tries to catch some extra sleep. 

Grinning at the pretty sight, you call out, “Yoon Jeonghan!” 

You watch as the blonde’s eyes slowly flutter open at the call of his name, and he sits up from the table. Rubbing his tired eyes with the back of his hand, he takes out one of his earbuds and turns towards the back to find you standing by your desk. He lowers his arm to his side, and you raise up his can of coffee with a bright smile on your face. 

The corner of his lips quirks upwards when you wiggle the drink in his direction, signaling for him to take it from you. He raises up a hand and waves for you to come over, to which you groan but quickly oblige. His eyes follow you as you quickly make your way over, but he feels a shiver rise up the back of his neck, and he slowly becomes aware of all the eyes on him. 

Jeonghan raises a hand up to the back of his neck, almost as if to hide the goosebumps from view as he slightly turns his head, only to make eye contact with a majority of his classmates. He blinks at all of them, not used to all the attention being on him when he suddenly hears,

“I bought you coffee out of the goodness of my heart, and you still want me to deliver it to you?” 

Jeonghan slowly looks up to find you jokingly complaining about how he must view you as a glucose parent while you place the canned coffee down onto his desk. A bright smile forms on your face as you let out a soft laugh at the jokes you’re making, and he feels himself relax at the visual. 

You turn to the blonde to find him staring up at you, a content look beginning to appear in his eyes as he does so. Feeling happy at the sight, you decide to point at the can and crack another joke, “What? Do you want me to open it for you too?” 

Jeonghan blinks out of his trance, and rolls his eyes teasingly as he reaches out to grab the can. “I can open it by myself, you know. I also do not view you as a glucose parent—especially when we consider the fact that your card declined on the meal you were treating me to.” 

You gasp at the mention of that, reaching out and gently slapping his shoulder in retaliation. He chuckles to himself at that, and he takes a sip of coffee as you start to complain about the fact that he promised to never speak of that instance again. 

Glancing around the room as you rant to him, you squint at some of your classmates who are still choosing to stare at the two of you. You knew he suddenly realized everyone’s eyes were on him, and you tried your best to distract him—which thankfully worked. Your eyes trail over towards the doorway to the classroom, and you let out a breath of relief when you don’t find Jaehyun standing by the door anymore. 

Looking back into Jeonghan’s eyes, you raise an eyebrow, “How would you feel if I just blatantly stated that you punched the claw machi–” 

“Okay! Okay, I understand. I’ll never speak of it again.” Jeonghan cuts off immediately, and you let out a laugh at the fact that that was all you needed to mention for him to butt in. He rolls his eyes and opens his coffee, raising it up towards you slightly, “Thank you, yn.” 

You shrug your shoulders with a teasing smile, “Of course, Jeonghan. I know you’re fighting to stay awake everyday during class.” 

The blonde nods his head at this and takes a sip of his coffee, before placing it down on the desk. He’s about to talk to you more, only to stop when the sound of your teacher’s voice rings throughout the room. You stand up from his desk to see your teacher entering the room while discussing the lesson plan for the day, and you quickly wave bye to Jeonghan before rushing over to your seat. 

You greet Yeji as you sit down, and she wiggles her eyebrows at you in response. Tilting your head at her greeting, she just nudges you in the ribs and gestures over towards the front of the room. You squint at her, wondering what she’s trying to say as you whisper, “What?” 

She nudges you again, and you swat her elbow away with a frown growing on your face. Your friend giggles at your annoyance, before whispering, “What is going on between you and the pretty boy over there?”

You roll your eyes, “His name is Jeonghan.” 

“Ah, how’d you already know I was talking about Jeonghan?” You pause at the question, internally cursing at the fact that she caught you. Turning to face Yeji, you let out a sigh when you see the smug expression on her face as she wiggles her eyebrows at you again. Without a word, you reach out and slap her shoulder, eliciting a squeak from her that captures the attention of your teacher.

“Yn and Yeji, either be quiet and listen to the lecture or spend an extra hour cleaning the classroom after school.” 

You and Yeji quickly turn to face the front of the room, and you move to pull out your journal and pencil case from your bag. Seemingly satisfied, your teacher nods her head and turns back towards the board to continue the lesson. Looking up from your bag, you end up locking eyes with Jeonghan, and you squint when you see the mirth in his gaze. 

Face the front, you mouth to him, to which the corner of his lips just quirks upwards in response. He turns back around in his seat, and you look back down at your journal and open it up to a new page. A hand darts out and scribbles a note on the top left corner of the page, and you bite back a laugh at the message Yeji had written.

This conversation isn’t over! We’re talking about it at lunch!

A hard slam of a lunch tray being placed in front of you makes you jump up in your seat, looking up to find Yeji standing across from you, a cheshire-like smile on her face as she moves to sit in the chair. You let out a groan at the fact that the conversation really wasn’t over like you were wishing it was. 

“Now we can get down to business. Tell me why you’re suddenly so interested in the quietest boy in school?” Yeji asks, and you choke on your saliva, coughing into your arm to try and calm down. You reach out and desperately chug some water, before slamming the metal cup onto the table while shooting your friend a glare. “You really wasted no time, huh?” 

Yeji shrugs, “I’m not the type to beat around the bush—you of all people know that.” 

“You got me there.” You say, deciding to pick up your chopsticks to eat more of your lunch before adding, “Jeonghan and I were best friends when we were kids, and I wanted to rekindle that before we start applying to college.” 

“You guys were friends? I can’t imagine you being friends with someone that quiet.” Yeji says through a mouthful of rice. You roll your eyes, pointing at her with your chopsticks, “Don’t speak with your mouth full! And why not? Some people are just quiet before you get to know them.”

Yeji hums in agreement with this, taking a sip of her water as she gazes around the cafeteria. After she finishes chewing the food in her mouth, she turns back to you, “Yeah, but Jeonghan is quiet. He doesn’t have any friends in this school, nor any social media for that matter. He’s practically a ghost—a handsome one, though. No one’s been able to get through to him since sophomore year, so this is the first time we’ve seen him talk to someone.” 

You just shove a spoonful of rice into your mouth, feeling yourself growing more annoyed the longer the conversation goes on. Is this how your classmates viewed Jeonghan? It’s almost as if no one sees him as a human being, but some strange entity just because he’s quiet. 

“I mean, you’d think with a face as beautiful as his, he’d be going around confidently like Jaehyun, or something. I remember him not being this quiet in freshman year, but something must’ve happened over that summer leading into sophomore year to make him so closed off.” Yeji recounts, looking off to the side in thought as she tries to remember more about Jeonghan. Your ears perk up at the mention of sophomore year, and your eyebrows furrow as you try to search your memories of the blonde.

Yeji claps her hands suddenly, making you look at her with raised eyebrows as she points at you with her spoon. “He bleached his hair suddenly in sophomore year too! I almost thought he was a trainee for an idol group, but I guess he just wanted to become blonde. He definitely captured a lot of peoples’ attention afterwards though, but everyone became uninterested when they found out how quiet he is.” 

You tilt your head at this, suddenly remembering when you saw his bright head of blonde hair in the hallways for the first time. You may be a bit annoyed by how Yeji’s been speaking of him, but you were given some more insight into when Jeonghan first started to change. 

Looking off to the side, you press your lips into a thin line and stand up from the table. Yeji looks up at you with a curious gaze, wondering why you’re attempting to leave lunch already. You gesture towards the exit, “I forgot that I need to talk to the teacher about my college essay. I’ll see you in class.” 

Giving her a small smile, you turn around and walk away without hearing her response. You bite the inside of your cheek once you leave the cafeteria, feeling a bit guilty at how you definitely showed your annoyance towards the conversation with the way you abruptly left. 

You’re frustrated. How could your classmates talk about Jeonghan like this when they don’t even know him? They don’t know what he’s going through, or if something’s wrong because they never reached out to ask. They just decided to make up stories and outcast him, which led to that fateful day…

You stop in your tracks, staring down at the floor as guilt washes over you. 

You’re not frustrated at your classmates for gossiping instead of reaching out to Jeonghan when he needed someone the most, no. 

You’re mad at yourself, because you were one of them. 

You saw all the signs, you knew something had changed in your childhood best friend. Yet, you never reached out. 

You only tried when it was too late.

A pained chuckle escapes you as you tilt your head up towards the ceiling, and you run a hand over your face as you mutter, “I’m such a hypocrite.” 

Biting your bottom lip, you look down towards the ground. 

This is no time for self-hatred, you think to yourself as you begin to head towards the classroom again. You came back for a reason. You wished every year since you turned 18 for Jeonghan to get a second chance, and you'd be damned if he didn’t get that because you started to focus too much on blaming yourself. 

“I can do this.” You murmur as you turn the corner and enter the classroom, and you feel your heart stop within your chest at the sight before you. 

Jeonghan is sitting on the windowsill, the sunlight peering in through the curtains and hitting his face as he stares out the window. His blonde hair glows underneath the light, making him look more ethereal than usual. However, above all else, he looks tired. From the dark bags under his eyes, to the look of pure exhaustion in his gaze as he looks out at the soccer field. 

You quietly wonder how long he must’ve felt like this in the past, and how you just chose to overlook it. You haven’t seen this side of him since you started to commence your plan, but it makes you question what goes on in his head when the two of you aren’t together. Biting the inside of your cheek, you lightly knock on the desk to capture his attention. 

He slowly turns his head in your direction, and you let out a small smile when the two of you lock eyes. You watch as an indecipherable emotion flashes past his eyes, and he raises his hand up to wave at you as he stands up from the windowsill. 

“Did you eat?” You ask as you make your way over to him, and he nods his head while glancing out the window again. Slipping in-between the desks, you step over and sit on the windowsill right beside him, turning to see what he might be looking at. 

You see a group of students playing soccer on the field, with your other classmates sitting on the bleachers either chatting or watching the impromptu game that happens during lunch every time the weather is nice. Leaning your head against the window, you turn back towards Jeonghan to see him looking at you instead, and you fight back the urge to suck in a breath from surprise. 

“Yn, are you still bad at soccer?” Jeonghan asks suddenly, and your initial surprise turns into annoyance as you roll your eyes at the question. You notice the corner of his lips quirk upward at your reaction, and he rests his temple against the window like you. 

“You know that I play forward in our school’s soccer team, right?” You respond with a raised eyebrow, and he just shrugs his shoulders. “All I can remember is you falling backwards when you attempted to kick a soccer ball for the first time.” 

“I was ten! Ten years old! And I was just trying to prove you wrong since you were acting all cocky cause you joined the soccer team then!” You argue, eliciting a grin from the blonde as he waves a hand at you. You scowl at him, turning back towards the window to watch as some of your classmates dribble the ball down the field. 

“I was cocky for good reason. You know that I was good when we were younger.” Jeonghan says, and you glance at him with a slight pout to your lips. There’s a sense of nostalgia from his expression as he watches the soccer game occurring on the field, and maybe even a bit of longing? 

Does he miss playing soccer?

“I bet I’m better than you now.” You taunt, and he snorts, turning to you with an amused expression on his face. “Yeah?” 

You nod your head, feeling a bit relieved that your method of challenging him might be working. Acting nonchalant, you shrug your shoulders and cross your arms over your chest. “Yeah, you don’t know how well I play now. Who knows? Maybe I can beat you if we play a match.” 

The blonde stares into your eyes for a moment, before leaning in a bit more, and you instantaneously suck in a breath at the sudden close proximity. The corner of his lips quirks upwards, 

“Alright. Let’s play 1v1 after school.” 

And a victorious smile spreads over your face as you nod your head in agreement right as the bell rings, signaling that lunch is over.

“Get ready to lose, Yoon Jeonghan.”

“What the fuck. There’s no way… there’s no way you’re winning right now.” You pant, hands on your knees as you try to catch your breath while Jeonghan chugs water beside you. He lets out a satisfied breath after gulping the water, popping the lid back on as he turns to look at you with a grin on his face. 

“Maybe you can pull a Praise Marty or something, I don’t remember the name.” 

“Hail Mary, Jeonghan.” 

The blonde lets out an, ah!, and snaps his fingers after you correct him. He nods his head and points at you, “That’s right! Wow, how could I forget?” 

You roll your eyes jokingly and stand back up at your full height, stretching your arms over your head as you stare at Jeonghan’s goalpost. You turn towards the pretty man beside you and shoot him a glare as your arms lower back to your sides, “You’re being cocky again. What if I manage to get two points ahead of you and win the game? Then I get the right to be a cocky bastard.” 

Jeonghan shrugs his shoulders and starts to head back towards the middle of the field, “You can try your best, cause I’m not going to make that an easy feat for you.”

“I’d be offended if you were being easy on me, so good.” You tell him, a chuckle escaping past his lips from that. Following him, you stand on the other side of the soccer ball, the two of you staring each other down with the competitive spirit clear in his gaze. 

“You know if I make another goal then I win, right?” Jeonghan asks with a small smile ghosting his features, and you nod your head while feigning being hurt from his teasing. “Yoon Jeonghan, you’re damaging my pride by not knowing that I’m one of the best players on our school’s soccer team.” 

“Maybe I just wanted to humble you.” The blonde replies, and you tilt your head at him. 

Smiling, you say, “I think you’re the one that needs to be humbled.” before stepping past him and stealing the ball. You dribble the ball down the field, with Jeonghan following closely behind you to try and steal it back. You’re insanely focused on the game, feeling a rush of adrenaline flow through you as you relish in the feeling of playing your beloved sport again. 

After Jeonghan died, you quit playing altogether.

Right when you’re about to make an attempt to kick the ball into the net, you let out a shriek when Jeonghan suddenly steals the ball from you and runs down the field with it. You quickly follow after him, trying to run past him to take it back when he suddenly makes a long range kick. 

And it hits the top left corner of the net. 

“YES!” Jeonghan exclaims, raising his arms up in victory as he cheers. You rest your hands on your knees to catch your breath as he celebrates, awe flooding you at the fact that he was able to make such a shot when he hasn’t played the sport in years. 

“Jesus Christ, Jeonghan. Why aren’t you on the soccer team? Our school would’ve had twice as many trophies with you on the team!” You say with wide eyes, and the sweaty blonde just shrugs his shoulders as he lifts up his shirt to wipe the sweat dripping down his face. 

“I’m not that interested in soccer anymore.” Jeonghan answers tiredly, and you turn to see the faraway look in his eyes at that answer. Biting the inside of your cheek, you let out a loud groan and raise your arms up to stretch. 

“Maybe you don’t need to be humbled then. Maybe the smugness is deserved.” You joke in an attempt to distract him from his thoughts, and he snorts. He turns to you, eyes now filled with humor as he responds, “I told you so.” 

“Woah, woah, woah, hotshot. Since you won this game of soccer, why don’t you go and fetch my soccer ball and then I’ll prepare our bags.” You say with a grin, and the blonde chuckles. 

“You don’t want to walk all the way to the goal, do you?”

“Nope. My legs feel like they’re about to collapse, so you’re in charge of getting my soccer ball.” 

Jeonghan just rolls his eyes jokingly at your teasing, but jogs over to the net to get the soccer ball. The corner of your lips quirks upward, before turning and heading over to the benches and picking up your guys’ stuff. Throwing your bag over your shoulder, you snatch Jeonghan’s bag and sweatshirt and walk over to the exit of the field where he’s waiting for you. 

“You want your sweatshirt? You’re looking pretty cold now that we’re not running around.” You ask as the two of you walk off the field, and the blonde nods his head as he places the soccer ball into your bag. You extend your arm and hand over his sweatshirt, which he gratefully takes and throws on. After he puts his arms through the sleeves, he takes his bag from your grasp and puts it on, before taking your bag off and throwing it over his shoulder. 

Blinking in surprise, you point to your bag, “I can carry it—”

“I got it, don’t worry.” 

Warmth floods your face at the act of kindness, and you can’t help the small smile that forms on your face as you turn away to look at your surroundings. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you head in the direction of your homes, with the sound of dried leaves flying across the pavement and cars driving by filling the silence.

“You know, you’re really good at soccer. I was struggling a bit playing against you.” Jeonghan tells you after a moment, and you let out a smile at the compliment. “It feels great to hear you say that, especially when you’re like, my biggest inspiration behind starting the sport.” 

The blonde tilts his head at this, having not known this piece of information as he glances at you with a raised eyebrow, “Why am I your biggest inspiration when all I did was make fun of you for falling backwards while trying to kick a soccer ball?” 

You scoff at the mention of your origin with the sport, and he chuckles at your reaction. He waits patiently for you to answer his question, looking at you expectantly as the two of you walk slowly underneath the night sky. 

“I thought you were so cool when we were younger, I wanted to do whatever you did.” You begin, a small smile playing on your lips as you think of all the hobbies you picked up because of Jeonghan. He listens intently, waiting for you to continue as you let out a breath. “Whether it be Pokémon, WiiSports, or even you eating more vegetables cause you wanted to be healthier. I wanted to do it all, but when I went to your first soccer game when we were 10, I thought you were so cool.” 

Jeonghan blinks at your honesty, watching as your eyes practically sparkle as the memory plays inside your head. He remembers that day too, all the way down to the bright red jersey of his you were wearing, and the flowers you were holding. The corner of his lips quirks upwards when he remembers you handing him the flowers, apologizing for how they looked since they lost all their petals because of how much you were jumping and cheering for him. 

It’s one of the memories he cherishes most. 

“I had never seen you more in your element than I did watching you play soccer. You were the coolest guy ever to me, and I was so inspired that I immediately asked my mom to sign me up for soccer lessons behind your back to surprise you.” You explain, and the blonde chuckles lightly as he turns to you with a teasing grin on his face. 

“You don’t think I’m cool anymore?” 

“Jeonghan,” You begin, and the blonde feels his heart stutter slightly in his chest at how serious you look after his question. Reaching out to rest a hand on his shoulder, you give him a small smile, 

“I think you’re the coolest person ever.” 

Jeonghan stares at you in silence, and you watch as an indecipherable emotion flashes past his eyes. He bites the inside of his cheek after a moment, and turns away as he lets out a small cough into his elbow. You quietly wonder to yourself if that was too much all at once, or if you made him uncomfortable as the two of you start to walk in silence again.

Oh no, we’ve been making so much progress too, you think to yourself as you turn away. Your worries disappear shortly after, however, when Jeonghan finally mutters, 

“Thank you, yn.” 

And you smile softly to yourself when you glance at the blonde to see the tinge of red painting his cheeks as he tries to hide his appearance from you. Letting out a quiet giggle, you nod your head and glance back up towards the night sky, seeing the moon shine down onto the both of you,

“Always, Jeonghan.”

“Yn, do you think you can help me out this weekend?” You turn to Jeonghan with wide eyes as you lower the banana milk from your lips, blinking slowly as you let his question sink in.

This is the first time he suggested we hang out in the month that we’ve been getting close, you think to yourself as the blonde suddenly becomes very interested in the metal railings of the staircase. Realizing you haven’t answered him yet, you quickly swallow the milk, “W-With what?”

I stuttered. I fucking stuttered, you internally curse as Jeonghan shoots you a glance with a nervous grin. Running a hand through his hair, he points to his head, and you raise an eyebrow at what he’s trying to insinuate. 

Your mouth suddenly drops open when a thought comes to mind, and you raise a hand to your mouth as you let out a loud gasp. Jeonghan blinks at you, and you point to him with your mouth agape, “Are you enlisting already?!” 

The blonde sputters at your question, and chugs some of his canned coffee before violently shaking his head. With wide eyes he wipes the back of his mouth and points at you, “No! How did you even come to that conclusion?!” 

“Because you just suddenly pointed to your head! I thought you were going to ask me to shave your head for you.” You say as you cover your mouth, feeling relief and a bit of embarrassment flood you as you stare at the pretty man before you. He lets out a sigh and nudges your knee with his, “I was going to ask you to help retouch my roots and color my hair, doofus.” 

You blink, ignoring the name he called you to ask, “Color your hair?”

Jeonghan nods his head as he looks down the staircase, “Yeah, just a temporary hair color. I only need it for this weekend.” 

“Is that good for your hair?” You joke, and the blonde nudges your knee with his again. He leans his head towards your face, and you feel warmth flood your cheeks when the faint scent of strawberries registers in your senses. He pats the top of his head, “You can feel my hair. I think it still feels pretty soft for someone who’s been bleaching it for the last two years.” 

You snort at his statement, before tentatively lifting up your hand and patting the top of his head. He’s not wrong in what he said. His hair still feels quite soft for the amount of chemicals he’s used on his hair, but it definitely isn’t at its healthiest state either. 

Too focused on your own thoughts, you failed to notice that you’ve been silently stroking his hair instead of just patting it a couple of times. Jeonghan slowly lifts up his head until he’s looking into your eyes, ready to tease you for initially thinking his hair wasn’t soft, only to freeze. Your hand stops its movement on top of his head as well when the two of you lock eyes, the sound of your heartbeat becoming the only thing you can hear. 

You never failed to notice how ethereal Jeonghan is, it was something you knew since the two of you were children. And yet, you still find yourself in a state of awe whenever you end up looking at him from this close-up. 

“Pretty.” You whisper subconsciously, and Jeonghan blinks at you in shock as heat immediately rises to his face. You blink as well, only to let out a quiet gasp and retract your hand. You scoot over a bit and grab your banana milk, practically chugging the whole drink to try and soothe your fast beating heart. 

Setting the container down onto the step, you let out a cough into your elbow before standing up from the step abruptly. Jeonghan’s turned away from you, cheeks flushed pink at what just occurred. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you point towards the direction of the classroom, 

“Just text me the details for this weekend. I’ll be, uh, taking my leave.” 

Rushing up the steps, you walk down the hallway and repeatedly slap your forehead while cursing yourself out for letting that slip. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why would you say that out loud? And who the fuck says I’ll be taking my leave?! Stupid!” 

While Jeonghan remains on the step, blinking as the moment replays in his head on loop as warmth rushes up his face. 

Jeonghan can practically hear his own heartbeat in his ears with how loudly it’s beating against his chest. He didn’t realize how close the two of you were to each other, but for some reason, he doesn’t want to pull away just yet. 

Their eyes are so bright, he thinks to himself as his eyes gaze into yours. It’s something he’s noticed since he was a child. You always seemed to shine whenever he saw you, a characteristic that seemed to have stuck with you to this point. 

He swallows the growing lump in his throat, staring at you as the cruel reminder floats into his mind. 

Your light, he doesn’t want to take that from you.

Clenching his fist, he moves to scoot back when one word escapes past your lips, causing him to stop in his tracks. 

“Pretty.” 

Jeonghan slowly raises his hands to cup his hot face, and the smallest of smiles forms on his face at the memory. 

The warmth in his heart lingers until it’s nighttime and he’s laying in bed, staring up at the night sky out the window as he compares whether the billions of stars in the sky are brighter than your eyes. 

As he finally succumbs to sleep, he finds that the answer is you. 

You’re brighter than all the stars in the sky combined.

February 9, 2019 

You place your phone back onto your bedside table with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling as you silently think to yourself, two more months. 

You have two more months to convince Jeonghan to stay, that he is more precious than he could ever imagine. 

“I think I’m making progress.” You mutter to yourself as you sit up in your bed, scratching the back of your neck as you climb off the mattress and walk out of your bedroom. In the first month you and Jeonghan have been hanging out, it’s only ever been you asking him to do things and him obliging (with a little bit of encouragement from you).

Him asking you to hangout today is a big step in your eyes, because it’s something that he planned. 

Picking up your toothbrush, you apply toothpaste onto the bristles and start brushing your teeth while making sure to send the blonde a good morning text like you always do. A small smile forms on your face when Jeonghan’s text comes in a moment later, and you set your phone down to continue getting ready.

you: good morning jeonghan ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

jeonghannie: morning yn 

 ₍ᐢ.ˬ.⑅ᐢ₎

You ring the doorbell to Jeonghan’s home, letting out a breath to try and rid yourself of the anxiety you feel as you stand on his doorstep. You know his house better than the back of your hand, and he’s the same with yours. The two of you always hungout at each other’s houses when you were younger, so you shouldn’t feel so nervous. 

Except, the last time you went to Jeonghan’s house was after he died. 

Before your thoughts could go any further, the front door opens, and you find yourself staring into the pretty brown eyes of the boy you came back in time for. His long blonde hair is a bit messy on his head, and he’s wearing an old oversized shirt that has numerous colors painted on it from previous hair dyes. The corners of his lips quirk upwards slightly at the sight of you, and you raise your hand up to give him a timid wave.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” 

The two of you stand there for a second longer, before Jeonghan steps to the side and gestures towards the inside of his house. “Come in. I was preparing the bleach already.” 

Nodding your head, you slip off your shoes and step inside the house. You put on the fuzzy slippers that he placed on the floor for you, and follow him down the hallway as you gaze around at your surroundings.

Almost everything is the same in the house from when you last visited in the past, but the atmosphere is different. 

After Jeonghan passed, the air was thick within the space. The curtains were drawn so there was no natural light entering through the windows. All the photos with Jeonghan that were hung up on the walls were too painful to look at, and one glance would send someone into tears. 

So you tried not to look.

But the one photo you were forced to see was the large framed picture of him taken from the funeral home. It was placed in the living room, a candle on each side of it with sticks of incense you could light placed before him. 

It was a sight that made your heart stop, because you quickly came to the realization that he had taken this photo only days prior from the sight of his retouched roots.

“Yn.” Your head snaps away from the living room and towards the blonde in the kitchen. His eyes are filled with a bit of concern, and you quickly realize that he must’ve been calling your name for the last minute or so. 

“Oh, sorry. I spaced out there, what was the question?” You ask as you hurry over to him, and he opens his fridge and pulls out a carton of banana milk. Waving it in front of your face, he asks, “You want some?” 

He watches as your eyes brighten from the sight of the drink, and he holds back a chuckle when you slowly nod your head with a growing smile on your face. Handing you the drink, he gestures over towards the stairs, “We’ll bleach my hair in the upstairs bathroom. My mom doesn’t want me to use the downstairs bathroom in case I make a mess.” 

Popping the straw through the seal, you take a sip of the drink and nod your head at what he said, “I mean, it makes sense since guests would use that bathroom the most.” 

Jeonghan nods as the two of you start making your way upstairs, and he steps into the bathroom with you following after him. You crinkle your nose when the strong scent of bleach floods your sense of smell, and the blonde grins at your obvious disgust as he mixes the concoction. 

“I know, the smell is too strong right?” Jeonghan asks, and you nod your head while giving him an apologetic smile. He gestures over towards the drawer, “I put a mask in there for you cause I felt like you’d want to wear it while doing my hair. I know that you don’t like strong scents like this.” 

Lowering the banana milk from your lips, you feel your heart thump against your chest at the fact that he remembered something as small as that. Biting back a smile, you open the drawer and take out the mask, putting it on without a second to waste. 

Setting your drink down onto the counter, you reach past him and take the pair of gloves that he laid out for you. Putting them on your hands, you wiggle your fingers around to get used to the feeling of the tight plastic, before looking at Jeonghan in the mirror. 

He’s busy adding things to the mixture with a concentrated look on his face. Leaning against the counter, you take note of his hair being long enough to start curling around the back of his neck. Your gaze trails up his features, from the slight pout to his lips, to his pointed nose, and to the black roots of his hair beginning to appear on the top of his head.

His eyes glance up in the mirror and lock with yours, catching you staring at him. You blink out of your daze, and immediately turn away to point towards the chair behind Jeonghan, “Sit down so that I can start bleaching your hair!” 

The blonde chuckles at you avoiding eye contact, and nods his head as he sits on the chair in front of the mirror. Sucking in a deep breath, you rest your hands on Jeonghan’s shoulders and look at him in the mirror, “You know that I charge $100 per hour, right?” 

“Ah, your card is still declining, huh?” 

You bite your lip at his joke, slapping his shoulder before reaching out and grabbing the bowl of bleach. He lets out a giggle at your reaction, before beginning to tell you that you have to clip up his hair in layers and apply the bleach from the bottom layer to the top. 

“I should just bleach your eyebrows for that joke you made.” You say as you run your hands through his hair to start sectioning the layers. You watch as he looks down to hide his smile, and you reach under his chin to tilt his face up towards the mirror. He blinks at you, seeing the warm look on your face as you tell him, “Your smile is pretty, don’t hide it from me.”

Feeling warmth flood up his face, he turns away and picks up another hair clip for you. He places it in your hand without a response, and pulls out his phone as his cheeks begin to turn a pretty shade of pink at your comment.

Smiling to yourself, you put the last clip in his hair and pick up the bowl and brush again. Dipping the brush in the bleach, you start to place it on the roots of Jeonghan’s hair as a comfortable silence falls over the two of you. As you move through each section, you watch as the blonde plays a niche game on his phone while you occasionally ask a question about the game.

“So, essentially, you’re just a gorilla flying through trying to avoid the obstacles.”

“Mhm.”

“And you can’t hit the ducks, but you can hit the pigs. However, it’s better to avoid the pigs cause you don’t think you actually gain anything when you fly through the pigs.” 

“Yup.”

“And you found out about this game where?” 

“I got an ad for it online and thought it looked funny.” Jeonghan replies with a sigh after he accidentally flies into the duck. He looks up into his reflection when an ad begins to play on his screen, already seeing his roots turning into that initial orange color before the toner. You chuckle, silently thinking that that is a very Jeonghan thing to do as you start on the last layer of his hair. 

“Why do you bleach your hair? I think your hair might need a bit of a break.” You ask as you place the chemicals on his roots, and you watch as his thumb freezes over his screen, causing the gorilla to fly into an obstacle. You let out a low whistle when his score pops up, seeing that he was close to beating his record before you asked the question.

“That’s my bad. That’s my bad for real.” Jeonghan lets out a quiet chuckle at your words, placing his phone down onto the counter so that he can look at his hair in the mirror. As you finish placing the bleach on his roots, you sneak a glance into your reflection to see a faraway look in his eyes as he stares down at the counter.

It’s the same look you noticed that day during lunch, when he was sitting on the windowsill staring out at the field.

“Do you remember my younger sister? How she always used to bother us when you came over because she wanted to do whatever we were doing?” Jeonghan asks in a soft voice, causing you to pause and look up at him in the mirror. A small smile graces your features as you remember his baby sister, and you nod your head. “How could I ever forget about Jisoo? She was the cutest baby I’ve ever seen! How is she doing now? I didn’t see her when I came in.” 

The corner of the blonde’s lips quirks upwards at your questions, but there’s no hint of humor or happiness in his eyes. He fiddles with his hands as he quietly begins, “When Jisoo was younger, she always dreamed of becoming a hairstylist one day. My parents wanted her to strive to be a doctor or a teacher, but she was always more passionate about hair.”

He smiles softly at the memory, and you slowly begin to dread what he could possibly say as the smile begins to fall from his face. Biting the inside of his cheek, he confesses,

“She was diagnosed with stage 4 leukemia when she was 12 years old.” 

You feel your throat tighten up at the news, disbelief flooding you as you silently wonder how you never knew of this before. Your parents and Jeonghan’s parents were still friends back then and in the present, how could you have not known of this? 

Jeonghan presses his lips into a thin line, letting out a sigh as he gestures towards his hair, “When the doctors told us that the treatment wasn’t working and to prepare for the worst, I bleached my hair and started to grow it out. Since she lost her hair, I thought that the least I could do is become her canvas. Help her with her passion before…” 

You watch as the blonde trails off, coughing into his elbow and shrugging his shoulders. The both of you know what he was going to say, but neither of you can bring yourselves to voice it out either. 

Jeonghan scratches the back of his neck as he quietly adds, “It’s why I quit playing soccer. My family isn’t well off, but we make enough to be comfortable. I knew that soccer was an expensive sport, so I decided to give it up in order to help fund Jisoo’s treatment.” 

You feel tears pricking the back of your eyes at his confession, the pieces of the puzzle slowly beginning to come together in your head. 

All of the signs that you noticed but failed to acknowledge in the past. From his sudden blonde hair, to the slow descent of closing himself off to the rest of the world, to the pure exhaustion in his eyes whenever you saw him. It all must’ve gone downhill when Jisoo was diagnosed. 

And you never thought to check in with him, only making an attempt when it was far too late.

“I-I didn’t know.” You choke out, your vision beginning to blur as you try to hide your emotions by burying yourself into bleaching Jeonghan’s hair. The blonde just shrugs again, an action you noticed he does often when he’s trying to act like everything is fine. “I didn’t tell anyone, and my parents have only told a few family members as well. Jisoo wanted it to be kept quiet, and I know if she was older, she definitely would’ve kept it from us.” 

“Why do you think she’d do that?” You ask, reaching up to wipe away the tears in your eyes with the back of your hand. Jeonghan bites the inside of his cheek, a faraway look in his eyes as he quietly replies, 

“It’s easier to let everyone think you’re fine in your last moments, rather than have them feel pain and worry.” 

You’re unable to stop the tears from escaping your eyes at his words, and you quickly place the bleach concoction down onto the counter as you turn away from the blonde. Jeonghan glances up at you in the mirror, seeing you quickly wiping at your eyes and adjusting the mask over your face. 

“Yn? Are you okay–”

“I-I’m fine.” You speak, and he feels part of himself crumble when he sees your red eyes and the wet marks on your mask. “Yn, you’re crying.” 

Shaking your head, you raise your hands up to cover your face as you turn towards the wall when you hear the blonde stand up from the stool. 

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be crying when you’re the one who’s going through a hard time.” You say through your tears, wiping at your eyes to try and stop the tears from falling. You’re overwhelmed by all the emotions you’re feeling, the ones that you kept at bay in order to stay focused on Jeonghan flooding to the surface from his one sentence alone.

How much pain must he have felt before going through with what he did? 

“I’m so sorry, Jeonghan.” You cry out, feeling the sobs beginning to bubble up in your chest, refusing to turn and look at him as you try to calm down. Jeonghan feels like his own heart is breaking as he watches you cry, unsure as to why you’re apologizing as he tentatively reaches out and rests a hand on your shoulder. 

“Yn, come here.” 

You shake your head, reaching up and covering your face as you make an attempt to suck in deep breaths. The blonde bites the inside of his cheek, before he finally just reaches out and wraps his arms around you from behind. 

“Shhh, it’s okay. It’s not your fault, yn. You didn’t know.” Jeonghan whispers as he rubs your shoulders, trying to calm you down. You suck in a shaky breath at his words, feeling more guilt flood you as the tears continue to fall past your eyes. 

With shaky hands, you reach up and rest them over his arms wrapped around you. You shut your eyes tightly as you feel his chest rise and fall from behind you, trying to match his breathing as he holds you.

You don’t know how you came back in time, or how this is even possible. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to even care about finding out the answers to those questions.

You’re standing here in this bathroom that reeks of bleach, being held by an 18 year old Jeonghan while tears slowly descend down your face. As the feeling of his breath hits your neck with the rise and fall of his chest from behind you, you allow yourself to soak in this moment of just how alive he is. 

You slowly open your eyes and stare up at the ceiling, only one thought on your mind as you slightly squeeze his arms that are in your grasp.

Jeonghan is going to live. Whatever it takes.

“Are you sure she’d be comfortable enough to see me again? I know you said that you kept this within the family.” You ask the blonde as the two of you walk down the hallway of the hospital, feeling your heart beat a bit faster the closer you get to the room. 

After you calmed down from your breakdown, you helped Jeonghan rinse and tone his hair. It was when you were combing through his hair that he had asked you if you wanted to come visit Jisoo with him, and you almost immediately said yes.

Now you’re feeling a bit anxious about having agreed.

“She always considered you as an older sibling when we were younger. I think she’d be surprised, but she’ll be happy to see you.” Jeonghan answers once the two of you stop in front of a room with a closed door. You bite your bottom lip, and turn to glance into the small window, just to feel your heart thump against your chest at the sight of Jisoo laying in the hospital bed.

Her once long beautiful hair that used to go down to her waist is all gone, now replaced with a warm beanie resting atop her head. She’s obviously grown up since you last saw her when she was a child, with the way she’s matured into her features. The exhaustion is evident on her face, one that reminds you of Jeonghan. 

Except, the stars in her eyes when she was younger are still present now when she turns her head towards the two of you at the sound of the hospital door opening. 

A look of surprise appears on her face when she makes eye contact with you, only to almost immediately be replaced by a bright smile as she shouts your name in excitement. 

Relief and heartache floods you all at once at the pure joy on her face, and you quickly step away from Jeonghan to meet her halfway when she practically leaps off the bed to rush over to you. 

You feel her frail arms wrap around your middle as you gently catch her in your arms. She’s practically shaking from joy at the fact that you’re here, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Jeonghan as the blonde walks past the two of you with a small grin on his face. 

“It’s been so long! Oh my gosh, you got so pretty.” Jisoo says as she gazes up at you with a look of awe on her face. You feel warmth flood your face at the sudden compliment, and wave her off with your hand as a giggle escapes you, “Oh, please. I know when you were younger you always wanted to be a princess, but I think you’ve really grown to be as beautiful as one.”

The biggest smile forms on Jisoo’s face at your compliment, and you feel your heart pang against your chest as you gently pat the top of her head. You’re full of admiration for the youngest, the silent question of how she’s able to be so positive with her current situation floating at the back of your mind. 

“Alright, Jisoo. You haven’t seen your older brother in ten million years and you won’t even give him the time of day. I see how it is.” Jeonghan jokes from the chair he’s resting on as he stares at you and Jisoo with an indecipherable emotion in his gaze. Jisoo chuckles and turns towards her brother with a raised eyebrow, “I saw you yesterday, Yoon Jeonghan. Yn? I haven’t seen them in years. I think it’s clear who I’d go to first.” 

“Your coldness hurts, my dear sister. I should at least be receiving a thank you for bringing yn.” 

“Shouldn’t you be thanking me when I’m the one who told you to talk–” 

Jisoo’s quickly pulled away from you and towards Jeonghan, who immediately places his hand over her mouth and shoots you a sheepish grin as he gestures over towards the bag of temporary hair dye the two of you bought. “Yn, can you go grab the stuff? I need to have a word with my sweet sister.” 

You bite back a laugh and nod your head, before stepping over towards the chairs, hearing the sound of Jisoo fighting back against the blonde’s hold. Reaching into the bag, you pull out the bottle of pink hair dye, before glancing back to find the two siblings arguing in hushed voices.

It’s a sight you haven’t seen in years, and one that you thought you’d never see again in this lifetime. There’s a warm smile forming on Jeonghan’s face as he reaches out and playfully shakes his younger sister in his arms, with Jisoo’s pretty laugh ringing in the air as she tries to swat his hands away. 

You find your gaze locked on the genuine smile adorning Jeonghan’s features, one that you haven’t seen during the time you’ve been spending time with him. You fail to notice the shy smile on your face as you watch the two interact, only realizing it when the blonde’s eyes suddenly trail back to you, and you quickly blink at the fact that you got caught staring. 

“Jisoo, let’s dye Jeonghan’s hair.” You say as you head towards the bathroom, warmth flooding your face when you can still feel the blonde’s eyes on you. 

Jisoo bites back a sly smile at the way Jeonghan’s gaze follows you until you disappear into the bathroom, and she nudges her brother in the stomach before following after you wordlessly. While Jeonghan stands there for a moment longer, listening to the sound of yours and Jisoo’s giggles begin to fill the room as you prepare the hair dye together.

“Yoon Jeonghan! Come here, it’s time to make you really look like an idol.” Jisoo calls out from the bathroom, gloves on her hands as she shoots him an excited smile. He’s about to scoff at her joke when your head suddenly pops out from behind her, a smile playing on your lips as you gesture for him to hurry up.  Letting out a sigh, he shoves his hands into the pocket of his hoodie and walks over to the two of you.

It’s half an hour later when you and Jisoo are working on the last layer of his hair that he finally glances up into the mirror to look at the both of you. He feels the corner of his lips quirk upwards at the sound of your laughter pouring out when his younger sister explains the story of her dying his hair for the first time, his eyes flooding with an indecipherable emotion as he stares at you. 

He looks back down at his phone when you suddenly glance up into the mirror and make eye contact with him, ignoring the way his heart thumps against his chest. He presses on the power button of his phone, silently staring at the date that flashes back at him.

February 9, 2019 

Jeonghan could argue that Winter is his least favorite season. He decided on that cold January evening three years ago when the news of Jisoo’s illness reached him. However, as he sits in this hospital bathroom, laughing with you and Jisoo at old childhood stories, he can’t help but wonder why he feels so warm during what’s supposed to be the coldest season of the year.

“Yn, do you think you can pass this to Jeonghan for me?” You glare down at the fifth box of chocolates that’s been given to you today, and you boredly look up at the random student that’s not even in your class. Waving a hand at the hopeful looking girl, you gesture behind you, “I’ll make sure he gets them.” 

“Oh my God, thank you so much!” You give the girl a half hearted wave, watching as she runs away soon after she bids you goodbye. Letting out a loud sigh, you turn around and walk over to your best friend’s desk, feeling bitter at the number of chocolates he had received today. 

It’s not even close to the end of the day!

“Here.” You grumble, placing the fifth box of chocolates you’ve received onto the table next to the other dozens of chocolates he had received from those who are a bit more brave about their feelings. Jeonghan lifts his head up from the desk and runs a hand through his wavy black hair, lifting up the new box of chocolates to inspect the package while you move to sit atop the table.

You never would’ve thought that Jeonghan would become so popular when you both reached middle school, let alone the fact that he was going to have such an insane glow-up as well. Both happened though, much to your surprise. You didn’t have a particular instance when you looked at your friend and gasped at the realization that he’s gorgeous. 

You had only learned on Valentine’s Day last year, when he had received over 15 chocolates from 15 different people, that your best friend is rather beautiful.

“Mm, here.” You glance down to see Jeonghan holding out the box of chocolates to you, and you scoff as you push his hand away. “I am not going to take your pity chocolates!” 

“You know that I’m not even going to eat all of these anyways, just take one box.” Jeonghan tells you, placing the box of chocolates onto your lap instead as he moves to rest his head on his desk. You quickly shove the box of chocolates under his head before he reaches the desk, and he lets out a grunt at the crinkly surface. 

He lifts his head back up and raises an eyebrow at you, “You know, you look awfully jealous for someone who says they don’t celebrate Valentine’s day.” 

“And you look awfully lonely for someone who got so many chocolates.” You counter, to which your best friend sighs and opens up the box of chocolates. You watch as he tosses one into his mouth, a grimace appearing on his face as he chews the sweet treat. You fight back a smile at his expression, quickly realizing that the person must’ve gifted him with milk chocolate instead of dark chocolate. He takes a sip of water to wash down the chocolate, before grabbing another piece and holding it out for you to take. Glaring at him, he waves his hand in your face for you to take it, and you sigh before leaning forward and letting him feed it to you. 

He stares at the furrow forming between your eyebrows as you chew on the sweet treat, and he rests his chin on the palm of his hand, “You don’t like chocolate?” 

You shrug, “It’s alright.” 

“What would you want instead of chocolates on White day?” Jeonghan asks as he sits up in his seat, reaching up and gently rubbing the furrow between your eyebrows until you relax your features. You shrug your shoulders again, glancing out the window as you murmur, “I’d much rather get a plushie or something.” 

“Oh? Is my one and only child confessing to someone on Valentine’s Day?” You’re snapped out of the fond memory at the sound of your mom’s teasing voice coming from behind you. Feeling warmth flood your face immediately, you turn towards your birth giver and squint at her, “Shouldn’t you be heading to work, my precious mother?” 

“I can spare a minute to tease my wonderful child that’s been single for almost 18 years of their life.” 

Ouch.

“That was so unprovoked, and for that reason, I will not be giving you any leftover chocolates.” You say with a glare, before turning back to remove the dark chocolates from the heart and bear shaped molds you bought. The corner of your lips curls upwards when you see that the chocolates look perfect, and you start to carefully place the chocolates into their wrappers. 

“You’re not even going to give me a name of who you’re confessing to?” Your mom asks with a grin as she reaches out and takes the chocolate you held out to her. You place the lid onto the box of chocolates and gently tie the bow, before turning to look at your mom, “Does it taste good?” 

Your mom chuckles, “They taste perfect, honey. Now can I get a name?” 

Your eyes trail over to the clock on the microwave, and you quickly step past your mom when you see that you have 25 minutes before school starts. Placing the box of chocolates into your bag, you quickly put on the straps of your backpack and wave to your mother.

“Bye mom! I’ll text you when I make it to school!” 

“Can you at least tell me what letter their name starts with?!” Your mom calls out to you from the kitchen table, to which you just smile and shut the front door.

You can’t be late to school on Valentine’s Day.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, yn!” 

“Happy love day!” 

“Did you greet Jaehyun happy birthday?”

You just bow your head kindly at all of the greetings, deciding not to answer the last question that was thrown at you as you walk down the hall. You’re determined to get to your classroom to surprise Jeonghan with the chocolates you made, but you seem to have forgotten how many people would want to greet you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” You practically jump back at the sudden greeting, and glance at the person who had thrusted their box of chocolates out towards you. A small smile takes over your features when you see the rising blush to her face as she waits for you to take them, and you take notice of the way the box is slightly shaking in her hands. You gently take it from her grasp and bow your head at her, “Thank you. Happy Valentine’s Day to you as well.” 

With that, you start heading towards your classroom again, but not without hearing the girl squeal excitedly with her friends. A quiet giggle escapes past your lips at that, already imagining how Jeonghan would react when you tell him about it later. 

With a skip to your step, you hurry over and open the door to your classroom, a smile forming on your face when you catch sight of that blonde head of hair at the front of the class. You’re about to walk over to Jeonghan when a warm hand grasps your wrist, and you quickly turn to find yourself staring at those familiar dimples of Jung Jaehyun. 

“Jae, hi. Happy birthday.” You greet with a friendly smile, and he lets his hand fall to his side once he has your attention on him. He smiles back and leans against your classroom’s door frame, “Thank you, yn. Wow, did you make those chocolates or did you get confessed to?” 

You glance down at the box of chocolates that were given to you in the hallway, and you let out a laugh and shake your head at him. “Nono, an underclassman just gave them to me a few minutes ago. She was really happy when I took them.” 

“What’s your answer to her confession?” Jaehyun asks with a knowing smile, and you shrug your shoulders. “I’m not interested, but I’m very flattered that she gave me chocolates.” 

“Oh? Has someone captured the heart of arguably one of the most popular people in school?” 

The question has warmth flooding your face, unable to bring yourself to answer who is supposedly the school’s heartthrob. In the past, you would’ve played into Jaehyun’s flirting, especially since the two of you had a lot in common. 

However, you find your eyes trailing over to the front of the class. Jeonghan’s head is still resting on the table, eyes closed as the morning sunlight shines into the classroom, casting a faint glow over the angel’s features as he sleeps. 

“Yeah, I guess so.” You murmur, a small smile forming on your face as you stare at the pretty blonde. You fail to notice the bit of surprise on Jaehyun’s face at your answer, and he follows the direction of your eyes. A sad smile forms on his face when he sees Yoon Jeonghan fast asleep on his desk, and that’s when he realizes that he doesn’t stand a chance with you anymore. 

“Well, I won’t keep you from delivering your chocolates then.” Jaehyun tells you, and you blink, turning to him with wide eyes. “How’d you know I made chocolates?” 

“From the look in your eyes, I think anyone can tell that you’re planning to confess. Whoever it is, they better realize how lucky they are.” The brunette says with a smile, and you giggle back and nod your head. You watch as he raises a hand up to wave at you, “I need to head off to class, but good luck. They’ll love the chocolates.” 

You grin, “Thank you, Jaehyun.” 

“Of course, yn. See you around.” 

Once Jaehyun turns and walks away, you turn around and walk over to your desk. You feel Yeji’s eyes on you, but you choose to ignore the mischievous expression on her face as you place your bag down onto your desk. 

“So, did Valentine boy confess to you?” Yeji teases, to which you just unzip your bag in response. 

“Come on, yn. You don’t need to hide it, you literally have a box of chocolates on your desk.” 

“An underclassman gave them to me in the hallway, not Jae.” You answer as you reach into your bag and pull out the carefully wrapped box of chocolates you made. Yeji’s eyes widen at the sight, and she lets out a big smile, “Oh my God. Are you confessing to Jaehyun?!” 

You don’t respond, and instead walk over to the front of the classroom without another word even though she hisses out your name. Once you find yourself standing in front of Jeonghan’s desk, you bite back a chuckle at the traces of pink still in his hair. 

“Yoon Jeonghan.” You state, and you feel your heart flutter within your chest when the blonde’s eyes slowly open from the sound of your voice. He blinks tiredly, and sits up from his desk while rubbing his eyes to rid himself of the exhaustion.

“Now why’d you bring out the full government name?” He asks with a teasing smile, and you suck in a deep breath to try and calm your crazy heart. Squeezing the box of chocolates you’re hiding behind your back, you sway from side to side as you try to muster the courage to hand them to him. “Just cause I knew it’d wake you up.” 

“You already know that you can say or do anything and it’d wake me up.” Jeonghan tells you with a chuckle as he takes a sip of water, and you quietly count to five in your head before thrusting out the box of chocolates you had made for him.

“W-What’s this?” The blonde asks with wide eyes, and you gently shake the box for emphasis. “You know damn well what it is considering your track record for this capitalistic holiday in middle school.”

Jeonghan stares at the box in shock, before looking back up into your eyes. He takes note of the way you can’t seem to stand still out of nervousness, an emotion he’s hardly seen in you during the years he’s known you. He bites the inside of his cheek when he sees the hope in your gaze, the genuinity pouring from your eyes as you wait for him to take the box from you.

He tentatively reaches up and takes the box from your grasp after a moment, and he carefully takes off the lid. A breath escapes him when he sees the beautiful chocolates sitting in the box, shapes ranging from the standard square to teddy bears and hearts. 

“They’re dark chocolate, I remembered that you weren’t much of a fan of milk chocolate when we were younger.” You murmur, silently cursing yourself for feeling so shy as heat floods your face the longer you stand in front of the blonde. You watch in silence as Jeonghan stares down at the chocolates, an indecipherable emotion in his eyes as he stays quiet.

He hates them, you think to yourself with embarrassment slowly flooding you. Biting the inside of your cheek, you move to tell him he doesn’t have to accept them when he finally looks back up into your eyes.  You’re rendered speechless at the sight of his warm smile that you haven’t seen in years, and your heart thumps against your chest when he says in a soft voice, 

“Thank you, yn. I love them.” 

You’re unable to control the smile that takes over your features, and you shrug your shoulders to try and appear nonchalant. However, the bright smile on your face betrays you, clearly showing that you’re ecstatic by the blonde’s reaction.

“I’m glad. Happy Valentine’s Day, Yoon Jeonghan.” You greet him warmly, and Jeonghan lets out a soft giggle that makes your heart swell within your chest. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, yn.” 

You lay on your bedroom floor, recounting the events of today with a small smile on your face. 

After you gave Jeonghan the chocolates, your teacher came in shortly after and started going over the lessons for the day. You were unable to concentrate though, due to both the sight of Jeonghan’s content reaction at the taste of the chocolates you had made for him, and Yeji aggressively nudging you with her shoulder out of excitement and curiosity of the budding relationship between you and the blonde.

It was only at lunch when Yeji was finally able to grill you on why you suddenly became close with Jeonghan, and when you started liking him.

“Yn, answer this honestly. Why did you suddenly start talking to Jeonghan?” 

A small chuckle escapes you as you place the spoonful of rice into your mouth, and you glance back up to see your friend waiting expectantly for your answer. Grinning, you shrug your shoulders and rest your chin on the palm of your hand, the sight of Jeonghan’s warm smile burned into the back of your eyes as you murmur,

“To fulfill my wish.” 

Letting out a breath, you roll over onto your side and shut your eyes to try and ingrain every single detail of Jeonghan’s smile into your brain so that you won’t forget the memory. It’s something too precious for you to ever forget.

Just as you’re about to roll over onto your back again, the sound of your doorbell ringing throughout your house makes you sit up from the floor. Blinking confusedly, you get up from the floor and walk out of your room. 

It’s a moment later when you’re standing in front of your door, that you slowly open it to find the blonde standing on your doorstep. His long blonde hair is tied back into a short ponytail, his frame covered by an oversized beige sweatshirt and black sweatpants. You raise an eyebrow at his hands placed strategically behind his back, and you glance up at him with a growing smile forming on your lips. 

“Jeonghan, what are you hiding?” 

“Wow, so you’re not even going to invite me in?” The blonde teases, to which you roll your eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t come in here like you own the place every other time.”

“This is true.” Jeonghan states, eliciting a giggle from you as you lean against the doorframe. 

The two of you stare at each other as a comfortable silence fills the air. You’re staring at his hands behind his back, watching as he shuffles from foot to foot as he looks at you with a shy grin on his face. Biting the inside of your cheek, you’re about to ask him what he’s doing here when suddenly, a big tan and teal ball is blocking your vision. 

Blinking your eyes to adjust, you let out a loud gasp when you realize Jeonghan’s holding out the big Snorlax plushie you were trying to win a month ago. You immediately take it from his grasp as you squeal excitedly, not feeling the least bit embarrassed by your reaction while you hold the Pokémon tight within your arms.

“Jeonghan! When?! How!?!” You’re unable to form a full sentence from how ecstatic you are over the Pokémon, and the blonde can’t help but giggle at you as he shrugs his shoulders to try and appear nonchalant. “After school today, I went to the arcade to win Snorlax. I got him in three tries.” 

You smile brightly at him, warmth flooding your face at the fact that he went out of his way to win you the beloved Pokémon. Hugging the plushie close to your chest, you lean forward to tease him, “So you decided to feed into capitalism, your sworn enemy?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes and leans against the railing of your porch as he stares into your pretty eyes, “So you’re telling me you don’t want your precious Snorlax?”

“No!” You exclaim, holding the Pokémon tighter to your chest when he reaches to take it away from you. He smiles at your reaction, before reaching out and patting the top of your head, making you halt. You stare at him with wide eyes, warmth flooding your face as Jeonghan slowly lets his hand fall back to his side as he murmurs,

“I thought I could feed into capitalism just this once if it meant I could see your reaction to finally holding Snorlax in your arms.”

You can only blink at the blonde as he grins at you, your mouth slightly agape as you try to process what just happened. Jeonghan chuckles, and raises his hand up to shoot you a wave as he moves to step off your porch, “Happy Valentine’s Day, yn. Thank you for the chocolates.”

And you slowly raise your hand to wave back at him, trying to fight back the dumb smile that’s fighting its way onto your face as you whisper back, 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Yoon Jeonghan.”

“Yn, you don’t need to bring me a gift every time you visit. You don’t even have a job!” 

“Okay. First, that was unprovoked. Second, this gift is different from the others!” You tell Jisoo with a small smile, and she squints at you. A giggle escapes you as you gesture for her to cover her eyes, and her frown deepens. A sigh leaves your lips as you mutter, “It’s times like this where you remind me of your brother.”

“Hey!” 

“It’s true.” You tell her, before gesturing for her to cover her eyes again. She huffs, before closing her eyes and raising her hands up to shield her vision. 

It’s currently one in the afternoon on Sunday, and you came to visit Jisoo without the blonde. Jeonghan doesn’t even know that you’ve come to visit his younger sister, but this also isn’t the first time you’ve visited her without the blonde’s knowledge. 

This time, however, is special. From the times you’ve come with Jeonghan on the weekends to help Jisoo dye the blonde’s hair to whatever color she requests, you quickly came to notice the slight sadness to her gaze whenever her hands raked through his long hair. With this, you saved up some of your allowance from your parents to buy Jisoo a wig. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you reach out and slowly take off the beanie that rests over Jisoo’s head. You take the wig of long brown hair out of the gift bag afterwards, and gently place it on top of Jisoo’s head. You take your time adjusting it to make sure that the bangs are perfectly placed, before taking a step back.

Reaching out to grab her bedside mirror, you hold it out towards her as you tell her to open her eyes. You watch with bated breath as her eyes that resemble that of her older brother’s slowly open, and a small smile forms on your face when you see her eyes fill with surprise at the sight before her. 

“I know you like doing Jeonghan’s hair, but I thought you’d also like to do your own hair sometimes.” You tell her softly, watching as Jisoo raises her shaky hands up to trail her fingers through the brown hair. Tears flood the brunette���s eyes as she strokes her hair, before she looks up at you with a bright smile on her face. 

“Yn, thank you.” Jisoo says with a shaky voice, and you nod your head. She bites her bottom lip, before stepping out of her bed and throwing her frail arms around you tightly.

“Thank you so much, for everything. For coming to visit me, bringing me gifts, and for taking care of my brother. Thank you, yn.” Jisoo tells you earnestly, and you blink away the tears flooding your eyes at her sweet words. Wrapping your arms around the youngest, you hold her tightly within your embrace as you stroke her back.

“Of course, Jisoo.” 

After a moment, the brunette loosens her hold on you to take a step back and look up into your eyes. You reach up and cup her face to gently wipe away the tears on her cheeks, while she gives you a small smile. You smile back at her when she reaches up to wipe away tears of your own, but your smile almost immediately falls when she quietly says,

“I can die happy knowing that Jeonghan has someone like you to love him for all that he is, and all that he will be.” 

You blink at her words, trying to comprehend what she just said when the door to the hospital room suddenly opens up from behind the two of you. 

“Jisoo~ I got you your favorite food–yn?” 

You glance back to find Jeonghan staring at you in surprise, a bag filled with takeout in his hand. You watch as his gaze trails over to Jisoo, and you feel your heart squeeze in your chest when you see numerous emotions flood his eyes at the sight of his younger sister with long brown hair.

Jisoo takes a step back from you and quickly wipes the tears from her eyes, before giving her older brother a shy smile, “Jeonghan, how do I look?” 

The blonde stares at Jisoo with a warm look in his eyes, and he sets the bag of takeout down onto the table. He walks up to the two of you, and gently pats the top of his sister’s head as he murmurs, 

“You look pretty. You always look pretty, because you look just like your older brother.” 

Jisoo immediately groans with a roll of her eyes, slapping his hand away as she walks over to the bag of takeout on the table. Jeonghan lets out a laugh at her reaction, and you attempt to smile as well, but you’re still a bit shaken by what Jisoo had told you right before the blonde entered the room.

“I can die happy knowing that Jeonghan has someone like you to love him for all that he is, and all that he will be.” 

You’re quickly snapped out of your daze, however, when a warm hand reaches out and grasps your own. You look up to find Jeonghan staring at you with a small smile, and he gives your hand a squeeze as he whispers, 

“Thank you, yn.” 

You nod your head, smiling back at him as you rub your thumb on the back of his hand. The two of you stare at each other in silence for a moment, unspoken words being said through your gazes alone.

“Alright, lovebirds. I’m going to eat all of this fried chicken if you guys want to keep being in love, or whatever.” Jisoo calls out from the table, and the two of you immediately let your hands fall to your sides as you turn to the youngest. She just gives you both a mischievous smile, and Jeonghan shoots her a glare as he walks over to her. 

You watch quietly for a moment as the two siblings start to bicker, a sight that would usually bring you amusement, but you’re left with a slight feeling of dread as Jisoo’s confession continues to ring in the back of your mind. 

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!” 

You giggle at your loved ones as they sing loudly around you, raising a hand up to your face as you feel warmth flood your face slightly. You’ve lived through the Happy Birthday song for 18 years now, but you still feel a bit shy whenever anyone sings it to you.

“Happy birthday dear yn, happy birthday to you!”

“Okay honey, make a wish.” Your mom says with a big smile, her phone held up towards you as she takes a video. You grin, glancing around the room to see Yeji and some of your soccer friends waiting for you to blow out the candles. You grip your knees underneath the table when you turn to look towards the front door, still having the smallest bit of hope that Jeonghan will come. 

Sucking in a deep breath, you close your eyes and think to yourself,

I wish to celebrate my birthday with Yoon Jeonghan.

Opening your eyes, you blow out the candle, with cheers of your friends and family erupting around you. A small smile forms on your face as you look at everyone, but you can’t help but feel your gaze trail over to the front door again. 

You waited a long time for him to come. It was only when everyone left and it was just you waiting by the window of your front door, that you accepted that he had never planned to show up in the first place.

You blink out of the memory at the sound of a notification dinging from your phone, and you glance down to find a new text from Yeji. 

yeji: streets are saying that they’re serving katsu for lunch…

and by streets i mean the weekly school lunch menu on the bulletin board

You snort at the text, quickly replying that you’ll go have lunch with her today before putting your phone down on your dresser. Biting the inside of your cheek, you blink to rid your eyes of the tears that managed to pool on your waterline from the distinct memory that appeared in your mind.

It’s been close to a month since the day you and Jeonghan exchanged Valentine’s day gifts, and with each day that passes, you’ve slowly been starting to forget the reason that you’ve come back in time. 

You and Jeonghan’s friendship has only been growing stronger each day, with him beginning to open up more, and you bringing him everywhere you go. Almost every weekend, you go with Jeonghan to visit Jisoo in the hospital, while continuing to “secretly” visit her by yourself. Whereas almost everyday after classes, you drag the blonde to go out to eat or play soccer together until your parents are both calling you to come home for dinner.

It’s like the two of you have fallen back into your old childhood routine, spending everyday together until your parents have to physically separate you in order to fulfill your basic needs.

You’ve even noticed more people trying to talk to the blonde in school, and it always brings a smile to your face when you see him reciprocating the attention. He’s even managed to bring attention to his soccer skills during P.E. when you sneakily instigated a soccer tournament with him knowing very well that he can’t just drop a competition. 

The ping of your phone gets your attention as you’re throwing your backpack over your shoulders, and a small smile forms on your face when you read the text.

jeonghannie: good morning yn ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

“Yn!” Your head lifts up at the sudden exclamation of your name from behind you, and you turn to see Yeji looking at you with a mischievous smile on her face. 

The seating arrangement in your class changed for the new month, with Yeji now sitting behind you and Jeonghan still sitting in the front row. Yeji was obviously a bit upset that the two of you were now separated, but she quickly got over it when she realized she could throw tiny paper balls at the back of your head. 

At first it was annoying, now it’s just routine.

“Katsu.” You state, to which Yeji’s smile widens as she nods her head in response. Chuckling, the two of you both stand up from your desks to get started towards the cafeteria. As you’re about to pass through the door, you glance back to see the blonde getting up from his desk as he rubs his tired eyes. 

He looks up and locks eyes with you, and the two of you share a secretive smile as you point towards the stairwell. He nods and shoots you a quick thumbs up, and you quickly send him the OK sign before hurrying after Yeji. 

“You and Jeonghan talk in code now too, huh?” She teases when you catch up to her, and you quickly reach out to slap her arm. She lets out a squeak and rubs her arm, shooting you a glare, “Bitch?!”

“Mind your own, or else I’ll take your katsu.” You threaten, and she presses her lips into a thin line before shaking her head at you with a small smile beginning to form on her face. She lets out a sigh and wraps her arm around you, “When will you and blondie start dating? Everyone already knows you’re in love.” 

You roll your eyes, internally cursing yourself for the warmth flooding your face at the idea of you and Jeonghan appearing in the back of your mind. 

“I have other priorities right now.” 

“How can anything be more important than you finally realizing your feelings for the man?” Yeji asks as the two of you enter the cafeteria, standing at the back of the lunch line. You bite the inside of your cheek to try and appear nonchalant, even adding a shrug. 

“I need to make my wish come true first.” 

You quietly walk into the stairwell to find Jeonghan sitting at the top step with his back against the railing, the sunlight from the window resting over his angelic features. His eyes are closed, airpod in each ear as he quietly listens to music. A smile forms on your face at the pretty sight, and you try to ingrain every detail of his beauty in your mind before making your presence known.

“Hi sleeping beauty.” 

Jeonghan’s eyes slowly open at the sound of your voice through his music, and the corner of his lips quirks upwards when he locks eyes with you. He takes out an airpod with a grin forming on his face when you step forward and sit down across from him, back resting against the wall as the two of you stare at each other. 

“So you think I’m beautiful?” Jeonghan teases, to which you roll your eyes as you hand him the can of coffee you had bought from the vending machine. He nods his thanks while still keeping his gaze on you, and you squint your eyes when you see the mirth lingering behind those pretty brown irises. Breaking eye contact first, you glance out the window to stare at the sun shining in through the window, with delicate white clouds floating past in the bright blue sky. 

“What a beautiful day.” You murmur quietly, to which the blonde follows your gaze and stares out the window. He lets out a breath of content at the sight, “Yeah, it is.” 

“Do you want to play soccer tonight?” You ask, turning to look at Jeonghan to gauge his reaction. He lets out a snort, taking a sip of the coffee as he continues to stare out the window. “You must really enjoy getting humbled, huh?”

You scoff and gently kick his foot, eliciting a chuckle from him as he finally turns to look at you. He shakes his head, and you raise an eyebrow. 

“Never expected you to say no to soccer.” 

“That’s because I already planned an outing for us tonight.” Jeonghan says in a quiet voice, and you blink. Then you blink again. 

“You… you planned what?” You ask, clearly in shock by what he said. The blonde grins at your surprise, feeling satisfied at how he had managed to plan it all secretly. The bell rings before you can ask another question, signaling the end of your lunch break.

He lets out a sigh and stands up from the step, reaching out and gently patting the top of your head with a small smile on his face, 

“You’ll find out the plan for tonight after class.” 

With that, he turns around and coolly walks away towards your classroom. You watch his back as he walks away, still in a slight state of shock, before the tiniest of smiles begins to form on your face. Running a hand through your hair, you stand up from the step and slowly start to follow after him with a slight pep to your step.

“Our parents are going to kill us, Yoon Jeonghan!” You exclaim when he pulls you onto the bus that will surely take you two hours away from home. The blonde just waves a hand at you to signal that it’s fine as he pulls you into the seat beside him. 

“You’re taking me to a place that’s two hours away from home on a school night. You know damn well our parents are going to murder us when we get back.” You say with wide eyes, and Jeonghan nods his head in silent agreement as he takes a sip from his water bottle. Letting out an exasperated sigh, you lean your head back against the chair and shut your eyes. 

When did I start thinking like a 17 year old again? You silently think to yourself as you open your eyes, biting back a laugh at the fact that you’re worried about your mother’s wrath. 

“It’ll be fun, don’t worry.” Jeonghan tells you as he puts in an earbud, taking the other and gently placing it into your ear. You chuckle, “I have no doubt that it’ll be fun, I’m just worried about the consequences of our actions after the fun.”

The blonde grins and shuffles his playlist, before leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes like you did earlier as the soft tune of a piano begins to play through his earbuds. Letting out a sigh, you close your eyes and adjust your position so that your head now rests on Jeonghan’s shoulder. 

After a moment, you feel the blonde gently rest his cheek on the top of your head.

“Yn Yln, you know that it’s a school night! Where the hell are you going?!” You wince at the familiar sound of your mother’s screech, pulling the phone away from your ear as she starts to complain about you. You send an apologetic glance towards Jeonghan after the two of you hop off the bus, and he just chuckles at the sound of your mother’s voice. 

“I’ll be home soon, I swear!” You whine, only for your mother to start shouting even more.

“Home soon my ass! Always going out after school, but it’s never to a cram school. Didn’t I teach you to try hard in your studies so that you can get to a good college?! I don’t ask for you to be first in school, just to have good grades!” 

You roll your eyes at your mother’s nagging, and Jeonghan bites back a smile as he nods in agreement with what your mom’s saying. Your eyes widen, and you reach out to slap the blonde’s shoulder at his teasing. He grins, before reaching out and taking the phone from you.

“Hi auntie, it’s Jeonghan.” 

You almost let out a shout of indignance when you hear the immediate change to your mother’s initial anger after Jeonghan takes the phone from you, to which he just shoots you a wink. You cross your arms in annoyance and look around as the blonde talks to your mother, and you feel your breath get taken away when the bus drives away, revealing the sunset beginning to fall beneath the sea. 

You can’t remember the last time you’ve been to the sea, having gotten so used to the city life that you and your friends almost forgot to plan hangouts that venture outside of downtown Seoul. Biting back a sad smile, you find yourself missing your future friends for the first time since you’ve traveled back in time.

Oh, how Seungcheol would be so offended if he were to find out you only missed them now.

“Yes auntie, don’t worry. Yes, my mom knows that I planned this for today and knew she couldn’t talk me out of it.” Jeonghan says, and you turn away from the view before you to see the blonde let out a chuckle at something your mom must’ve said. Running a hand through his hair, he ends with, “I’ll have them home safe by 11. Yes, yes, I’ll also make sure to come visit you soon. I missed you too. See you soon, auntie!”

He hangs up the call and hands you your phone back, to which you raise an eyebrow at him. He simply shrugs his shoulders with a coy smile, “What can I say? Your mom’s always called me the son she never had.”

“She has never once said that!” You exclaim with a laugh, and Jeonghan gives you a look. 

“She said it all the time, yn. Wow, that selective hearing of yours is impressive.” He teases as he starts walking towards the beach, and you roll your eyes before following after him. You adjust your bag over your shoulder as the two of you start walking along the sand, gazing at the sunset and the different groups of people mingling on the beach. 

Since it’s a school day, it’s pretty empty. However, there are still some families with their young kids playing in the sand, as well as some couples taking walks along the beach. 

“What did you even say to my mom to make her calm down?” You ask after a moment of silence has passed between the two of you, and Jeonghan laughs. “I was joking earlier, but your selective hearing is impressive. How did you completely tune out our whole conversation?” 

You reach out and slap his shoulder at the teasing, eliciting a hiss from him as the two of you walk closer to the water. “I was busy admiring the view! I didn’t mean to tune out your conversation on purpose.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Jeonghan jokes once the two of you are standing in front of the water, with the waves crashing onto the shore almost reaching your guys’ shoes. You roll your eyes, before a mischievous grin takes over your features. As the blonde begins to talk about where the two of you should eat dinner, you wait for the waves to come crashing onto the sand.

“There’s a corndog place nearby, or we could have ramen…” 

Jeonghan’s voice tunes out when the waves finally make an appearance, and you quickly shove the blonde into the water, to which he shouts in shock at the cold water against his ankles. Maniacal laughter pours out of you at the astonished expression on Jeonghan’s face as he stands frozen in place, before his eyes slowly trail up towards you.

He blinks at the sight of you laughing at his demise, with the orange light cast onto you by the sun setting behind him. He almost forgets the position he’s in because of you, with the ice cold water from the ocean soaking his shoes and pants. However, the sound of your sudden snort breaks him out of his trance, and he feels a smirk form on his face as he raises his arm up and points at you, mirth pooling his gaze when he sees your laughter begin to die down.

“You better run bitch.” 

You squeak and immediately turn around to begin sprinting down the beach, screaming apologies with Jeonghan quickly following after you, shouting expletives at you for his now soaked pants. 

As the sun starts to disappear behind the vast expanse of the sea, it’s almost as if time seems to stop for you and Jeonghan as the two of you run around on the beach. Not a care or worry in the world as the two of you play in the sand like you once did when you were children.

You sit on the sand, corndog in hand as you watch a few people down the beach shoot fireworks up into the sky. There seems to be a permanent smile on your face as you scarf down the last of your food, the sound of Jeonghan’s bright laughter while the two of you were fighting to push the other into the sea ringing in your ears. 

The memory is halted when a hand is suddenly in front of your face, causing you to lean back to see the blonde standing beside you, two firework sticks in hand. You let out a quiet gasp and quickly stand up from the sand, “You bought fireworks for us? I thought you were just going to the bathroom!”

“I made a quick pit stop when I saw you staring at the fireworks shooting up into the sky.” Jeonghan tells you with a grin as he places the firework into your hand. Warmth floods your face at the fact that he had noticed your longing stare at the people playing with fireworks on the beach, and you gently nudge his shoulder with yours. “Thank you, Jeonghan.” 

“Of course, yn. Now come on, let’s go shoot these fireworks before we head back.” 

The two of you walk towards the edge of the beach, stopping where the waves meet the sand. You stare off into the dark water, quietly wondering why you hadn’t gone to the beach more often in the future. The sea was one of your favorite places to visit growing up, partly due to your summers spent here with Jeonghan, but also because you just love the smell of the salty waters, the feel of the sand beneath your feet. 

The memories that were made here at this beach have always been timeless.

“Yn, hold yours out.” You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Jeonghan striking the match on the box, a flame immediately igniting as he turns to you and lights your firework. He reaches out and adjusts your hand on the firework, making sure it’s aimed upwards towards the sky. You jump slightly when the firework shoots out, eliciting a laugh from the blonde that makes you gently nudge him in the stomach. 

A smile forms on your face at the sight of his beautiful smile, warmth flooding you at the fact that you’ve been blessed by some God out there to see it again. 

“Thank you.” You murmur, and Jeonghan looks away from the fireworks shooting into the sky, just to find you staring at him with an indecipherable emotion in your gaze. He feels the corner of his lips quirk upward, and he tilts his head at you, “For what?” 

“For being here with me.” 

And you watch as something flickers past Jeonghan’s eyes at your answer, before slightly shaking his head and turning back to the fireworks. You grin and follow suit, watching in awe as the last of your firework explodes into numerous colors in the night sky. 

“I missed you.” Jeonghan says quietly as he prepares to light his firework, making your head snap towards him. You reach up and stretch your earlobes, unsure if you heard him correctly as he focuses on striking the match. It’s only when the flame ignites on the match, and he lights his firework, that he turns back to you as the first firework shoots into the sky. 

“I took you to the beach because I missed you.” The blonde tells you, and you can only stare at him in shock as a small smile appears on his face. “Every once in a while, I found myself suddenly remembering the times we were brought to the beach as children. From the sandcastles we built, to us running into the sea and accidentally inhaling some salt water—I thought of it all. And I missed it, I missed you.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek at his confession, watching as Jeonghan turns away to look up towards the night sky while the fireworks go off. His face is illuminated by the numerous colors exploding in the sky. From red, to orange, to purple, an iridescence of colors are cast onto him. 

“So thank you, yn. Thank you for letting me experience this memory with you again.” Jeonghan whispers, his voice so quiet that you almost miss it by the sound of his fireworks exploding in the air. Feeling tears flood your eyes, you already know that your voice will crack if you even try to answer him with words. 

So, you respond silently. 

You reach out and intertwine your fingers with his, hearing the faint sound of his breath hitching at the sudden skinship. Without looking, you step closer and rest your head on his shoulder, staring upwards as the last of his fireworks shoots up into the sky. 

It’s only when the final firework explodes in the darkness that you quietly whisper,

“Always.”

You walk into school with a furrow between your eyebrows, fists clenched as you head towards your classroom. There’s numerous people greeting you as you make your way down the hallway, some giving a belated birthday greeting. You can only nod at them, though, because you have to talk to someone.

Yoon Jeonghan didn’t come to your birthday party on Saturday, even though he had promised he would.

Once your classroom comes into view, you pick up the pace and immediately slide open the door. You do a quick onceover of the people inside the class, just for your frown to deepen when you see Jeonghan’s seat is left empty. 

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you walk over and plop down into your desk. You don’t know why you’re so upset over him not coming to your birthday, it’s not like the two of you are as close as you used to be. 

You reach up to rub the back of your neck at your petty thoughts, knowing deep down that you are guilty for your guys’ dwindling friendship. 

Maybe that’s why he didn’t come, you think to yourself. It would make sense, he might’ve thought that you were just joking when you invited him. You couldn’t blame him, the two of you haven’t had an actual conversation since the beginning of Freshman year. If the roles were swapped, and Jeonghan was the one who suddenly invited you to his birthday, you also would’ve thought it was a joke.

You bite the inside of your cheek when the memory of his smile appears in your mind, his promise to be at your birthday ringing in your ears as well. Clenching your fist at your side, you look up when you hear your teacher’s voice entering the room.

“Class, before I get into the lecture, I have some news to share with all of you.” 

You feel a foot kick the back of your chair, and you glance back to find Yeji raising an eyebrow at you. You shrug your shoulders at her, unsure of what the announcement could be either. Hearing the sound of your teacher clearing his throat, you turn back to see him looking a bit uncomfortable about what he’s going to say next. 

“Your classmate, Yoon Jeonghan, sadly passed away on Saturday, April 20th. His family have requested to keep the information private, but have extended an invitation to his funeral. If any of you need to go to the counselor’s office…” 

The rest of his words get tuned out by the sound of a sharp ringing in your ears, and your eyes slowly trail over towards the empty desk in the front of the classroom. Feeling your heart beat rapidly against your chest, your hand slowly crawls up to your neck as it starts to get harder to breathe. 

This can’t be. It can’t be real.

You gasp for air as you clutch onto the front of your shirt, abruptly standing up from your desk in the middle of your teacher’s speech about your childhood best friend. Everyone’s eyes are on you as you struggle to breathe, and you quickly look over towards the exit and step away from your desk. Yeji is looking at you with concern pooled in her eyes, and she reaches out to grasp your hand, but you flinch out of her reach and stagger out of the classroom without being excused. 

You stumble down the hallway and to the stairwell, trying to suck in a breath as you slam your back against the wall to gain balance. Raising your hands up to your hair, you clutch your head as you feel yourself beginning to hyperventilate. Slowly sliding down the wall until you’re on the floor, your eyes are wide as you stare down at your shoes, unable to believe what is happening as you struggle for air. 

Your hands reach over to cover your face, and you pull back after they make contact, just to see the wetness to them from the tears you didn’t realize were escaping. You reach up to aggressively wipe away the tears falling from your eyes, but it just results in a sob escaping your lips as you curl up into a ball. Your hands grab at your hair, feeling a raw scream rip its way out of your throat as black dots begin to cloud your vision. 

“Yn? Yn! Yeji, please go and call yn’s parents. Yn, breathe.” A familiar deep voice rings through your ears, hands resting on your shoulders to try and get you to look at him, but you’re unable to listen as you struggle to suck in a breath. You punch your chest in an attempt to get yourself to breathe properly, but you can only feel another sob escape you as you shake your head at Jaehyun.

“Yn? YN!” 

Jaehyun’s frantic shout of your name goes unheard as the world around you finally turns black. 

You gasp awake, sweat dripping down your back as you stare up at the ceiling with wide eyes. You reach up and wipe your face, only to pause when you feel the wetness to your cheeks. A shaky breath escapes you as your vision blurs, and you blink your eyes, feeling tears trail down the sides of your face. 

“Jeonghan’s alive. It’s okay.” You murmur to yourself, before reaching out and grabbing your phone to check the time. You press your lips into a thin line when you see that you don’t have to be awake for another 4 hours, and you sigh as you place your phone back down onto your dresser. 

You wonder why your brain decided to remind you of such a tragic memory after having such a beautiful day with Jeonghan. Is it because deep down, you’re still afraid? Is it to remind you that you still have a wish to accomplish?

You let out a huff and shake your head as if to rid yourself of your thoughts, knowing that overthinking the dream won’t do you any good. 

“I need to sleep.” 

Rolling over onto your side, the date flashes in the back of your mind as you slowly begin to drift back to sleep.

March 11, 2019 

One more month.

You walk into the school with a pep to your step, a small smile on your face as you think of the possible ideas of what you and Jeonghan can do once classes are over. You’re greeted by some of your classmates in the hallways, to which you just shoot them a smile and wave in response, before continuing on towards the classroom.

You look forward to talking to Jeonghan in the mornings.

Stepping into the classroom, your eyes immediately zone in on Jeonghan’s desk, only for you to halt your movements. 

His seat is empty, with no sign of him even being there. 

You walk over to your seat and place your bag down, unzipping your bag to take out the canned coffee you had bought him on your way to school. You step over to his desk, and your grip on the beverage tightens when you don’t see his backpack or jacket on his seat. 

“Yn!” Your head snaps up towards the doorway, and you lock eyes with a happy looking Yeji. Walking over towards her, you plop down in your seat as she sits on her desk behind you, “Good morning, yn.” 

“Morning Yeji, have you seen Jeonghan?” You ask, and the brunette shakes her head as she spares a glance towards his desk. She shrugs her shoulders, “I haven’t seen him this morning, maybe he’s late? Him and I don’t really talk anyways, though.” 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you pull out your phone and open up your messages, and your heart falls when you see no response to your good morning message. 

“Yn, are you okay?” Yeji asks, and you glance up to find concern in her gaze as she looks at you. Pouting her lips, she reaches out and rests her thumb between your eyebrows, smoothing out the crease you didn’t know was there. “You’ve been frowning since I got here.” 

“I’m just… I’m just a bit worried that Jeonghan’s ruining his perfect attendance record.” You lie, and the brunette just stares, seeing right through your fib. Yet she doesn’t push it, and for that, you’re grateful for her. 

“I’m sure he’s just making sure that you win that perfect attendance award since he knows how hard you’ve been trying to win that when we graduate.” Yeji tells you, squeezing your arm as a means to comfort you. You let out a shaky breath, and give her a small smile, “Yeah, yeah. You’re right.” 

The brunette is about to comfort you more when your teacher enters the classroom, and you immediately turn towards the front of the class. You watch anxiously as he unpacks his textbook and notes for the lecture, trying to analyze his facial features to see if there’s a trace of sadness or discomfort. You clench your fists when he finally looks up at the class, opening his mouth to say,

“Alright class, open up your textbooks to page 88…” 

You feel yourself letting out the breath that you didn’t even know you were holding, immediately tuning out his directions as you rest your head in your hands. You try to do a breathing exercise to calm down your beating heart, but the unease is still present as you look up to see Jeonghan’s empty desk. 

Sweat drips down your face as you run, but you can’t allow yourself to slow down even a little. Your heart is beating hard against your chest, and you’re practically gasping for air, but you’re so close to home already.

As soon as the bell rang signaling that school was over, you threw your backpack over your shoulder and sprinted out of there. 

Jeonghan never answered your text.

Now you’re running home so that you can run up to Jeonghan’s door and aggressively ring the doorbell. You don’t care if you’ll annoy him or be a nuisance, as long as he answers.

That’s all that matters.

You gasp for air when you make it into your neighborhood, and you push yourself to run a bit faster as you turn the corner and end up in your driveway. You practically fall onto your knees as you practically dry heave, letting your backpack fall to the ground.

You’re about to get ready to stand up and rush to Jeonghan’s house across the street, only to pause when you see your parents stepping out of the house, dressed in all black. Your heart immediately plummets when you see the pained look in your mother’s eyes when she looks up at you.

“Mom, what are you—“

“Yn, honey, I need you to freshen up and then put on a formal black outfit.” Your mom tells you in as soft of a voice she can muster, and you feel your breathing turn more rigid at how familiar this all is.

This can’t be… I still have a month left, you think to yourself as you clench your fists.

“Mom. What are you trying to say?” You ask quietly, feeling your hands begin to shake at your sides as your father walks up to you and picks up your bag from the ground. He gently reaches out and grasps your shaking hand, giving it a squeeze, and you turn to look at him.

“Jisoo passed away in the night. Her and Jeonghan’s parents called to let us know while you were in school.” 

You blink at your father, his words slowly starting to sink in until they hit you all at once like a train. Stumbling backwards, you flinch away from your father’s grasp, tears flooding your vision as you stare at the ground with wide eyes.

“T-This can’t be… I don’t remember this.” You whisper to yourself, your hands reaching up to grip at your hair as you try to recall any old memories of Jisoo’s passing. You feel your parents reaching out to you, making an attempt to bring you inside your home, but you can only step away from them as you search your brain for anything you could’ve missed.

But you can’t. You don’t remember hearing anything of Jisoo’s death before Jeonghan passed. 

“Yn, we have to attend the funeral. We don’t want to be late.” Your mother tells you softly, grasping your arm and leading you into your home. You just let her bring you inside, sucking in shaky breaths as the tears continue to fall from your eyes.

How could I not have known? You think to yourself as you’re brought into the bathroom, with your mother promising to bring in your formal black attire to put on after you shower. Numbly, you strip out of your sweat soaked clothes, and step into the shower. As the hot water falls onto your body, you swallow the lump in your throat as guilt flows through you.

How could you have lived so ignorantly back then?

You and your parents step into the funeral home, and you take notice of a few people around Jisoo’s age sitting at the tables, eating small meals. Sucking in a shaky breath, you tighten your grip around your mother’s hand as she guides you to the room. 

The three of you turn the corner and step into the room, where tears immediately build up in your eyes when you see Jisoo’s smiling face in the center of all the flowers. Your bottom lip quivers as you try to keep your emotions at bay as the three of you bow to Jisoo twice. 

You slowly turn in place to face Jeonghan’s family, and you feel your heart break within your chest when you see the blonde standing before you. He’s staring down at the floor with an empty look in his eyes, not even realizing you’re here. The dark eyebags that had slowly started to disappear are now back on his face, and his lips are incredibly chapped. 

Your family bows to Jeonghan’s, which they reciprocate. When you stand back at your full height, your parents immediately start to give their condolences to Jeonghan’s parents. While you take a step closer to Jeonghan, who is still staring down at the floor with a lifeless look in his gaze.

“Jeonghan.” You murmur, and you see the blonde stir slightly at the sound of your voice. He slowly turns and looks up at you, and you feel your heart break within your chest at how empty he looks. You haven’t seen him look like this since that one day a couple of months ago, when you caught him sitting on the ledge of the window, staring out at the field. 

Jeonghan blinks when the two of you make eye contact, almost as if he’s just realized that you’re here. You manage to give him a small smile in greeting, and from the sight alone, tears immediately flood his eyes. 

The blonde steps forward and wraps his arms around you without a word, tears falling past his eyes when your arms wrap around his waist. He nuzzles his face into your neck, the sobs that he tried to keep inside beginning to pour out as you hold him tightly within your embrace. 

“I’m so sorry, Jeonghan.” You whisper, tears falling past your eyes at the sound of his sobs. 

And all you can do is hold him tighter as he cries, trying to offer him the comfort that you tried to give too late in the past.

“I knew she was getting weaker as the days went on.” Jeonghan murmurs quietly, his eyes bloodshot and face swollen from crying. The two of you are sitting at the back of the room, staring at Jisoo’s smiling face while both of your parents speak with the guests outside. You sniffle and take a sip of water, knowing that your own face probably matches his from the tears that you shed.

“But she just kept acting like nothing was wrong, like she wasn’t living on borrowed time.”  

“That’s Jisoo for you.” You tell him softly, and the blonde glances at you with curiosity. You wipe your nose, a small smile forming on your face at the memories flooding your mind, “Ever since she was a baby, she was always so positive. The only times I saw her frown was when you would trick her.” 

The corner of the blonde’s lips quirks upwards at this, before his expression turns solemn again.

“If I had known yesterday was her last day, I would’ve stayed by her side.”

“Jeonghan, it’s not your fault.” You interject immediately, but the blonde just runs a hand through his hair in silence. He lets out a choked laugh as he shakes his head, “She was the one who told me not to come visit after classes were done. She told me to do something for myself instead of going to visit her, and she was very insistent on it.”

“Jeonghan…”

“I tried to argue with her, even tried to bribe her by saying I’d bring you, but she just kept telling me that I looked silly wanting to spend all my freetime with my baby sister instead of you. I still went to visit her for a little bit when we got back, and I–” Jeonghan chokes up at the thought, and swallows the lump in his throat to continue. 

“I saw how tired she looked. I tried to play it off as if the treatment from the day before really took a toll on her, but it wasn’t that, and Jisoo knew it. She knew it was almost time, but I didn’t want to acknowledge it. If I had known… I would’ve done everything differently. I would’ve argued back more. I would’ve spent the night at the hospital. I would’ve—“

“Jeonghan, you know how happy she must’ve been when you came to visit her last night and heard about your day even for that short span of time? You know your happiness is her happiness, and vice versa.” You say, watching as the blonde’s bottom lip quivers as tears begin to flood his eyes again. You reach out and rest your hand on top of his, giving it a squeeze as you murmur, “Jisoo doesn’t blame you for anything, she wanted you to be able to live happily even if she wasn’t there. Her wishes were answered when she saw you before she went to sleep last night.”

Jeonghan chokes on a sob, reaching up and resting a hand over his eyes as the second wave of tears cascade down his cheeks. 

“She was too young, too precious.” Jeonghan whispers through his tears, moving his hand so that he can look at Jisoo’s smiling face again. You squeeze his hand again, feeling your eyes water as you swallow the growing lump in your throat. Nodding your head, you mutter, “She, of all people, deserved a full life.” 

Jeonghan stares at Jisoo’s framed picture in silence for a moment, before muttering, “I don’t know what to do without her.”

You suck in a shaky breath at his words, silently realizing that this must’ve been it. This was his breaking point back then. He had almost no support system, having already isolated himself from others when Jisoo was diagnosed in sophomore year. No one except his family knew what he must have been feeling, and even they must’ve not known the extent of his depression. 

And then there was you. The only other person in this world who knew Jeonghan from the inside and out, who didn’t decide to reach out until your 18th birthday. 

You knew that something was off, that he wasn’t himself. Yet you stood idly by, only sparing him a few glances before going back to your other friends because you didn’t think you were close enough to reach out anymore. It wasn’t until it was too late that you tried to be there for him, and it wasn’t enough.

Turning your head to glance at the blonde, you stare at his angelic features that were shared with his beautiful sister. From his long eyelashes, to the slope of his nose, and to the pretty mole on his cheek. You feel your heart seize in your chest when a single tear slowly trails down his cheek as he stares at the photo of Jisoo, and you can’t help but think of how exhausted he looks. It almost feels like a punch in the gut when you realize how similar it is to how he looked right before he died.

As the days went on in March back then, the bags under his eyes became darker, his complexion slowly losing that warm glow, and his eyes. Oh, his eyes, the pure exhaustion that dripped from his gaze whenever you looked at him in class.

Jeonghan was alive, but he was an empty shell of who he used to be. 

How could I have just ignored all the signs? You silently wonder to yourself as you stare at the broken boy beside you, feeling your heart break at the sight of the grief on his face. Turning away from the blonde, you quietly tell him,

“You live.” You feel Jeonghan turn his head to glance at you, and you whisper, “You live for her, for Jisoo.”

After the words leave your lips, you turn to look at the blonde right when the tears fall from his eyes. He presses his lips into a thin line, before a heartbreaking smile slowly takes over his features as he chokes out, “I don’t know if I can.” 

Jisoo’s words to you from a month ago suddenly ring in your ears, “I can die happy knowing that Jeonghan has someone like you to love him for all that he is, and all that he will be.” 

Sucking in a shaky breath, you tentatively raise your hand up towards his face, and without breaking eye contact, you rest it against his cheek. Wiping away his tears with the pad of your thumb, you return his smile with your own tears falling past your eyes, “That’s okay, because she and I know that you will.”

At this, Jeonghan bites his bottom lip to try and fight the next wave of sobs that threaten to pour out, turning away from you to hide his tears. However, you reach out and wrap your arms around him, pulling the blonde towards you until his face is hidden in your shoulder. You rest your cheek on the back of his head, gently rubbing his back as you hold back sobs of your own.

You slowly enter the funeral home with your parents on either side of you, your heartbeat loud against your ears as you look at all of the people sitting at the tables sharing a meal and a drink. You recognize a few as Jeonghan’s relatives, having met them before at family parties. 

You come to a stop when you’re about to turn to enter the room, and your mother gives you a glance, “Yn, we have to.” 

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you shake your head, “This can’t be real. None of this can be real.” 

“Come on, honey.” Your father tells you, and without another word, your parents gently push you forward. 

The three of you slip off your shoes and step up into the room, and a shaky breath escapes your lips when you see Jeonghan’s smiling face among the flowers surrounding the picture frame. You turn your head to see Jeonghan’s parents standing off to the side as your family steps up to the altar. You clench your fists when you see the dried tear tracks on his mother’s face, and the tired expression on his father’s as he stares at the floor.

The three of you light a stick of incense beside Jeonghan’s portrait, before bowing towards him. You feel numb each time you look up at his face, unable to believe that this is real. 

That Jeonghan is dead.

When your family is done, you turn towards Jeonghan’s parents, and your bottom lip begins to quiver when you bow towards them. It’s when you’re standing back at your full height that you finally lock eyes with Jeonghan’s mother, and an overwhelming feeling of guilt floods you as a tear trails down her face. 

She tentatively steps towards you, and with shaky hands, cups your face. You raise your hands up and rest them over hers, and her thumbs wipe underneath your eyes. The act brings you to the realization that you’ve been crying this whole time.

She attempts to give you a smile, and you bite back a sob as she murmurs, “You’re so grown up now, dear.” 

Without another word, you step forward and wrap your arms around her, crying out your apologies as she holds you in her warm embrace. You feel her shaking her head at your apologies as she mutters that it’s not your fault, that no one knew this would happen. 

But the grief overwhelms you as you hug her tighter, shaking within her hold as you shake your head at her. All you can do is sob, continuing to cry out apologies as you hear Jeonghan’s father start to cry beside you. 

Eventually, Jeonghan’s mother can only hold you silently, knowing that no words of reassurance can relieve you of the guilt you feel.

“Yn.” You turn your head at the sound of your name being called, just for a small smile to form on your face when you see the blonde dribbling the soccer ball towards you. You twist on the cap of the water bottle, and rest it on the bleachers beside you, “Mm?” 

Jeonghan kicks the ball over to you, and you stop it with your foot. He runs a hand through his blonde hair, and you notice how much his roots have grown. 

It’s been almost three weeks since Jisoo passed, and it’s been a rough journey to get to where the two of you are now. Jeonghan didn’t attend classes for a week, opting to either just stay in bed or sit in the corner of Jisoo’s bedroom and hold her favorite plushie. Everyday after school, you’d go over to his house with a copy of your notes that you took during class, and either coax him out of bed or feed him his meals. 

The second week, he was able to go to school. However, he didn’t talk much, and that was okay with you. You would either put on your favorite show and have him watch it from beside you, or tell him about anything and everything you could think of to distract him. After classes were over, you would drag him to the field and have him play soccer with you. 

You found that the sport is what would bring the most relief to the blonde. 

“What’s your opinion on mullets?” The blonde asks as he gestures towards the water bottle beside you, and you snort at the random question. Tossing the bottle to him, you reply, “I think they’re nice. Only some people can rock it, though. Oh! It also has to be a specific type of mullet.”

Jeonghan gulps down some water and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, looking at you with an amused expression on his face. You raise an eyebrow, “What?” 

“Didn’t know you had a PhD in mullets.” The blonde jokes, and you roll your eyes jokingly. Shrugging your shoulders, you remember how in the future, you meet one of the only people you know who looks amazing with a mullet. 

“I kinda miss Minghao.” You whisper to yourself as you remember your roommate, having almost forgotten about the wonderful friend group you made once you got to college. You silently wonder if you’ll still be able to meet them after you change the past, or if your actions now are changing everything about your future. 

Then again, you always did think that your group of 13 was missing someone. 

“Yn.” Jeonghan calls out, and you look up at the blonde, just for him to gesture towards the sky behind you. Blinking, you turn around, and feel your breath get taken away by the sight of the sunset. The sun is a bright orange, with the sky painted in different pinks and purples. The clouds resemble that of cotton candy—delicate and soft. 

“Didn’t think you’d want to miss it.” Jeonghan says as he sits beside you on the bleachers. You let out a small smile and spare him a glance, and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

How can someone be more ethereal than the sky? You silently question as you stare at your best friend beside you. The light from the setting sun casts an orange glow over his features, highlighting his soft eyes and pretty cheekbones. Your gaze trails down to the dark circles under his eyes, and you press your lips into a thin line as you think that they might’ve gotten a bit lighter as the days went on.

Letting out a breath, you turn away to look up at the pretty sky again. As the two of you sit in silence watching the sunset beneath the horizon, you quietly murmur, “Thank you for another beautiful day, Jisoo.” 

You hear Jeonghan’s breath hitch slightly from beside you at the mention of his sister, and you glance at him right when a single tear escapes past his eye as he stares at the sky. Biting your bottom lip, you turn away from the vulnerable sight, already knowing that he doesn’t want you to acknowledge his grief.

After a moment, you hear Jeonghan whisper, 

“Thank you, yn.” 

You stare at the calendar taped to your locker, eyes stuck on the current date. 

Friday, April 12th 

“Yn!” You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the call of your name, and quickly shut your locker, just to turn and find yourself face to face with Jaehyun. A smile takes over your features, and you raise your hand up to wave to the brunette, “Hi Jae.” 

Since Valentine’s Day, Jaehyun got the hint that you weren’t interested and immediately stopped trying to win your affections. Except for the occasional greeting when you two cross paths, or the small talk you guys have when you’re at lunch, you haven’t really spoken in a while. 

“I need to ask you a question, but the question isn’t about you.” Jaehyun breathes out, and you squint at the dimpled man suspiciously. “Is this going to lead into a your mom joke? If so, I won’t hesitate to punch you in the dick.” 

Jaehyun blinks at you, and you don’t fail to notice him lowering his books over his private area, making you bite back a laugh. He shakes his head, “It definitely isn’t leading into a your mom joke, but I’ll remember that threat just in case I ever do want to pull a your mom joke on you.” 

You grin, and the brunette chuckles. He gestures down the hallway towards your class, “Can I walk you to class while we talk?” 

You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you misjudged him and he’s actually still motivated to win your affections. He can sense your hesitation, however, and waves a hand at you, “This is about Jeonghan, not me trying to get you to fall in love with me.” 

Warmth floods your face at the bluntness of his statement, feeling embarrassed for assuming right away. Holding your books closer to your chest, you shrug your shoulders awkwardly, “Oh.” 

The two of you start walking slowly down the hallway together, before Jaehyun jokes,

“Unless you want me to.”

You nudge him in the ribs for it, and he laughs loudly at your reaction. Shaking your head at him, a smile forms on your lips as you think about how grateful you are for Jaehyun’s kindness. You really hope that you can maintain this friendship in the future, especially since Jaehyun has always been a constant in your high school career.

“So what did you want to ask me about, dimple boy?” You ask, and the brunette smiles at the use of his nickname. He glances at you, “I saw you and Jeonghan playing soccer the other day.” 

Your head snaps towards him in surprise, and Jaehyun chuckles at how quickly you reacted. He nudges your shoulder with his own, “He’s really good. It looked like you were fighting for your life every time you had the ball.” 

“Woah, woah woah.” You interrupt, and Jaehyun laughs loudly at your quick defense. You wave your hands at him, “I was not fighting for my life. I’d say each side was equally struggling.” 

Jaehyun smiles and nods his head at your words, showing that he’s agreeing with you. You know he doesn’t believe what you’re saying though, but that’s okay, because you’re lying. 

Jeonghan is a fantastic soccer player.

“Well,” Jaehyun begins as the two of you stop in front of the entrance of your classroom. He leans against the wall as he looks at you, and you tilt your head at him to continue. He glances into your classroom to find Jeonghan fast asleep on his desk, before looking back at you, “It’s too late for him to join the school’s soccer team since it’s our senior year, but if he’s interested in trying out for SNU’s soccer team, then tell him to text me.” 

A thrum of excitement floods you at the thought of Jeonghan playing the sport competitively. It’s something that he gave up for Jisoo, which didn’t go unnoticed by her, but you know she wanted him to get back into it again. All of you knew that he was fantastic at the sport, but his talent went unrecognized for years because he left it behind.

Now is his chance to play to his full potential. 

“Really? Would they even try to scout him if he wasn’t on the high school team?” You ask, and Jaehyun shrugs his shoulders with a mischievous smile. “I can sneak him into tryouts.” 

You raise an eyebrow, “You’re making Jeonghan a nepo baby?” 

Jaehyun’s eyes widen in disbelief at your words, before he breaks out into laughter at your joke. You bite back a smile of your own as you turn away, looking into the classroom to see the blonde beginning to stir on his desk. Glancing back at Jaehyun, you reach out and pat his shoulder, “I’ll talk to him and let you know.” 

The brunette smiles and gives you a thumbs up, before stepping away and beginning to walk down the hallway. Letting out a breath, you turn and walk into the classroom, and place your books down on top of your desk. You glance behind you to see Yeji looking at you with a mysterious grin on her face from her seat, and you squint.

“What?” 

She wiggles her eyebrows, “So, you back with Valentine boy?” 

You let out a sigh, before reaching out and slapping her shoulder, eliciting a squeak out of the brunette. She rubs her shoulder with a pout to her lips, “That hurt!” 

“If you focused on your studies more than my love life, then maybe you’d have a higher rank in our grade.” You tell her, and her jaw drops. She reaches out to slap you back, but you quickly dodge and stick your tongue out at her. 

“Yn!” 

“Repent. You already know how I feel.” You say with a glare, and a cheshire smile quickly forms on Yeji’s face at your almost confession. She points at you and then the front of the classroom, which you already guess is her pointing at Jeonghan. 

You just shrug your shoulders at her and sit down in your seat, turning around to find your eyes locked on Jeonghan’s. You blink in surprise at the eye contact, having thought the blonde was fast asleep atop his desk like usual. 

He looks at you with a sleepy gaze, and raises his hand up to send you a tiny wave, a small smile on his face to match. Your lips curl upwards almost immediately at the sight, and you wave back at him as you mouth the words, Good morning, Jeonghan! 

He smiles softly, before turning back around in his seat to rest his head on top of his desk again. Biting the inside of your cheek, you open your journal to begin doodling when you feel something small hit the square of your back. An amused smile takes over your features when you quickly realize who it is, and you glance back to see Yeji holding up a sticky note towards you. The message immediately rips a laugh out of you, no room in your heart to make you even the slightest bit annoyed at what your friend had quickly scribbled down,

YOON JEONGHAN ♡ YN YLN

You let out a victory screech when you kick the soccer ball into the goal, and Jeonghan huffs out a good shot as he practically dry heaves from beside you. You suck in tired breaths of your own, feeling like you’re trying to gulp the air as you rest your hands on your knees. 

The blonde glances at you, and lets out a laugh when he sees your exhausted state. He gently pats your back, before walking over to go and get the soccer ball. Feeling your heart rate slowly begin to go back to normal, you stand up at your full height as you watch the blonde dribble the soccer ball over to you. Some pieces of his hair stick to his forehead from sweat, and his shirt clings to him a bit as well due to how long the two of you have been playing. 

While that would be the moment during your soccer matches where you would start to feel uncomfortable from the feeling of your wet shirt, and the exhaustion beginning to sink in—you don’t see a trace of that in Jeonghan’s face. There’s a small smile on his lips as he does a few kick tricks with the soccer ball as he makes his way over, and his eyes are full of content when he looks up at you. 

“Jeonghan.” You say when he’s finally standing in front of you, soccer ball resting at your feet as he runs a hand through his long hair. He tilts his head with a grin, “Yn.” 

The corner of your lips quirk upwards as you softly nudge the soccer ball towards his foot, and he stops it with a raised eyebrow. You point to the soccer ball, “What if you tried out for SNU’s soccer team?”

You watch as a frown immediately forms on his face, before amusement floods his eyes. He shakes his head at you with a grin as he starts to dribble the soccer ball towards the middle of the field, “Good joke. Is this your way of trying to flatter me out of playing another round?” 

You bite your bottom lip, having not thought that he would think you were joking when you asked him the question. Pressing your hands together, you take a step towards him, “I’m not kidding, Jeonghan.” 

The blonde physically pauses, resting his foot on top of the soccer ball to stop it as well. He glances back at you with a furrow to his brows, and you give him a hopeful smile. 

“Jaehyun spoke to me this morning.” You begin, and Jeonghan blinks at the name, waiting for you to continue. Squeezing your hands, you shrug your shoulders, “He told me he saw us playing the other day, and he said you were really good. He said that if you were interested in trying out for SNU’s soccer team for next year, then let him know and he can help out.” 

Silence falls between the two of you after you explain what happened. You wait with bated breath as you stare at the blonde in front of you, watching as conflicting emotions flood his face at what you had just offered. After a moment, he turns to you with a serious expression.

“No.”

You blink at his answer, before a frown takes over your own features, “Did you just say no?” 

“Yeah, my answer is no.” Jeonghan tells you, and turns around to start dribbling the soccer ball again. You blink again, before hurrying over and grabbing his arm to stop him from avoiding you. “W-Why? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Jeonghan–” 

“Yn!” Jeonghan exclaims, making you jump slightly at the rise in his voice. He turns to look at you with wide eyes, and that’s when you notice the grief and anger deep in his brown eyes as he stares at you. “I don’t care if it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity. I’m not interested.” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, and he rips his arm out of your grasp to start kicking the soccer ball again. Clenching your fists at your side, you reach out and grab his arm again, ignoring the sigh he lets out at your persistence. 

“You’re not interested?” You begin, anger slowly rising in you as the blonde refuses to look at you. Glaring at the back of his head, you hold his arm tightly as you continue, “I know that’s bullshit, Yoon Jeonghan, and you do too! Playing this fucking sport is almost like water and oxygen for you, it’s something that you love! You think I don’t see the longing in your eyes whenever you’re watching the soccer team practice outside on the field during class? Or the pure excitement in your gaze whenever I suggest that we play soccer after school?” 

Jeonghan stays silent at your words, continuing to stare down at the ground as he keeps his back to you. Pressing your lips into a thin line, you gently pull his arm to try and get him to look at you. 

“Jeonghan, I know that you want to get back into playing soccer competitively. This is your chance, why don’t you take it–” 

“Once in a lifetime opportunity.” Jeonghan cuts you off in a quiet voice, and you suck in a breath when he finally turns to look at you, and you see the tears trailing down his face. He tilts his head at you, “Do you really think that it’s fair for me to take this chance, when Jisoo didn’t even get a chance to have a once in a lifetime opportunity?” 

Your bottom lip quivers at the mention of his younger sister, and you quietly murmur, “Jeonghan…”

“Jisoo didn’t even get a chance to live out the rest of her life, and you expect me to believe that it’s fair for me to do that for her? For me to take all of these chances, and do all of these things, when she spent the remainder of her life inside of a hospital room? How is that fair?” Jeonghan rants, tears falling past his eyes as he stares at you. 

He shakes his head as he sucks in a shaky breath, “Even… even when she was alive, I…” The blonde trails off, looking up at the sky as he tries to swallow the lump that’s forming in his throat. He looks back down at you with red eyes, “Even when Jisoo was alive, I wasn’t. I was waking up everyday, and living my life full of hate. I had so much hate and anger towards the world for what they did to my sister, and I was so fucking exhausted of living. I was in so much pain, but I tried to act strong for her, for Jisoo. I was a shell of who I used to be, and the only time I felt whole, was when I was with her.” 

Tears flood your eyes at his words, finally hearing of the pain and suffering that Jeonghan’s been dealing with by himself. 

“And yet, Jisoo was so full of life! Even with her diagnosis, she still smiled and laughed, still saw the good in this world no matter how much pain she was in from the illness the world bestowed upon her. She was so precious, too kind for this world. As the days went on, I watched her get weaker, and I felt so useless because I couldn’t do anything to protect her from it, but Jisoo was strong. I thought I was acting strong for her, when in reality, she was acting strong for the both of us. And there I was, her beloved older brother that she idolized, secretly planning his own death if the world decided to be cruel to Jisoo one last time.”

Jeonghan lets out a tired breath after the confession leaves his lips, and he tilts his head at you, “So tell me, yn. Tell me how it’s fair for me to live my life happily when my sister, who deserved it more than me, didn’t get the chance to?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, silence falling over the two of you as you simply shake your head at him. At this, he reaches up and wipes away the tears in his eyes, tilting his head up towards the sky as he sucks in deep breaths to try and calm himself down. 

“It’s not fair that Jisoo’s life got taken away from her when she was so young, and had so many hopes and dreams.” You whisper, and the blonde turns to you. He stares in silence as you gently squeeze his arm, “But Jisoo left this world with one last dream she sought to fulfill... and it was for you to live your life to its full potential, even if she couldn’t be there to see it.”

You watch as tears flood Jeonghan’s eyes again, and you feel tears of your own begin to cascade down your face as you give him a heartbreaking smile, 

“A few weeks before she died, Jisoo told me this, I can die happy knowing that Jeonghan has someone like you to love him for all that he is, and all that he will be.” 

You watch as the last of Jeonghan’s will to appear strong completely crumbles at your words, and he lets out a sob as the tears fall from his eyes immediately. He rips his arm out of your grasp again and takes a few steps away from you, and you cover your mouth to silence your cries as you watch him let out an anguished scream up towards the sky. 

He runs his hands through his hair as he cries out to the sky, and you cry quietly when he flings himself down onto the grass of the field. It’s after a few minutes when the two of you begin to calm down, that you walk over and lay down right beside him. The two of you stare up at the stars in silence, gaze stuck on a particularly bright star shining down onto the both of you.

“Yn.” Jeonghan mutters, voice hoarse from the screams he let out. You blink tiredly, and turn to look at him as you say, “Hm?” 

The blonde blinks up at the bright star, and he raises his hand up towards it as if he’s trying to reach it. You watch in silence as his delicate fingers reach for the star, until he whispers, 

“I think it’s time to get rid of the blonde.”

It’s hours later in the evening, after a quick trip to the convenience store to buy hair dye and gloves, that you spend the rest of the night with Jeonghan in your bathroom as you color his blonde hair while the two of you quietly talk about all of your memories of Jisoo. 

It’s in the wee hours of the morning when the two of you finish, and you fall asleep on the floor of your bedroom beside a newly dyed Jeonghan. 

The early morning sun that peeks through your curtains shines down onto the sleeping Jeonghan, highlighting his hair that’s now dyed a vibrant lilac, in honor of Jisoo’s favorite color.

“Jung Jaehyun!” You call out from the end of the hallway, and you watch as the brunette looks up, just for his eyes to widen slightly at the sight of Jeonghan’s bright purple hair. You giggle at the sight, and Jeonghan lets out a breath from beside you as you give his hand a squeeze, before making him walk faster.

“Dude, your hair looks sick. How does it still look so healthy too?” Jaehyun asks with an awestruck expression on his face, and you turn to see Jeonghan’s ears turning a bit red at the compliment, making you laugh quietly to yourself. The man at your side shrugs his shoulders, squeezing your hand as he replies, “I make sure to use good hair conditioning products.” 

Jaehyun lets out a quiet, ah, that makes sense, before turning to you with a grin. You return the smile and nudge Jeonghan’s shoulder with your own, “He said he’s interested in trying out.” 

Jaehyun’s eyes widen in excitement at your words, and you watch as the two begin to converse excitedly about the sport and how the brunette will help Jeonghan get into try-outs. 

You glance down at your phone to check the time, and your eyes linger on the date that flashes into your eyes. 

Monday, April 15

Five more days until your birthday.

On this day in the past, is when you gave Jeonghan the invitation.

The same invitation that’s in your backpack that is at the forefront of your mind as you watch Jeonghan and Jaehyun converse, and you feel your heart warm at the sight of Jeonghan’s smile. It was a sight that was so rare only a few months ago, but is now a view that you’re blessed to see everyday.

Jeonghan’s changed in the months since you’ve traveled back in time, and you think that you were able to change the past. However, you don’t know for sure until Saturday comes. 

You bite the inside of your cheek, knowing that you’re not contributing to anything that’s going on in Jeonghan and Jaehyun’s conversation. Yet, you’re awkwardly standing there, holding Jeonghan’s hand as you just watch them converse. 

“I feel like a third wheel.” You murmur to yourself, and decide to take a step back and slowly remove your hand from Jeonghan’s grasp. As you do so, however, your heart thumps in your chest when he suddenly re-adjusts his grip on your hand so that his fingers intertwine with yours. You look up from your interlocked hands to find him smiling softly to himself, and you bite back a smile when he gives your hand a gentle squeeze.

“Okay, I’ll make sure to update you when I get more information.” Jaehyun tells Jeonghan with an excited grin, and Jeonghan nods his head in agreement. The brunette turns to you, and you blink in surprise when he pouts. 

“Why is Valentine Boy pouting at me?” 

“Because you never invite me when you and Jeonghan play soccer together. This is the first time he and I have properly spoken, and he immediately invited me to the next time you guys play! You and I have been friends since Freshman year!” Jaehyun complains, and you teasingly roll your eyes, reaching out to gently push his shoulder. He chuckles and pats your head as he steps past you, “I’ll see you both tomorrow for our soccer date~” 

“You wish it was a date!” You call out to him with a laugh, and he turns around to point towards yours and Jeonghan’s interlocked hands.

“I know when I’m a thirdwheel, yn.” Jaehyun tells you with a wink, and warmth immediately floods your face at the fact that he pointed out your public display of affection. He grins and waves his hand at you both, “See you!” 

And with that, the two of you watch as Jaehyun disappears among the crowd of students. You let out a breath, before turning towards Jeonghan with a smile, 

“So… are you excited to be the star soccer player at Seoul National University?!” 

Jeonghan chuckles with a roll of his eyes, and just drags you to the classroom without answering your question. 

“Are you and Jeonghan dating now or…” You give Yeji a look, and she raises her hands up, clearly exasperated by your expression. “What?! I feel like it’s a totally valid question to ask since the two of you came into class today holding hands!”

You snort at her desperation, and she lets out a whine as she reaches out to grasp your hands and shake them. Smiling at your friend, you give her hand a squeeze before standing up from the lunch table. Yeji whines even louder as she watches you stand, and you laugh as you pick up your lunch tray. 

“Yn! Please, you have to tell me.”

You simply shrug your shoulders with a small smile, “Jeonghan and I are just… us. We’re Jeonghan and yn, yn and Jeonghan. That’s all.” 

With that last remark, you turn around and walk over towards the garbage area to put away your lunch tray. You reach your hands up to cup your face when you exit the cafeteria, feeling the warmth to your cheeks as you head in the direction of the stairwell. 

“Gosh, that girl. She should focus on her own love life instead of hounding me about mine.” You murmur embarrassedly, but the shy smile that threatens to appear on your lips shows that you’re anything but annoyed by your sweet friend. 

Sucking in a deep breath after you enter the hallway, you reach into the pocket of your jacket and take out the envelope that holds Jeonghan’s invitation to your birthday party. Holding it behind your back, you walk over to the stairwell and stand at the entrance, watching as the lilac haired beauty quietly eats his lunch with his airpods in. 

“You know, you could eat lunch with me and Yeji in the cafeteria instead of in the stairwell everyday.” You state, making your presence known. Jeonghan takes out an airpod and turns to find you standing there with a small smile, and the corner of his lips quirk upwards as he pats the spot on the step beside him. “It’s too loud in there. I enjoy my quiet lunches here.” 

You chuckle and plop down beside him, hiding the invitation at your side as you watch him pick up a piece of kimbap with his chopsticks. You blink when he suddenly turns to you, an expectant look on his face as he gestures towards your mouth. 

“Say ahh~” Jeonghan says in a singsong voice, and you roll your eyes but comply, allowing him to feed you the kimbap his mother made. You chew on the yummy food, having always loved his mother’s cooking since you were kids. 

“So, has anyone confessed to you yet? I think the lilac hair makes you stand out more than the blonde did.” You tease, and Jeonghan scoffs as he places a piece of kimchi into his mouth. He points at you with his chopsticks, “Would you be jealous if I said yes?”

You squint, “No.”

“Well then, I’ll tell you that three people left me love letters in my desk—”

“THREE?!” You exclaim, and warmth immediately floods your face when the pretty boy in front of you starts to guffaw at your reaction. You bite your bottom lip and lean back, fixing your hair as you quietly correct yourself, “I-I mean, woah! Three people?”

Jeonghan continues to laugh at you, the beautiful sound ringing throughout the stairwell as you complain about him making fun of you. He just shakes his head as his laughter begins to die down, looking at you with an indecipherable emotion in his eyes as he reaches out and pats your head. 

“Don’t worry, I turned them down.” 

You press your lips into a thin line and turn away from Jeonghan, but he doesn’t fail to notice the small smile playing on your lips as you stare out the window behind you both. He grins and looks out the window as well, watching as the birds fly past the school in the bright blue sky. 

You spare a glance at the pretty boy, and you feel your heart thump in your chest when you see the look of content on his face as he stares out the window. Biting the inside of your cheek, you reach for the invitation at your side, and softly say his name. 

“Mm?” Jeonghan murmurs, continuing to stare out the window as his eyes follow the cloud that’s shaped like a flower. Smiling to yourself, you reach out and place the invitation on his lap, and he’s snapped out of his daze to glance down at what you’ve given him. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow as he puts his lunch down beside him in order to pick up the envelope, “What’s this?”

You shrug your shoulders and gesture towards it, “You have to open it to find out.” 

Jeonghan squints at you, then proceeds to gently open up the envelope. You watch in anticipation as he opens up the card, your heart thumping against your chest as he takes a second to look it over. He glances up at you after a moment, “I almost forgot that you aren’t eighteen yet.”

Relief washes over you almost immediately at his teasing response, and you reach out to slap his shoulder. He lets out a hiss and rubs the tender area while shooting you a playful glare, “Is this how you try to get people to come to your birthday parties? If so, this tactic is not good.” 

You chuckle and nudge him with your knee, feeling a bit more serious as you ask, “Will you come, Jeonghan?” 

“Do you want me there?” Jeonghan asks in response, and you feel your heart leap in your chest at the question. It reminds you too much of the past, when he didn’t believe that you would suddenly want him back in your life. 

“Always.” You whisper, and the two of you stare into each other’s eyes for a moment. It’s almost like that day in the hospital when you were caught secretly surprising Jisoo, where all these unsaid words were spoken through your gazes alone. 

Jeonghan’s the first to break eye contact, and he safely tucks away your invitation into the pocket of his jacket. It’s when he’s sure that your invitation is safe in his pocket that he finally looks back up at you, and a smile takes over your features when he softly says,

“Then I’ll be there.”

“Yn! Come on, we’re about to bring out the cake!” You hear your mom call out to you, but your gaze is locked on your front door as you wait for Jeonghan to come. Yeji squeezes your knee from beside you, and you turn to look at her, just to see a reassuring smile on her face as she tells you, “I’m sure he’s on his way, don’t worry.” 

“He promised he’d come.” You choke out, feeling panic rise in your chest as all the possibilities flood your thoughts. 

Maybe you were wrong all this time and you weren’t truly helping Jeonghan. What if he was just acting? Like he was just pretending to be okay in front of you so that you wouldn’t worry? What if you couldn’t change his mind after all?

What if I couldn’t change the past? You think to yourself, feeling a lump form in your throat as you contemplate leaving your own birthday party to go and find Jeonghan. 

It’s when you’re about to jump up from the couch to sprint out the door that you see the knob of your front door turn, and tears immediately flood your eyes when you see that familiar head of lilac colored hair enter your house. You quickly stand up from the couch and run over to him, “Yoon Jeonghan!” 

The man in question gives you a sheepish smile as he holds out the bouquet of flowers in his hand, “I’m sorry I’m late! I was having a hard time picking out what flowers to give you, so I had to get my mom to come with me and—”

His words are cut off when you suddenly throw your arms around him in a tight embrace, and he can only blink in shock when you let out a shaky breath into the side of his neck. He slowly wraps his arms around your frame, “Does this mean you’re not mad?” 

You shake your head as you try to stop the tears from falling past your eyes when you tell him, “No, never. As long as you’re here, that’s all that matters to me.”

When you finally pull away, you take the bouquet of flowers from his grasp with a small smile. He watches fondly as you lean down to smell the petals, and he chuckles when your eyes widen in surprise at the smell. 

“Oh my God, they actually smell really good! Usually flowers just smell like… earth.” You say, and he nods his head. “I remembered that you had a sensitive nose, so I wanted to get you a bouquet that actually smelled nice.”

Your heart thumps against your chest at the fact that he remembered such a small detail about you, and you smile widely at him. You’re about to ask him if he wants to help you pick out a vase to put the flowers in when you suddenly hear, 

“Yn! It’s cake time!”

Jeonghan’s eyes widen when he sees your parents beginning to light the candles on your birthday cake, and he quickly grasps your hand and pulls you towards the table where all your loved ones are gathered. You let out a laugh as he places you in the seat directly in front of the birthday cake while taking the bouquet of flowers and placing it on the kitchen counter. 

You watch as he moves awkwardly to stand beside your mother on the other side of the table, and you have to hold back your laughter when she fusses over him and makes the pretty boy sit in the seat directly across from you. The two of you look into each other’s eyes, and he pretends to move to blow out your candles, to which you shoot him a glare.

“Okay, time to sing happy birthday!” Your father announces, and you shyly smile as everyone around you begins to sing you happy birthday. 

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you!” 

You giggle at your loved ones as they sing loudly around you, and you raise a hand up to your face as you feel warmth flood your face. Yeji wraps her arms around you from the seat beside you, and you rest your head on top of hers as you clap your hands to the beat of everyone’s singing. Your gaze falls on Jeonghan, and you smile softly when you see the look of warmth in his eyes as he sings directly to you.

“Happy birthday dear yn, happy birthday to you!”

“Okay honey, make a wish.” Your mom says with a big smile, her phone held up towards you as she takes a video. Yeji releases you from her embrace, and you fix your posture as you look into the camera with a grin. You glance around the room to see all your loved ones waiting with excited smiles on their faces for you to blow out the candles, and you feel nothing but happiness when your gaze trails over to Jeonghan sitting in front of you. 

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, and you silently thank everything in this world for allowing you to have this moment. This chance to change the past and bring back the person that means the most to you in this world. The chance for Yoon Jeonghan to live out the rest of his beautiful life.

He gives you a warm smile and gestures towards the candles that are burning on top of your cake, ready to be wished upon. The corners of your lips quirk upwards at the sight, and you close your eyes as you silently wish,

I wish for Yoon Jeonghan to live a long and happy life.

And with that, you open your eyes and blow out the candles.

You tiptoe down the hallway and press your ear to your parents’ bedroom door, confirming whether or not they’re fast asleep. A grin forms on your face when you can hear the loud sound of your father’s snores, and you turn back down the hallway to shoot Jeonghan a thumbs up. 

You sneak the pretty boy into your room, and quietly shut your bedroom door while Jeonghan grabs a pillow off your bed and plops down onto the floor. A smile forms on your lips at the sight of Jeonghan laying on your floor dressed in a pair of sweats and your old oversized middle school gym shirt.

“Damn, your parents fall asleep early.” Jeonghan murmurs from your floor, and you snort as you step over to your bed and pull off the throw blanket. “Tell me about it. They’re like an elderly couple who sleeps at 6 pm.” 

You toss the blanket onto Jeonghan’s frame, and he gives you his thanks as he unfolds it and lays it over himself. Letting out a sigh, you take your other pillow off your bed and toss it down on the empty space beside Jeonghan’s head. 

You plop yourself down onto the floor alongside the pretty boy, and he immediately adjusts the blanket so that it’s covering you as well. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you as the moonlight shines in through your bedroom window, illuminating your room in a soft light. 

“How do you feel being 18?” Jeonghan asks after a moment, with the two of you staring up at your white ceiling. 

“It feels great.”

“Yeah, I agree. I’ve been 18 for months already, so I would know.” Jeonghan teases, and you roll your eyes. You gently nudge him in the ribs after a moment, eliciting a laugh from the pretty boy beside you. 

“What did you wish for? It looked like you were really concentrating.” Jeonghan asks, and you turn your head to find him already staring at you. Warmth floods your face immediately at the close proximity between the two of you, while Jeonghan just smiles.

“Hi.” 

“Hi.”

“Now that we’ve got our greetings out of the way, tell me what you wished for.” He says, rolling onto his side so that he’s facing you. You chuckle and turn your gaze back up towards the ceiling, “You’re a nosy bastard. You know that saying whatever you wished for does not come true.”

“Well, if you just say one word of what you wished for, then it’s technically not saying the whole wish.”

“What if your wish was just one word?” 

“Then that’s a lame wish.” You let out a laugh at his fast response, making a warm smile form on Jeonghan’s lips. Turning to him, you see him waiting expectantly for you to tell him your wish, and you let out a breath as you turn your head back up towards the ceiling.

You blink up at the white ceiling, before finally whispering,

“You.”

“Hm?” 

“I wished for you.” You murmur quietly, turning your head so that you’re facing Jeonghan again. He blinks at your words, and a small smile forms on his lips. 

Jeonghan’s different now. There’s little sight of the exhaustion that used to heavily weigh him down when you first traveled back in time—from the dark bags under his eyes, to the emptiness in his gaze whenever he had looked at you. Instead, there’s a sparkle to his eyes that you’ve never seen before, a sight that you can almost get lost in if you look for too long. 

And there’s that emotion in his gaze whenever he stares into your eyes, the one you haven’t been able to make out for the last three months.

You feel your heart stop in your chest when Jeonghan slowly leans in after a moment, and you let your eyelids flutter shut when he presses a featherlight kiss to your forehead. You open your eyes to find him staring at you with a content smile on his face after he pulls back, and your heart soars when you finally decipher the emotion that was in Jeonghan’s eyes all this time.

Love. It was love.

“Happy Birthday, yn.” Jeonghan whispers as his eyes begin to close, and you watch as he lets his battle with sleep win. You smile softly as you reach out and tuck a strand of his lilac hair behind his ear, allowing yourself to drink in this beautiful sight. 

“I love you, Yoon Jeonghan.” You murmur, your eyelids becoming droopier by the second as you stare at the precious boy sleeping beside you. 

The last thing you see before the heavy blanket of sleep pulls you under, is the sight of Jeonghan sitting in front of you as you softly blow out your birthday candle.

Your eyes slowly flutter open as the sunlight shines onto your eyes through your curtains, and you let out a groan at the sight, turning over so that you can hide your face from the light. You feel your blood run cold, however, when you realize that the curtains you saw weren’t the pink ones from your childhood bedroom, but the blackout curtains from your apartment.

You sit up in your bed with wide eyes, frantically looking around your room as you realize that you’re back in your apartment bedroom. Blinking away the exhaustion in your eyes, you reach out and grab your phone from your bedside table, tears immediately flooding your eyes when you see the present date shine back up at you.

April 21st, 2022

 It’s the day after your 21st birthday.

Tears fall from your eyes as you set your phone down, and you cover your face with your hands as sobs begin to wrack through your whole body at the fact that it was a dream. It was all just a drunken dream you had.

But it was real. It all felt too real for it to just be a dream.

You let out a pained laugh as you wipe away the tears falling from your eyes, hugging your knees close to your chest as grief floods you. You wonder if this was Jeonghan’s way of trying to give you closure after you’ve been wishing for him on every birthday of yours for years.

“It feels like I’m going through the five stages of grief again, though.” You murmur as you glance at your bedside table and see the birthday card your 12 friends gave you last night. Letting out a shaky breath, you reach out and pick it up, your eyes trailing over the birthday messages they had written for you. 

A sad smile escapes you as you stare at the dark birthday candle drawing, no longer lit up like it was the night before. You silently wonder if the batteries have already died while reaching your hands up in an attempt to wipe your wet cheeks. However, the tears continue to slowly trail down your face, the overwhelming feeling of grief consuming you. Letting out a shaky breath, you're about to close the card when your eyes land on the once empty space in the top corner of the card. 

You blink, then blink again as you reread the message written.

Happy 21st Birthday, yn. You can finally legally drink with me instead of me having to buy you alcohol, cause, you know, I’m older than you ;)

Here’s to many more birthdays by each other’s side. I love you. 

Love, Jeonghan

Your heart begins to pound against your chest as you stare down at the birthday message in complete and utter disbelief. You’re about to rub your eyes to see if your exhausted brain is just messing with you, when you pause at the sound of Minghao’s voice coming from outside of your bedroom.

“They’re still asleep? Maybe we went too crazy at karaoke.” 

Your head snaps up when you hear a familiar pretty laugh in response to Minghao’s joke, and you practically fall off your bed when you hear his voice reply, “I’m not surprised. Seungcheol was going crazy with the drinking games.” 

When your hand reaches the doorknob, you throw open the door with teary eyes, and you suck in a breath when you find yourself face to face with a surprised Minghao and a 21 year old Jeonghan. 

His pretty, long blonde hair that he adorned in high school is now back to its natural shade of black. It’s cut a bit shorter, but it’s still long enough to cover his eyes slightly. His eyes are bright as they stare into yours, albeit laced with some surprise at your outburst. 

A warm smile forms on his face when he sees your bedhead, and his soft voice calls out, “Honey, you’re finally awake—”

The rest of his sentence is cut off when you rush over and jump into his arms, clinging onto him tightly as he blinks in surprise. Tears fall from your eyes when you feel his arms wrap around you, his hand reaching up to rest on the back of your neck as he lets out a soft laugh. 

“Good morning to you too, yn.” 

You pull back with a light laugh, and his eyes lace with concern when he sees the tears falling from your eyes as you look at him. His hands trail up and cup your face, wiping away the tears on your cheeks as you just stare at him in awe. 

“Honey? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Jeonghan asks worriedly, and he shoots a worried glance at Minghao as your friend steps away to go and get you a box of tissues. 

You just smile brightly at him as you wipe away the tears in your eyes so that you can see the love of your life standing before you clearly. Your heart thumps against your chest at the sight of his beautiful brown eyes, so full of life and adoration as they bore into yours. You giggle and shrug your shoulders, reaching up and tenderly tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. 

“Yn?” Jeonghan asks, the concern beginning to melt away when he sees the pure happiness in your gaze as you look at him. He chuckles in amusement, and leans into your hand, kissing the inside of your wrist as he murmurs, “Are you still drunk? Or just happy to see me?”

And you feel warmth flood your face as you whisper,

“I’m just happy to see that all my wishes have finally come true.” 

ミ★ taglist: @sunlightwoo​ @aurenvoire​ @dreamerhaos​ @brinnalaine​ @minluvly​ @wonunuu​ @suhfluffy​ @shuajeong​ @kuromieiie​ @seoulbinz @minghao-will-be-the-death-of-me​ @miruac​ @jaeyuni​ @sunflowergyeomie​ @cheolliehugs​ @smileyjimvn​ @sukisdeliveryservice​ @a-vian​ @kodzumo​ @dwcljh​ @hanniehaeism​ @taeguk-munchkin​ @w8nuzone​ @jeonncafe​ @semicolorn​ @haonysus​ @adoreateez @anissanightyoung​ @serenadesvt​ @linhyyboo12​ @junjungsunwoo​ @kthpurplesyou​ @vibecheckvernon @changbinworld​ @xupiire @sonje78 @mybbtaeyong4thewin​ @chwesbaby​ @soobin-chois​ @bibinnieposts​ @laylasbunbunny​ 

ミ★ sequel: dear dream​

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]

in holy matriphony ch1. he said yes!! congrats!!

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency dept, just got broken up with your boyfriend of seven years, and have been taking care of your sick mother ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket to more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance plan in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation w him is worth any amount of money.

ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity; btw gojo in this fic is in his mid 30s n reader is in her late 20s

ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!

ᰔ chapter. 1/x (probably 10)

ᰔ words. 7.8k

a/n. hellooo omg welcome to this debut chapter!! tysm to everyone who wanted to be on taglist for this!! i was gagged at the amount of people!! yall are amazing omg n thanks for supporting my works :''') hope you enjoy this chapter and i will see all you lovelies at the bottom <33

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Love thy neighbor.

Cherish thy neighbor.

Tolerate thy neighbor.

Peacefully coexist with thy neighbor. 

Fuck thy neighbor? No, wait, not that one.

It’s murder thy neighbor. That was the phrase you were looking for.

Murder thy neighbor so gruesomely that you’d leave no trace behind. Murder him and bury him somewhere no one could ever find him, so that even in millions of years from now when some other highly advanced mammalian species overtakes the planet and embarks on journeys to acquire fossils, thy neighbor will still never grace the atmospheric oxygen of the earth ever again. It’s the punishment he’d deserve for thoroughly pissing you off at the worst times possible and in the worst ways possible. The smallest of prices to pay.

“SATORU!!!” you yell, storming up the sudsy driveway of your next-door neighbor’s house at eight in the morning, clad in your dirty scrubs from the hell of a night shift you just endured working at the hospital, glass containers inside the lunchbox you were holding hitting painfully against the poor joint in your knee but you just don’t care. Anger is all you can see right now.

Your neighbor (derogatory) stands there in his pajamas with a spray nozzle in his hands, passively spraying water across the top surface of his car, and when he sees you, he pulls his left airpod out of his ear and looks you up and down once. You’re pretty sure there’s steam coming out of your ears. “Uh, do you mind? I’m trying to wash my car.”

“How many fucking times do I have to tell you not to park your stupid boat in front of my driveway?!” you yell at him, voice hoarse and nails digging into the skin of your palms by the clench of your fists.

“Hm?” he leans back a little to glance past you to his boat. “Oh, you mean my 2023 Boston Whaler 220 Dauntless with low profile bow rail welded stainless steel, Mercury FourStroke hydraulic power steering and, not to mention, a platinum gelcoat hull? That silly old thing? It’s not even parked in front of your driveway.”

“Yes. It is. Are you blind? I can’t move my car into my garage, hence why it’s running idle on the fucking street right now. Your boat’s on my property.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes. It is.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh. Yuh-huh.”

“Honey. I’m a real estate agent. You don’t think I’d know where my own property line starts and ends?”

“Park. It. On. Your. Drive. Way.”

“I spent a lot of money on that boat,” he sighs, “I intend to show it off on the street. Stop acting like there isn’t more than enough room for your tiny prius. It’s not my fault you have the motor skills of a toddler and don’t know how to pull into a driveway,” he pauses for a second and tilts his head upwards in thought, “Oh. Motor skills, haha, get it? Fuck, that’s funny. Hold on, I gotta jot that down,” he pulls his phone out of the pocket of his cotton plaid pajama pants, “my niece would love that. She gets all giggly about puns these days. It’s her birthday next weekend, by the way, turning five.”

“Oh, right,” you scratch the top of your head (been too busy to wash your hair), and realize the ponytail you threw your hair up into at the beginning of your shift last night is now barely hanging on for dear life, “I forgot to tell you, but my cousin said he can’t rent that pony out for her birthday party anymore. Apparently it died.”

He stares at you. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Damn.”

“Mm.”

He shrugs. “That’s fine, thanks anyway,” he swipes up on his phone, “they had crazy hair day at my niece’s elementary school yesterday, wanna see a picture?”

“Sure.”

He turns his phone to show you. “My sister let her cut her hair a little shorter this time since she wouldn’t stop asking. I guess all her friends at school were cutting theirs short too so they wanted to be matching.”

“Aww,” you pout with a small smile when you see the picture, “I think it suits her. That’s a lot of glitter though, y’know that stuff’s really bad for the environment.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, turning his phone screen back to face him, “anyway. I was halfway convinced you just came from some crazy hair day when I saw you stomp up my driveway just now.”

“I’m gonna guillotine your head off with the trunk door of my car. Now move your boat.”

“Hold on one sec,” he says, holding a finger right up to your face, and you flinch backwards slightly before going cross-eyed to stare at it, and then you’re glaring at him again. His phone is ringing in his hand. “I gotta take this.”

“Wha–” you try to interrupt him, but he just says shhh and shakes his finger in front of you, which makes you want to bite it off.

“Hi, Donna!” he exclaims into his phone, “so good to hear from you. Oh, no, not at all, you caught me at the perfect time. I’m just washing my car. Nah, you’re not interrupting anything.”

The urge to smack him consumes you.

“Oh okay, cool, I’m glad you took some time to think about it. Let me know when you want to meet again, if you’re still interested in the house, we can make an offer. Uh huh. Yeah. Sorry, what’s that? Oh,” he pulls his phone from his ear to look at the time, “yeah, that’s fine. Is that the one on 6th street? Sure, I’ll see you then. By the way, how was little Tommy’s soccer game yesterday?...Aw, that’s okay, he’ll get the next one. Hm? Yeah, what’s up? Oh, you know that I’d love to, and there’s no one that enjoys your green bean casserole more than I do, but I’m actually busy tonight! I know! Bummer! Maybe some other time? Alright. Yeah, thanks, you too. Take care. Bye.” He presses the end call on his phone, and there’s an awkward silence as he narrows his eyes at the screen in concentration for a moment while typing something onto it, and then the corner of his eye catches sight of something in his periphery, that something being you, and he jumps a little.

“Oh fuck,” he places a hand on his chest and exhales, “I didn’t know you were still standing there.”

“I’m seriously going to whack you across the face with my lunch box right now.” 

“That gigantic industrial lunch box you carry around for your 12-hour shifts?” he points at your hand, “you’d have blood on your hands. I’d be dead.”

“Yeah, that’s the goal, idiot.”

“You’re so fucking violent, jeez, I bet the inside of your head looks like the inside of Jeffrey Dahmer’s. How do you sleep at night?”

“With fifteen milligrams of melatonin, blackout curtains, a satin sleeping mask, and in the mornings.”

“...that didn’t make you sound like any less of a serial killer.”

“Whatever, at least I don’t have a complex for elderly divorced women. You know that what you do for work isn’t any better than prostitution, right?” 

“Okay. Now I have to hear where you’re going with this.”

You cross your arms across your chest, and your gigantic industrial sized lunch box with the millions of glass containers inside of it hits your hip painfully, enough to warrant a wince, but you keep a straight face as to not show any weakness. “You flirt with vulnerable women who have just gotten out of probably extremely heartbreaking marriages from their cheating country golf club husbands, and pretend to care about all their drama, just so that they’d buy a house from you. I literally heard you say to a lady the other day,” and you do your absolute best to mock him in the most insulting way possible, “‘it’s okay Lorraine. If you’re still struggling to fill your new house with someone new too, then you know where to find me.’”

“Yeah. She wanted to rent out her guest bedroom. I was gonna help her look for tenants.” 

“O-Oh,” you stutter, but stand up straighter, “doesn’t matter. You still pimp yourself out for a sale.”

“So what if I do? I’m hot, why wouldn’t I take advantage of that? You could’ve done the same thing too, but you didn’t, and now you’re stuck working miserable nursing shifts that are probably taking years off of your lifespan.”

“You’re the one taking years off of my lifespan. Now move your fucking boat.”

He sighs and slips his phone back into his pocket before walking past you to your car, that still had the driver’s side door open and was idle in the middle of the street.

“W-Where are you going?” you ask.

“I’m gonna park your car in your garage for you,” he says, waving his hand up in the air dismissively because he knows you’re about to protest, and then he ducks his head into your car, reaching his arm in for the lever that moves the seat backwards, and adjusts it all the way back before he’s able to take a seat at the wheel. And your yelling is a pestering he pays no mind to as he shuts the door.

“Wait– I didn’t give you permission to–” you shout as you step into your driveway, holding your arms out because you’re scared he’s gonna chip off your side mirror on the stern of his boat, but he deftly pulls your car into the driveway. He also almost runs you over in the process.

When he gets out of your car inside your garage, you storm right up to him and yank your car keys out of his hand. “You almost flattened me over my own driveway.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have been standing there,” he easily retorts and leans against your car before crossing his arms over his chest. “Also, case proven, there’s more than enough space to pull your car in. You’re just piss poor at parking.”

“I swear to fucking god. If you’re ever in a life-threatening emergency and wind up at my hospital, your emergency isn’t going to be the thing that kills you, it’s gonna be the cocktail of deadly meds I inject straight into your veins. And I’ll have it charted like it was a death of natural causes.”

His brow furrows and he frowns, but it’s in that sarcastic way that tells you he’s not threatened by you, and the idea of using the taser in your purse on him is briefly entertained in your mind, “I’ve got Kaiser, hun,” he says, “I wouldn’t go to just any regional hospital for healthcare. Put some damn decorum on my name, Jesus.”

“How is it you’re stupid, an asshole, have a sick fetish for elderly women, and also somehow classist at the same time? Can you pick a struggle please?”

“Stop saying I have a fetish for elderly women,” he hisses at you, “especially with that loud obnoxious voice of yours. Our neighbors are gonna think I’m a creep.” He pretends to shiver.

“But it’s true. I bet you lost your virginity to a fifty-year-old cougar the day you turned eighteen. And to one that was probably grooming you even before then, too.”

His eyes widen. “Damn. How’d you know.”

“That you’re a victim?” you ask, tone derisive, “your entire personality is living proof. Please seek help.”

He rolls his eyes. “I was never groomed, and I didn’t lose my virginity to an elderly woman,” he corrects you, “...although said woman was a little older than me.”

“I’ve literally got no fucking interest in this conversation anymore. Get the fuck out of my garage,” you practically spat at him, “the last thing I need to deal with after getting off of a 12-hour night shift is coming home to your stupid face out on the street.” You push past him, making sure to nudge him with your shoulder but he hardly budges, and you lose balance from your own attack, and now you’re doubly pissed off before you make it to the door with your keys jingling in your hand to find the right one to unlock it.

“Good night,” he calls out to you, and you click the button on the garage door so that it starts closing, and watch him as he panics before ducking his head underneath it to make it outside before you can essentially lock him to rot inside of your garage, and then you shut the door behind you, finally inside the comfort of your home.

Ah. Silence.

But it was never a comfortable one. 

“Mom?” you call out as you open the door out of the laundry room to make it into the living room, and your eyes scan the floor. You don’t see her in the kitchen, or on the couch in front of the TV, sometimes she spends time in the pantry room but she’s not in there today. You round the corner over to where the front entrance of the house is, and you see her standing there, peering out of the window to the other houses on the streets. She holds her hands loosely behind her back, and she’s so still she could be a statue.

“Hey,” you say to her, softly, so as not to startle her. “I’m home.”

She looks over her shoulder at you, and you realize her line of sight was set to next door, where you see Gojo has resumed the wash of his car. “Why are you yelling at that sweet boy across the lawn?” she asks you, “he helped me fix the air conditioning last week.”

Your eyes widen slightly, but then you sigh. Typical Gojo getting involved where he should really just mind his own business. “I’m pretty sure by fix you mean he just pressed a bunch of buttons on the thermostat until it started working again.” 

She doesn’t respond as she continues to stare out onto the street, tilting her head slightly while deep in thought, like she’s trying to make sense of what she sees. 

“Mom,” you gently tug her sleeve, “I think you should get away from the window and get some rest. You look tired, and I need to take you for chemo in the afternoon.”

She gently pulls her elbow away from your grip of her sleeve and turns to look at you. “Mom?” she repeats after you, “why are you calling me ‘mom’? Who are you?”

Your blood runs cold from her words, but you don’t have the time or the luxury to react in the way that you want to, and so you suck in a deep breath. It was one of those days. But it’s cruel that she’ll remember your neighbor and not her own daughter. “I’m your daughter,” you gently reintroduce yourself, to the woman who gave you life, “I know that might be a little weird to hear right now.”

“No…” she says, “I think that makes sense. I’m sorry, dear, I think I have a bad memory these days.” She looks at you with concentration, studying the features of your face. “My daughter, yes. You look…oh, dear, you look like you should sleep.”

You nod slowly, releasing the breath you were holding. “Yes. You too, mom.”

You place your gigantic industrial lunch box on the kitchen counter, and come back to hold your mom’s hands as you lead her to her bedroom downstairs. By the time you fix her a small meal in the kitchen, bring it to her and make her eat so she can take her pills, she’s ready to take a small nap and you know that you’ve earned some sleep now too.

The upstairs master bathroom beckons you the second you get upstairs, and even though you’ve been using the master bedroom & bathroom in this house ever since moving your mom downstairs four years ago since she had trouble getting up the stairs, it still feels odd to stand in front of the sink without a stool underneath your feet, like what you had to when you were a kid and your mother would braid your hair. You’re a grown woman now, and as you stare at your reflection, you’re not sure if you can recognize yourself anymore. But rather than dwell on if it was because of any profound reason, you figured you just needed a shower and to get some sleep before you have to wake up again in five hours. Exhaustion is evident on your face, and you swipe under your eyes to get the smudge of mascara off before it tattoos your skin forever. 

Hot water on your skin does little to help your drowsiness, but at least now you feel clean of your shift, and then you remember there are blood stains on your shoes from the stab wound patient that rolled in at 2AM last night, and you should really let them soak for a few hours while you sleep, but you just can’t bother right now. Instead, you slip into something comfortable, draw your curtains back to mimic the dead of night in your room as best as you can, grab the bottle of melatonin sitting at your nightstand and pop a few tablets, feeling feverish as you slip into your sheets. You pull the comforter up over your eyes, a decision that is less ideal than using a sleeping mask since you’ll be breathing your own carbon dioxide until you fall asleep now, but it’s okay. It’s cozy under your blanket. Just this once. And you count sheep to make you sleepy. At least until the melatonin beats you to it.

—

“You’re looking better,” Dr. Johnson says to your mother as he accesses the port on her chest, “were you able to get a good rest?”

Your mother nods and points to you. “My daughter made me take a nap.”

“That’s good,” he coos, “it’s good to get rest before chemo. Your daughter really cares about you.”

“I know,” your mother smiles up at you, “I’m so lucky.” You return her smile with one of your own.

Dr. Johnson starts to push the line of chemo into your mother’s port as she sits on the chair in the treatment lounge, and then stands up from his rolling chair before the nurse quickly moves to twiddle with the drip of the IV bag. 

“Ready for consult?” he asks you.

You grip your binder to your chest. “Yeah.”

You walk into the doctor’s office, one you’ve more than familiarized yourself with over the past couple of years, then take a seat across from Dr. Johnson’s desk as he clicks through his computer before handing you a copy of your mother’s recent lab work.

“Her tumor markers are rising,” you say as you sift through the papers.

“They are, we’ll likely switch to monitoring them every four weeks going forward. But it’s okay, not to worry,” he says, “tumor markers can raise for all sorts of reasons unrelated to cancer.”

“She had a cold last week,” you say, “maybe it’s the inflammation?”

Dr. Johnson lets out a small laugh. “I’m sorry, y/n, sometimes I forget you’re a nurse.” He hums to himself as he pens down something on the notepad in front of him. “When was your mother’s last PET/CT scan?”

“It was in February,” you say, “she’s due soon. I was going to ask if you could order one for her.”

“Yes, I will, I’ll do it right now,” he says as he types something into the computer. “You still have the standing orders for her routine lab work, correct? Do my MAs need to send you the scripts?”

“No, that’s okay, I got them already. Good for six months,” you reassure him.

“Alright, perfect.”

There’s an awkward silence that settles in the room as you shift in your seat with the binder in your lap, full of all of your mother’s medical information and emergency department discharge packets and recent lab work and imaging. You mess with the plastic cover on top of it nervously.

“It’s good she remembers you today,” Dr. Johnson comments, “I remember last week you were upset she didn’t.”

“Oh,” you say, “yeah, I’m sorry. Sometimes it’s hard.”

His eyes leave his computer screen for a second to look at you. “Are you doing alright?”

You nod slowly. You had to be alright, you had no other choice. “I’m fine, thanks,” you say, “um, actually, doc, I just wanted to share with you that I’ve been keeping track of my mom’s Alzheimer’s progression.” You open your binder in your lap, pulling out a packet of papers and placing them on his desk, turning some of them towards him but he doesn’t really spare a proper enough look. “I’ve just been noticing she’s progressively worsening a bit faster than her neurologist had projected.”

“Okay,” he says, sounding curt, and that nervousness comes back. But goddammit, you’re a nurse, you know how to deal with stubborn doctors. And it’s for your mother. There was no one else left to advocate for her except you.

“I was just wondering if we could also order a brain MRI for her?” you ask, “just to rule out anything…her brain fog has been bad, worse than usual, and I’m just really worried about metastasis, especially if it’s a glioma, I’d just want to catch it as soon as possible.”

You have sympathy for oncologists, really, you do. They must deal with paranoid family members all the time, but how could someone blame another for wanting what’s best for their loved one? You don’t think that’s an empathy that anyone should ever lose, regardless of how long you’ve been practicing medicine. 

He sighs. “There’s no indication for that right now, not with her response to treatment as well as her lab work. I’d suggest we just wait on her next PET/CT results, and we can go from there. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, okay?”

“I know,” you say, “but her next scan isn’t for another couple weeks, plus the week it’ll take to have it read, it’ll be far out, so…if we could just order it now?”

He interlocks his fingers and places his hands in front of him on the desk, looking at you with a stern face, but he glances down at the paperwork you’ve sprawled in front of him with scribblings of all the detailed notes you’ve been taking of your mom’s responses to her Alzheimer’s treatments, with time stamps and descriptions of her mental state, and his furrowed brow relaxes slightly. He breathes in deep. “Alright. Fine, I’ll order one. I highly doubt we’ll find anything, though. But since there’s no clear clinical impression warranting a brain MRI right now,” he mentions as he directs his attention back to his computer, “I don’t think insurance will cover it for you with the diagnoses I put in.”

“That’s okay,” you quickly respond, “I’ll pay for it.” 

You collect your imaging orders from the medical assistants at the center of the oncology floor. The chemo nurse, Mai, informs you that your mother still has about two hours left before her treatment is done, and she gently suggests you go eat something while you wait. You tell her it’s okay, that you want to wait with her, but she tells you the hospital cafeteria is serving tater tots today for tater tot tuesday, and those tater tots are to die for. But before you go downstairs to the cafeteria, you find a few minutes to cry in a one stall bathroom.

—

“God damn,” you hear your coworker, Hana, dreamily sigh as she leans on the handle on your standing mobile nursing work desk, and you trail her line of sight to the tight asses of the EMT men that walk by while rolling a stretcher. “It’s like being hot is a part of their job requirement.”

“Uh-huh,” you agree mindlessly as you try to catch up on charting for the rounds you just ran on your patients around the emergency department beds.

4/20/2024 0200: patient notified of the importance of taking ibuprofen. Attempted to give pt the medication. Pt responded “suck on this, bitch”, gestured to his general groin area, then threw ibuprofen tablets at RN. pt upset and requests narcotics instead. Informed MD of pt’s behavior and request. MD will not order narcotic pain medication at this time. Will continue to monitor

“How’s your mom doing?” Hana says, interrupting your typing as she turns to face you now.

“She’s okay,” you say, continuing to punch keys as you stare at your monitor, “she has a PET/CT soon. It’s always nerve wracking when the next scan is coming up.”

“Have you given hospice any more thought?” she asks.

You stop typing and stare blankly ahead at your screen as your heart sinks a little. You have given hospice more thought, and you came to the decision about a week ago that you would go through with it. It’s becoming so increasingly difficult taking care of your mom at home, more than you can manage with all of her doctor’s appointments, radiation appointments, chemotherapy appointments, all of which happen during the late mornings or early afternoons so you can’t even properly rest on most days that you come home from night shifts. Even though you only work three shifts a week, you can’t remember the last time you got a full, uninterrupted eight hours of sleep because of how messed up your circardian rhythm has become. You were practically a walking zombie, and you hardly felt like a person anymore. You’re not going to switch to the day shift, because that would make it difficult to take your mom to her appointments, and also because you get paid extra with the night shift differential, and above all other necessities, what you really needed right now the most was money. Forget the fact you’re still in debt from nursing school, but you co-signed on the medical loans your mother had taken out for treatments, and five years of high acuity medical bills was a living nightmare. And you were living that nightmare. 

“I did,” you say, “I’ve been looking into hospices, but a lot of them are further away than I’d like.” You glance down at your keyboard. “I…I’m going to miss having my mom home. Even though it’s hard to deal with her mood swings and stuff sometimes, I just think the house would feel really empty without her.”

“Aw, my dear,” Hana sighs and rubs her hand up and down your arm soothingly, “I’m sure you’d love to have her home, but I think it’s becoming too much for you. I say this with love and care, but I can’t remember the last time I saw you genuinely smile.”

Your eyes widen slightly from her words, and you release some of the tension in your shoulders, tension you didn’t even realize you were holding onto during this conversation.

“It’s too much for just one person,” she continues, “while I understand you want to spend more time with your mom, the quality of time you’re spending with her could be so much better if you had some weight lifted off your shoulders, where you’re not worrying about her medication schedule or doctor’s appointments or blood draws and all that.”

You nod slowly and manage to give her a small smile, then place your hand over hers that was still soothing over your arm. “Thanks, Hana. I know, I appreciate you looking out for me. I…I think I’ll look more seriously into hospices. It’s just they’re really expensive, too, so I have that to consider as well.”

“Hmm,” she withdraws her hand from you and juts her bottom lip out as she looks up at fluorescent emergency department lighting. You hear a patient cough in the distance as your senses take in the ambient environment once again. “Y’know, there’s this really great new hospice in town that functions as a general facility and also helps manage a lot of chronic diseases too. They have nurses there that do blood draws and everything, and they also transport patients to their affiliated hospital for treatments, like dialysis and chemo and stuff. My friend’s mom has breast cancer and was recently accepted into that hospice,” she tells you, pulling her phone out and looking through some of her messages, “I think it’s only a fifteen minute drive from your house.”

You tilt your head at her with interest, wondering why it didn’t come up on your provider search through insurance, but regardless, it sounded too good to be true. “It’s probably really expensive. My mom’s under the state insurance right now, but I’ve explored government insurance plans too and they’re still really pricey. I just can’t afford it, not with all of her cancer treatments, and adding her under my insurance isn’t really going to be any better either.”

She groans. “I know. What’s with our healthcare plan? You’d think as a hospital, they’d choose better plans for their employees,” she sighs, and then stops to read some of the messages on her phone, “but my friend said that her husband was able to add her mom as a dependant, and his insurance covers 90% of it. I’m sure it depends on the illness, but they only pay a few thousand per month out of pocket.”

You blink at her. “Really? T-That’s insane…do you know what insurance her husband has?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a Kaiser facility.”

“Oh,” you sigh, “well, they wouldn’t accept state insurance. That’s a private HMO.”

“Shoot,” Hana looks at you apologetically, “I’m so sorry, love, I forgot about that. Sorry to get your hopes up.”

“That’s okay,” you smile at her, “thanks for trying. I’m glad it worked out for your friend, at least.”

Hana glances at her watch and realizes her break is over, so she heads back to her side of the emergency department, and you’re left standing at the nursing station with thoughts running through your head now, and still catastrophically behind on charting.

Hmm.

Kaiser.

You swear someone mentioned that to you recently.

Or maybe you were just remembering another one of those ads you see on television at night. No, no, you’re pretty sure it came up in conversation with someone, but you can’t remember when or why or what or where or who. Hmmmmm. Kaiser, Kaiser, Kaiser. 

Nope. Nothing.

Oh well, maybe it’ll hit you later.

—

It hits you in the form of an intrusive memory when you wake up on a Thursday afternoon in a cold sweat after having a hallucinogenic melatonin dream where you were getting chased by a giant rabbit (don’t ask). 

Kaiser.

Gojo said he has Kaiser insurance. 

And the idea that comes into your head after that is so ridiculous, so absurd, so positively bonkers that you have to slap the sleepiness off your face for a second to make sure you’re still not in some dream state of living, and the harsh sting on your cheek proves that you’re not. And the idea still persists. And now you’re swinging your legs over the edge of your bed, and grabbing your laptop, and opening it, and inputting your pin, and then spending a good three hours researching if this little idea of yours actually has any good level of merit to it, if it could even succeed, if it was even legal? You even find yourself on the phone with insurance representatives, and you stare at the tens of thousands of dollars of debt on your Excel spreadsheet where you keep track of your finances, and you feel the exhaustion in your bones, and you also remember how fucking annoying Gojo is. And yet still, the idea persists. 

And when the pieces of the plan start to unfortunately fall into place, you say, fuck it. What was worse than potentially getting into six figures of debt? It’ll be fine.

But you can only hope he says yes.

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[reading commercial break]

hello!! this is ellie, the author. so sorry to interrupt, there is still a bit left for this chapter, but i just wanted to jump in here real quick to explain for some of my readers that may not be american so they may understand reader’s desperation to financially cover the costs of her mother’s healthcare bills. this story is set in suburban america lol, where the healthcare system is so messed up honestly, and this excerpt from the book the body by bill bryson kinda explains:

“Where America really differs from other countries is in the colossal costs of its health care. An angiogram, a survey by The New York Times found, costs an average of $914 in the United States, but only $35 in Canada. Insulin costs about six times as much in America as it does in Europe. The average hip replacement costs $40,364 in America, almost six times the cost in Spain, while an MRI scan in the United States is, at $1,121, four times more than in the Netherlands. The entire system is notoriously unwieldy and cost-heavy.” p360; “...America spends more on health care than any other nation–two and a half times more per person than the average for all other developed nations of the world. One-fifth of all the money Americans earn–$10,209 a year for every citizen, $3.2 trillion altogether–is spent on health care.” p359

unfortunately, a lot of how much you end up spending at the end of the day, depends significantly on the health insurance that you have. it could make the difference of spending a few hundreds to a few thousands to a few tens of thousands and beyond, just based on the insurance plan, even if the illnesses/treatments are exactly the same.

but yeah, just wanted to provide that context lol!! so you must understand reader’s desperation to save a buck!!! 

ok back to regularly scheduled broadcasting!! 🧚‍♀️💕✨

[end of reading commercial break]

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—

You’re sitting at a table outside your favorite cafe in town, leg bouncing up and down underneath the surface impatiently and nervously, and you glance at the time on your phone for the fifth time within the past five minutes because you’re unable to alleviate any of the anxiety you’re experiencing right now. You hear the jingling of the cafe door behind you and then you’re a little startled when someone emerges in your periphery by your side.

You look up and see Gojo standing next to you, and you see he already went inside and grabbed a coffee to-go for himself.

“Hey,” he greets you.

“Hi,” you say with a small wave.

He takes a seat across from you. “What did you want to talk about?” he asks while he settles in and smooths down the fabric of his suit jacket. He’s not wearing a tie, and has a couple of the top buttons of his shirt undone to reveal some of the skin at his collarbone. Probably to seduce the divorced single moms, you think. “And if you called me here to try and convince me for the millionth time to pitch in for that fence you built six months ago, I’m just gonna say no again. I didn’t even want that fence built in the first place. It fucked up the roots on my avocado tree.”

“It’s a joint fence. Neighbors usually pitch in for that kind of stuff, asshole. At least normal neighbors do. You know I talked shit about you to everyone in the neighborhood when you refused to pay and all of them agree that you’re being a stuck-up prick about it?”

“You know that I also talked shit about you to everyone in the neighborhood and they said the same exact thing about you?”

“Wha–” you gasp, blinking a few times from the betrayal, then mutter “...those two-faced bitches” under your breath.

“So,” he pulls his sleeve back to glance at his watch, “what did you want? I’ve only got thirty minutes to talk before I need to head to an open house.” He brings his cup of coffee to his lips.

“Oh. Right. Just a favor,” you say, “I was wondering if you could marry me.”

He almost spits out his coffee.

“E-Excuse me?” he croaks out, exasperated, and he’s coughing a little bit as he hits his chest with a fist to alleviate the irritation in his throat from some hot coffee that went down the wrong pipe.

“I mean, if it’s not an issue, I’d really appreciate it if you could marry me,” you attempt to clarify, but you realize you probably should’ve thought a little more about how you were going to ask him this, and now you’re too deep to backtrack, so you just hope you’ll find the conversation along the way.

He’s looking at you like you’ve got six heads, brow furrowed and mouth hanging open slightly with that what the fuck? face you see him wear sometimes. But then he sits up a bit straighter, expression morphing into a curious one as he studies your face, head tilting a little in his scrutinization. Then, his face relaxes entirely. He has this knowing look as he nods up and down slowly, like he just figured something out, and then he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose in some type of faux frustration. And you don’t understand why you’re already seethingly angry about what he’s going to say next.

“Oh god,” he sighs, “I knew this day would come.”

“Huh?” you squeak out.

“Listen,” he says as he crosses his arms, but one of his hands comes out from where it was tucked in his elbow to waive around in the air as he articulates his words, “I know that I’m very charming, and handsome, and chivalrous, one might say the modern knight in shining armor–”

“Satoru.”

“–and yes, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” he dramatically sighs, “when I’m taking the groceries up the driveway…when I’m out mowing the lawn…when I stretch on the sidewalk before I go for a run. I feel your eyes on me like a hawk. Quite frankly, you look at me like I’m a piece of meat, and I feel very violated by it sometimes–”

“What the fuck are you talking about???”

“But I get it. Really, I do. There’s no need to be embarrassed about it–”

“I’m not embar–”

“It was really only a matter of time before you would do this. So overcome by your feelings for me that you just had to go against the grain of centuries of matrimonial standards and swallow your gigantic pride to propose to me.” 

“Oh my god, what the fuck are you saying–”

“But,” he says, collecting himself now, and taking in a deep breath, “my answer is no. I mean, I shouldn’t have to explain why. But I will. First of all, where the hell is my ring? Secondly, why aren’t you on one knee in front of me right now? Also, in a cafe? Really? I thought you would’ve known I’d have liked something a little bit more romantic than this. Y’know, private, but also where my family’s somewhere around the corner. Maybe by the beach–”

“Can you stop talkin–”

“–while the sun is setting, and I’m wearing a nice dress, and there’s bubbles in the air and rose petals on the sand, and you tell me how enamored you’ve always been of me, and how you can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with me,” he indulgently sighs, “I mean, it’s every guy’s dream. But nooooo, of course you’ve got no taste or sense for romance in any capac–”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD, FORGET THIS,” you stand up out of your chair, fast enough to where it almost falls backwards, and you grab your purse to sling over your shoulder, “I cannot believe I actually thought this plan would ever fucking work.” You’re about to walk away from the table, because you’re realigned with the wisdom of exactly why you can’t stand this man, when his hand reaches out quickly to grasp onto your wrist, to keep you still, and you jump a little from the contact. You look down, his hand unrelenting in its grip as his knuckles flex slightly, and you’re not sure if he’s ever touched you from how foreign the sensation feels.

“Wait,” he says, and when you look at him, his eyes are a little wide like a puppy, “you’re being serious?”

You yank your wrist out of his grip, but the warmth of his touch still lingers, and you wrap your own hand around it to distract yourself from it. “Why would I just ask you to marry me out of nowhere if I wasn’t being serious?”

He gives you a look like the answer to your question is obvious. “Uh, to fuck with me?”

You’re still holding onto your wrist, protectively pressing it against your chest with your back turned away from him slightly, and you look up at the sky for a brief second. Hm, perhaps you could have brought the favor up a bit better, and you realize it might’ve sounded insane on his end, and you’re also still thinking about the tens of thousands of dollars you could save if he said yes, and so you hesitantly open your body language up to him again.

“Just sit,” he sighs.

You take a seat across from him again, hands finding the warm coffee cup in front of you and you purse your lips together before tucking your bottom lip under your front teeth. You take a deep breath before speaking again. “I…I’m being serious. I was wondering if you could marry me as a favor, and not because I think you’re some type of irresistible man candy, god, where do you get your gigantic ego from?”

“I–”

“Rhetorical question, shut it.”

He blinks at you. “What favor are you asking for that’ll be satisfied by me marrying you?”

You twiddle with your thumbs. “I want to put my mom in hospice,” you say, eyes flickering down slightly because you’re worried you’re about to tear up from the words, but when you realize you’ve got enough conviction not to, you look back up at him, and his eyes on you are a little too observant, “most of the hospices in town are further away than I’d like, and really expensive, but I heard there was a Kaiser one nearby…and that a lot of the costs are covered by insurance. So, if you married me, I could send my mom there. And also, under your insurance, the care network would be better, so I could get her a new oncologist and neurologist, and I’d know she’s being taken care of. And…” you clear your throat, “well, it’ll be a lot less expensive, so I can start to catch up on…well, whatever, you get the picture.”

His eyes narrow at you in thought, and he glances at your hands on the table that are nervously fidgeting, and then his eyes meet yours again. “I’m not sure if you can add a…spouse’s parent to a healthcare plan?”

“You can,” you say, “I already called to ask.”

“Oh.”

“Mhm.”

Gojo hums to himself, laying his palms flat on his thighs and rubbing them back and forth on the taut fabric a few times as he thinks with his gaze set off somewhere in the distance. It seems like he’s running through some algorithm of thoughts in his head, and then he slowly nods to himself when he’s made a decision.

“Sure, I’ll do it,” he says.

“Y-You will?” you ask him. You’re uneasy at how easy it was to convince.

“Yeah. I like your mom. She’s a sweet lady, and I want to see her get better.”

His words touch you. And not from the distance of a ten foot pole like you’d usually allow, but more intimate somehow. And you get the feeling you should thank him, but you’re still pissed off from when he almost ran you over on your own driveway earlier this week. 

“Really?” you make sure, almost like you’re hoping he’ll change his mind because now you’re suspicious as to why he agreed so quickly. And you realize he’s already making you paranoid.

“Yeah. I’m saying yes to your proposal, y/n,” he says, “I mean, a marriage is just a legal agreement. Not a big deal. I’d want a prenup though, for obvious reasons. In case you’re a gold digger.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re too cheap to even pitch in for a fucking fence. You think I’d believe you’ve got any gold to dig?”

He sighs. “I said in case.”

“Well, anyways, we can work out logistics and paperwork or whatever later,” you say, and you extend your hand out for him to shake it.

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Um. You’re going to make me shake your hand over this?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, “it’s the diplomatic thing to do.”

“Yes,” he says, “for a diplomatic agreement.”

“Precisely,” you say. “That’s exactly what this is.”

He hesitantly brings his hand up to shake yours, but you quickly withdraw yours at the last second. “Nevermind. I don’t want to touch you.”

“Okay,” he easily accepts, “not how I expected to celebrate getting engaged, but whatever. By the way, when’s the wedding? Are we doing, like, a shotgun destination type vibe? Or something a bit more grand?”

“Just be at the courthouse at noon on Sunday.”

“What?! This weekend? That’s too soon,” he panics, “I need time to pick out a dress, and I need to figure out who my bridesmaids are going to be, and–”

“Satoru. Seriously. Just–...just shut the fuck up. Before the headache that you’ve already given me gets worse.”

You two sit in silence for a moment, him just mindlessly staring at a butterfly that landed on the plant at the center of the table, and you just stare off into the void past him while contemplating every life decision you’ve ever made. But that’s how it always was between you two. As much as you hated to admit it, you were jealous of him in a lot of ways. In every way that you were fucked up, he was nonchalant without a care in the world. You wish you knew what that sort of peace felt like, and you wondered if he could show you. Maybe someday when he doesn’t piss you off.

“So,” he interrupts your thoughts, “are you gonna take my last name?”

“Fuck no, I’d rather die.”

“Alright, jeez, I was just asking.”

.

.

.

[end of chapter 1]

a/n. yayy!!! he said yes!! omg congrats on ur engagement!! haha this was a lot of fun to writeee :'') i've got sm fun ideas for this fic. yea this chap was supposed to be longer lol there's still some groundwork to lay w the side quests, but will def cover more of that in the next chapter!!! tysm to everyone that wanted to be on taglist omg i hope that you enjoyed <33 love uuu guysss smmmm also my bad if some stuff doesnt make sense i'm tryna be less perfectionist when i'm editing so that i don't go insane 😍

➸ take me to chapter two!

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hope yalls fries never get soggy ever 💕

[thiccpersonality]

The Realization

It's hard being the only human in a team full of meta-humans, aliens or straight up gods, but Bruce manages to get by...even if internally he's overly critical of the work he does, always comparing himself to others and telling himself to do better. But, he secretly counts his blessings one-by-one at how he has friends colleagues that reassure him everyday that he does so much-yes, even when he doesn't ask for it...Clark always tells him it's in his eyes, that's how he knows Bruce wants it.

Bruce finds that stupid though, the only thing in his eyes is exhaustion, and if not exhaustion, then anger; and if not anger, then it's probably a cocktail of self-loathing, self-hate and self-deprecation sprinkled with a healthy dose of "I wish I was dead."

Anyhow, Bruce counts his blessings secretly, even if it doesn't seem like he's doing so. And while it's hard being one of the only humans without a power in a group full of meta-humans or fully fledged super powered beings, he is grateful for the other aspects of power he has: his name, his face, his money, influence-and one of his actual favorites...when he's in a good mood-his body. Bruce isn't an idiot (Jason: "Not all the time anyway!"), he sees the way people eye him up and down, both men and women alike, he knows their thoughts towards him...or well, his body at least.

He has seen the way women eye his arms and pecs (Wally: "You mean, Batboobs®!? And doesn't everyone eye those?"), watches the way mens eyes glaze over when staring at his mile long legs.

Which brings us to how Bruce never truly feels small, not anymore at least. Even if he was of smaller height for a man (or in general) his position in life and as a hero/vigilante would make him feel and appear big to people. So, Bruce hasn't felt small in a very long time, he tends to not pay attention to things like height much-to reiterate: he never feels small because 1. He isn't and 2. Even if he was, who would be brave enough to tell one of the richest men on earth-let alone THE Batman that he's short?

The answer: no one.

So while Bruce has never had anyone say to his face that he's short, he's the World's Greatest Detective™ (Jason and Stephanie: "Ehhhh...occasionally.) and can see for himself the difference of him compared to everyone else.

Who is everyone else you ask? Well, it's the people he works with and-and Jason. It's kind of hard for Bruce to truly pay attention to height when he never pays attention to it in the first place or when he's usually in life-threatening situations to really care, in fact, he doesn't know why he is even obsessing over such a thing-'but you do know'-his mind replies. The thing Bruce hates most is that he does-he does know what kick-started this whole height thing, and it was his son; Jason.

XXX

It was any other normal day at Wayne Manor...if you count your son entering your top-secret cave injured as normal. Bruce had his mask off, his icy blue eyes analyzing the information on his computer unblinkingly, there's been an issue with abductions recently and he doesn't want to waste any time on finding out who is up to it, so Bruce has been working overtime (Alfred in a tired tone: "As usual...") trying to find out who it is.

Just as his brain is stringing something together, he hears the sound of a motorcycle outside the Cave, Bruce's brain immediately switches to finding out who it could be. He takes into account every person already inside the house, outside of it, what said people outside said they were doing until his brain very obviously deduces that it must be Jason. Hm? Should he heat some leftovers up for Jason? What is the other here for? Why is he even overthinking it? Jason is free to come over anytime he wants...

....

.....

......

But what if the reason is bad? Is Jason mad at him again? Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose from the sudden headache he gets from his mind panicking, the man just groans softly and turns around just in time to see Jason riding into the Cave, his eyebrow raising suspiciously at the lack of fancy tricks his son bothered not doing.

Bruce silently analyzes his son's body for any signs of distress, starting from his head, he immediately noticed the crack in the helmet and can feel his muscles tighten in worry before remembering he's trained his kids to fight and be able to receive hits as well. The thing that causes him to stand up though is the fact that Jason hasn't noticed him yet, and the way the young man is holding his side isn't helping to ease Bruce's racing mind.

"Jason, is everything alright?"

Hm? Was that too forward of him? Bruce knows his children, but he especially knows Jason and Damian hate being asked for signs of-what they deem as-weakness and injury (Damian sipping his tea: "Wonder where we learned that from, father?)

Jason finally looks up at Bruce, his tone sounding a bit slurred as he speaks, "Jus' fine, B. A little-" he grunts as he stumbles off his bike-"scratch never...hurt me." Okay, so it's more than a little scratch, Bruce catches Jason and can't control the immediate frown he makes when the boy doesn't bother fighting his hold. "What actually happened? It's not just a little scratch...you are clutching your side like you've been sh-" his breathing hitches at the words he almost uttered, w-was Jason actually-

"What? S-Shot? Why's it matter if-" Jason quiets down when Bruce's words finally process, his baby blue's widening under his mask at the small ways his dad is starting to panic from the thought-"No! I was jus' stabbed is all...no shots."

Bruce will get on himself later about how his body relaxed a bit more when finding out his child wasn't shot, I mean, what kind of father feels relieved that their kid was just stabbed? He knows-deep down-that it's his...ahem..."trauma response" to guns, but it sucks for him to realize he finds himself more at ease when people he knows are hurt in different ways that aren't a gun...he feels like a horrible person when it happens.

For now though, his main priority is his son who is losing blood, blood that Bruce is finally noticing on Jason's hand.

Bruce grunts as he brings his son closer to his body, feeling momentarily surprised when he lets out the sound from moving the younger. Since when did he ever grunt when moving his children? Another thing is, when did Jason get so heavy in the first place? When did his once small boy pack on so much muscle and-oh, God...please...when did Jason ever have to bend his knees when Bruce held him?

His body is on autopilot and he can feel himself moving to the medical table, but his eyes are busy staring at Jason's bent knees, his mind screaming at him that this must be a prank his son is pulling-oh! Or maybe Bruce is actually in an alternate universe where his child is bigger than him.

Bruce sucks in a deep breath when arriving at the table, gently lying his son down so he can get to work on stitching his boy up while also giving a (most likely) hypocritical lecture on how Jason should stay safe.

XXX

It was ever since that day that Bruce has been hyper fixated on his own height, along with the height of others. He hates how he's been sneaking in tests and making things awkward with his family because he chooses not to answer and instead rushes off to panic when realizing Jason is bigger than him.

It all happened as soon as Jason was patched up too, his mind recalls every stupid miniscule little detail, from Jason's clothes to the way his hair was messy from sleep and-the worst part-how he had to look up at the nineteen-year-old when the young man got close enough to him. Barefoot and all. The worst part is how Jason didn't even seem to notice it, and Bruce is NOT risking letting his son know, because then he will be picked on for being smaller than him and then his Bluejay will no doubt drag his siblings into this.

Not to mention how Bruce doesn't want to deal with a furious Damian who will demand that they, in his words, "stop disrespecting father before he slits their throats."

It has been a miserable couple months for him-and don't you judge him for keeping this obsession up for months! How is anyone-let alone a parent-supposed to process that they are shorter than their kid? Bruce holds back his frustrated tears at realizing his children are grown and growing, for goodness sakes, he had a meltdown just yesterday when it caught up to him that Richard is a fully grown man...he will never let anyone know about how he clutched onto old pictures of his eldest while crying.

And everyday Bruce is hoping and praying against Damian's growth...of course he doesn't want his son to be stunted in his puberty process...but if he decides to stay little forever then that is perfectly okay with him.

Besides panicking over his family's growth, which, yay for them...really, Bruce has been noticing-and I mean, TRULY noticing, his friends colleagues heights. There are certain people where it's just so noticeable, like J'onn for example, that guy is so huge that you are stupid if you don't notice it. Another hero is Big Barda, I mean, she's a seven foot tall woman...you would obviously notice that.

But there are just some people he noticed it with but it didn't bother him before (thank you Jason for kick-starting this!) And now Bruce is constantly comparing himself to the most closest of colleagues to one's he barely speaks to, it's insane how many files he's gone through just to look at heights. His two closest friends colleagues Diana and Clark are two people he didn't bother with height wise. It didn't matter since they made him feel small in different ways...I mean, you have the Amazonian princess with strength and skills that would put any living creature to shame and a Kryptonian that is more human than most humans, who truly has a heart of gold despite any negative views towards him.

And then there is Bruce: cold, stoic, a touch too sarcastic, jaded, cynical, a negative Nancy, a party pooper (Jason says that), no fun, emotionally stunted, anxious, depressed, stressed, old, washed up, unfunny-and the worst of all; short.

Bruce holds back his distressed noise as Wally West, AKA: Richard's best friend who has been over a million times, stands next to him with that ever bright smile of his and is animatedly talking, effectively ruining his depressing train of thought. When did he get so big? So...grown? He takes in the maturity of his once soft face, the man is still cute no doubt, but he isn't that same round faced boy who bothered him about Alfred's cookies. Okay, okay, maybe he still is that same kid...just older looking and taller now.

"-and that's why I'll need that penthouse full of Agent A's cookies."

Bruce blinks away the sudden wetness in his eyes and looks down (ha!) at The Flash confused, though to the normal eye he looks the same old disinterested as usual. "You need a penthouse? What happened to that modest apartment you got?" Wally blinks in shock behind his mask before giving a toothy smile, "Is that what your mind got from that? I was joking about the penthouse...though Agent A's cookies would still be much appreciated."

The ginger shifts in place nervously at the way Batman is staring at him, did he do something wrong? The only thing that somewhat assures Wally that things are okay is the fact that Bruce gives a grunt of agreement before walking off.

He can't take this anymore! If Bruce stays around Wally any longer he's afraid he'll start crying in front of the kid. Instead, he'll just head to the cafeteria and drown his sorrows in today's dessert. Bruce walks in and sees that Diana is already in line, holding back his grumble as he stands next to the woman and internally mourns the fact his head only reaches her shoulder. "Good morning, my friend! It's a lovely day in space is it not?"

Bruce grunts and doesn't bother looking up at Diana, "It's the same view we see everyday we come up to the Watchtower."

The Amazonian just smiles brighter, warmth radiating from her mood. "Though we see it everyday it doesn't make it any less gorgeous up here." Bitterness. Bruce's heart is filled with bitterness at the words "up" and "here" , is-is Diana teasing him? Did she somehow find out about his fixation and is now subtly letting him know that she knows?

The feeling of warmth, like that from the sun, at his right side causes Bruce to automatically look up at the person standing so close to him. His icy blue eyes only widen under his mask at fully tilting his head back to look up at Clark, he feels like sobbing when realizing his head only comes to Clark's chest, why is the man even taller than Diana!?

"Good morning Bruce, Diana. Lovely morning up here, is it not?"

There's that stupid word again! And is it really a good morning when he's been suffering for so long? Bruce frowns at the gentle nudge at his side and Diana's jovial tone, "Told you the view is still beautiful." At Clark's questioning look Diana just smiles more, "Our friend here just is being a sourpuss today. He's grumpy about how I said the view is nice, he just replied about how we see it everyday."

Clark just smiles and looks down at Bruce, his smile turning amused when his friend doesn't move up the line. "Are you just going to stare at me all morning or will you move down the line?"

A scoff is all Bruce can give, not noticing the concerned looks shared over his head as he focuses on piling his food tray with dessert. The concern isn't necessarily from Bruce eating sweets, Diana and Clark both know how much their friend actually has a sweet tooth, the issue is coming from the fact he is willingly eating sweets in front of others on top of the amount it is. Clark just frowns worriedly and sits actual food on his plate while mouthing to Diana about what's wrong with Bruce.

In return, the princess just shakes her head and looks back down at Bruce, choosing to speak up. "You know, it's been awhile since we've eaten alone, just the three of us. Why don't we head to one of our rooms or something?" What she actually means by that is: "let's get Bruce alone so we can figure out what's wrong with him."

The two super powered heroes find themselves even more putoff at Bruce's distracted grunt...it is rare he pulls that one out, usually his grunts have some level of awareness to them, but this one is telling them that he's not actually paying attention. Which is cause for alarm in and of itself. Plus, Clark and Diana have been getting calls from Bruce's family, they are worried about how he's been acting as of late. They report Bruce is running off on them whenever they ask him what's wrong...which actually isn't out of character for Bruce, but if the Batfamily are saying it's different than usual, then it's different than usual.

The two taller heroes lead the shorter to his room, punching his code in before the door opens and they watch as Bruce automatically walks over to his bed and sits on it, shoving a cookie in his mouth and causing Clark to signal to Diana in confirmation that something is wrong.

They use their friend's distracted state to quietly talk about it while joining him in the room, "What's going on with him?" Diana raises her brow as she asks, tilting her head up and to the side so Clark can whisper in her ear. "I don't know for sure...but his lip is jutting out into a micro-pout. I quickly scanned him to see if he was hiding injuries, and while he's not, his muscles are tense as if he's holding back something."

Diana softly ah's and sets her tray down on Bruce's desk, the noise causing the man to look up at them finally. His eyebrows raising when noticing he's in his room, "Why didn't we just eat in the cafeteria?" Bruce holds back his fidgeting at the look the taller two heroes share.

Clark clears his throat, "We were going to originally...but we noticed you were acting off and suggested eating in one of our rooms as a test-"

Diana, being one to never hold back, gets to the point. "A test you failed, Bruce. To be honest, you've been acting off enough to worry your family into calling us to step in. So, can you please tell us what's going on?" Bruce feels genuine embarrassment that this is where his fixation has gotten him, he's too flustered to admit that his issue is the fact he's begun to notice people are bigger than him, I mean, what kind of issue is that?

At Bruce's silence Clark steps forward slightly, his voice patient and gentle when he speaks.

"We are your friends, B. Heck, you even feel like family. And family is there for each other just like me and Di are here for you. Jason has been feeling particularly bad lately...he says he didn't know what he did this time to make you so upset with him, you keep staring him down angrily only to storm off when he looks back at you."

Bruce feels angry with himself for letting such a stupid non-issue get this far. His looks of "anger" weren't anger towards Jason at all, he knows when he thinks hard about stuff he can sometimes look mean apparently, but he was never upset with his Jaylad...the distress was just showing on his face and Bruce most likely masked it with the first emotion that came to mind, one that's easiest for him to express or replicate; anger or irritation.

Bruce hates the involuntary distressed sound that escapes his crumb covered lips, however, for the sake of his family and ending this stupid misunderstanding, he chooses to be...honest (Batfamily: *collectively gasping*)

"Jason...he's bigger than me-" Bruce keeps the Batman mask on so he won't be too vulnerable, his hands tightening on the metal tray from the thought-"For months I have been noticing the sudden growth of my children and I...I didn't know what to do with that information. Did you know that Jason has to crouch when I hold him now? Since when did he need to do that?" At this point of his ranting, Bruce is out of bed and pacing across the room while his friends patiently listen.

"And then it hit me one day that Richard is truly a man now. Maybe that's why we got into so many fights before? I never truly realized that he didn't need my help like before-" Bruce pauses in the middle of the room and clenches his cape in his fists-"He is so much taller now and shining brighter than the little boy I picked up. Timmy is even starting to grow a bit more...which, I don't know if I should be upset or pleased that he's finally growing, that boy scares me sometimes with how small he was."

Bruce's hands instinctively reach up to run his fingers through his hair and he huffs at the mask being in the way, choosing to hide his hands underneath his cape instead.

"Wally is even so big now, did you know that? I remember the young boy with that fat freckled face pestering me about Alfred's cookies...and now that boy has the audacity to get big on me, I think I hate realizing that Dickie-bird is actually taller than his friend now, it's only by one or two inches-but still!" Bruce starts pacing again, his nerves building up once more and telling him to move.

"And don't get me started on Damian. I feel I constantly am trying to sabotage his growth...I never got to see him as a baby and so I hope he stays that small, chubby faced little boy I've come to know. I feel horrible for wishing against his growth, but I want to make his childhood as enjoyable as possible, did you know he didn't even know what movies were when he came here? He was deprived of fun and he can't grow too quickly now or fun childhood memories can't be made."

Bruce stops to finally stare at Diana and Clark, pointing accusingly at them.

"And then you two! I noticed it before, but it was never something of interest to me. I didn't need to pay attention to your heights when I feel small in other ways with you two...you-" Bruce grunts at Clark gently slamming into him and hugging him, the man sounding a mix of fond, touched, baffled and sad. "You don't need to feel small with us. I for one think you are bigger than any of us in many different ways...I mean, you just admitted to having a crisis at realizing your family grew."

Diana joins in on the hug with a soft chuckle, "I'm just surprised you didn't notice our height difference sooner. Clark and I always talked about how cute it is to pick you up, your our tiny human."

The woman just smiles more when Clark nudges her side in warning for her playful words, "But in all seriousness. This has to be the cutest moment we've seen from you ever, instead of a midlife crisis you are having a parental crisis-" Diana cackles again when Clark pokes her side again-"What? I am being serious. But also, this just shows how much you care...and I think it's only normal to feel this way when you never expected to have a family of your own in the first place."

Bruce's breath hitches at the gentleness in which Diana speaks the last part, his eyes prickling with tears at realizing deep down she's right. Ever since he took in Richard he was always amazed and scared at having a family, and no matter how much he's tried to deny it in his worst moments, that's what Richard became ever since he thought of taking him in. Bruce never expected a family, which is why he tries so hard to deny it...and I guess after years of taking care of children it's finally caught up to him that his family-more specifically, his children (because that's who they are) have grown into functioning adults.

He never thought he would want a family after losing his in that alleyway, but if anyone were to take down his defenses...of course it'd be a child.

Clark gently reaches up to tug Bruce's mask off and finds himself wanting to cry at seeing the fat droplets-hanging on for dear life-onto Bruce's eyes, even now his friend doesn't want to seem weak. He can't help but chuckle at the incredulous look Bruce gives him for wanting to cry as well.

"You can cry, Bruce. What are friends for?"

Bruce feels his face grow red, his body loosening in Clark and Diana's hold as months of tension leaves his being through his tears, choosing to hide his face in his friends strong bodies. He hates crying and how good it makes him feel afterwards, he doesn't think he deserves that feeling most days, but for now, it's okay. Bruce also can't help the eye roll at hearing Clark sniffle as well, he's such a crybaby. Diana just smirks at her two boys, carding her long, elegant fingers through Bruce's hair, the two taller heroes paying close attention to Bruce as he shifts in their hold and speaks up. Voice slightly muffled.

"Never speak about this to anyone."

Diana and Clark share a look before silently coming into agreement and lifting Bruce off his feet, reveling in his annoyed protests with laughter.

"We wouldn't dare."

("1. He isn't and 2. Even if he was, who would be brave enough to tell one of the richest men on earth-let alone THE Batman that he's short?" Does the second option imply or mean Bruce is short or is it just a scenario? You decide! I constantly switch between Bruce being a genuine short king and him just being around people that make him feel freaking short 😂.

"Clark gently reaches up to tug Bruce's mask off and finds himself wanting to cry at seeing the fat droplets-hanging on for dear life-onto Bruce's eyes, even now his friend doesn't want to seem weak." <-(Damian and Jason sipping on their tea: "Seems we found that answer to who we learned that from. 😌")

Also, I am so sorry this story got so long! I didn't mean to 😭. This idea has been in my head, and I usually forget my ideas...but this time I actually wanted to remember lol. This is also kind of based off of the one day I was hugging my baby brother and realized I actually had to look up at him...he's only 14 (while writing this I also just remembered he's 14 😭😭😭), I went back into my room and literally just sat there reminiscing on my bed about when he was brought home from the hospital to all the good times we had together and even things I wish I did different with him growing up 😂.

Also, also, I apologize for the constant whiplash from some semblance of humor (or something), to slightly crack-ish (I think so at least) writing to things getting deep and emotional. I was feeling fickle with the vibe of this story I guess, so I said: "why not everything?" 😂😂😂

This is getting even longer cause I like talking too much in notes lol, so I'm going to leave with a thank you! Anyone and everyone who bothers to read this long mess is very much appreciated!

Please remember to stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛)

[patrophthia]

theodore nott headcanons

these are just my personal characterisations of theodore nott and just me rambling about him bc i love him. please let me know some of your own head canons of him and let’s talk about it!!

this has no word counts, not beta read, just fueled by my love for theodore (be kind about it please)

let’s start of with some canon complaints ones!

from what we know theodore (physically) has dark hair, dark eyes, pale skin and was described as lanky/tall. based off of these, i think he definitely has a few girls outwardly crushing on him. like how can you not when he’s quiet and tall? honestly i get.

theodore, with his pale skin, would honestly get flustered very easily and you can tell by his ears!! HIS EARS THAT TURNS RED WHEN HE FEELS JUST SLIGHT EMBARRASSED AND ITS THE CUTEST THING EVER (im taking no arguments here) i said what i said. theo would def keep his hair longer to help mask this little quirk of his and it would work for the most part, if not for the red tips shining through his dark locks from time to time

with how tall he is, i think he’d be pretty clumsy and uncoordinated but it’s just that he has amazing luck that no one ever gets to see him fall flat on his face.

he’s smart, we know this, but i think he’d definitely be book smart rather than street smart (that’s why blaise is in the picture), he’d be pretty closed off and intimidating to anyone who wasn’t part of his friend group, def the type to glare at you if you looked at him wrong

never held hand romantically before, this man gives off straight up ‘no bitches 🤨’ vibes

always needs comforts/hugs or any kind of support but would isolate himself from anyone who tries to provide him any of that because he’s scared of being seen as vulnerable by them

so so hard to read when you first meet him, but the more you spend just literally sitting by his sides you start to able to differentiate between his hums and nods (that’s all you’ll get from him so long as he’s sober and not your boyfriend)

i personally think seventeen’s jeon wonwoo is so so fitting for theodore (or atleast the theodore i write) he has the very cold closed off ice prince thing going on but is such a cutie i love him

now for some romantic traits one

isn’t the biggest fan of PDA —that is if it’s not him initiating it, i feel theo is the type to hold your hand under your desk, or linked pinkies as you walked down the streets, he’s very subtle with his touches but he likes having you in his hands? (if that makes sense)

forehead kisses enthusiast!!!! he would leave a small little peck on your forehead whenever you’d separate for your own classes, he does it very quick —so quick that no one ever catches it and it’s just between you and him and it’s so sickeningly sweet

would have a hard time with impromptu dates, theodore is the type to go all out when it comes to date so when the slightest thing goes wrong he thinks the whole date is wrong and you’re going to break up with him (please reassure him that you aren’t)

has a pet of some sort, he’s such a loser there’s no way he doesn’t have one; convinced you to adopt a v chubby grey cat on your first anniversary, ernie is a very happy member of the family!

isn’t the biggest pet name user? i know i write theodore using princess a lot but it’s mostly to avoid using y/n. but truthfully i think theodore would mostly call you by your name, and on the rare occasions he uses a pet name it would be between baby or my love

lovveeees being called pet name though, call him sweetheart and watch him be at your beck and call

when he loves he loves hard, you can’t tell me theodore wouldn’t be obsessed with you when you’re together. when it’s in private it’s so obvious that he wants to just bask in your attention even though he never does anything (he thinks) is worthy of it, the type to pull away from a kiss with a dopey look and try but fail to hide a smile from you

you know that trope of A calling B clingy and B distance themself bc they’re upset? ITS SO THEODORE, he’s very averse to touch and maybe one day you’re just feeling a bit too upset and need comfort from him “why are you always so clingy?” slips out and everything just comes to pause.

he knows it before he even looks at you that you’re upset, the type that thinks ‘my gf is mad at me i wish i was dead’

doesn’t really know how to apologize to you but you seem pretty cool about it, you’re still going to bed with him and not banishing him to the couch, you won’t let him touch you though “something about it being too hot”

it’s the next day when you won’t even look in his direction let alone kiss him that makes him want to hire a hitman on himself, will buy you so many things as an apology it doesn’t really work

almost asked blaise for help but scratched that idea and asked for pansy’s help instead (still doesn’t really work)

at the end hired a chef and prep dinner in your shared apartment where he got onto his knees and apologize (yes he looked ridiculous, yes it was blaise’s idea, yes blaise told you the plans before hand and asked you for a photo of theodore begging for forgiveness, yes you did get one for him)

he’s possessive and wants you to himself but also knows his place, he knows when to step in and set healthy boundaries but always breaking them just to make you happy, tries to go above and beyond for you always

tried to talk more and communicate with you how he’s feeling because he does not want this relationship to end just because he doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings

such an act of service type of guy too? would run you a bath if you seemed down, learned to cook your favorite food for you despite having the money to always eat out at the best restaurant/hire a private chef to do it for you, knows your work/school schedule very well and made sure that his visits (if there were any) was well timed

big on quality time as well!!! he just likes to have your company no matter what it is you’re doing, he just likes being by your side

loves spoiling you!!! honestly it’s sick how he does it. i think theodore would be the type to buy you whatever you wanted without ever asking you if you wanted it, if the relationship gets more serious (we’re talking living together/sharing socks serious here) would hand you his v sleek black card if you were to tell him you were going out with your friends.

i could see you at one point having an argument with him about it like: “i’m your s/o theo, not your sugar baby.”

“why can’t you just be both?” this mf

—from bee: that’s all for my theodore related rambles, pls don’t be shy and send me ask about theodore so we can talk about him tgt!!!

[hd-junglebook]

The 100 Masterlist

More works for this are coming!!

if you have any questions or comments just ask :)

Neutral

Bellamy Blake x Reader

Diana Sydney's daughter is sent to the ground with 99 other delinquents. While her mother schemes for power and destruction aboard the Ark, y/n must navigate the harsh realities of survival on the ground. As she confronts her own trauma and struggles to define her morality in the face of chaos, she grapples with the ultimate question: Will she rise above her past and choose the path of goodness, or will her mother's influence shape her destiny and lead her down a darker path?

Season 1

Part  1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 6.5 , 7 , 8 , 9 , 10

Edge Of Exile

Bellamy Blake x Reader

As the ark struggles to establish a new home on Earth, Y/N, a prisoner from flint station seems to be the only one who can save them from themselves. the group finds themselves thrust into a dangerous power struggle that threatens to tear the community apart. Faced with betrayal, deceit, and factions vying for control, Y/N must navigate a treacherous landscape of alliances and rivalries.

parts - prologue,  1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7 , 8 , 9 , 10 , 11 , 12

In the process of completing !

The Other Side

John Murphy x Reader

A grounder marked as a spy for the commander is tasked with the case of gathering intel on a group of survivors that fell from the sky. Falling for a member of this foreign group leads the clan into bloodshed.

Part 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5

Lost

A normal plane ride back home ends in shambles as the plane crashes on a remote island far from home. That last survivors band together to survive and uncover the secrets of the island.

Part 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5