#Christmas Dinner Part II | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sleepyconfusedpotato · 8 months ago

Text

Honeybaby

The confession.

Set in New Years Eve 2023, after the events of Call of Duty Modern Warfare II. An immediate continuation of Catch My Breath.

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x Charlotte “Jade” Le Jardin (OC) Characters : Simon "Ghost" Riley, Charlotte "Jade" Le Jardin (OC), Word Count : ~ 5600 Warning : Fluff with a slight bit of angst, a touch of hurt/comfort, and good ol’ cursings.

December 31st, 2022

London, United Kingdom

1500

'Ghost.'

Fuck, he thought. It's been 7 days since the Christmas party in Price's house. That was seven days without contact, without any interactions whatsoever. It had been seven days since they kissed, thanks to that damned mistletoe, and Seven days since Jade pecked him on his cheek.

He should admit, he still remembered the soft pressure on his cheek when she did that, and the fact that he’d been sneaking a hand to that part of his face to rub at it? It always brought him back to that night of December 24th.

Jade had left early. After the dinner with the team, she’d immediately helped Price around the house to tidy up, washed the dishes, and then left without telling Ghost anything.

Was he mad? Should he be mad?

Let's state the facts. They kissed under the mistletoe. It was her first kiss, and she consented to him doing it. And THEN, she asked him to do it again. It seemed like she liked it. He definitely liked it. As much as he hated the fact that it was because of a fucking mistletoe, he couldn't lie about how much he wanted to do that to her.

After that kiss, everything seemed okay. It was okay, they declared to stay friends - until she sneaked an unprecedented peck to his cheek.

He liked it. No, he loved it. Because it wasn't because of anything external. It was because of her own will, and that could not mean nothing.

What he didn't like though, was the reality that she left him hanging for 7 days. Seven days of uncertainty, Seven days of thinking of that little peck. Seven days of Johnny looking at him teasingly because he definitely knew something about that mistletoe and how he and Gaz absolutely had something to do with the location of that vegetation. Fucking hell.

And now, she'd texted him. The first text she'd sent to him after they got each others' numbers.

His heart raced again. She texted him his name and his heart was racing. God dammit, he truly felt like a bloody high schooler, for fuck's sake.

He typed, 'Jade.'

Not long, the woman texted him back,

'First off, I'm sorry for suddenly kissing you on the cheek. I broke your boundaries and it wasn't okay.'

She's apologising.

She's apologising for something he's happy about.

'And I'm sorry for not contacting you for a week. I kissed your cheek and then left without saying anything. It was unfair of me.'

Oh shit. She's continuing.

'I know how private you are with your identity, especially your face. Though I wish that you'd forgive me, it's fine if you don't.'

Fuuuuck.

'I just want to say that I'm sorry for doing that to you.'

'And I wish you could forget about it.'

This fucking woman…

—

There, she finally contacted him.

Ghost's a fast responder. She could tell that his phone's always active as he might get a call for deployment any time. He'd also immediately replied when she only texted his name.

Or had he been waiting for her to text him?

Bollocks. Anyway, she messed up. Leaving him hanging for a whole damn week. A WEEK.

She felt like an arsehole the whole time. Night and day she thought about it and what she should say to him.

It took her a long time to realise, but the days that they'd spent together in Las Almas, the days they worked together, it was one of the best missions she'd ever went on. If she could erase the bloody parts, she'd wish she could experience it again.

Jade cared for him more than she liked to admit. Jade wanted him to be happy. She wanted to see him smile more; she wanted to be close to him. She wanted to know him more. She felt safe with him, she felt like the world’s a better place beside him.

Jade sighed out loud, sitting on her worktable. The Garden was so damn busy this time of year, varying from people celebrating their years together, people declaring their love, or people remembering the love that they had. It was beautiful when she thought about it. People usually buy flowers to give it to someone. It’s a sign of love, showing that I care. Sometimes people give it to other people, sometimes for themselves as well. They give it to family members and friends; alive, or those who've left them earlier.

New Years had always been a mixture of emotions for her because of this line of work; because of how emotional it is.

But this one in particular, she couldn’t focus at all because of him. She’d been thinking about that kiss, and how she wanted to tell him that she meant it. Oh how bad she wanted to tell him that she cared for him.

But then, what did he feel towards her? Was he disgusted that she pecked him without his permission? How stupid, how inconsiderate of her to do that! Thinking about it made her want to scream into the skies at how brainless, imbecilic that act was.

And so, after days of thinking, what she wanted was for him to forget about it.

Because let’s be real. Why would he like her back? He’s a man who conceals his identity precisely so the people around him would stay away from him and not get too close. He must actively avoid people in his life to keep him away from danger and keep them away from danger. Ghost wouldn’t let himself slip like that easily, wouldn’t he?

Ghost? Liking someone?

-- INCOMING CALL --

- Beanpole 💀💢 -

Oh bollocks. He called her. He’s calling her!! Why was he calling her???

‘Answer the call.’ He texted her again, the calling line still active.

Oh no.

‘Now.’

With that, Jade tapped and slid the green icon upwards, putting the phone to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Jade, what kind of fucking bullshit did you just text me.”

Oh shite. He’s livid.

“Ghost I– I didn’t mean that peck. It was just a–”

“Just what? An instinct? Your MI6 instinct?!”

“I was–”

“You're telling me that we just kissed, twice, you left a peck on my face, and you want me to act like it never happened?”

Jade couldn’t say anything to that.

“You’d better believe Price sleeps without his hat first to say that, because for fuck’s sake – what you just said has no logical thinking to it!” He rumbled with his deep voice,

“You want me to forget about it?! Well I can’t!”

Jade had never heard him with this tone before. Ghost’s voice had always been raspy and harsh, filled with a commanding quality necessary in battle. But this tone sounded like he was in absolute anguish.

What he said was right. What she asked would be impossible. She’d been too selfish to think about what he’d want.

Silence lingered on the line, save for Ghost's soft breath after he raised his voice.

Who’s going to say anything at this point? Both of them were confused as to what they should say or what they should do.

“...You busy tonight?” Ghost finally started, making Jade flinch. His voice was back to calm.

“...We’re quite busy at New Years, but our shop closes at 10 PM.”

“Good. RV with me at this location after you’re done.” Right after he said that, Jade received a location ping.

“Ghost… This place is…”

“We need to talk, and not via phone call like this.”

“...Okay.”

“Good. See you there.”

—

Whitehall Garden, London, UK

31.12.2022 2235

Sea of people had filled the edges of the Thames River. One and a half hours before the year changes, the people of London had gathered right across the infamous London Eye in order to witness the drones and fireworks show that the city prepared annually. Jade was a fan of fireworks shows. She adored the beautiful colours that filled the night sky, especially the New Year's, as it’s literally only done once a year.

And now, Ghost told her to meet him in front of the Ministry of Defence building. Standing in front of the General Charles Gordon Statue with tons of other people, she’d wondered of Ghost’s whereabouts. That man could only be seen if he wanted to be seen, there’s no doubt about that.

Jade had texted him that she was at the RV point, 'I'm here.' and he'd already read it. So it's probably not long until she meets him.

"Jade."

A deep, harsh voice that could only belong to Ghost called from right behind her. She turned around on reflex, and found the 6'3" man standing right behind her, just a few mere inches away from each other.

Ghost's wearing a hoodie with his hood up and a pair of jeans with dark shoes. His face was not covered by the iconic skull-painted balaclava. Instead, he wore a black face mask in place of it. His black eye paint was not present around his eyes. She also noticed that he brought a backpack on his back.

Realising that he's far too close for her to think, Jade took a small step back.

"Hey Ghost. So what's the plan?" She shrugged her shoulders, her breaths turning into clouds in the air. "Do you want us to talk here? In the sea of humans?"

"Absolutely not. Follow me and stay close." Ghost turned around and started walking towards the Ministry of Defense building's side entrance. Once they reached the door, Ghost opened the thick wooden door and allowed Jade to enter first before closing the door behind him. The inside of the building was a dark main hall, only a few lights were on.

"Beanpole, what are we doin' here? Are we even allowed to be here?"

"Just follow me." The both of them then fast walked along the walls, until they reached the lift. The man pressed the up button and opened the lift door.

Entering the lift, Jade saw that in order to press a floor, it required an authorised key card. "It needs a keycard. What, do you have it?"

Ghost pulled out a key card, swiped along the electronic key and pressed the button with the highest floor. The metal door closed shut, and the lift started to carry both people up.

"Where did you get that card?" Jade asked out of curiosity, the whirr of the lift being their only company.

"I've got contacts."

"...which was?"

"Guy who goes by the name Roach. He used to be my mate in SAS but now he works here."

"Oh."

'Roach'? Peculiar name. Well, both of them had that 'unkillable' trait to their call signs so Jade could definitely see them being mates.

Reaching the top floor, the metal door opened, revealing a dark hallway after which Ghost led her again to the emergency staircases, where an old, classic-looking staircase was leading up to another upper part of the building. They climbed the stairs again, where the room that could be interpreted as the building's attic was located.

Ghost strolled to the furthest side of the attic, where they climbed another stair into a small balcony high up, closer to where the roof was. Ghost then pressed a chain of 5 numbers on the electronic key on the wall, which made the attic door above them open as they saw the night sky.

As the ladder descended, Jade started. “When you sent me the location of the MOD main building, I thought we were gonna watch fireworks down there.”

He stayed silent, his hands still pulling down the ladder.

“Well, you’ve told me you don’t fancy crowded places. I understand. But on the roofs of MOD? This is new.” Jade continued.

Should he admit that he never really watched fireworks shows? Should he admit that he hated places with too much noise that sometimes his nerves could go into overdrive?

Ghost didn’t say anything until the ladder was down to the floor. “Hop up.” He said, before climbing up the high ladders, Jade followed him from behind.

Once he’s up on the roof, Ghost popped his head to see her below, and unexpectedly, the masked man offered his hand down.

“Take my hand.”

Jade could admit that it still felt weird to see the skin on his bare hands, considering how often he used that skeleton painted gloves. That glove was so iconic Jade had seen it as his actual hand. Now that he was offering his hand, Jade immediately took his bigger palm, where he almost took her entire weight on his arm, making it easier to climb.

The last time he carried her was when she got shot during the prison break in Las Almas. She remembered how Ghost caught her fall and how he carried her to the van with the 141. Remembering that moment made her blush.

Once both of them stepped on the roofs, Jade looked to the other side of the Thames River, where the London Eye stood tall in bright, white lights that lit up the horizons. The Whitehall Garden below was covered with a sea of humans; families, friends, loved ones, together for the last moments of the year.

And when she looked to her side, there stood Ghost, viewing the London Eye just the same. His dark eyes reflected the white lights just right. Jade would be lying if she didn’t find him looking good today. Black was made for him. Not that she’d ever seen him in any other colour before, but seeing him in civvies without the skull mask on sight – It always reminded her that beneath all the ‘Ghost’ facade, he was just another regular bloke underneath. Just a dude named Simon.

The man looked down at his wrist, where his watch showed 22:58. “Good, we’re right on time. Sit down.”

Ghost sat down first, followed by Jade who sat down to his right. They were almost at the edge of the building and she must agree that this was the best spot to see the London Eye.

For a while, they sat there, no words exchanged between them. The winter winds of London brought her – for once – undone hair into the air. Ghost sneaked a glance at her appearance; Long dark green coat, soft brown pants, knitted gloves, and an oversized plaid scarf that messily surrounded her neck and shoulders, plus her wavy hair free falling onto her shoulders and back.

The woman sitting beside him was looking gorgeous in a way that he'd never seen before. She'd always been graceful in appearance, even in combat. It didn't even help him that he was basically asking her to spend New Year's Eve with him instead of with her family. Unlike him who had no family member left to spend his days with, Jade had her parents, she had her coworkers in her florist, and she volunteered for her old orphanage and for a local caring home. Unlike him, Jade was sociable and knew a lot of people.

"Midget." He started, prompting the woman to look at him.

"Hm?"

"You don't celebrate New Year with your parents?"

That question made her smile. "Yeah, I usually go to Piccadilly Circus with them. But when I told them I planned to spend New Year's with a ‘friend from work’, my parents dressed me up in… this, and pushed me out of the house."

Ghost scoffed, "Did you tell them who you're going to meet?"

"No, I didn't. Just 'a friend from work'." The smile on her face grew wider, "You can visit the shop sometime if you want. Probably have a tea or two–"

"No." Ghost cut her words almost immediately. That made Jade flinch. "It's better for them if they never met me."

That sentence caught her attention.

"It will only endanger themselves." His words confirmed her thoughts. As she looked at him with her green eyes, Jade could sense the loneliness in him.

Jade sighed, "Okay. I understand." Watching her breath turn into clouds in the air, she continued, "In this one particular mission… My work followed me home."

Now it's her turn to catch Ghost's attention.

"This one guy wanted to take his revenge on me. I was on the other side of the world when it happened, and he told me that his men got my Pa and Ma on his hitmen's scopes."

"I was fuming mad at him, but then… the hitmen were suddenly MIA. Lost communication." Ghost had decided that this was an interesting story.

"When he shouted to call for the hitmen… my Pa's voice sounded through the radio, saying, "Try again." I swear, my soul almost left my body at that time." The ginger lightly laughed at the memory. "I almost forgot that both of my parents were literal seasoned MI6 black agents."

'Ah, she's lucky.' Ghost thought to himself. Her family consisted of retired black agents, that must be relieving. Unfortunately, not all parents are kind, loving ex-MI6 agents who could take care of themselves.

"Nevertheless, even though I know they were probably better agents than I was in their younger days, and they can definitely take care of themselves… I don't want them to go through that." She continued.

"I love them. And I want them to be safe. Far from any danger that I might bring back from my work. So yes, I understand where you're coming from. But still," Jade tilted her head, “My offer still stands. You can come by anytime, any day.”

Jade finished as her hands pulled out a metallic tumbler. She popped up the lid and started to drink from it.

"What are you drinkin'?"

"Chamomile tea. And!" Jade's hands entered her bag again, and pulled out another black-coloured tumbler before handing it to him. "Here. For you."

Eyeing the bottle in suspicion, Ghost took the tumbler on his hands. "What is this?" He popped out the lid and lowered his mask to his upper lip, taking a sniff of the drink in question. It released steam that immediately disappeared into the winter wind.

"It's something I think you'd like."

It didn't smell suspicious, so Ghost glanced at the woman, before finally lowering his mask to his chin, taking a sip from the tumbler.

"...Black tea?"

Jade smiled at that. "Yep! Your fave." Jade remembered exactly how he didn't like her chamomile tea back in Fuerzas Especiales base, so when she thought about going with tea, she decided to bring another one with black tea. "Is it good?"

"That's alright." He said before drinking again. Looking at him liking the tea, Jade celebrated inside her head.

Putting down the black tumbler on the roof, it's time for Ghost to take his backpack. "Shame. I also brought something."

"Wait, what?"

"I'm the one who invited you, so I must bring somethin' right?"

From inside his bag (which by the way, was FILLED with foam), he pulled out a green bottle with another light brown coloured one, along with two paper cups.

"YOU BROUGHT GIN AND BOURBON IN YOUR BACKPACK?" Jade was absolutely astounded at this man's bag. What's even more surprising was what he pulled out next. "O–Oh my goodness me…"

Ghost put down two double quarter pounders with cheeseburgers, along with fries in front of them. The utter shock was painted all over her face.

"I don't know what else you like."

Jade laughed out loud at this man's actions. He actually bought Micky D's before going to the RV point. And the fact that he said he didn’t know what else she’d like except Gin for alcohol and a double quarter pounder with cheese and fries, it’s probably the funniest thing she had ever seen him do.

She couldn’t hold back her loud laugh that she tipped her body back, almost falling. Saying that Ghost didn’t like the sound of that would be an utter complete lie.

“Oh my GOSH, Simon!” She clapped her hand together, still wheezing from laughter. "You are a top lad!"

Ghost grinned as he observed Jade's laugh. The only thing he did was listen to what she said was her favourite junk food meal back in Las Almas, and now he bought it for her. Nothing big at all, yet her smile was the widest he's seen her.

“Let me.” He poured each liquor to their respective paper cups a good amount. Giving the Gin one to her hand.

For moments they filled their guts with the snacks Ghost brought. He took a glance at the woman beside him every once in a while, looking at how she ate the burger and fries, and how she cutely scrunched her face when the gin caught the back of her throat. He too was eating away at his own burger. To be honest, this was his first time eating junk food in a while. It's been years since he enjoyed a delicious, trashy fast food because of his constant deployments and, basic health, of course. But being with her, he felt like just letting go. He didn't feel like eating something hard-earned. Just an easy quick fucking burger with fries.

Licking her fingers from the fries flakes, Jade started. “Look at us. Eating a double quarter pounder with fries, with booze on the side, on the roof of the Ministry of Defence, waiting for the New Year countdown in front of London Eye. What. A. Scene.”

Suddenly, Jade noticed that Ghost shivered a bit. He took another gulp of the bourbon before finishing his burger.

"Are you cold?"

"...No."

"You're shivering."

"I'm not."

"...Your cheeks are red."

"They are not."

"You always cover them with your mask but they're clearly blushing from the cold."

“You’re seeing things.”

“...Alright, then. That is it.” Out of nowhere, Jade scooted closer to him, pulled half of her scarf before tugging them around Ghost's neck, creating a connection between the both of them.

"Wh-What are you doin’?”

Still tidying the scarf, she answered, “How can I eat peacefully if you’re shivering beside me like this?” Patting the scarf softly in finality, Jade muttered, "There. If it's cold, the solution is to wear more layers. Not drink alcohol. Take this as a payback for lending me your jacket a week ago."

Ah, yes. The jacket she threw to his face after she pecked him on the cheek. He's not going to lie, he should’ve worn that jacket today. The cold was no joke at all. They both rubbed their hands together, and covered their mouths and nose with it, blowing more warm air towards their palms to keep the heat.

Just as they observed the London Eye, Ghost’s watch showed 23.56, signaling the start of the light shows that began commencing right in front of them.

Jade stared at the holograms and dancing drones in the sky, captivated by the attraction, until Ghost called her name.

“Jade.”

“Hm?” She replied, her eyes kept looking at the light show.

“Listen… If you think it's okay, I'm about to say somethin', alright?” said Ghost, as the cold wind kept blowing gently.

What was he about to say? How should she react? Those were the thoughts that crossed her mind. Her racing heart was beating so loud caused by all the questions inside her head. Looking at the direction of the conversation, he might tell her something really, really important.

“ …Alright.” fingers crossed inside her head, Jade shifted her head to look at his eyes, and it was, for the first time, filled with such vulnerability and tenderness. The absence of the black paint left his brown eyes bare – nothing to hide, no front to put up.

“After I say this, I think things will never be the same, though I hope otherwise.” Putting his fists on his knees, Ghost began.

“Ever since I delved into this occupation, I fully commit my life to the job; there's no room for compromise, and if my life ended, then at least I died fighting for my cause.”

His tone grew slightly sombre, probably from remembering the times he enlisted into the army, all the hardships, all the pain and suffering he endured inside and outside the army, it all had made him who he was right here and then.

“But recently, I felt something that I haven't felt in a long, long time, and I thought I must be out of my mind to allow myself to feel this way. “ Ghost continued, his eyes grew softer. It's almost like she saw a glint of light and hope in his eyes.

“I admit that I've been an arse to you; I hadn't been nice, and I don't think I deserve to feel this way for you."

"At first, I didn't know what I was feeling. You were too good at what you do, and you gained my trust all too quickly. But the more I know you, the more I spend my time with you, it became clearer – I admire you, I respect you, I revere you. Until it grows to something more than that.”

Ten! Nine! Eight!

“I thought if I let it be, my feelings would dissipate and go away, but it only became stronger. I can't get you out of my head."

Seven! Six! Five!

“I'm not good with words, so I will say this once.”

Four! Three!

"You brought up a part of me that I didn't know I had. And I like myself more every time I'm with you."

Two!

"Lottie,"

One!

Hundreds and hundreds of little lights shot up into the sky, flying high into the infinite black above. Along with the loud cheers of the people below, the lights exploded and dispersed into beautiful colours of red and blue, filling the night sky with a kaleidoscope-like view. The great bell of Big Ben chimed over and over, bearing witness to the change of the year, the London Eye flashed into colours of blue and red and white.

Ghost never liked New Year's.

He never liked the noises and the sounds of explosions as his nerves and senses went into overdrive at the place where they weren't supposed to. In the battlefield, this bodily reaction would come in handy – it kept him alive. But right at that moment, when Ghost declared his honest feelings to Jade, this might be the worst – and at the same time – the best place to do it.

Jade loved New Year's.

For most of her life, those days were the reason she kept going, to at least survive, and live for another year – just to witness the fireworks. She never once missed a fireworks show, even if she was somewhere else around the world for an assignment, Jade would find a big city and witness the colours of New Year's. Even if she was somewhere where people didn’t celebrate, she’d quickly turn on the TV, however bad the quality was.

Even if she had to camp in the middle of nowhere, she would bring a sparkler rod beforehand, lighting them up as a little firework right in front of her face.

She had to witness them.

Yet as of this moment, she couldn’t be bothered to even look at the fireworks, as her green eyes were fixed only on the man beside her.

If she were to be honest, Jade couldn’t quite hear what he said. The noises were very loud, almost deafening, coming from everywhere around them. The sounds of explosions, chimes of the big ben, loud cheers of the people below, and the music from the London Eye.

But it didn’t take a heavily trained MI6 agent to read lips, especially when he’s speaking right in front of her.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Her eyes widened at those words. No one had ever said that to her before in her life, not one that made her heart race, but also one that made a thousand butterflies fly inside of her.

“But I don’t know if I’m ready.”

And just like that, Ghost left her speechless. The butterflies flying inside her stomach had flown to God knows where. Lights from the fireworks had not stopped exploding, and the noise didn’t dissipate. It only grew louder and louder – a contrast to what was happening inside Jade’s mind right at that moment.

Ghost saw her entire expression. It was a mix of delight yet of confusion. A face of joy and love, yet of bewilderment. It’s like she’s still processing his words, and understandably so. He felt like an utter and complete arse at that moment. He just confessed his feelings to her, only to say that he cannot dedicate himself to it.

For a moment, he kept looking at her face. The fireworks light reflecting on her skin, the cold winter wind combing through her wavy hair.

She’s so goddamn beautiful. Fucking hell. How can he not love her? It’s impossible for him not to fall for her.

It took a really long time for her to finally change her expression. He thought he saw her breath hitched before closing her lips together tightly. It seemed that she’d finally regained her composure, so he continued.

Ghost balled his fist even tighter on his knees, “This job is essentially my whole life, and it’s full of uncertainty. You said you felt safe with me, Lottie, but it’s not true.” He swallowed, “Being with me is anything but safe.”

Jade only stared at him.

“You deserve the whole world, Jade, and I’m afraid I cannot give it to you. I care for you more than I thought I did.” He admitted. “I want to make you happy, but I can’t. I don’t know how.”

Ghost kept on observing her reactions, but she gave none. The woman’s expression looked… empty. Was it her instinct to not give out any expressions during vulnerable times? It might be so, considering her background. Still, what did he expect? For her to be mad? Cry? Disappointed?

Instead, what Ghost saw before him a few seconds later was an expression of… relief? He didn’t know what to interpret them as, but Jade smiled. It was full of sincerity and at the same time, sadness. He was a little bit taken aback at that. Part of him thought that their relationship that they’d built through hard-earned trust would go down the drain from his words alone. However, it was not what happened, as she called his name.

“Simon.”

He blinked, waiting for her next words.

“Can I hug you? Please?”

Jade's plea sounded like a person's last wish.

It saddened him so. He wanted her to be happy. God, he wanted to. But in the current state he is in right now, it's almost impossible.

So he nodded softly, and she embraced him in a soft, warm hug. Jade's chin rested on his shoulder, his chin on hers. Their bodies pressed together, arms circling their figures so tight, yet so gently. His long arms could almost envelop her entire figure in a bear hug.

Ghost closed his eyes, smelling the scent of her hair that touched his face from the blowing wind, pressing his palms on her back to feel her as close as possible.

As the fireworks kept coming up, they hugged like a lifeline. Not wanting to let go, at least he didn't.

"You've told me what you wanted to say. Now I'll say what I want to say, alright?" Still pressing her cheek to her neck, she voiced softly.

"...alright," he replied.

Jade grasped his jacket, took a deep breath, and started, "I've never met someone who's so similar to me. I've always lived alone, thrived alone, and survived alone, until I met you."

Ghost stayed still.

"I said it before, I feel safe with you. I can be myself. I don't have to hide anything. And I care for you."

"You said you want to make me happy, so I'll say this: I want to see you happy, more than anything. Nothing makes me happier than looking at your smile."

In the middle of the loud noise, she confessed.

"I love you too, Simon.”

Hearing that sentence felt like a boulder had just been lifted up from his shoulder; his chest that felt tight for God knows how long released its tension. He tightened his hold on her ever so gently. God, she's so warm.

For a while they hugged, not saying anything, until Jade rubbed his back up and down. Realizing that they need to part, Ghost let out a breath that dissipated into the air.

They stared at each other's eyes. Everything was different now. The person in front of them knew that they loved one another; recognizing that the person in front of them meant the whole world to each other. A moment of epiphany reflected in their eyes.

Ghost started. "Let's not change, yeah?"

Jade's mind interpreted that into two meaning, but she chose to believe the more hopeful and the certainly better one. From the way he looked at her, Jade was sure that she's right.

She nodded, "Yeah. Of course. But..."

That last word made Ghost flinch. Who said only he could say a 'but'?

"I'm not someone who will sit and wait, Simon."

Ghost widened his eyes.

"I love you, and I'm here for you. You're the only one for me." She continued. "But I'm not going to ask you 'what are we?' after too long."

Her eyes reflected a kind of conviction she'd always displayed in the battlefield. Jade might be a warm, kind-hearted, most uncomplaining woman he'd ever met, but she's not a fool either.

"I'm ready. I want us to be ready. So I will wait for you." Jade declared with finality. A smile formed in her lips.

Her words might be the ones entering his ears, but Ghost's mind registered one phrase.

'Don't play with my heart.'

Like he would. That's the last thing he wanted. Jade's heart was the last thing he wanted to play with and make wait. He must admit, he hadn't seen all sides of Jade yet. And Jade hadn't seen all sides of him. But he's willing to reveal them -- in time.

Ghost smiled back. "Yes Ma'am."

---

Journey back to The Garden was… normal. It wasn't awkward nor anything uncomfortable given that they just literally confessed their affection for each other, rather a pleasant walk and bus ride, thanks to Jade's conversational skills that were superior compared to his. She'd asked multiple questions about himself, and not the deep ones, but the very mundane, unimportant facts.

"What's your favorite season?"

"Summer.”

"Do you watch Football?"

"Only on some occasions.'

"I find that hard to believe. Who do you support?"

"City."

"Oh. Is blue your favorite color?"

"Black is, but I just found out some time ago that black is a shade, not a color. So blue it is."

"I'd really love to see you in blue outfits."

He made a mental note on that.

It didn't feel like 1 hour of commute for them to find themselves in front of The Garden. It's 2 AM, but some lights were still shining since it's the first day of the year, casting a light on their faces.

Jade looked at Ghost, glancing at the pavements to avoid her gaze.

"Beanpole."

He looked at her.

Her gentle voice felt like a warm glow of the sun in the middle of winter, "Happy new year."

Ghost couldn't hold the grin on his face. Yep. It is a new year indeed. New beginnings, new journeys, new endings. "Another fuckin' trip around the sun."

They giggled together, the sound so pleasing to their ears. They couldn't wait to hear more of it.

"I should call it a night. We're opening the shop early this morning."

"Oh. Yeah, you should rest." He sounded disappointed.

Jade lifted her hand, held it into a fist, and lightly pushed it on Ghost's chest. "See you, Simon."

"See you, Lottie." Ghost raised his right hand to tap Jade's shoulder once.

What she didn't expect though, his hand ran slowly along her clothed arms, from her shoulder, her arm, down to her forearms, ending on her hand. His palm ran noticeably slower once he reached the back of her hand.

He subtly traced her knuckles and to the most end of her fingers, making the most out of that touch, before his legs shifted to walk away.

"Text me, yeah?" Ghost said with finality, their distance increasing.

"You text me." Jade said with a loud volume. She could tell he's laughing as he started to disappear from view.

Jade smiled, rubbing her hands together to keep the heat on her hand. Remembering all the things that happened tonight. Gosh, that was something else.

She started to giggle, squealing in a high pitch when she remembered the words he said. Her feet tapped side by side on the snowy pavement. Ghost? Saying those words?? Oh, she might fly away. He said he's bad with words, but that was not bad at all (not that she had any comparison. Still, he could be sweet when he wanted to.

"Lottie? Back already?" A man's voice muttered to her.

Jade looked to the side, recognising her father and mother, walking hand-in-hand, looking as romantic as ever. They clearly looked so happy together, spending another new year's eve with each other's company.

"Yeah. I just got back too." Jade nodded.

"Great! I cooked some chicken casserole after you left. Let's feast on that and maybe get some wine yeah?" Her mother chimed, while her father kissed her on the forehead.

Jade reflected on the life she'd lead, and the lives that both of her parents had lived as retired black agents who'd ben through hell and back. The gratefulness that they felt each year, to spend it with the most important person in their lives.

What a dream that was.

What a dream to live.

Fin.

---

Happy New Years 2025 everyone!! 🤩 May this year be cheerful and bright, bringing up hope and joy to us all.

Thank you for reading!

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod #cod mw #simon ghost riley #cod mw22 #charlotte jade le jardin #call of duty oc #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #ghost x jade #ghostjade #ghost x oc #simon riley

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coquettepascal · 8 months ago

Text

cranberry christmas

part iii of my series "texas sweet!" texas sweet masterlist and my masterlist

summary: it's your first christmas with the miller family, which brings all sorts of new feelings out of you and joel. he relieves your anxiety in a few giving ways (tis the season!)

tags: 18+, smut, anxious!reader, dilf!joel, joel is kind of a flop (but in a cute way), gentle!joel, found family (a little), the miller family being cute, reader has an anxiety attack, mentions of troubled family life, dorky christmas cheesiness, reader celebrates christmas, heavy on the f!reader for this one, reader has boobs, reader has hair, reader wears lingerie, dryhumping, almost powerbottom!joel (?), begging, nippleplay, hickeys, coming untouched, praise kink a little, realistic people in unrealistic situations, establishing of relationship

part i -> part ii -> part iii

a/n: this honestly got way out of hand, but i LOVE IT!! i hope you all have a lovely holiday season <3

(5.1k, not beta read)

“How long have you been a dad again?”

You’re staring at the pile of gifts that Joel has “wrapped” so far. The striped paper is wrinkled on a few of them like he balled up the paper before wrapping the gift, other ones have glaring bald spots that reveal what they are without having to unwrap them.

Joel huffs, grumbling to himself as he’s hunched on the floor, cutting out another square of paper to wrap a book.

“Long enough to know that if I stay down here too long my back’ll hurt tomorrow,” he responds.

The Christmas tree in his living room has been thoroughly decorated, leaving the lights to reflect from glass ornaments onto his face. Joel looks stressed tonight, but he’s just been stressed all the time lately. The colder months have brought shittier weather, which has him worried about snowfall on sites that couldn’t take it at the moment. Anytime you’ve seen him recently, his skin has still been cold from the outside, his nose slightly red.

He looks at your pile of gifts, which have been neatly wrapped and finished with stick-on bows, and then scrunches his face, quietly mocking your words. You laugh, feigning offense as you tilt your head.

“Oh I’m sorry, I just assumed you would have been better with your hands, Joel,” you retort in return. Instantly his head is back up so he can look at you, a shocked expression on his face.

“You sayin’ I’m no good with my hands?” He asks, a bit incredulous.

Your eyes are rolling before you can help it, smiling as you shake your head.

“No–” you start.

“I can prove that I got perfectly fine hands. Fingers too for that matter,” he dares.

Joel shoves the wrapping paper out of his way as he scoots his way over to you, his knees scrubbing the hardwood floor. He’s smiling stupidly, clearly excited to get out of wrapping gifts.

“Joel!!” You huff, trying to squirm away from him as he gets closer to you. You’ve learned he has a serious personal space problem.

“What, angel? S’not like anybody else is home,” he grins, nosing at your cheek.

And God. Yeah, finally, nobody is fucking home.

You and Joel have been something for the past however many months. Time has flown quickly, with life and love brushing past your skin in a wind of smiles. Work takes over Joel’s life before he realizes it, and it happens a lot. Maybe that would be a problem for most people, but you live right next door. It’s not like there’s space between you, especially since you can knock on his door whenever you want to.

But you’re both adults, and spontaneity requires energy that you both lack.

The current schedule you’ve fallen into is seeing him on Friday evenings, whenever he gets home from work, a small date on Saturday if you have the energy, and family dinner on Sunday. Yes, you’ve now worked up the courage to look his daughters and brother in the eye. After you started showing up more often they began to bond with you more, especially his girls. Ellie and Sarah are both young, both smart, and as different as they are, it just makes for a firecracker-y relationship that’s hard not to interact with.

You’ve fallen into place as Joel’s something, as someone to his family.

The only problem you and Joel have is actually getting alone time. Since you both work so much, and he’s so family oriented, it’s been hell actually trying to get alone time with him. Not even just time to… do stuff. Just having a private moment is tough. Someone is always in his house, and as much as you have your own house, his feels more like home.

You didn’t even set up your tree this year. The living room is bare of holiday cheer, save for the growing pile of presents that you’ve built in the corner near the couch. Finding home in Joel has not helped you find your place in Austin still, the lack of familial familiarity has sucked the love from your walls. The whole house just feels like dead skin that’s ready to flake away anytime you’re there. You want to brush it from its plot of land and go back to the place next door, where warm light and voices hold the roof down and raise it all the same.

So yeah, your house isn’t really where you want to be, ever. Sacrificing sex with Joel isn’t the best, but you want to be around him more than anything. As long as he’s there, you don’t care so much if he’s getting you there. At least not usually.

“Yeah, no one’s home,” you repeat back to him.

The incandescent bulbs that are strung onto the tree are casting light through his hair. Tiny flecks of grey are all you can get a view of right now as he pushes his nose beneath your jaw, pressing kisses to the tender skin that tingles under his lips.

“Mhm,” he grunts, biting at your skin then kissing over it when you wince slightly. “N’they won’t be home for at least an hour.” His hands are skimming over the waistband of your pajama pants, warm fingers dipping to touch the band of your undies.

“Yeah,” you say again. You’re losing words. It always feels like you lose your words, breath, and brain around him, but maybe it’s because you don’t need it. Joel keeps kissing at your neck as he reaches around, tapping your bum so you lift up for him.

The lights in the room flash into pink as your eyes slide shut and your pants are tugged down more. It’s been too long, you need this, he needs this.

Joel doesn’t hesitate. As soon as your pants are down enough, his hand is in your undies, skimming the hair there and then pressing against you. A surprised huff puffs into your neck as he feels how wet you’ve gotten, how quick.

And then keys. And then the front door is swinging open. And then your pants are shoved up and everyone’s home and you aren’t in your mind, but it’s fine. It’s fine.

You’ll find time before Christmas.

—

Today is Shitmas.

“Shitmas. Y’know, like the day in Christmas week where you do a bunch of Christmas-y shit,” Tommy had informed you about a week ago, after you had slowly turned to look at him in the living room.

The Miller family does Shitmas on the 23rd of December, and supposedly it includes, but is not limited to, family pictures in the living room, cookie baking and decorating (lead by Sarah), and sock snowman making.

They do this every year, and you can tell because as soon as you show up on Shitmas, you’re greeted by little sock snowmen. They line the stairs, each one with a year labelled on the belly. The first few are singular snowmen, but somewhere along the way it turns into two, marking when Ellie joined their family. Over the years they’ve obviously improved, but there’s something special about the first few on the stairs. Mismatched eyes, splattered glitter glue, and Joel’s printing on their bellies, instead of Sarah’s, all grace the earliest dated snowmen.

Ellie was the one to let you into the house today, since apparently Joel is helping Sarah bake and his hands are “nasty,” in Ellie’s words.

“Kinda ugly, huh?” Ellie teases as you crouch to look at them on the stairs. Sarah calls out somewhere in the house, over the noise of the electric mixer, and it makes you huff a laugh.

“I think they’re endearing. It’s nice that Joel keeps these,” you reply. She somewhat agrees, an “I guess,” begrudgingly leaving her lips before Joel finally walks up and she skips off back to the kitchen.

Joel’s drying his hands with a dishtowel still as he embraces you, sighing deeply.

“Hey angel, sorry. Fuckin… Raw egg all over my hands,” he mutters as he squeezes you tight. The two of you pull apart for a moment, but not before Joel’s going back in and pressing a kiss to your forehead. As your palms settle against his chest, you can’t help but notice how warm he is, the skin beneath his shirt, hot and giving plushly under your fingers.

“I like the girls’ snowmen,” you tell him fondly, peeking over your shoulder at them. When you look back at him, he’s looking at them, a softness in his eyes.

“Ellie hates doing those, she only does it because Sarah likes to.”

—

Shitmas has been stupidly fun so far. Watching Tommy and Joel try their best to decorate cookies while Sarah makes Great British Bake Off worthy ones, all while Ellie smears smiley faces onto each one in an effort to make her sister proud has raised your spirits infinitely. You decorated a few cookies, but mostly watched in awe as Sarah expertly pressed sprinkles into each of the cookies and piped patterns onto them. It kind of felt like wasting cookies to not let her decorate them, even though she bakes them each year so everyone can participate.

Now, you’re sitting on the couch. The cookies are all sitting on the kitchen counter, abandoned as each family member bustles around the house getting ready for the picture they’ll take in front of the tree.

Surprisingly, Tommy is done getting ready first. Honestly you figured it would have been Joel, but maybe he’s putting some extra effort in today, rather than just running a comb through his hair. Tommy’s appearance at first is only surprising because of how meticulous he can be with his hair. Joel has told you about the times they’ve been late because his hair was “fighting” him some mornings.

“Hair cooperated with me,” he says as he takes a seat next to you on the couch. Sometimes it feels like Tommy can either read your mind, or just says shit to take up space. You respond with a nod and a mild expression of acknowledgement, a little off in your own world.

“You forget your flannel or somethin?” Tommy asks next. You almost nod again, on auto-pilot, but then stop.

“What?” You ask, head turning in his direction. He laughs in disbelief, and for a moment you feel embarrassment start burning at the base of your neck in fear he’s laughing at you. Were you told to bring something and didn’t?

“Hold on,” Tommy says, grunting as he curls up and off the couch a second later.

He leaves you alone in the living room, left to listen to the crackling fireplace channel on TV and the sound of Ellie protesting over Sarah wanting to put hairspray on her.

Tommy’s heavy footsteps clomp around upstairs, leading into Joel’s bedroom. Not dissimilar to the girls downstairs, the rumble of Joel’s voice hits the floor and you roll your eyes, holding a laugh. There aren’t words you can make out, but you’re sure that Joel is mightily unhappy at the random intrusion of his brother.

The more you learn about this family, the more you feel like you’re falling into place, and the more you experience being in it, the farther away your own family feels.

You sit on the couch, still as can be, as you listen to the sound of Tommy rummaging around his older brother’s room, the sound of the hairspray being spritzed while Ellie groans. The sounds are feeling increasingly farther away, even though the girls are downstairs and the boys are only upstairs. Your eyes move to the cookies sitting on the counter, the messy dishes in the sink, and suddenly the stickiness from the icing beneath your nails is too much.

What are you doing here? What is this Hallmark movie family you’ve found yourself in?

The thump of your heart ramps up, pumping blood to your ears and making it rssshhhh in the back of your mind just as you begin to chase your breath. It’s all too nice, and maybe you aren’t entirely undeserving, but this is all so unfamiliar. Your own family isn’t terrible, but in comparison to this, it feels so dull. Christmas was just lights and presents before, not tradition and excitement the way that fucking Shitmas has been so far. You’re one activity into the day and it’s already so much better than what you can remember from back home.

Maybe this is what influenced your decision to stay in Texas for the holidays. Maybe somewhere in you, you knew that this would be better. You’re sitting here, in another family’s home, taking your own family for granted, and for what? Some cookies and some pictures? For the sake of a relationship that isn’t even labelled yet? You deserve this, you deserve to chase your breath and wipe your tears. Selfish girl, if you didn’t feel right in your own family, what right do you have to find a place in theirs?

Nobody in this house asked you to be here but Joel, and really, you just showed up on his doorstep.

Your eyes are shut as you catch your breath, squinched together so tightly that you see sparks of colour behind your eyelids. Tears keep slipping out and you wipe under your eyes politely, trying not to choke on any noises. The bathrooms are occupied, don’t make a fool of yourself in the living room.

Tommy and Joel’s voices increase in volume until they’re in front of you, and you open your eyes to see the pair staring at you. Tommy avoids your eyes as soon as you’re looking back at him, while Joel just seems a little shocked.

“Hey,” Joel says, a festive red flannel in his grip. “Why don’t we head upstairs for a second?”

—

You cry for a long while before you actually manage to tell Joel what’s upset you.

Sat on the edge of his bed, you cry into your palms until your cheeks are red and blotchy, and snot covers the inside of your palms and the bridge of your nose. It’s ugly, nasty, and not what you want to be doing at all. Your family is fine, just boring and emotionally detached, and you’re crying about it to the hardest working single father you know, who has essentially built his life on his own with the help of his brother.

“I just feel so stupid and– and totally out of place. What have I done to earn my place here?” You ask him, eyes puffy and sad as you stare up at him.

Joel looks hurt. He has looked hurt for a long while, but you couldn’t see it when you were buried in your palms. His brows are pinched, his eyes wrinkled at the outer corners as he looks at you, almost seeming to pity you. For a moment his eyes flash away, not to anything in particular, but just to gather himself.

“Earn your place? Baby, what?” He questions. You stay quiet, feeling just as confused as he sounds.

His hands clench where they rest on his thighs, then relax as he sighs, head tilting to the side so he can look at you again.

“You don’t… earn your place in our family, darlin, you’re invited.”

How could you be so fucking dense?

Anyone that’s in Joel’s life, apart from Sarah, is somebody he actively invited in. His allowance of Tommy to be a near second father figure to Sarah and Ellie, his adoption of Ellie on its own, the majority of his family has been let in. It could have been just him and Sarah, but he wanted more so he allowed more, and he allows more because he loves what the more in his life is.

Joel takes a deep breath, again, and seems to steel his nerves.

“You are so much more than invited into our family, angel, you’re welcomed wholly. But, if that’s too much right now and it’s bringing you worry, it’s fine for you to just be my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend.

That is not the topic right now, that is so not the topic right now, but he said the word.

Joel loves the more in his life, and now he’s added you to that “more” officially. A label, a name, a little add-on to your identity. You’re putting “Joel’s Girlfriend” on your imaginary nametag in a million different fonts in your head before you realize he’s still talking.

“You fit right in with us, baby. The girls love you, Tommy loves you, I love you, but you know that one,” he laughs. “It’s up to you if you wanna think of yourself as a part of our family, but know that we already do.”

A smarter response should come out of your mouth here. Joel has just said a lot of touching things that have sunk into the meat of your body, warming you, but a smart response isn’t something you can manage.

“I’m your girlfriend?” You ask.

Joel’s brows furrow. “Yeah?”

He says it the way an eighth grader would say “Duh.”

Your look of “When did this happen?” meets Joel’s look of “Where have you been?” at the same time, and only then does he realize.

—

His apology for completely forgetting to ask you to be his official girlfriend for the last however many months is by cleaning you up really nicely for the photo.

Joel starts by fixing your hair, letting you sit between his knees as he gently pulls it away from your face. His hands run through it so carefully, a tenderness that only an experienced girl-dad like him could provide. When he’s finished, he leans down and presses a kiss to the top of your head, adding a mumbled “sorry” in, just to really save his ass.

With anyone else you’d be upset at them for forgetting something so pivotal in a relationship, but with Joel you lend as much patience as he gives you. He’s busy, stupidly so, and with how close and intense the two of you are with one another, it’s not absurd for it to have slipped his mind. In some ways it’s flattering, and you’d like to ask how long he’s been thinking of you as his girlfriend.

You’re just about to when he holds up the flannel in front of you, the one that he and the rest of his family are apparently wearing for the photo.

“You don’t have to. Seriously. We just talked about family and stuff and if you aren’t ready for that, then that’s–” He’s talking fast, but not as fast as you move to grab the flannel from him.

“I’m your girlfriend, of course I have to be in the picture.”

—

The rest of Shitmas was less, well, shit.

Ellie and Sarah did their yearly sock snowmen after the photo was taken and they turned out lovely, or at least Sarah’s did. Ellie purposefully overstuffed hers with rice just to see how big she could make the snowman before he exploded, which resulted in him exploding later that evening when his rotund body toppled down the stairs.

Now it’s Christmas Eve, and you’re prepping for tomorrow morning. Your house still isn’t decorated in the slightest, the only festive thing about it being a laundry basket full of gifts that you’ll tote over to Joel’s tomorrow morning.

Your lower back is absolutely killing you from wrapping the last of Joel’s gifts, something he had warned you of, but you had foolishly ignored. You figured it was an old man thing, not a consequence of too many presents. It feels like heaven when your back finally rests against the couch, your head leaning back as you sigh.

Since talking with Joel yesterday about the family stress and what the two of you are, you feel a hell of a lot better. Your lungs almost feel like they’re more open than before.

Just as you’re relaxing, eyes sliding shut in stressless bliss, someones at the door.

You grunt as you peel yourself off the couch, trudging to the door and opening it. It’s strange that anyone is at your door, especially since Joel is out with Tommy and the girls going Christmas light spotting.

Or at least he’s supposed to be.

Joel stands at your door in a loose shirt and grey sweatpants, looking sheepish.

“Do you want to come over for a bit?”

—

Alone. Finally, alone.

You’re sat halfway on Joel’s lap, sucking a mark into his neck as he leans back, cursing softly.

“Fuuuckin’ god, you know I missed you,” he groans. You nod into his skin, teething at the skin softly before pulling back to lick at the reddened spot.

Your hands grip up his sides, feeling the solid width of his body, the plushness of his tummy when your hands sink into the right spot, and you want to whimper. He’s so stupidly big, and you’re so grateful he took his shirt off almost as soon as you both started making out.

Under the lights of the tree, he already looks fucked out. Joel is almost completely limp against the back of the couch, head leaned back to expose his thick throat, bitten down and bruised with marks he might regret in a few hours. His eyes are halfway shut, but dark as ever even in the warm glow of the room which also illuminates the contours that form along his tanned skin.

He feels your eyes on him, his own opening in an attempt to meet yours, but it only brings attention to his face. Pink lips sit pretty on his face, slightly parted and puffy from kissing you dizzy earlier. Again, his eyes squeeze shut as you drag your nails up across his chest, only to fly open.

“Wait– Wait I have something,” Joel sputters. He slides you off his lap, scrambling to the Christmas tree with boyish urgency.

Joel returns with a red present, one that he actually wrapped fairly neatly.

It’d be sweet if you weren’t literally two seconds from tearing his grey sweats off his body and riding him into next year before he had shoved you off.

“It’s not Christmas,” you point out, but he shakes his head and shoves the gift into your hands.

Begrudgingly, you unwrap the gift and lift the lid off the box beneath the paper. Laying flat in the bottom of the thin box, cushioned by white tissue paper, is a red, babydoll, nightie. A blush lashes across your cheeks as you lift it out of the box, discovering that the top of it has no bra cups, or really anything to support your tits at all. Red ribbon frames the bust of the nightie limply in a triangular shape, a fluttery mesh making up for the remainder of the piece. It looks and feels expensive, and on top of that it’s totally sexy, even more so since Joel is the one that bought it for you.

Joel had gone out and picked this just for you, he had probably thought about you wearing this every night for the past week. The idea of it is making you increasingly more aroused, your eyes flicking to his, then down to the bulge in his pants.

“If it’s too much then I’ll return it but,” Joel’s chest is heaving with excitement, biting his lip as he looks at the nightie, “but I kind of want to fuck my beautiful girlfriend before Christmas.”

The two of you are upstairs quickly, with Joel settling in bed and you changing in the bathroom.

You look at yourself in the reflection of the mirror once you’ve put the ensemble on, if you can call it that. The underwear that came with the nightie are barely a scrap of fabric. Normally you’d feel really uncomfortable in something like this, hyperfocusing on small things, like how the pouch of your belly looks, or how your tits don’t look nearly as full as you want them to, but not right now.

Joel Miller just gave you, his official girlfriend, lingerie for Christmas. Because he wants to fuck you in it.

Shamelessly, you open the door into Joel’s bedroom, basically bouncing onto the bed.

“It’s so nice,” you tell him right away, wanting to show your gratitude. He’s down to his boxers as he lays beside you, eyes scanning up and down your body as you sit in his bed, almost as sexy as you are naked.

Joel is still like that for almost a minute, making your brain run haywire. Tonight, he’s left the bedside light on. It’s probably so he can see you, but it’s always special when he lets you see him while you both get intimate. He doesn’t touch you at all, just scoots up the bed so he’s sitting upright and unblinking, until finally:

“I want you to use me,” Joel blurts out.

It’s more surprising than the gift. Your voice is a tiny whine in the back of your throat, your mouth forming the word “what,” but before you can finish, his hands are on your hips, lifting you onto his thigh.

“There, I want you to use me there,” he near-demands.

You’re speechless. Joel is vocal in bed for sure, always talking a lot and never really quiet, but he hasn’t been so… commanding before. He’ll ask for things occasionally, a certain position or act, but not like this. Your hips are still as he pushes you down onto his thigh, the hair on it smushing into the softness of your skin.

“C’mon, angel, I can feel you. Fuck my thigh, use me, I want it.” He encourages.

Joel’s hands grab onto you tighter now, starting to make you move your hips until you do it on your own. It feels like you’re making a dumb face, eyes wide and brows pinched together, but you can’t help but feel surprised.

This is Joel, your Joel, who was hesitant to have sex with the lights on, or even let you look at his dick in general, and now he’s making you hump his thigh? It’s completely new to you, but you aren’t mad.

Once you’ve picked up your own pace, and stabilized yourself with your hands on his shoulders, he reaches up. Joel keeps his eyes trained on your face as he takes advantage of how your tits are on full display in the nightie, plucking and rolling your nipples in his fingers all while talking you through what’s going on.

“I know, I know you needed this,” he nods at you, “I needed it too, baby. Missed you like this.”

It feels awfully good grinding against his thigh, and something about this newfound side of Joel with the added fact that you guys haven’t had a moment alone in probably a month, is making this so much more explosive. You roll your hips just right and gasp as one side of the undies slips into the slit of your cunt, the less soft edge of the elastic brushing your clit. A pathetic noise is ripped from you as your hips stutter, body shocked from the sudden direct stimulation.

“No,” Joel says right away. His hand reaches around and cups the bottom of your ass, letting his fingers sink into the crease between your butt and thigh as he drags you forward again.

“Want your messy pussy all over me, please angel I need it so bad,” he says, guiding your movements as you start to go limp, head falling back. You barely register the feeling of his hand on your waist, trying to balance you as he fucks your wet cunt onto his leg.

You let out a tiny noise as the elastic of the undies bites into your clit again and for whatever reason it makes Joel groan too.

“S’exactly what I wanted, angel. Wanted my pretty girlfriend to come all over me an’ have her tits in my face.”

Whatever the hell has gotten into him you hope it gets into him again. He keeps rubbing you into his leg until you’re begging for more stimulation, your limp arms reaching to grab at his hand and push it up to your breasts again.

“M-my nipples,” you beg softly, tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation on your clit. He doesn’t hesitate, half smiling as he starts playing with your nipples again.

“Like this? Is this gonna make my pretty baby come?” He teases as he rolls your nipples repeatedly between his fingers.

All of it is too much, but it’s exactly what you wanted at the same time. Your orgasm completely fucks you out as you keep your eyes on his, mouth hanging open dumbly as he keeps one hand playing with your nipple and the other reaching down to cup your ass and grind your cunt harder on his thigh.

“Good girl, fuckin’ God,” Joel says, staring down as your ruined undies mash into his skin. You can’t tell if you’re coming down or if this orgasm is just super long for no reason, but if it was ending, it’s extended the moment Joel’s thigh clenches up.

You look down as you whimper, wondering why he’s chosen midway through your orgasm to fuck you up again, but then realize that he didn’t choose.

A fat, pearly, translucent bead, sprouts from where the head of his cock lays beneath his black briefs. You can see it grow bigger in the light, listening as Joel groans and curses, his lower half thrashing beneath you. His chest is heaving and the hand on your ass is digging deep.

“Jesus– God, baby, what you do to me,” he grits through his teeth as his back finally hits the headboard again.

Frankly, you’re speechless. You didn’t realize that would happen, or really that it could happen. You weren’t even touching him and he came, he was only watching you. It isn’t like he shot a huge load of come, but still, something came out.

Joel seems to be coming to the same conclusion as he breathily laughs, looking down at the mess before tugging you down onto him anyway, burying his nose in your hair.

“Good gift,” he mumbles, maybe to you, maybe to himself. “Definitely buyin’ you another one next year.” [ <3 ]

----

please leave comments, rbs/tags, or drop into my askbox ! i love to chat and listen <3 tags (people who i think will like this?? maybe??) @bambisweethearts , @pascalssbabyy , @ajps-posts , @starcaviar , @hisvision , @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal , @joeloverture , @mochamadeleines , @taeslarityy , @theweedisasterxoxo , @pawnshopb1ues , @hellishjoel , @slutty-express , @kyloispunk , @rainbowcosmicchaos , @stefanibear003 , @pedrostories [i plan on making an updates blog or something soon, apologies!]

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader smut #ellie fic rec box #tlou #joel miller: texas sweet #texas sweet #pedrostories

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dilf-docs · 3 months ago

Text

High Heels, Hushed Whispers

harry castillo x younger fem!reader

summary: a black dress, high heels and a fancy dinner. that's all it takes for you to fall into harry's scheme. or, better said, trap.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, (eventual) smut, foes to hoes, (one sided) enemies to lovers, angst, rich ppl (yes that's a warning), slowburn, reader may be a bit of a cunt (sorry if this x reader fic is mischaracterizing u), ft. dbf!harry (love this trope so much and had to squeeze it in, my bad)

word count: 3,562 words

side note: i'm lowkey crashing out in FOMO so bad bc materialists won't release in my country until july 31th💔 the need to move to US for my master's just to inherit a lifelong debt but never missing out as a cinephile again,,, HhmmM also, streets saying we're getting the gladiator II treatment in the marketing sense💔💔 UGH WHY WON'T YOU CHOOSE BILLIONARE IN THIS ECONOMY? PEDRO PASCAL FACED BILLIONARIE??!! tbh i'm a hypocrite bc if pedro was poor i'd still chose him anyway... this is in honor of materialists NYC premiere today, hope my man goes 🕯🕯

part: prev | masterlist | next

Picking up calls you shouldn't pick up is a lesson you've yet to learn. Damned be your work habits slipping up into your personal life.

"Let's see if I understand" from the other line.

You take a deep breath, pausing. "Yes?"

"You're going on a date and didn't tell me"

You roll your eyes, looking out the window.

"I would've told you if it was a date, Rach"

You were always a good liar.

"At least I could helped you pick your outfit" she whines. "Like old times!"

It's almost as if you can see her pouting through the phone.

"I would've let you" you concede, "but I already chose the dress you gave me last Christmas"

A fine red garment tailored in authentic silk that hugged your body just right.

"Great choice. That's a killer" then, there's silence, followed by a loud gasp that elicits another eye roll from you. "Wait. Don't tell me- You're already there!"

Your lips quirk up in a smirk. "Maybe"

"You are a terrible friend" but Rachel's words carry no real weight. "At least give me a clue?"

You remember the address, marked in the GPS screen in front of you.

"Boring"

"That's not a clue" she huffs, "everything's boring to you"

You look out the window, the mansion coming into your view.

"Extra boring"

"It's a social gathering, then. You hate those" and you hate how much she's right. Probably knows you better than your dad. Yourself even.

"Your silence proves I'm right" and again, you roll your eyes.

"Goodbye, Rach"

"At least find someone to take home. Your house reeks of loneliness"

It's a joke, but there's a weird pit in your stomach when you hang up. It shouldn't matter that much, but you can't keep pretending you are choosing to spend more time at the office, because going back to a place where the only sound is that of your own steps, echoing back to you, the surface and space looking so artificial, like a hotel room, has become some sort of torture.

Your driver, Joaquín, parks right in front of the entrance. Before he moves, you raise your hand.

"I can do this by myself. Thanks"

He knows better to contradict you and you don't know if you are convincing him or yourself.

"Have a nice night, Ms. y/n"

You open the door, sighing as the heels dig into the pebbled road. I'll try.

As he drives away, you can't help but think again what were you really doing here. It's not like you needed the money, so, again, why did you agree? Willingly accepting to help Harry and his friend, people who you could care less, the first even nearing enemy territory. But for some reason, the moment those brown eyes landed on you, it felt like yes was the only correct answer.

"Welcome, Miss. Can I see your invitation?"

You think it's pointless: would you've driven all the way here if you weren't invited?

"Here"

You don't know why but the moment you step in, your eyes search for him, Harry, as if your body moved on instinct. Betraying.

A waiter walks by and you take whatever it's on his tray, downing the liquid with a gulp. Once the small tingling buzz settles into your system, you find that easy practiced smile of yours: cold enough to be polite but not warm enough to be confused for anything more.

"Having fun?"

You spin, dress doing a little reveal of your bare legs, yet he doesn't even look your way, that kind of silent promises and respect faithful men hold onto when they've swore their heart to only one woman.

"I'm trying"

"That's the spirit" he chuckles, lowly. "Is there anything I can do to make your night better?"

You fake a pondering gesture.

"Maybe get you another drink?"

"Thanks, but I want to walk straight when I exit through that door"

"Smart girl" he quips, "but I hope you don't plan on leaving soon"

You take the time to look at him under the chandeliers.

"I have manners"

This man has a kind smile that reaches his eyes, a dark grey but still holding onto a spark for life, not dull at all. His hair matches his gaze, and so does his neatly trimmed beard. His face is aged, probably about the same age as Harry, if you were to take a guess.

"Paul" you recognize. "Paul Lauder"

Lauder offers his hand and a charming smile, like all the men from his circle have been cut from the same cloth: gentleman manners that hide calculating characters. Still, there was something about the man and owner of the house standing before you, that seemed genuine.

"Am I that easy to recognize or has my friend already talked about me?"

A million questions raise through your head. If he was talking about him, how did he know you knew each other? It was a given in your society, yes, but to speak about you both in such friendly terms? Or worse: had Harry spoken of you to his friends?

"Forgive me. I talk nineteen to the dozen"

Your body tenses at just the sound of his voice, and there he is, the man of the hour.

"Harry" Paul calls him, another gentle smile making its way to his face.

"The one and only. Don't tell me you know another one" he jokes.

He still hasn't looked your way, and you don't know why that makes your skin hot.

"You're irreplaceable, my friend"

Now you see why he insisted on helping him. Paul's a true friend: a rare gem, especially in New York's elite.

"This is y/n" Harry introduces you, "David's daughter"

Its only then that Harry looks at you. A fast up and down, barely noticeable, but you were an observer, always. Part of your work and charm, just what made you perceptive and deadly enough. His eyes linger on the open skin, in the cut of your leg, and then move to your face, gaze holding. Daring, almost. And the he chuckles. Harry fucking chuckles, the sound low and grave. A fuzz settles in your cheeks and you choose to blame the alcohol rush.

You desperately wish to know what Harry's thinking.

"Ah. So this is she" a knowing smirk makes its way into his mouth. Then, his eyes widen. "Wait, David? Oh, haven't you grown? Into an extraordinarily beautiful woman, nonetheless. You sure look like your mother"

The compliment feels paternal at best, but a knife slowly twists into your ribs at the last sentence. None of the men seem to catch this.

"She has" and Harry takes your hand from seemingly nowhere, body closer than you anticipated. Grabs your hand and kisses it like he means it. The other man observes it all in silence. "The belle of the ball"

"Except this is my birthday, not a dance" Paul banters, nudging the billionaire gently on his side, as if you hadn't gone completely at loss for words. You hated to be unprepared, yet Harry always seemed to turn you into a house of cards, his wind sweeping you off your feet.

"There's music" Castillo is quick to reply. "That has to count for"

Paul lets out an easy laugh. Then, looks over his shoulder, and you don't miss the way his eyes light up, unaware adoring smile on his face, the rest of the world reduced to a meaningless blur.

"It's my turn, I suppose" you don't understand what he means. "I want to introduce you to my wife"

You see Harry's body tense and smile falter by centimeters, barely noticeable.

So this is it. This is the part where you meet her. Your newest job.

Your eyes follow Paul's direction, only to be knocked breathless.

Her beauty is obvious, insulting even, making you uncomfortable in your own skin. It's in the way she carries herself, smiles all white, her teeth perfectly lined; blinding. Dress ivory and clean, making your red one feel vulgar in comparison.

You wait for the cold to hit you, but when Paul slides a hand across her back, resting behind not to claim nor brag, but to belong and feel her warmth, she smiles, not for the room, but to the man who looks at her like she makes life worth living.

You're confused.

"This is Grace" he introduces her, proud.

The woman shakes your hand. Even her gestures seem the perfect mixture of delicate and proud. You tell her your name and suddenly, she's smiling again.

"Pleased to finally meet you. Harry has talked so much about you"

His stare burns from your side. So he has indeed talked about you before. You decide not to dwelve too much on how that makes you feel.

"Alright, that's enough" he laughs, clipped. A hand slides across your back, and it feels deliberate.

An instrumental cover of an old 90s ballad you can't quite place begins to play.

"This is my favorite" Grace beams, green eyes sparkling with joy.

"I know. That's why I asked it to be played"

She swats his chest playfully while yours aches with a silent press. Grace links her arm with Paul and gives you a goodbye smile.

"I'll leave you two alone. I have an important dance to attend"

Before going, Paul gives Harry one last look, one you can't decipher. Your breath feels oddly constricted.

"Just us again. Is this perhaps fate telling us something?"

You scoff.

"That I should go home"

"Is that so? Didn't take you for a downer" Harry laughs.

"I'm not" you protest like a child, embarrased.

He's enjoying this, by the way he smirks. "I don't believe you"

"I don't care" but you keep looking on his direction.

"Fine. How about this? Give me a dance and I'll believe you"

You face him, annoyed.

"Do you ever stop doing business?"

He just offers his hand.

"Quick. Offer's expiring and everyone's staring"

Harry's right, though. You hate their whispers and looks, so, be it the pressure or way your heart beats when his fingers slip between your own, you concede.

"Just one. You're lucky I don't like unwarranted attention"

He guides you to the center.

"You better get used to it. You're a natural"

The soft strings and notes of a saxophone waft through the air. Grace and Paul laugh somewhere to your side.

"But I hardly know this beauty by my side"

You might break your neck with how fast you raise your view, stuck before on the sway of your feet.

"Huh?"

"Lady in red?"

His hand softly caresses the silk of your dress, like a wind breeze.

"Me?" you ask, voice caught in your throat.

Harry laughs. With or at you.

"No, the song"

That's why it was vaguely familiar.

He quirks an eyebrow. "Don't you know Chris de Burgh?"

"All I know is my feet are killing me"

"So dramatic" yet his voice is soft. As the cello hidden behind drums and bass. Too soft. Stable as the Roland TR-808 drum machine for the drum pattern. Tension hanging like the synthesizer, acknowledged but not spoken of.

Harry had this effect on you. He just brought this side of you, a more unguarded side no one saw or dared to search for. Not even Rachel, who you spoke to. You talked to Harry. Because he looked past your walls. He tried. Took the time to pluck brick by brick. Like it mattered. You weren't New York's most sought-after divorce lawyer nor David Beaumont's daughter, just a girl who tried too much and is tired of doing so, and had finally been seen: the eyebags and the pleading eyes. The yearn for something she would never say outloud, between pride and the refusal to name something she can't even name.

"We always end up dancing" you comment, hand firmly holding his. Because it has become too much, and you'd rather go back to the light swimming than the drowning.

"We always end up doing the same things"

You think about the first time you met him. Not the very first, but the one you saw Harry Castillo for the first time.

It was at your father's fourth wedding, with a woman you can't seem to remember by face nor name.

"I hate weddings" you had said, not expecting to be heard but to be understood; the entlitement of your silver spoon was inherit. You felt as if you were wearing a costume of some sorts: a polished aspect that hid that bitter taste of seeing your father's failure and betrayal all over again, front row. You saw by the corner of your sharp eyes the way Harry tensed, unsure if he should even acknowledge you. So you sat in silence for the rest of the ceremony, answer hanging in the air, and when your father swore an expiring love again, you walked out, not before sparing one last glance his way.

He did too.

It made you falter a bit, unsure, almost tripping on the bench. For a moment, it seemed like he could see what you hid: the light tremble in your hands, the unopened invitations yet showing up at the last minute because you had no one else in this life, and how, despite your cruel jokes and harsh words, your eyes turned glassy when you allowed yourself to look at the bride as a kid looks at the shiniest toy behind the display, forbidden to be touched. For a moment, Harry Castillo saw the little girl who wore the heavy crown of a last name, words and grown face like an armour.

"I hate you"

Or maybe you fear him and the way he picks the scabs of your best hidden wounds, searching for the meaning of you past the shells of healed by force scrapes.

He closes his eyes, feigning hurt. "And here I thought we've gotten past base one"

"I hate you" this time sharper. You wish you could mean every ounce of venom laced within.

"You don't mean that" softly, like his gentle tug on your dress. Like the calm of your storms.

No answer, but the tiniest phantom of a smile graces your lips.

"Tell me about Grace"

Harry's grip tightens on your hands. "What about her?"

"I don't think she's the villain you're trying to make her be"

He narrows his eyes. "Give it a few days. She's just a pretty face"

"You say it like that's all there is"

"No" he's quick to answer. Then pauses, probably pondering. "But it certainly helps"

He looks at your lips. Under the lights, it's hard to distinguish if the red across your face is of anger or just a blush.

"Harry-" you beg without knowing why. A greater woman wouldn't.

"What?" like he's dealing with a naive kid.

"Don't lie to me" you seethe.

Not you. Everyone but you.

The song keeps playing in the distance, yet all you can hear is the ringing of your ears.

"I'm not"

It's pathetic to care this much about someone you claim to despise, finding hurt in a rift across the laces of trust in such strange interwoven bond. A phantom thread.

"Where are you going?"

Your feet develop a mind of it's own. You don't spare him a glance, breathing suddenly a difficult task.

"Outside"

The cool evening breeze hits you. So does the smell of water, the soft sounds of a fountain in the background.

"At least this time it's a garden"

You and balconies. Another of your rules broken. By Harry, again.

"What are you doing?"

You admire his persistance. With shaky fingers, you reach for one of your dress' pockets.

"Thinking"

"It's such a nice evening to be doing that" as if nothing happened.

You roll your eyes, pulling out the lighter with your mother's initials.

"I'm trying to think who is lying to me"

His face falls.

"Y/n" as a warning, maybe a plea. "The answer is obvious. You don't know her, but you know me"

"I don't" you cut, harsh. "As you don't know me either"

You keep saying the same words, as if they were a shield of some sorts, to protect you from falling under his spell.

Harry Castillo scoffs.

"I'm trying, trust me. But you never make it easy" then, his charming smile is back on, slipping on it like a costume of some sorts. Tailored suit: just for him. "Lucky for you, I'm not a quitter"

"Do you have a cigarette?"

His face betrays surprise. Still, he pulls a Marlboro Gold and hands it like a peace offering.

"You said you quit"

The light flickers, smell of nicotine mixed with that of the flowers of the night garden.

You hold his gaze. "I'm not a quitter"

Harry pulls one of his own too. Takes a long drag, tired, before asking.

"Do you want the truth?"

You face him, expression unreadable. A weak smoke cloud billows over your eyes, masking their shine.

"I don't care"

"Don't lie to me" he repeats your words, but instead of the severity of your own, his are laced with benignity.

"I don't care"

"I didn't want to be alone"

You take another drag, silent, wishing for louder words and not spaces of silence that leave your mind restless.

"Harry Castillo, who could buy all of Manhattan, can't find a simple escort?"

He scoffs, seemingly offended. "That's not what I meant"

But not for the accusation at his expense, rather at your lack of (or lack of wanting to) understand.

"Too low for you, I get it. Where all your model friends busy?"

"One, they're not my friends. I can count those with my fingers" he lifts six. "Besides, I doubt twenty something year olds would be friends with a forty-seven year old finance guy"

You take a drag. "What does that make us then, Harry?"

Harry exhales. "We aren't friends"

Your lips curve up. "And two?"

It's his turn to smile.

"I doubt they would choose to accompany me to an old people dinner instead of a night clubbing with their age appropriate friends" he casts you a look, deliberate. "What would you do?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

His smile widens.

"Tricked, but you are"

You smash the half burnt cigarette against a stone statue next to you.

"Grace isn't the problem"

"Sweet Grace may be eleven years younger, and we know what that means in our world, but God, doesn't that woman love Paul?"

You chuckle, lowly.

"Jealous?" you find yourself teasing him.

He casts you a quick look. "Of course I am"

Even if his tone is light and playful, there is a quiet longing laced within. You gulp harshly.

"Why me?"

"Because you're you"

Your heart shouldn't beat this fast. You chuckle, weakly.

"Elaborate"

"Of course you have to know everything, don't you? You can't help but want to understand it all"

You laugh. "Is that so bad?"

"It's very... you"

"Got it. I'm the bad I was asking about"

For the first time, you both join in laughter. It's so easy feeling this comfortable with Harry, you think. Like it's meant to be. All pretenses left behind for a moment of too loud unguarded laughs.

When the laughter dies, he takes one last drag before putting his cigarette out.

"It's because you're the only one who could play along and not make more out of it"

You're not sure you want to face him. Still, you do, offering a tight lipped smile his way.

"Because I'm smart"

"Of course, you're a Beaumont"

A beat.

"You could've told me"

He shots a look your way, eyebrow arched.

"Would've you accepted if I told you the truth?"

You ponder for a moment before answering.

"No"

"Be honest"

"No, but I would've told you to fuck yourself"

Harry smiles. "That's better"

You join him. "I could send a lawsuit your way for lying"

"I doubt that, divorce lawyer"

You let out a dramatic gasp.

"I went to law school. I know this things"

"I'd like to see you try"

"Are you challenging me, Mr. Castillo?" you dare, mischievous.

"Please, don't call me that. You make me feel old"

"That you are"

"You're impossible" he sighs. "Older, then"

The wind blows your hair a little wild. It gets on your face.

"We should go inside" you say.

"Yeah. We should"

You feel a hot rush through your face when his fingers remove the loose strands, touch delicate. His gentle ministrations find a way inside your tense heart, nesting inside in a pulsating soft ache.

He offers his hand. "Dance with me. As an apology"

"That sounds like another favor"

"Yeah. So we get more prying and envious glances thrown our way"

"I feel I'm getting the short end of the stick here"

Harry laughs. "I'm the old man with a pretty lady on my arm"

"The lady in red" and the color matches your cheeks and dress.

"Is dancing with me"

You take his arm. "Lyric?"

"Truth as well"

When you get back inside, Paul's eyes find you soon enough. You try not to think too much about the meaning behind his smile.

"So..."

"So?"

You take his hands first, diving in. They're warm, holding yours back without second thoughts.

"Let's dance"

And you do, trying not to feel special for being the one Harry Castillo chose.

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @a7estrellas / 🏷: @io12n @dowscal @oscar-isaac @joelscowgirl @jxvipike @klarkapascal @lostinmyownmaze @folklore-barnes @alinacecee @sukitruqui @youusunshineyoutemptress @hermionelove @noisynightmarepoetry @ann-gell @suzysface @joelmillerpascal @ennvsco @not-the-teen-witch (comment if u wanna be added!)

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writingsfromhome · 5 months ago

Text

That’s so True II

A/N: pure angst; egos are still up, feelings are still confused, guards are up and down and even though it seems like I hate them as the writer I do root for them but navigating one-sided vulnerability is a rideee. Mentions of alcohol and drugs—thanks for reading xx

Word Count: 18k+

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

———————————————————

I made it out alive but I think I lost it.

When Harry approached me after school when I was working on yearbook, I was surprised. He came just as himself and even though he tried to act like a dick, that personality was chucked out as soon as I told him I wasn’t putting up with it.

And he listened. And he looked surprised, but most surprising for me was when he apologized back. It obviously surprised him too because that’s also when his mask came back down; I saw it happening—backtracking so he could put a leash on his vulnerability.

There was no denying though as he was apologizing, the look in his eyes and the way his gaze lingered on my face…I knew he was holding back. That night and our time together left just as much of an imprint on him than it did me.

The thing is I wanted to punish him, make him hurt, because how dare he do that to me. If he wanted to deny what really happened between us and move on, continue being the jock everyone knew him to be, I’d let it sting.

I know he expected me to be upset, maybe even argue. But as soon as I realized what he was doing I put my own mask on; I was good at it these days. And there was a satisfaction with how shocked he looked as he walked out without the upper hand.

That’s his price, I had thought.

But now here I was on the other side of my Harry Experience and my heart still kicked a little extra when I caught sight of him. When I pass him in the halls, in the lunchroom, in the parking lot, and I could feel his eyes on me.

I could just get a boyfriend if it was a physical need. But it wasn’t that simple.

Sometimes before I fall asleep I think of that night, of the pain he felt on my behalf. And it hits deeper.

Past:

Harry had caught up to me as I was leaving the school building today. He had asked if I was busy tonight and my heart had sputtered like a dying car because we had been hooking up for a couple weeks and every time we did I expected it to be the last time yet he always found ways to be at the same place I was or catch me wherever I was.

He had been a distraction for me from everything at home and I never expected us to have longevity.

He told me he would pick me up around 7 for a surprise. I’d gone home in a cloud of rainbows and butterflies but home itself was an antidote to daydreaming.

Mum was home early from work so I head to my bedroom. I didn’t care for forced conversation. All she wanted to talk about these days was my future.

By the time I come down the sun is starting to set and I can hear her on the phone with Nan. She’s telling Nan she doesn’t know if she can help her clean out the house and that my dad didn’t want anything to do with it.

Nan was actually my paternal grandma and her and Grandpa had raised me while my dad lived in a new city every few months for work and mum followed. They’d be sure to be in town for Christmas most years and during off-seasons but when I thought of the people who raised me it wasn’t mum and dad.

Dad always had a complicated relationship with his own father so even though they happily took me in and it looked okay from the outside, every family reunion or dinner was tense and passive.

When grandpa passed a few weeks ago it was Nan and I who held each other up. Mum had tried to be there but she never knew what to say to me. Dad had gotten stony and silent. So now I just walked the few streets over to visit Nan every time I missed him too much.

“What’s going on?” I whisper to mum as she continues on the phone. Were they cleaning grandpa’s stuff out already? It hadn’t been long.

Suddenly I start to worry about all of his valuables, everything he held dear all in the bin. Of Nan trying to sort it all by herself and being overwhelmed—I could help.

Mum waves me off, “Well we’ll see. We can always hire someone. I’m sure Phil will pay for it.”

“I called asking for help with this not to have money I don’t need thrown my way.” Her voice is distant on the receiver but mum’s volume is always so loud I can make it out. Nan only ever took dad’s money if it had to do with me. “I need to do this myself not hire somebody. I-this is making me upset. I’m hanging up now.”

She hangs up without a goodbye and mum rolls her eyes.

“Somehow I’m always between the two of them.”

I watch her move back to her cutting board and stare as she chops. If there was any humour here I would laugh but it always got to me when she’d say things like that. Because it was always me between the two—my actual family and my family that raised me. My loyalty to my grandparents for all the love and time they raised me with and my loyalty to my parents because…well, they were my parents.

“What did she want?” I ask eventually.

“Someone to help her pack up the house. And she’s asking us to hold some of her things as storage I mean-“ she throws her hands up.

“Why?” Nan had plenty of space at home, why did she need ours?

“Well whoever rents that place probably doesn’t want all her rubbish everywhere.”

Rents.

“Who’s renting? What do you mean?”

Mum looks up sharply and sighs when she sees my face. “Oh dear. Did Nan or your dad not tell you yet?”

“Tell me what!?” I demand, my heart racing and my knees feeling like they were made of straw.

“Sit down-“ she points to a stool. I do so grudgingly. “Your Nan…she’s going to be moving-“

“No. She can’t be she would have said-“

“Well she just made the final decision the other day-“

I’m snatching my jacket and racing out the front door, down the street, pumping my arms until I’m in front of the familiar door. The place that my memories went to when I thought of home.

My breath is having a hard time coming out and my hands shake so I knock until Nan opens the door. One look at me and the sadness pools in her eyes.

“Oh my love I’m sorry.”

“No Nan,” I burst into tears. “Tell me it’s not true! Mum’s lying!”

“C’mon,” she mumbles as she urges me into the house. My feet shuffle to the cozy wooden kitchen and I collapse in the closest chair because her non-answer was already an answer. I knew it in my bones.

“Why?” I ask when I see her again.

She sits beside me, her eyes full of tears. “I didn’t want you finding out like this. I-I’m making your favourite, we were going to have dinner and I was going to-“

Her breath catches and suddenly I feel awful for making her feel bad.

“Nan,” I hold her hand and she clasps it with her other.

“I’m sorry my love. It’s…this house is filled with his ghost. I don’t know how to…”

I find I’m crying too. But what about me, I want to ask. But even I know that’s selfish.

“Before he…when he was in hospital he made a plan for me. He talked to my sister—you’ve met her a few times I think. She lives alone, been a widow for…6 years now? He made all these plans so I can live with her. And she’s made it happen. For as long as I need, she tells me.”

“So you’re just-“ I use my other hand to wipe my tears. “So you’re just going to pick up your life and move? So far away? I-“

What about me?

“I can’t live here-“

“Move in with us!” I urge. Why didn’t grandpa make plans for her to move a few streets over. Why did he do this.

“YN, my dear…” she pats my hand. I know she couldn’t. I knew.

“I’ll never see you again?” I cry.

“Don’t be silly,” she stands and tugs me to her. I wrap my arms around her aging torso, my head on her chest, and it’s so overwhelmingly home that I begin to cry. And with the patience she’s had her whole life she rubs my back and soothes me with promises.

“You’re moving for uni this year—everything’s going to be different. And Phil’s already bought tickets for you to come visit me in the summer. We’ll always be in each other’s lives.”

But not physically. And suddenly I’m angry—what was dad’s issue that he couldn’t stand his parents. That his own mother couldn’t move in with us at a time like this. Why would Nan do this to me.

I let go of Nan and stand up.

“Where are you going?” She calls out as I head for the door. “YN where-“

“I have to go.” I sniffle.

“But I’m making dinner-“

“I have plans.” I say and it hurts just to say it and hurts more to see her face fall.

“Oh…well maybe tomorrow. Come by tomorrow and we can talk okay?”

I shrug and this time I don’t look at her face; a coward who couldn’t see what it does to her. “Maybe.”

“I love you,” she says as I near the door. “No matter what.”

I mumble something in response and leave. But I don’t want to go home. Luckily my phone pings then. Harry.

Outside yours, are you ready?

Crap. I’d forgotten.

At my Nan’s few streets away gimme 2 mins

I feel like my feet are made of steel as I walk over. I try to wipe my face and take deep breaths, anything to prevent him from seeing the mess tonight has made me.

“Aren’t you cold?” Is the first thing he asks me when I knock on his passenger door.

I forgot I was only wearing a jumper.

“A bit. M I must have forgotten my coat at Nan’s.” I sit inside where it is considerably warmer.

“You didn’t have to rush,” he watches me tuck myself in. “I texted you that.”

“Oh,” I check my phone. He had said that, I just missed it. “That’s alright. Where to?”

His eyes light up, now distracted from what he was just worried about. “You’ll have to see.”

“Patience is not my virtue,” I warn him and that earns a grin. His whole face was quite animated when he smiled like that and my stomach flips. Tonight still heavy on my mind, could be eclipsed by a smile like that. A smile for me.

He turns off my street and even though I was curious I’m not watching where we’re going. Instead I’m watching him.

I really was surprised he kept turning up. That he hadn’t grown tired of me.

That first night I approached him in desperate need of a distraction—of a boy and some booze, I could tell he was surprised but he’d risen to the occasion and made himself a perfect distraction.

And then a few nights later we’d made out in his car after school in the parking lot. We did that a few times actually. And the weekend after he’d been at a party I was at and we’d found an empty room. He was obviously more experienced and it made it both new and fun.

He catches me watching him and responds by sliding his hand over my thigh. I was wearing tights but the warmth of his delicious hands go straight through the fabric. His thumb strokes absentmindedly as he drives and I feel like more than a hook-up and he feels like more than a distraction but I discard the thoughts from my mind.

I didn’t want to make things messy. Messier than what my life already was.

“So you’re really giving me no clues?” I ask.

“Nope.”

“I’m surprised you’ve actually planned something. I thought you wouldn’t be a planner.”

He squeezes my thigh and laughs. “I like it when people think they figured me out and then they’re surprised.”

“Yeah?” I ask. I wondered if that happened often with him being the stereotype of a player.

“Yeah. It’s fun. Seeing people surprised. Like when our biology teacher last year congratulated me for getting the highest grade in one of the exams—I’d studied for a week straight so I earned that shit, but the looks on everyone’s faces was crazy.”

I laugh. It’s cute hearing him explain this. Ironically it was also surprising.

“Okay look,” he turns into a lot and I suddenly know where we were. But I’m confused.

“A beach?” I ask. “Harry you know it’s still February and it’s cold as bollocks.”

That makes him laugh. “Yeah? But I’ve got blankets and some wine I stole from my parents and we can keep each other warm.”

He brushes my cheek with his thumb as he says so. It’s gentle and inviting—I never thought someone like him would have these sides to him. I assumed wrongfully that players like him just seduce but Harry’s seducing had a finer art.

Suddenly I remember, “I forgot my coat.”

“Yeah you can wear mine!”

“No then you’ll be cold.”

He tried to reassure me it would be fine but in that moment all the feelings that had just been distracted come forth. If I had just gotten my coat I wouldn’t have to borrow his. Now all this Harry planned for us would go to shit.

“Here,” he starts stripping his coat off when I don’t respond and drapes it around me. “I’ve got a hoodie on and a couple blankets back there it can work.”

“I…” the coat is big and warm, trapped with the smell of him and it makes me lose my train of thought for a moment. I want to grow smaller and just live in this coat and forget all my problems like my thoughts.

“Let’s just see how bad it is out there.” He says with his easygoing smile.

“Okay,” I didn’t want to be a spoil sport. “Let’s see if you brought me out here to freeze to death or not.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” he says as we exit the car. “We’re going to keep each other warm.”

“Harry this is quite romantic,” I tease as he walks around to get to me. “Honestly didn’t know you had this side to you.”

He leans me into the car, his cold hands curling around my neck. “Stop underestimating me YN. Plus I could say the same about you.”

Before I can ask what he means he leans down to kiss me with his soft lips and stubbly chin. It tickles and I pull away.

When I rub my hand over it he laughs, a low and dangerous thing that makes my stomach churn like the waves. “Sorry. I didn’t get time…”

“It just tickles.” I smile. Then remember, “What did you mean just now? About me?”

He ignores me again, ducking into the backseat for a literal basket. I wonder how many girls had seen the same basket before, been on this very same date. It wasn’t my right to feel this grip of possessiveness and I try to shake it off.

“C’mon,” he holds his hand out and when I take it he shoves both into the pocket of his hoodie. He was cold.

“Are you sure-“

“When I-“

We both stop, laugh.

“You first,” I say.

“Uh, I was just saying I’ve known you for years and you’re always the smart no-nonsense one. Never thought you’d spare me a second glance unless it was to judge me-“

“Hey I’m not judgy“

“You’ve never judged me?” He raises a brow.

“Well maybe once or twice. Usually because you were being very obnoxious-“

“Exactly,” he laughs. “I didn’t expect you to come up to me and be interested.”

“Well…” I try to come up with something to say but that wave of emotions threatens to overtake me again. Push, push it away.

“Well?”

We pause some feet away from the waves. At this point even I’m starting to feel a chill and I worry Harry’s freezing.

“Well I was intrigued.”

“Intrigued,” he repeats with humour. “Wanted to know what the fuss was about?”

“I wanted to know,” I turn to him and extract my hand from his so I can wrap them behind him. “If the rumours were true. And I can say they made you out to be more of a fuckboy than you are.”

“What?” His body stiffens slightly.

“Yeah you’re kinda sweet.”

He shakes his head, “YN I thought you were smart!”

“What!” I laugh. “I can’t help but point out what I see-“

“Ah but,” he lays a finger on my lips to shush me and they’re frozen. I try to say something about how cold he must be but he stops me. “Ah ah. No. What you observe is an act YN. I thought you would see I’m just trying to get into your-“

“But,” I shush him this time by putting my finger to his lips and an excuse to draw closer to him to lend my warmth.

“No I-“

“Ah ah!” I pinch his lips closed with my hand accidentally giving him duck lips and it takes him by surprise; he jerks back and neatly topples over. Which of course gets me laughing.

“Jesus YN!” He laughs on the floor.

“Why did you fall over!” I try to pull him up but he yanks me down as I expected. “Shit it’s chilly. Aren’t you cold?!”

“Not anymore,” he wraps a hand around my waist and I can’t deny laying on top of him like this makes me forget the cold.

“See,” I tsk. “I see right through you.”

That sobers his smile and mine fades with it. Did I say something wrong.

“It really is chilly though,” I quickly change the subject. It’s not graceful but I manage to stand up on my own and so does Harry, a shiver going through him. “See!”

“No that’s just,” he wraps his arms around himself. “Being around you.”

I groan. “Cheesy. I’m sorry here-“ I try to take the jacket off to hand him but he refuses, picking up the basket that he’d dropped to the ground.

“Keep it on. Let’s have a car picnic.”

“Yes!” The guilt lessens a bit. “Okay! Let’s do that.”

He smiles at me and extends a hand, I grip it and try to heat it up by shoving it up his larger sleeves.

“That works,” he laughs.

He opens the backseat so I slide in without a second thought. When it’s a bit cramped he moves the driver and passenger seats forward and it gives us a comfortable amount of space.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize again. “I wish I brought my jacket this really was all very nice-“

“Stop,” he says. He begins pulling out wine and perfectly wrapped sandwiches. It’s adorable but I say nothing lest it bruise his masculinity again. “It was lame I knew how cold it was.”

“Are we drinking from the bottle?” I point out.

“Ah damn,” he swears. “I forgot glasses.”

“That’s alright!” I take it from his hand and begin opening it. “Free wine I’ll take it! My parents are really anal so I could never steal liquor and have them not notice.”

“So that’s where you get it from,” he teases.

“Get what?!”

“The,” he waves his hand around me. I take a swig now that I’ve gotten it open and raise my brows. “Y’know! You’re very particular. I imagine you’d be like that as a parent.”

My heart does a weird stuttering thing hearing his opinion of me as a parent.

“Nevermind,” he takes my silence as offence and accepts the bottle. He makes a face once he takes a swig. “This is disgusting. I can’t drink this.”

“Not more disgusting than that beer you drank at last weekend’s party.”

“It was the best thing there.”

“It was the only thing,” I say. “But you should be careful since you’re driving. Wine gets you drunk a lot faster.”

“See,” he hands the bottle back to me. “This sort of thing.”

“Being responsible?”

I feel a small leak of self-consciousness drip in. And with it the leak expands with other emotions I’d shoved down tonight. I blink it back with another swig—the plan would be to get drunk and forget the evening happened.

“Kinda. Like just being sharp.”

It soothes a little. Sharp was better than being called responsible at age 17. Jeez.

I take another swig before we split sandwiches and talk about school. We talk music and movies, about graduation. I try not to look surprised at his grad plans while he’a not surprised at all by mine.

But talking about it all plus the wine, it sinks me deeper into my feelings. How the home I would leave would be something I could never come back to. Nan would never be a few streets away ever again.

“Is it just me or is it getting cold in here now too?” He asks. By now I’d given him his jacket back and I was wrapped in a blanket with half a bottle of wine in me. But even that didn’t hold the cold at bay.

“Yeah, I was trying to ignore it.”

“Soo you can stay here with me?”

“I-“ I go to flirt back. But staying here meant I wouldn’t have to go back home and remembering home reminds me of the reality of my life.

“YN?” He asks with a scrunch to his brows.

“Hm?” I don’t look at him. “Sorry. Yeah?”

“Uh I was just saying…” he deposits the half empty bottle that I’d basically drunk alone into the front console. This whole time we’d gotten closer to the other, his hand resting on my thigh as we talked. But now with nothing between us he inches to close the gap. “We could keep each other warm.”

He tucks my hair behind my ear and I smile into his face. It’s an open book telling his desires for tonight. I cup his cheek, he was sweet.

He kisses me and the gnawing feelings in my chest snaps. In seconds I’m climbing over him, straddling his lap as he responds, his fingers dig into my thighs and the sounds coming from his throat only urges me to get closer.

“Woah,” he chuckles when we break for air. And a part of me flushes but I’m too drunk to care.

I lean in again, my lips on his neck. His breath hitches and I smile against his skin.

His hands travel everywhere. My thighs, hips, and stomach. They slide up the front of my shirt and I gasp at the cold.

“We really need to warm those up,” I whisper.

He looks like he wants to make a joke but I press our lips together before he can. His fingers continue inching up, brushing under the band of my bra. I want him to go faster, I want him to lay me bare and make me forget. Get this fucking noise out of my head and these feelings out of my body.

I can tell he’s turned on but he’s not moving fast enough for me. I roll my hips into him and just like I needed him to he reacts, a short gasp and his eyes shut as he swears.

I do it again and he leans forward, pulling the neckline of my sweater over my head. His lips find the crook of my neck and shoulder, doing the thing that always unravels me.

He worships whatever part of me his lips can reach with one hand firmly on my neck keeping me close.

“You’re insane,” he mumbles against me. “Sometimes I-“

He shakes himself out of his monologue because his hands are trying to unbuckle his jeans. And in the split moment we’re apart the chill in the car settles against my bare shoulders and it’s like reality settles with it. Like a blanket I kept trying to shed.

Suddenly I’m overwhelmed. When he pulls me back to him to lay me down I push against his shoulders, dismounting.

“YN?” I don’t look at him but I know he’s got his brows scrunched together in confusion. I myself was confused. Claustrophobic and confused.

The only option is to rush outside trying to escape the feeling. It was fucking crazy—me in a bra and jeans but I have to get away from him before he sees me unravel. Before everything I’ve been pushing down surfaces.

“YN!” He shouts as I leave his car. Then a third time. I can hear the panic creep into his voice.

My head swims, the world spins around me. I want to lay here and let the cold creep in, let the waves lap over me until they’ve drowned me. Or maybe the waves inside of me make me feel like I’m drowning.

The first sob breaks through. Oh god, what was I doing.

I press my hands into my face and cry with a force so strong it feels like my chest has cracked in half. I cry for my Nan leaving, for grandpa and everything he suffered, for those he left behind, for my father and the relationship he’s never kept. I cry for me. I want to give it all to the water but it keeps coming out of me.

“Fucking hell YN!” Harry’s finally caught up to me. “What-what’s going on? Are you-“

As soon as his hand touches my shoulder I crash into his chest, maybe too hard, but he holds me up as he stays upright. And suddenly I’m cold as shit and I can’t stop shivering and crying and I feel fucking ridiculous.

Way to go, couldn’t have had a sexier moment.

He doesn’t say a word but wraps the jacket he brought with him around my shoulders. It’s heavy and smells like him, and surrounded in it again my system seems to slow down.

“I’m sorry,” I say into his chest.

“No I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out-“

“Wasn’t you.” I say but I can’t even look up at him. This was way too embarrassing. I know I looked a mess.

“Let’s just get back into the…”

I follow him. He tucks me back into the backseat and crawls in behind me.

“Talk to me,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “Did I do something?”

“No.” I wipe my face. He somehow finds a kleenex and hands it to me. I wipe myself down before speaking again but he’s patient. “Sorry. I just have a lot going on at home and it all just…”

When I don’t finish he shifts closer. I look up at him and I’m surprised at what I see. His mouth is turned down and there’s a crease between his brows, but his eyes watch me like I was a fragile puzzle he wanted to figure out. I was expecting him to look at me with fear or disgust but there’s none of it.

Oh god, it hits me in the wrong place. I pitch forward and he catches me against his chest as I cry some more. Somehow there were always more tears.

He rubs my back. “Hey talk to me, I know we’re not…you can talk to me.”

I shake my head. “It-it’s too much. I can’t talk about it.”

“Why not?”

I sigh, lean back, try to discreetly wipe my nose but there’s nothing discreet in this intimate space Harry’s created. More intimate than when we were making out. His eyes are burning into me waiting for me to give him the key to help him unlock all of this.

But how do I tell him I didn’t have the key myself. That I was just sad and I didn’t know what to do with all of it.

“My family…there’s just a lot going on. My Nan’s moving away and just…a lot of changes. I can’t talk about it-“

“Then how do I make you feel better?”

I’ve got to stop being so surprised but I genuinely never thought those kinds of words would ever come out of Harry’s mouth. We were hooking up and yet he wanted to help me—he wanted me to talk.

“You can’t.”

“I believe I can,” he insists.

“I’m just…you don’t have to.”

“I know,” he lifts my chin and wipes the tears away. “Just tell me what you need. I’m here.”

“I just need…” I look at him. Study the soft curls sitting atop the angular cheeks and the steady curious eyes. His wonderful face on his intoxicating throat on his beautiful body. “You.”

He blinks. “Really?”

“Please?” I reach for him with tears in my eyes but he’s already there. This time he lays me down gently and even though it’s an awkward fit by the time he’s peeling layer after layer off of us the place doesn’t matter. Just that he’s here, he sees me hurting, and he’s doing whatever this was to help me feel better.

I close my eyes and make myself be present in my body, feel his taut arms and his shoulders, the softness of his lips and how it feels when he moves against me. When he caresses me and holds me like a flame against a draft, careful but cherishing.

And later, we maneuver ourselves so that we lay together. My body is mostly draped over his and the blanket he brought lays over both of us. And normally I would think of how many other girls this blanket has seen but I feel too serene. I feel tucked in and protected in his arms.

“You’re amazing,” he whispers. He kisses the top of my head. “And you never back down from a challenge. I’ve seen you be the smartest at our school, work your arse off every year. You’re gonna have such an amazing life after you head off to uni. You’re hurting right now but life will change for you.”

His words take mine away. I don’t know who this sensitive and sweet boy is who’s holding me together. As a few tears escape my eyes and down my cheeks he kisses them away.

“Salty,” he laughs.

“Probably good for all the sweetness right here,” I tap at his chest. He swallows and the look in his eyes tell me a story that scares me.

“My parents must have done something right—this is just being decent YN.”

“Mmm,” I kiss him. “You tell yourself that.”

“Is that a smile?” He asks. And it is, I’m smiling at him. “It’s a smile! Look at that. My car won’t even need the headlights on the drive home.”

“Stop,” I cover my mouth.

“No you stop,” he tugs my hand away and kisses my smile which ends in a clash of teeth but I don’t care.

And then suddenly I do. Because I feel something. Something endless and scary and exhilarating; the feeling of falling.

Don’t do this, I urge my heart. He’s not the kind of guy you fall for. That was the first rule in hooking up with him. This was just fun.

But I can’t deny this stopped being fun the moment he led me back to the car. The moment he tried to fix me.

“Maybe we should get home,” I say casually. “I sort of left everyone high and dry. I don’t want them to worry where I’m at.”

“Oh yeah I-shit! It’s already 10?”

“What!?” I look at his watch. I was surprised my parents hadn’t called wondering where I was. I’d missed dinner. Both dinners.

“Okay wait here.” He pulls on his clothes and leaves me some privacy as he begins adjusting the seats upfront from outside. The cold air gives me goosebumps but in that moment the only thing that was scaring me was this smile that wouldn’t leave my face and the inevitable heartbreak of falling for Harry.

But it felt so real. He felt so real.

But he’s not. He’s not even your boyfriend. He just felt bad and he was decent enough not to drive you straight home.

Suddenly my heart and my head clash and despite his reassuring hand on my thigh and his lingering kiss goodnight I walk to my door with a whole new problem on my plate. A problem that scares me more than I realized.

Present:

I guess Harry’s capacity for kindness also equalled in his cruelness because he had made sure his actions hurt me in the last few weeks. Until I took it into my own hands.

I can’t help but think though, whether either of us even won?

“Well have you thought how that arrangement’s gonna go?” Rhia asks.

Rhia was my bestest friend and we’d known each other since we were kids. She was there at my highest highs and lowest lows and today we sit at lunch and discuss uni. Now that her acceptance letter’s come in for her dream uni, for the first time in our lives we’d be so far apart it wouldn’t be a bike ride over. It would be a couple trains at least.

“Obviously we see each other during the holidays,” I count off on my hand. “And then we have to make summer plans-“

“Who’s making summer plans.” Our other friend Juni joins us. “I miss summer. I miss spring. I miss the sun.”

“It’s right around the corner.” I reassure her. It had been a particularly gloomy winter—especially for me.

“Well I’m mad about it now. Look, I even dressed in florals to feel something.”

“Florals? For spring?” Rhi and I say in unison. By the time we finish the quote from one of our favourite movies Juni’s joined in.

“Woah,” someone calls from the table beside us. “Are you lot auditioning for something?”

My friends roll their eyes. I look amused but the fact that it’s Harry asking trying to be friendly makes my stomach curdle.

“Jeez babe you’re actually gonna put a curse on him if you keep staring like that.” Juni lays a hand on me. “I thought things were civil.”

“They are,” I huff. “We had a civil talk. Nobody’s mad at each other.”

“Lie,” Juni says and I can feel her make eyes at Rhia.

“Shut up I’m not mad. I’m just…I dunno. Confused. Annoyed at myself?”

“I thought you set him straight. Played the player,” Juni whispers. Rhia kisses her teeth. “Sorry!”

“I did. It felt good. And now it doesn’t.”

“Was he that good…y’know?” Juni eyes Harry at the table beside us.

“Shut up!” I shove Juni. “He was just surprisingly nice. I thought he’d be a fuckboy about everything but aside from his past I didn’t get those vibes at all. And then he kept…” I sigh. I wasn’t going to get caught in this vicious cycle.

“From what I heard,” Rhia whispers. “He usually is like that though. Sleeps with a rotation of girls and never more than twice in a row. And he never hangs out with them inside school and he never makes things official and…”

She trails off as Juni and I stare at her. She flushes.

“Someone’s been keeping an ear for the goss,” Juni teases.

“What!?” She glares. “After YN I just tried to gather intel. To help. He broke his pattern with her. I was surprised myself every time he found her at a party and she ditched us-“

“Hey I thought you were cool with that.” I say.

“I am!” She shakes her head. “I didn’t mean it like that! I’m glad you got your distraction. But now it just feels like he was more than he was worth.

“Like now you need a distraction from your distraction.” Juni nods.

“Tell me about it.” I grumble. I pop another carrot stick in my mouth and as I chew Harry turns his head and we catch eyes. He does a head nod and I flash a quick smile before moving my attention away.

I wonder if his heart races as much as mine. Probably not.

“Guys I think I do need a new distraction.” I announce.

“Ooh,” Rhia and Juni leans in.

“Someone who doesn’t go to this school though. I really want to keep it apart from my day to day life. And it’ll be a one-time thing. Like a cleanse.”

“Like a cleanse.” They echo.

“Well I can check with you-know-who for all the eligible guys at that other stinky school.” Juni says enthusiastically. She had a crush/situationship that went there. We called him YKW because she didn’t want anyone to hear about how often she talked about him despite talking to him 2.5 times.

“More like if he thinks you’re asking for yourself he might get jealous enough to ask you out.” Rhia laughs.

“Ooh.” I join in.

“Shush.” She blushes. “Maybe. It’s all in the tone. Sound innocent but aloof like you don’t know how the question might affect them. And you really are innocent because you’re seriously asking for a friend.”

I laugh loud at Juni. No wonder I managed to pull off my con with Harry in the computer room when I had friends like Juni feeding me these bits of advice.

I feel Harry’s eyes on me, my laughter likely ringing too loud.

“But who wants to be in a relationship at this point?” Rhia asks. “It’s like 3 months to grad and then we get to meet uni folks.”

“Yeah,” I risk a glance toward’s Harry’s table. He’s not looking. “Exactly.”

Harry POV:

Another Saturday night, another house party.

My mum had made a fuss about me never being home weekends so I’d been forced to have dinner with the family and make small talk while my sister smirked knowing I was itching to get out, and my parents barrelled me with question after question about unis and my future.

I feel like my head’s finally above water and I’m taking my first gulp of fresh air when I pull up to the party. I was late of course but that just meant everyone would be a little drunk.

My eyes scan the crowds as I walk through, greeting some friends. The person throwing it was our coach’s nephew who was a year younger than us but somehow cool enough to be in the fold. It also helped that getting along with him gave us more insight on coach during football season.

“You’re late,” Dana who I’ve known since preschool spots me first. “This is a first isn’t it?”

“Yeah yeah my parents were making a big deal about missing dinner.”

“My parents are in Manchester for drugs,” Akil grins. He was coach’s nephew and his parents both worked pharmaceuticals. They were away often enough on work trips so a lot of parties took place here.

“When aren’t they?” Someone asks.

“Surprised you’re not here with a pair of long lashes and boobs,” Dana smarts. Since we’d known each other so long she was just like Gemma always on my case about the way I “used” girls.

“Now c’mon Dana,” I give her my attention. “This shirt didn’t fit the boobs and I was running late for the lashes.”

She rolls her eyes, “Hardy har.”

“What about you?” I ask. “Anyone you’re seeing.”

“I wish,” she crosses her arms. “I feel like half the girls I could be seeing are still closeted.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know!” She says. “Like how do you know when a girl’s straight for you.”

“Touche.” I agree. “And the other half?”

She clears her throat but before she could say something Ray jumps in.

“The other half can’t stand her.”

“Piss off.” She flips him off. The rest of us laugh, used to seeing the two cousins insult each other most of our lives. “More like the other half’s already slept with Harry.”

“I’m getting a drink,” I call out as the accusations go flying.

I leave my friends and sniff out the drinks in its usual spot in the dining room. The house was nice, nicer than most of the homes we had parties at, and yet it wasn’t one of those places that were cold. It was lived-in despite the weird decor along the walls from all of the residents’ travels.

I’m filling up my cup from the keg someone procured when I notice who exactly is in the corner of the room. The seconds stretch as I hone in on her and the friend she’s always with. My blood pumps extra hard just to keep me upright and functioning.

I’d seen her a ton of times since that conversation. We’d even passed a few hellos when forced but I haven’t been the same since.

I had told myself it was one of those things that needed to fully leave my system. Like bad weed or a shitty flu. And I’d waited weeks but everything between, everything I felt, stuck stubbornly.

And now my body betrayed me every time I saw her. I wanted her to look at me and see her expression change. I wanted to ask her how things were, I was fucking curious. Curious. It was awful.

Her friend is using her hands to explain something to YN and I can’t see her face entirely but she looks unconvinced. I nudge a little closer.

“-says so. And! He’s 5’11.”

“So he couldn’t even make it to 6 feet?” YN asks. I hold back a smile.

“YN!” Her friend whines.

“I’m joking!” YN says. “That was a joke jeez I don’t body shame as long as they’re above 5’6.”

Her friend—I think her name was June rolls her eyes. “Ok that was funny but I don’t know why you have cold feet. Just go up to him! You don’t have to date him. Rhi made small talk with him for recon he thought you were cute! And plus…”

I stop listening when the pieces click together. I don’t know why I thought YN and I hooking up would get whatever it was out of her system. Maybe because she never hooked up. Yet here she was being set up with someone else?

YN begins to turn and I move fast, like I was on the field, to get out of there.

“Were you brewing your own beer?” Akil asks.

“Are you timing how long it takes for me to get a drink?” I snap. “Jeez.”

“Easy,” Akil eyes me.

“Someone needs something stronger.”

I ignore them and take a slow breath. That was unwarranted. I don’t know why I was being so irritable with my friends.

In a few seconds my watered down cup is empty and I’m following the crowd to another part of the house.

“Oh Harry!” A pretty voice calls as we settle in. “I didn’t see you tonight—thought you weren’t showing.”

“He was just late don’t worry,” Dana says sweetly as…I think her name was Britney, sashays into the room.

“Yeah I was late,” I glare back at Dana. She didn’t have to talk for me. Then I watch her give Brit the once over and I realize she could be jealous.

“Yeah well we haven’t talked since that night and I just wanted to say,” she stretches up to my ear. “It was really fun. You always know exactly what I need.”

She stands on her toes and sets herself back down, bouncing a few times before cocking her head. Meanwhile I’m trying to place her.

I had kept pretty to myself the last few weeks. I try to remember the last time I had slept with someone and then it comes to me: the night YN and I had that talk after school.

“I had fun myself,” I hold my hand out and she steps inside of it, her arms going around my waist immediately.

“I thought you forgot,” she laughs.

“How could I forget?” I murmur, waiting for that rush of endorphins but my heart’s just not in it. I don’t want to be here chatting her up. I didn’t want to have to listen to her most of the night while my mates hung out. I didn’t want to find a room with her or drop her home. Fuck…I didn’t want to be with her.

That’s never happened before. My body feels foreign, like it’s going into shutdown as the realization slithers through me.

“Have you met Dana before?” I change the subject. I wanted her off of me. Asap. I didn’t care to be around her.

“Dana?” She looks over at Dana, confused. “Uhm no?”

“She’s great.” I say as Dana shoots lasers at me. “I’ve known her since preschool. But she has a bite so be careful what you say around her.”

“Oh,” Britney puts some distance between us as she looks between Dana and I. Good. “Okay? Hi?”

“Hi. Don’t mind him. I think he got drunk off one drink.” Dana glares.

“Unless you’re into biting,” I continue. But I get cut off when Akil calls Brit’s name.

She whips her head at the sound of her name. Akil’s waving. “Does your brother still do those custom decals Brit?”

“Uh yeah?” Poor Brit, she’s confused as shit.

“Yeah? Uh come over here so we can talk. Don’t wanna yell…” Brit abandons us happily and walks over to Akil. I mouth thank you to him and he flashes me a grin that’s up to no good.

“You dick!” Dana swings her hand into my ribs and I fold. “Why would you do that?”

“Ouch! What!?” I rub the sore spot. “Is she not part of half those girls you were talking about?”

“No! Why would you—oh my god.”

I shrug, “I thought she was. I was trying to introduce you two.”

“Do me a favour?” She asks. “Never ever ever play cupid for me. Ever. Don’t pull that shit again.”

I hold my hands up and settle back. Brit was gone at least but the low thrum of anxiety is not. I needed to step away.

“Maybe I need another drink. You want something?” I ask her.

“Really? Didn’t you drive here?” I raise a brow at her. I knew my limits. She shrugs. “Fine I’ll just have whatever you get for yourself.”

I ruffle her hair just to annoy her more as I leave. In all this uncertainty and change at least I still had my friends to banter with. But even then, I was being a dick earlier.

I use the toilet and then grab drinks. On my way out I spot YN and it must be the bloke June was talking about because he looks 5’11 and interested in YN. He looks familiar from the back but before I can focus on who he is I catch her smiling up at him saying something. I feel a twinge in my chest, I made her laugh when we were together. Was it me or did she just laugh at any joke? Maybe what we had wasn’t as unique as I thought.

“Harry.” Someone materializes beside me. It startles me out of my trance and I nearly spill my drinks. “Sorry!”

“You’re light on your feet,” I try to regain composure. And much shorter too. “Hi…June.”

“Eee.”

“Huh?” I stare at YN’s friend. Was she okay?

“You said June.”

“Yeah?”

“My name’s Juni?” She puts her hands on her hips.

“Oh shit sorry. I…sorry.”

“That’s alright,” she shrugs and her cutting look is gone. “Why are you staring at my best friend so hard?”

I stare at her. It made sense suddenly, that this was YN’s best friend. She looks over my shoulder and her face brightens and suddenly somebody else joins our circle.

“Hey what’s going on?” Another one of YN’s friends.

“Just talking to Harry. About why he’s staring lasers at YN behind her back.”

My mouth opens in surprise; I feel cornered.

“Strange from a guy who plays girls like guitar and then moves on like a one-hit-wonder.” Her other friend says.

“Nice one.” Juni nods. “Spot on.”

“I don’t know what you two are on about,” I take a step away from them. It felt like an ambush. “I was just looking in that direction-“

“I’m not an idiot.” Juni rolls her eyes. “I’ve seen the way you watch her in Chem. I sit in front of YN and every time I turn to talk to her i just see you like a freak in the back.”

“Is it a crime to look jeez.”

“Obviously not but listen, we all know you’re a fuckboy. And you…fuck around. We don’t know if it’s cuz you’re not used to rejection or what? But leave her be. She’s going through enough-“

“I know.” My defences rise. I knew now after some digging what she was going through. I haven’t approached her or bothered her as much as I’ve wanted for the last few weeks. I’ve wanted to do more than just look at her like it was a demanding need and I had kept it to myself.

I had been selfish and I know she was going through stuff. Grief and all that. I had no plans to fuck with her.

“Do you?” Her other friend asks.

“Yeah. Her grandpa and stuff. I get it. I’m not trying to…fuck around. You guys are like her bodyguards or something?”

“No just friends,” Juni crosses her arms. “We care about her.”

So do I, I almost say with my defences so triggered. Luckily I have enough sense to keep my mouth shut. Or maybe not. I’ve finally placed the guy she’s talking to and I can’t help but play the upper hand.

“If you cared about her you wouldn’t be hooking her up with a pothead that’s slept with a teacher and been arrested at least once for carrying.

Juni’s mouth drops and her other friend is staring at her.

“You’re lying!” She says.

I turn to look at YN who looks like she’s relaxed and having fun. My stomach turns. “I’m not. But don’t interrupt her now—she looks like she’s having fun.”

“But—how—what!” Juni looks at her friend. “Did you know?”

“Well I know he smokes sometimes but I-“

“Oh my god.” Juni looks mortified.

“I should go.” I should be leaving with satisfaction but all I can think about is YN maybe sleeping with this guy and I just feel sick.

“No you can’t!” Juni says. “Tell me what you know!”

“I did.” I raise my glasses. “My friends are waiting though. Nice talking June.”

Her mouth drops open again as I turn to leave to her shouting, “Juni you prick!”

I can’t deny that that didn’t bring me a bit of satisfaction.

Your POV:

He was incredibly attractive and I might have even blushed when he smiled at me with his full attention but other than that…I’m a bit bored. The thing is he hasn’t detached from his group of friends for one minute and even though he includes me in the conversations—and they are a very lighthearted and funny group, a lot of their inside jokes go over my head and it’s not because of the shots I’d done to get over my nerves tonight. And I’m pretty sure a couple of them are already high.

“And then he blackflips off the pole and-“ the friend telling the story starts laughing too much to finish and I smile along as Drevan shakes his head at me.

“They like to tell this story to pretty girls so they all know I’ve had concussions.”

“Concussions?!” I ask. “Like, multiple?”

Drevan shrugs but his friend hears me.

“Yes! He lands in the bin on his head and knocks himself out-“

“It was actually scary at first,” someone else pipes in.

“I would be shit scared.” These were clearly the type of guys who thought edging death was hilarious. Doubts creep in about whether Drevan was even hook-up material. How did Juni find this guy appropriate?

“I would be too if I was conscious.” Drevan says and everyone laughs.

As they talk about something else, Drevan snakes his hand around my shoulder and I smile at him. He winks and goes back to listening. At least he smelled nice.

My eyes wander the room spotting classmates and familiar faces. Rhia’s in the far end of the room and she gives me a thumbs up, I throw a grimace back. Her brows tighten and I shake my head subtly to tell her not to worry.

I hadn’t seen Harry yet, as hard as I was trying not to look for him. I knew he was probably in some dark corner with a new girl and I shouldn’t care because I was here with someone else.

“Hey YN how come we don’t see you around a lot?” One of his friends ask. All the names were thrown at me so long ago I can’t remember any of them.

“Oh I uhm,” I hate being put in the spotlight like this. “I’m just not a regular at these things.”

“I heard you’re smart as shit,” one of them says.

“Yeah I heard that too,” Drevan nods, impressed.

“I guess yeah,” I shrug. “I work hard to get good grades.”

“Good for you,” Drevan says. “So do you…do any…extracurriculars?”

I just know his definition of extracurriculars is not mine.

“Like do parkour onto the unstable bins at the back of school?” I ask.

“Nah,” he grins. “That’s funny though. I mean do you smoke or…”

Once. Rhia, Juni, and I had begged Rhia’s brother to let us have some of his stash last summer. We’d worn him down with our whining and he agreed to it if we stayed inside until we were sober. And we did, it was one of the highlights of last summer us giggling at everything and watching our favourite romcom while ordering takeaway and eating like we were 13. It was one of those days my life’s worries were able to slide away and I could just enjoy being a teen with my friends.

“I’ve dabbled,” I stay vague. “But it’s been a while.”

His eyes light up. “Want to join?”

I look around the group and the idea of swapping something between their lips to me—I’m sure they were fine but I didn’t know them and it makes my stomach squirm.

“Ehh I’m not big on swapping with everyone—no offence I just-“

“Yeah yeah no worries—I’ve got an uncle who’s like a germaphobe.” Suddenly he’s reaching into his pockets and comes up with a contraption. There’s weed and papers and some other stuff and it makes me laugh. “What?”

“It’s like a lab in your pocket,” I laugh. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“There’s enough to go around.” He grins. “So this one’s really concentrated but maybe that’s a bit much ehm…usually my line is I’ve got one for lovers and one for dreamers.”

Like I’ve summoned the devil, Harry appears in the doorway. I glance back at the group quickly so he doesn’t notice me watching him. Shite.

“I’ll take the lovers,” I shrug. Whatever that meant I figured the one for dreamers would get me more stoned which I’d rather not do here. Not that the one drag I plan on doing could affect me much.

“Yeah?” He raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” I smile. He starts to roll it up for me and it’s tighter than a Victorian woman in a corset. I’m sort of mesmerized at how adept his hands are at that. I fear I might have been led on by an actual stoner.

“What’s going on here?” Harry lazily makes his way beside me, hovering over where we sit just as Drevan holds it up to me.

“Heyy Styles c’mon over here!” They do a bro hug and I’m instantly irritated. Of course they know each other. “I was just letting her inspect my work before she takes it-“

“YN?” Harry looks at me and his eyes pierce me to the spot. “YN’s gonna smoke?”

“Yeah!” Drevan puts his arm around me again and unlike before I want him to take it back. “She chose the lovers special man—she’s into it!”

“Really?” Harry smiles. “YN I didn’t know you were into this stuff. I’ve really underestimated you.”

I give him a sarcastic smile. “I heard you’re good at that. I’m not into it but I do it occasionally…”

“Occasionally?” Harry raises a brow. Ugh I hated him.

Meanwhile Drevan’s lit it up and passes it to me. “First?”

I take it and just to prove a point I put it to my lips with my eyes on Harry and inhale exactly how Rhia’s brother taught us. It comes surprisingly easy.

“I’ll take a hit too.” Harry’s eyes don’t leave mine. We’re locked in a challenge.

“Go ahead,” I hand it to him and a small thrill passes through me when his hand brushes mine, when I think about his lips being where mine had just been. I was so screwed.

“I love this guy,” Drevan says beside me, oblivious. “On the field Style’s a legend—he’s somehow made the most goals as a defence. I mean who does that!”

I raise my brows as Harry releases, “Styles not where he’s supposed to be? Now why doesn’t that surprise me?”

Drevan laughs and Harry’s mouth quirks. Drevan takes the spliff from Harry’s outstretched hand but not before being Harry’s number one fan.

“He’s actually a speed demon. Everytime I’m on the field with him I know my legs are done in.”

“That’s because you’re stoned at every game,” Harry says.

“True! I pass every piss test they make me do though don’t I?”

“I don’t want to know,” I put my hand up. “How that’s possible.”

“Yeah sorry sorry,” Drevan smiles. Unfortunately he’s really handsome but the more the picture of him comes together and the more he goes on about Harry the more I know I wore my best matching set for nothing. “Lady present. Did you want another before I pass it?”

“Yeah do you?” Harry eyes me and only because he said it and because I’m feeling nothing so far (my eventual downfall), I take another. I try not to inhale too much but I don’t know how to do a short puff. I hope I don’t regret it. The smell coming off was already a lot.

“Mate?” Drevan asks Harry. He shakes his head. What a snake!

Drevan passes it on and of course Harry decides to stay standing and talking with the group. Apparently a few of them are in a band and they’re trying to convince Harry to help them out. Pretty soon I’m zoning out and my stomach feels funny.

“I don’t know if I feel so great,” I tell Drevan quietly. So what if it looks like I’m whispering sweet nothings in his ear if someone like Harry was watching.

“Oh shit,” Drevan turns into me. “You should get some water. Lay down? D’you want me to help you find-“

“No,” I did not want to hang out with Drevan anymore. He was nice but a pothead. “I got it. It might just be cramps.”

He nods like he understand, “I’ve got two younger sisters. I get that. If you feel better or want some more just come back here okay?”

“Thanks,” I try to convey my appreciation with a smile but I might just look like I’m high.

I ignore Harry as I leave the small group but a hand on my arm stops me as I round the couch.

“Find me later if it gets weird.” He says in my ear.

I lean back so I can see his face but he’s entirely serious. His eyes search mine as I stare at him blankly.

“The weed. Find me later if you need anything.”

He lets go of me. What the fuck? What would I need from him? He wants me to find him later when he’ll have a girl draped all over him just so I can seem needy and he can feel needed. Ugh.

“Girly!” I hear Juni’s voice and nearly collapse into her arms when I crash into her right outside the room.

“Juni oh my god. I’m so glad you’re here where’s Rhia?”

“I dunno? She found some old friend she knew when she was like 6 or something and she’s disappeared to catchup or whatever.”

“Oooh,” I wiggle my brows.

“No it’s legit an old friend. She moved when they were kids or something.”

“Aw,” I sigh. “That was the weirdest-“

“I’m so sorry,” she holds my arms and takes me onto the steps. “I’m gonna kill that guy I swear to god.”

“What? Drevan? No! He was really sweet!”

“No! My guy. YKW. I was trying to make him jealous while he was taking the piss because he totally recommended the class stoner and I pushed you onto him without doing any research! I feel awful!”

“It’s alright! He was really respectful actually. Maybe my type if he wasn’t a pothead?”

“No. No YN do not go there. Apparently he slept with a teacher!”

“No!” I gasp. “Do you think he was their dealer?”

“Obviously! And they probably couldn’t pay so he set up a barter system.”

“How much do you think one round covers?”

We pause to think before cackling at the story we’d just created.

“We’re idiots. Class idiots.” Juni says as we wipe our tears.

“I love us.” I say and realize how true it is. “I love you Juni. Honestly I don’t know where’d I’d be without you. And Rhia. You guys have kept me so together this past year.”

“Aww,” Juni hugs me sideways. “What are forever friends for babe.”

“Like I feel like I’ve just been going through a shitstorm and everything is still changing so much! And I can’t figure anything out! And you and Rhia are like standing on either side of me just keeping me up. I seriously-“

“Jeez don’t cry!” Juni wipes my lashline. “I don’t want to cry if I’m going to tear YKW a new one.”

“You haven’t already?”

“No! I was busy being a creep in the corner watching you to make sure Sir Pothead didn’t do any funny business. I saw you smoke his weed though. You alright?”

“Yeah. Maybe I just need the toilet I’m feeling a bit nauseous.”

“Okay. Just call me if you need me alright?”

“I love you,” I tell her. I want to squish her against me but I start to feel really poorly. “I’m gonna go though.”

“Go!” She waves me off. “I’ve got some yelling to do.”

The walk to the toilet is a fog and I run the tap to splash my face. It feels extra cold so I dial it down but it gets too hot. Suddenly I want to cry.

“Breathe,” I tell myself. “Breathe breathe breathe breathe. Oh my god. Okay. Let’s go with cold water.”

I splash the tundra water on my neck and along my throat. It feels better-ish.

I realize I hadn’t turned on the light when I can’t even see my reflection.

“Stupid,” I laugh. I turn it on and immediately stop laughing. My face…it’s drooping. Am I having a stroke?

I pull my cheeks up with my palms and squish it into my face but every time I let go I look like I’ve lived another 30 years and gravity has taken’s it’s toll on my face.

“What the fuck?” I whisper to myself. I whisper it again because it sounds nice. It feels good to swear. I say it again, a little louder and I laugh because I have no idea what’s going on.

I squeeze my eyes closed, shake my face, and look back. I look somewhat normal. My neck looks splotchy though. I rummage through a drawer but other than a blowdryer there’s nothing to help me.

“You’re an attractive girl and you’re just feeling a little fucked.” I tell myself in the mirror. “You-“

“Hurry!” Bang. “Up!” Bang.

I jump out of my skin and turn to stare at the door. Did I imagine that?

“Hello!” Bang.

Another succession of banging and shouting to get me out of the bathroom. How dare they?

I fling the door open and the guy on the other side startles.

I lean in and poke his chest. “Rude. Fucking rude!”

“I need the toilet!”

“I am a lady using it that’s rude! You don’t bang on the door like a fuckass while I’m in there!”

“Okay!” He holds his hands up. “Sorry! I had to use it and you were in there for hours!”

“It was not hours!” I say but even I can’t tell. “You’re a liar too!”

“I can’t do this I’ve got to go, here look I’m sorry-“ he shoves something into my hand and scrambles away, locking the door behind him.

It’s a glass bottle and it feels deliciously cold.

I inspect the bottle but it looks like beer. A few swigs and I finally feel less flushed. Less agitated. This was nice. This was perfect. Maybe he was an angel in a miserable disguise.

“Mmmm,” I laugh. Maybe I needed to dance. I felt like dancing.

I pass a few crowds, some rooms; when I see dancing I slide in. I don’t know what’s playing but it feels like it’s coming from my heart and it’s spilling out from me. Like I was the speaker. I spin around a few times so everyone can hear it, so the whole room could have just as much fun as me.

“Oh fuck,” I swear as the spinning catches up to me. “Not a good idea.”

I crouch into a corner and try to be patient. Wait for it to pass. But every second feels like a fucking decade and I don’t have the time.

“Hey are you alright?” A nice girl with cartoon-like eyes asks me. I know her. I just can’t remember where.

“Are you?” I ask. “I’m grand.”

“You don’t look it,” she smiles awkwardly. “Can I help you up.”

“I can get up,” I say but my legs feel tangled and she helps me up without asking eventually.

“Can I take you somewhere? Your friends or?”

“No no relax, you’re so nice!” I pat her shoulder. “And you have amazing bangs. I wish I looked good in bangs. My Nan cut my bangs when I was 12, microbangs!? And I wished I was never born! My face looked like a fucking square like a piece of toast! Oh god I could use toast right now. With beans. Uhhhhhh-“

“Hey,” the nice girl leans me against the wall. “How about you stay here and I get you water?”

Suddenly I remember Drevan telling me to drink water. I’m sure I had water but I nod. Water wouldn’t kill me. Unless I was drowning. Which is funny because I used to swim competitively. Like if I was in a thriller my parents would know I was murdered because I would have died drowning. I smile to myself just as a water bottle is held out to me.

“You know plastic’s killing the earth,” I take the bottle. “Isn’t it funny we bottle water in plastic when it’s free flowing out there? Hey do you know how to swim? You look like you could-“

“Drink!” She urges but she blushes. “You really should drink the water. You might be drunk…or high. You’re too wordy for a drunk.”

“I don’t know what I am.” I say after drinking half the bottle. “Actually I’m alive.”

She smiles at me and she’s really really nice to look at. “You are alive.”

“Yeah! I love being alive. Do you want to dance?”

“I don’t dance,” she shakes her head. “Plus I have to get back…Um. It was nice talking to you.”

“Nooo!” I clutch her hand. Her hands feel incredibly soft.

“Ow!” She pulls her hand away laughing. “You’re really squishing my hand.”

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t worry. You should call someone if you’re here. And you don’t feel good.”

“No I’m great!” I show her a dance move. “See? I can call my friend Juni. She’s great. You should find her you two could be friends! But I’ll call her first.”

“Okay,” she smiles again. “See ya around YN!”

I didn’t know her name. Oh no! I look for her but she’s disappeared into thin air.

I go back to dancing until my legs hurt and I’m thirsty all over again.

I wander to the front of the house in search of drink but I’m distracted by the chandelier that looks like it’s made of stars. I wonder how that’s possible. I stand at the foot of the staircase staring at it, the light was reflecting off of one, two, three, four, five, six, seven-

“What are we looking at?”

Harry. His head is level with mine and he’s staring at the ceiling.

“That? Duh.” I point to the stars. “It’s bloody beautiful.”

“It is,” he chuckles and the sound feels like it vibrates through me. Like those steel pans you hit with a mallet and it reverberates. “I can see you’re in the full throes of your high.”

“You’re high.” I retort as he stands back to full height. He really was high.

“Not really. But you,” he laughs, “you really inhaled that thing.”

“And you didn’t?”

“Barely. If I’m getting high I don’t like so much thc. Fucks with my head a little.”

“So then why’d you do it Styles?” I mock Drevan. I don’t know why. I just remember it had grated on me a little and it feels good to say. Like swearing. But staring up at him starts to make me feel dizzy as he sways around.

“Harry.”

“Huh?”

“It’s Harry.”

Weirdo. “Okay. Harry. Why’d you do it?”

“Because you were doing it.” He says with a flash of his dimple.

“So you’re a copycat? A follower?” I taunt. “Monkey see monkey do?”

“As long as we’re the pair of monkeys.” He leans in and the smell of him envelops me. “Then yeah. I am.”

His words, his smell, his presence. Whatever it is I lean away from the much-ness of it. I don’t know what to say to him.

“Well I dunno who you’re cal—woah.” I lean too far back and underestimate how far away the stair behind me is. I land on my bum with a thump.

“Hey,” Harry grabs my arm a second too late.

“Bad reflexes,” I point to his arm but it’s too late. My stomach dips and twirls like a fucking roller coaster and his hand on my arm feels more inappropriate than it is. But his touch. God, it’s warm and strong and stable. I needed that. Craved it.

A small voice screams at me in my head and I tell it to shut up. What did it know?

“That’s my bad,” he lets me go. I want to shout at him to bring it back.

“Your bad what?” I stare at his hand that’s no longer on my arm. I want it back.

“My bad reflexes.”

“I just said that.”

“I know! I’m saying you’re right.”

“Of course I’m fucking right!”

I finally drag my eyes up to his face. Goddamn. He looks just like I did in the mirror; his face slowly drooping like he’s aged 50. Still got a full head of hair though. It’s kind of nice.

Not you being attracted to a 50 year old.

“What? Have I got something on my face?” Harry asks but I can’t stop staring. How can he look good with a sagging face? And he’s got no wrinkles. I knew time was feeling really slow but had we aged that much tonight?

“YN?” His face disappears from view and then I feel it again—his hand on me. Oh god. His hand’s on my face to lower it until I’m looking at him. Eye-level.

He’s crouched down in front of me and his eyes are pools I want to drown in. Which would take a lot of effort because I am a really good swimmer. Maybe I could fake drown. I zip through the possibilities in a few seconds. There were so many of them.

He says my name again but it sounds far away. Slow. Like he’s pronouncing every letter. His brows further—there! A wrinkle! I laugh but his eyes just fill with something…something that reminds me of the night I cried in front of him. When he just looked at me like…

“Your face,” I slap my hands down on both his cheeks and he balances himself on the bannister, nearly falling back. “It’s drooping.”

“It’s what?” He laughs.

I smush his cheeks up and try to fix it, not that it needed to be fixed. He was stupidly attractive always.

“Drooping! Sagging! I just need to push it up! I’ve done it before don’t worry.”

“YN,” his fingers circle my wrist and I stop what I’m doing immediately. Surely he feels how erratic my pulse is. Like a machine gun releasing into his finger.

Don’t look into his eyes don’t look into his eyes don’t-

Damnit.

Green and never-ending, a question I’m afraid to answer, an emotion that I felt myself but denied, the beginning of something I could not step into. I could not step into. I could not step into this.

With a gentle tug he’s removed my hands off his face and now, even worse, they lay on top of his.

Maybe…I could step into this.

“Talk to me, what’s happening?” He asks but again it sounds like a Tiktok video I’ve put into 0.75.

I can’t talk. My hands are in his but it feels like my heart’s there instead and like my mouth has travelled to the back of my head. He wants me to talk. Like I did that night. He looks at me like he cares. Like that night. He’s not supposed to care.

Why didn’t I take the high road that afternoon—my brain scrambles as the joke writes itself: I was taking the high road today whether I liked it or not. But I chose to be petty when we talked. Why would I want to hurt him? He cared. He wasn’t supposed to though.

“I thought weed was s’posed to calm you down.” I finally manage to get it out.

“You chose the wrong one for calming down.” He laughs. The sound washes over me.

“Huh? I’m not calm. My mind is a factory for thoughts. The production is endless I feel like I’m going to explode and everyone’s going to know everything in here.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” He squeezes my hands. I squeeze my legs. “Might be nice for top class YN YLN to join us mortals and share some regular thoughts.”

“Oh these are not regular. Fuck. Drevan should’ve given me a warning.”

He smiles fondly and I hate it and I love it. “He did.”

“What!?” I’m so confused right now. “Stop! I don’t like how I’m feeling!”

“Did you drink anything?”

“Yeah! Th-that miserable angel gave me…I dunno. He just gave it to me after being an asshat what was I s’posed to do!”

“I’m not even gonna ask,” he mutters and I feel the words through my hands. That are still touching mine.

“Why are you still holding my hands?”

“You don’t want me to?”

“No.”

He slips them away. But that wasn’t what I meant.

“No I want you to touch me,” I say. His eyebrows which looks one inch tall shoot up. I reach out to flatten them and they return to normal.

“Uhm,” he clears his throat. “Y-you do?”

I reach out to touch his face again because it just feels like it fits so perfectly in the palm of my hand. It’s warm and alive and a little prickly. But it feels so nice. He feels nice. I want him to touch me too. I nod.

“How?” He turns his face in my palm and it’s like bristles against my soft skin but then his lips press against my palm. I find it harder to breathe like all the air’s gone to my head.

He looks back at me and I want what his gaze has. I want every single thing they’re communicating. I felt like I could read his mind; we both took a hit of the same thing, maybe I can.

“Like that,” I whisper.

“Like this?” His fingers circle my wrist and he kisses it, exactly where my pulse continues on its kill streak. I don’t think I needed weed or anything because his kisses alone make me feel high. The kind of high I did with my friends. The fun high.

I can’t speak. I simply nod.

“Y’sure?” He kneels on the step below me and I unsqueeze my legs. His hands cage me against the step I’m on and he’s all around me, and even though he hasn’t touched me yet it’s like his essence vibrates out to touch mine. Like maybe they meet in the middle and create something delicate and bewitching.

“I’m sure,” I manage to say.

I feel perfectly overwhelmed as he leans into me and presses a kiss to my throat. But it’s too slow.

“You’re killing me,” I tell him when he kisses me again by my ear.

“That was your job,” he comes back to face me.

“It’ll be my job if you don’t touch me in the next five seconds.”

“Fucking hell,” Harry’s swear catches me off guard.

“What?”

“You say those types of things in my dreams. I never thought I’d hear them out of those lips of yours again.”

I don’t know what to say. My mind literally quiets. Finally. It feels sobering.

“I can’t give you what you want out here.”

Then he’s standing. He’s fucking standing and further away from me than before. How dare he! How-

Oh.

He extends a hand and I take it, I let him pull me up and with a hand to my back that feels like a pulse he leads me upstairs. And then up another flight. He walks like he knows the place and everything blurs until he closes a door behind him. My heart beats like an elephant stampede until he comes back to me and cups my face, looks at me in that exact Harry way, and kisses me.

I’m falling but I’m unafraid. There’s his strong and steady arms to catch me at the end.

We make our way to the bed and I feel it. That’s everything. I just feel the sounds and colours and emotions and touch, the air and the bedpost and the way he says my name against me. I feel it. I feel it grounding me.

“Wait,” when he pulls away I nearly launch myself at him but I feel too relaxed to even be mad. He’s perched on the bed with me between his legs. I keep my hands around his neck because I couldn’t bare to have them by my side. “Should we be doing this? You’re not really with it and-“

“I’m not bloody unconscious.”

“I know but you’re not in the right mindset.”

“I’m practically begging you to touch me Harry. You’re really slow for someone who’s meant to be a womanizer.”

“Hold on,” he puts his hands back on my waist and I relax marginally. “It’s a consent thing. I know my way around women perfectly.”

I knew.

“I consent. ‘Kay?”

“But you’re high and probably drunk? I don’t-“

“You’ve never slept with someone high?”

“Yeah! But you’re….you’re you!”

“What’s that mean?” I frown. I unclasp my hands and take a step back.

He runs a hand down his face and sighs. “Not like that. Come back. I mean you don’t normally do this sort of thing. It’s obviously the first time you’ve taken a hit from something this strong and…” all the words taper off as I cross my arms. “Okay! Nevermind! You’re alright with all this?”

“Yes. Yes a hundred bajillion million times. Do you want me to walk in a straight line with my finger on my nose?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “No I’m sorry.”

It’s nice, him apologizing. It thaws me a little. When I’m close enough he tugs me back by the jeans and unbuttons them slowly. Everything was too slow.

“What were you saying about begging?” He grins up at me. I liked when he was looking up at me.

“I said practically.”

His hands roam freely up under my tee and I feel like I’m melting. Like a literal scoop of ice cream on a hot summer’s day.

He fingers my bra and his brows suddenly come together. It’s very animated I almost laugh.

“Take this off,” he removed his hands from my body and tugs at the tee. I do what he tells me to, just wanting his hands on me again. When it’s a pile on the ground he leans back, cocking his head to the side.

“What?” I throw my hands up. “You’re gonna ask me just t’stare?”

“No this,” he leans forward again and uses the band of my exposed knickers to pull me forward. When I’m close enough he eyes my bra. “This was for him?”

A flush erupts under my skin and it feels volcanic. Some of it pools in my belly and the rest creeps up my neck.

The this is my one and only 2 piece set I’d kept for special occasions. Well a singular one before my ex broke up with me last year. It had seen the light of day once in between and tonight I had worn it for luck. It’s lacy and black and makes me feel confident. In front of Harry it makes me feel powerful.

He was jealous. Of course the one guy that sleeps with whoever he wants would be the jealous type.

“Maybe,” I egg it. Even though I am desperate for this night to move on I can’t deny the thrill of having him be jealous. It affirms the needy part of me that wanted to believe we had something different—the part rational me wouldn’t ever pay attention to.

“So you planned it all out?” He removes his fingers from my waistband and leans back again. “You were going to come here, in that, and sleep with…him?”

“Why not him?” I bite my smile but I barely feel what my face is doing. “If it’s too much for your ego I wore this for someone el-“

“No.”

He says it as a complete sentence. I am gagged but I try my best not to show it.

“I just don’t like the idea of it.”

“Well,” I step in between his legs. His eyes are so dark I have to think just to remember the colour they usually were. “This isn’t the first time so better get used to the idea.”

“But you’re here with me tonight.”

“I am…lucky you.” I can’t help the chesire grin from creeping in. I climb atop the bed, one knee on either side of him. This was taking too long. I needed him all over me.

He leans all the way back into the bed with a noisy sigh.

I lean in, “jealous aren’t you?”

“Do you like that?”

I lean further until I could smell his pulse. “D’you want me to like that?”

“Yeah,” he gulps. “W-would you ever be? Jealous?”

I kiss his throat. I want to bite it. Like a vampire. I resist.

“You’re not mine to be jealous.”

“Do you want me to be?” He asks so earnestly I lean back to see his face.

“Mine?” I ask. He nods. I did. I didn’t. I did. But I didn’t. “Mmmm don’t think you’re ready for that.”

“Ouch,” he says softly. His hands settle on my hips.

“Don’t ouch me. You’ve never had a long-term relationship and you run.”

“You’re different. You make me feel different.”

Same. But instead I ask, “And in three months time when we’re…gone and in different cities?”

“I’ll never stop wanting you.”

We fix each other with a stare equal parts frustrated, curious, and cautious. It was getting too serious—I didn’t want to ruin my chances of getting my needs met tonight. I clear my head and ease the tension.

“You’re jus’ saying this to get into my pants aren’t you?”

He plays along, “Is it obvious?”

“Yes. Now be a good boy and help me out of them.”

His mouth opens a little, honestly I don’t know where that even came from. I blame it on the drugs. He helps me out and when I’m only in the 2 piece he stops me.

“I’m never forgetting this night. Ever.”

“Shut up and get over here.” I roll my eyes. He was full of it.

His lips on me are like no drug anybody could ever hand me. They’re confident and unafraid, exploring every inch of me like a pirate looking for lost treasure. They make me gasp and beg and feel the entire universe and every single thing ever creates.

It leaves me untethered but he wraps me in his arms and I’m safe. I’m here with him. And for tonight, we’re together. With every move we build a universe just us.

H’s POV:

For the first time in my life I pray for red lights.

Every time my car stops I get to look at her in my passenger seat and I want to pinch myself. I can’t believe tonight was real. That she’s real. That even after everything, we got to have tonight together.

She’s got lowered inhibitions you just got lucky, a part of me says. And I know that. I know tonight was a one-off. She was never going to be this YN with me again.

Where I used to be afraid of this, of committing to her. I want it. I can’t imagine being with anyone else. When she said I wasn’t ready she was right but I didn’t want her to be. Maybe I had to change.

“Hey you’re home,” I say after being parked outside her house for a few minutes and just soaking in the last moments. It was warm in the car and quiet except for the low hum of the radio because YN had said it was making her sleepy. When she first sat in the car she had looked up at me through her long lashes for so long I had forgotten to turn the ignition on. When we realized she had laughed and leaned over to kiss me. Sweetly on the cheek. Like a girlfriend might.

I’d never wanted a girlfriend before.

It hurt knowing she might not even remember tonight. Or if she would it would be overshadowed by her other feelings. The feelings that came with baggage.

It was different seeing her so carefree tonight. I wonder if that’s how she was before all the stuff with her grandparents. And suddenly I’m mad at myself for not paying attention sooner. At her ex for hogging her for all that time. I imagine I met her earlier and could help her through the storms of last year.

God, I was becoming a simp. I look at her again, I didn’t care. Not if it was for her.

I open my door and go around into the street to open hers. As afraid as I was that her parents would find me outside with their basically passed-out daughter I just knew she couldn’t make it to the front door alone.

“Hey sleepy monkey, we gotta get you inside.”

“Huh?” She squints, blinks a few times. It was adorable and it makes something squirm in my chest. “Whatimeist?”

“Uhhh,” I look at my phone and notice the texts from a few people. “Half past 2 or so.”

“Oh god,” YN groans and covers her face with her jacket.

While she orients herself I check my messages. Akil had asked where I disappeared, Gemma’s asking me if I’ll be home for breakfast, and Dana asking me if YN was alright.

I owed it to Dana, she had found YN in a right state as she told me and that had pushed me to go looking for her where I’d found her in a daze staring at the ceiling lights. Thank god I had.

YN removes her legs from the car with a thump and then slumps over. I catch her this time and pull her up, closing the door behind her.

“You’ll have to help me a little,” I grunt.

“Mmk,” she mumbles. She wraps her arm around me and tucks into me and I take her to her front door.

“Keys.”

She paws at her jacket and eventually finds a pair.

“I don’t want to get you in trouble,” I whisper. “So I’m going to unlock the door and give you back your keys.”

“Why are you whispering?” She whispers back. “Huh?”

“I don’t want to get you in trouble!” I shout-whisper.

“Silly boy,” her eyes crinkle with a laugh. “My parents aren’t home.”

“Oh.” Suddenly the night stretches ahead.

“They’re travlingain.” She yawns. “You can sleepover?”

“No.” I couldn’t I realize with a wash of shame. Because waking up to her I don’t know what that meant. As much as I denied her claim about me not being ready deep down she was right.

She pouts and I busy myself with opening her door. She’s like a leech on me as I try to get her through and I end up inside with the door closing behind me.

“Drop me to bed?”

“You want to be tucked in?” I tease. She nods with a tired smile.

Who was I to deny such a cute face.

She leads me to her room, most of the house is too dark to see so I rely on her. Once in her room she turns on a lamp and sets about getting pjs.

“I’m gonna hate myself if I don’t,” she points to her face. “Ughhhh.”

“Glad I don’t relate.” I say but already I’m looking around her room. Every surface has something; I didn’t take YN as a collector but there’s piles of things everywhere. Seashells on her bookshelf, postcards on her wall, plushes on her bed, jewellery on her dresser next to miniature fruit figurines. I pick up a tiny pomegranate the size of my nail.

“I’m making them into earrings.” She says behind me. “My Nan likes that sort of thing.”

I didn’t expect her so fast. I turn and she sounds more sober and looks it too. Her face is freshly washed and she’s in an oversized shirt but only her legs peek out underneath. I recall the strength of them as they locked around my body just an hour ago, the sound of her and the feel of her—it was tattooed into a part of my brain.

But the YN presented before me is a lot like the one I see at school, and for a moment I get ready for her to kick me out. Accuse me of something. Go cold on me.

But she shuffles over and wraps her arms around me, lays her head on my chest. I slowly wrap my arms around her. The moment feels soft.

“Thanks for dropping me,” she says quietly. “I feel so fucked.”

“I know,” I chuckle. “You’ll be brand new in the morning. I made you drink a couple bottles of water before we left.”

“I don’t remember,” she mumbles tiredly.

“Let’s get you tucked into bed.” I say. She follows, and giggles the whole time I exaggeratedly tuck in every side of her. I love every second of it and I can’t believe it. If you told Harry of a month ago I would be doing this and having more fun than I’ve had with any girl I’d tell you to you were fucking with me.

“Stay? ‘Til I sleep?” She asks as soon as I finish.

I hesitate. I was so afraid a switch would go off any second, she would regret everything from tonight. I don’t realize how tense I am about it until a hand sneaks out from under the duvet and grips mine.

“Hey I just tucked you in!”

“Sorry!” She slips it back in with a shy smile.

“Fine,” I grumble and climb atop the blankets. At least this way I wouldn’t get too comfortable.

She turns to face me and we just watch each other in the warm glow of her lamp until her eyes flutter close. I wait until her breathing goes even and then I gently climb over her, kiss her goodnight, and leave. My heart chips further as I step over the threshold of her house. A little more as I drive away.

***YN:

I’m trying to remember which club I had tonight as I grab the textbooks I need from my locker for morning classes. My second period was so far away I just liked to get everything in at once.

The face that greets me as I close my locker door has my heart racing.

I wait for the familiar edginess but when I look at him I just feel confused. And a bit sad. Or that could be because he’s looking at me like I have the last Easter egg and I might share it with him for a prize.

“Harry,” I greet him.

“YN.” He says equally serious before cracking a smile.

He’s different. Friendlier? Or lighter?

“What?” I look around me. He raises his brows so I raise mine back. It feels silly.

The last time I saw him was at the party smoking weed laced with god knows what—I barely remembered the party after that which was entirely unlike me. All I could find was a text from Rhia asking if I’d made it home and when asked Juni had said she had left me looking fine and she couldn’t find me afterwards but she heard I might have been sick.

“Did you make it in alright?” He finally asks. “You got surprisingly fucked up Saturday night.”

I know he was there at the beginning. And I remember talking to him about something later, maybe the stars? It’s such a haze. But the way Harry’s looking at me makes my stomach turn; there was a possibility something could have happened.

It was weird waking up safely in my room with only a vague notion of how I got there. I remember someone waking me up and being in my room but I woke to an empty bed. An empty house.

Usually I slept at Nan’s when mum and dad travelled but I was still not talking to her much. The house felt emptier. My room felt different. My clothes from the night before had smelled like weed. It was not cute.

“Uh yeah I did?” Why was he talking to me so casually? I match his vibe in hopes of understanding the weekend better. “I didn’t have a hangover luckily. But I don’t think weed normally does that? I was incredibly hungry though. Like…I made a breakfast for five at least.”

Oh god and now I was blabbering. I was nervous! I don’t know if he had anything to do with Saturday night and I didn’t know how to act around him being so nice!

“Yeah well I think you had fun Saturday.”

I freeze. “What did I do? Please tell me I didn’t do anything embarrassing. I only remember bits.”

“Uh,” he falters. “Uh well I…I heard. That um, you were dancing and having the time of your life so.”

“Kill me,” I groan.

“That’s not my job.” He jokes but I don’t get it. His smile falls, his brows pinching together. It’s so unlike him.

“I don’t get it.”

“Nothing. Bad joke.”

“Right.” As the time ticks closer to first bell the hall we’re in crowds more with tired teens. “Is that why you stopped by? To ask about making it home?”

“Erm, not really. I guess…was just gonna ask if you were coming to football?”

“Today?”

“Yeah the game after school.��

“Isn’t it early in the season?”

“It is but we’re doing a scrimmage against our ‘favourite frenemies’. It’ll be good. You should come. Your dealer might even be there.”

I ignore the dealer comment. “Are you short a cheerleader Styles?”

The banter pauses as he stares at me and I nearly ask him if he’d hit his head over the weekend when he clears his throat, “Harry.”

“Huh?”

Another pause where he looks like he’s doing quantum physics in his head. “Nevermind.”

What the hell? My skin prickles as heat creeps in.

“So you’re in need of a cheerleader?” I say lamely, just to dial down the intensity. Something had to have happened right? Last thing I remember I had “walked away” with pride but a chipped heart and we’d been polite to each other in school. Suddenly he’s here being boyish and friendly, and I’m here like I skipped a chapter and I’ve got a pop quiz again.

“Are you volunteering?” He asks.

“I forgot my outfit at home. I’ll have to pass altogether.”

I sidestep him and start walking away.

“Wait,” he runs ahead to stop me and gets dirty looks as he intercepts the path of a few students heading to class. “What if I said….I’d like for you to come.”

I stare. Like perhaps he’s grown a second head. Because he sort of has. It was just as pretty but much nicer and it’s sort of terrifying.

Did I cry to him some more? Was he pitying me?

“Why would you say that?” I ask genuinely.

“Well uh, you heard about my playing, I’d like for you to see it.”

“So you need cheerleaders.” I echo.

He searches my face but he must not find what he’s looking for. Something slides across his features that I don’t catch fast enough but it makes my heart skip a beat nonetheless. This casual conversation felt precarious. I needed it to end until I had more context.

I raise my brows and it prompts him to actually respond.

“Nevermind uh that’s alright. I’m sure you’ve got books to read and clubs to conquer right?”

A speck of guilt lodges itself in my throat. “Something like that.”

“Well,” he shrugs. “I had to ask! I’ll just have to find someone who brought their pom poms to school today.”

“Good luck!” I call after him, kind of wishing he wasn’t walking away. But he was. And that’s when I realize why he was lighter. He’d been standing in front of me talking without that ego of his. And openly in front of anyone walking by and he didn’t care. Then I’d rejected him.

Ugh. Maybe I’d have to turn up to that game if I could. But before then I had to try as hard as possible to figure out what the hell happened the other night.

***

“You guys need to tell me what happened Saturday night. As much as you can remember. After that conversation Juni you and me. And I remember going to the loo. And then I remember talking to Harry maybe? Please tell me.”

“Shite.” Both my friends eye each other. “What’s led this on?”

“Harry! He was bring incredibly nice to me today. In public! I feel like something happened but I can’t bloody remember!”

“Well he did drop you home,” Rhia says so casually. I whip towards her and at the same time both Juni and I shout “What!?”

“What!” Rhia says defensively. “I didn’t realize you didn’t remember that part! You seemed pretty sober by then.”

“You totally missed telling that detail that night! How dare you let her go anywhere with that pig! Sober or not!” Juni breathes fire. I’m surprised because on Friday she didn’t hate him this much. What the hell happened Saturday?

“Well she seemed fine. I double checked—YN I doubled checked with you you were okay with that. You told me it was fine. He was just dropping you home and he wasn’t drunk!”

“Wait wait back up. Tell me everything.”

So Rhia tells me how I’d texted her I was leaving with Harry and he was dropping me. How she’d rushed to the front of the house to catch me—and she had. I was alone trying to get my arms through my jacket and failing. She had asked me if everything was okay, I’d told her I was still coming down from the high and Harry was taking me home. How I wanted him to.

Then apparently Harry had shown up with water for me. And Rhia thought that was helpful. She watched, shocked, as he helped me into my jacket one sleeve at a time like I was in preschool. Then she’d got up in his face and had him swear he’d take me right home. Even took down his number in case I stopped responding.

“So was I with him the whole night?” I ask.

Rhia and Juni shrug.

Juni contributes: “Well that girl that hangs out with them—bangs, really big brown eyes? She came up to me when I was alone and asked if I was Juni and she told me you were dancing in this room and you looked a bit sick.”

I groan. Harry had said something about dancing.

“I tried to find you but you disappeared. I was worried and tried to find Rhia but she disappeared!” Juni looks at her with an accusation.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to desert!”

“Yeah well then I got distracted and by the time I went looking for you again this one here told me you’d gone home. She failed to mention who with.”

Rhia rolls her eyes.

I hold my head in my hands. “Guys this is a nightmare. I am having massive regrets. Can regrets give you a hangover? I feel hungover!”

My friends try to reassure me as much as I can but it’s no use. I feel like my life is spinning out again.

As far as the pieces I could put together: after the loo I’d danced and Harry’s friend found me—I think I knew her from when I did swim, maybe her name started with an M? Now that I thought about it I do vaguely remember her asking me a question. Maybe that’s how Harry found me. Because of her. And then he took me home? I hope?

No that was the story I had to go with. Otherwise I would spiral. I repeat it to my friends and they confirm it sounded right-ish.

“But that was sweet of him right? To drop me off home and leave the party early?” I ask my friends.

“Yeah-“ Rhia starts to say but Juni holds her hand out.

“Don’t bloody go there. I forbid that.”

Me and Rhia look at each other. She shrugs and I tell Juni I wouldn’t.

I mull over everything the entire afternoon. Even during the club meeting after school, not really participating and getting asked if I was okay. Obviously I was not.

I do make it to the last half of the game and hope Juni doesn’t find out. It’s just something I feel like I had to do because he had asked so genuinely and I did owe him for taking care of me Saturday.

I find a spot somewhere where I can see and try to spot Harry. It’s not hard when he’s got the ball, legs pumping, headband pushing his curls back and a look of pure determination as he gets to the net and kicks directly….into the goalie’s mitts. The crowd groans.

“Isn’t he defence?” I ask someone beside me.

“It’s a scrimmage game,” they reply. “They play the opposite position for fun. He’s really good though he should be front all the time.”

He is. And it’s kind of…attractive? I understood Dreven’s fangirling. And why Harry was such a big name amongst the girls. I kind of got it now.

Speaking of Dreven I spot him on the sidelines. I shuffle behind someone so he doesn’t spot me.

As the minutes tick by Harry and his team score a few more goals that makes it even. With just a couple minutes left on the clock it’s a tie and everybody shuffles to the side of the field where our team get’s a penalty kick.

I stay with the stragglers on this side, bouncing up and down with adrenaline. I can’t believe I’ve never gone to one of these. I always had some test or club to be busy with. But this is clearly what brought the schools together.

Right before the final whistle Harry makes a perfect shot on goal and the crowd goes absolutely mad. People are shouting and jumping for joy, clutching each other and chanting his name.

Harry runs half the field and pumps his arms, clashing with a few of his teammates who jump around him. It’s funny and cute.

As his team huddles around him and they walk to the chants of our school to the sidelines a couple girls slide out of the edges. A couple go to some of the other boys, one in particular wraps herself around Harry and kisses him with quite the show. The crowd only gets rowdier while the ref blows her whistle.

I, on the other hand, feel emptied.

I watch his arm snake around her waist. Press her to him. Her hands clutching his face. It feels like it goes on for eons. Eons and a day.

When the horrid thing finally ends he lifts his hands to the crowd and they cheer him. Not just for being a winner but for being a womanizer too.

I was an idiot. He had been nice to me, sweetened me up this morning about coming here. That didn’t mean anything. That didn’t mean he actually cared that I was here.

And then the worst part of all. He shouts into the air and turns to his team but his eyes clash with mine as he does. He does a double take, and we stare at each other halfway across the fields. He looks like he’s broken into his mum’s makeup and made makeup soup and his mum’s just come home. I imagine I look like someone’s just turned all my makeup into makeup soup.

I had to get out of here.

Why did I come? Why didn’t i just stay after the meeting and finished up work. I could have gone my entire secondary school existence without ever coming to one of these stupid games.

I feel lower than I have in a long time. I feel homesick suddenly and I decide then it was time to go. Home. And maybe home wasn’t the empty house I was stubbornly staying in. Maybe I had to chuck my hurt and my ego out the window and go crawling back to Nan. She would help me sort this heart of mine out. This wretched thing that kept on going even after it took a beating.

H’s POV:

One moment I’m on top of the world; first game of the year and I’ve scored the winning goal. The next I feel like I’ve been caught red-handed.

I want to tear away from the boys. I want to go to her explain it away but I’m surrounded and I only catch a glimpse of her looking away and then leaving. Gone.

“Hey man where are you going!?” One of the guys asks as I break away. “We’re all going to eat!”

“I’ll meet you guys there! I forgot to do something!”

“Aw cmon!” They hurl words at me trying to get me to stay but I jog away. She’s disappeared.

I jog back to the building and my head swivels every hall I go down as I head towards her locker. I find her slamming it shut and hoisting her bag onto her back.

“Hey!” I finally reach her. “YN hey! I wasn’t expecting you at the game.”

Her mouth opens like she has something to say. I wait for the usual fieryness but she deflates.

“Yeah. Congrats. That was a great final goal. Very dramatic. And you found your cheerleader too. I can see why everyone loves you out there.”

Fuck. She was going back to the other YN, the one who acted like she didn’t care, the one who had stayed out of my league all throughout school.

I wanted the YN in the quiet moments in the dark. The one tucked into my arms with the look of curiosity as she looked into my eyes and right to my soul. Even the confused one from this morning who was hesitant but there was still a possibility I could win her over.

This YN had slammed the door shut.

“It was just for show.” I try to explain.

“The goal?” She squints.

“No. No the-I didn’t need a cheerleader. She wasn’t…it was just for show. After scoring the winning goal it didn’t mean anything-“

“It’s whatever.” She cuts me off. “God you don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“I feel like I do, I didn’t know you were coming. I didn’t invite you just to-“

“Oh my god!” She cuts me off again. “It’s fine! I’m…it’s whatever. It’s not like you’re mine or something. We hooked up like weeks ago, we already talked about all of this. You’re off the hook remember? No messy feelings to complicate our lives, especially mine?”

Yet her eyes water as she says it and she blinks until it’s gone. My heart feels like it’s drowning in those unshed tears. Her words are also the final confirmation; she didn’t remember the weekend. I would just be cursed to remember what we could have been by myself. I probably deserved it.

“I know.” I want to say more. But she shrugs and looks like she’s going to leave. “Look…”

She waits instead. It gives me enough time to rush through every single thing I wanted to say to her. Every promise I wish I could make her.

“I’m sorry.” I say instead. Sorry for kissing that girl, and for inviting her to see that. Sorry for not being able to tell her what I really want to say. Sorry that she was so true about what she said the other night: I don’t think you’re ready for that.

Her lips tighten. Without another words she turns to head out the door. This time I don’t try again. I just watch her and die a little inside.

***

It’s hard to find your flow again when you feel so irrevocably changed. The final 3 months of our final year fly by but as cheesy as it sounds sometimes it felt like one of those 2000s music videos where you’re standing still and everyone is rushing past you.

I still see YN around, and as weeks go by we go back to being in our own worlds. They no longer overlap like a venn diagram. She stops coming to parties and I try not to drive by her house any time I’m in her neighbourhood.

I hear she got asked to the school dance by someone. I carry forward my own stereotype of not committing and ask nobody.

On the outside my grades are still good and I continue to be a force on the field. I’m home more often for dinner and my family stops pestering me as much. When I go to parties I spend more time just hanging out with my mates than I do finding girls that lit a spark. It used to be that any girl could hold a candle to the last ones but now it felt like faking it when a girl whose name I barely remembered tried to seduce me into an empty room.

It’s like now that I’ve felt a true connection I couldn’t go back to just anything. Some days I hated it.

A part of me feels ridiculous because when I Google my symptoms most people just say it’s heartbreak. But how could I feel something like this when I never gave my heart away at all. When I’d kept it selfishly caged and insisted that I couldn’t part with it. Our English teacher had asked when teaching Romeo and Juliet is it better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.

I think I would rather have never loved at all.

***

TAG: @peachedfruit @eversincehs1 @loverofhsandallthings1d (taglist still open lmk)

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles series #high school!harry #ya harry styles #harry styles x you #lyrics #song requests #i am thinking about a pt3 just putting it out there #i think they deserve to grow up a little #i know this was pure angst but hope it was balanced w some sweeter moments #lol

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f1cflcfic · 7 months ago

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The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris) Part VI

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (fem!y/n)

summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy".

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons. also, this chapter contains some (implicit) references to sex.

genre: social media au (with written parts), angst, exes to lovers, happy ending

[A/N: and with this chapter, we come to an end of the Prophecy series! I've got some deleted scenes/bonus content, but other than that... time to say goodbye. I hope you've loved this journey as much as I have, do let me know!]

part i part ii part iii part iv part v

♥･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♥

December 8th, 2026

Second week of December, 2026

[Excerpt from Chicken Shop Date with Y/N L/N & Amelia]

“Are you a romantic?”

“I do – but I’m quite cautious, too. It takes me a while to open myself up to someone else.”

“What’s the most romantic thing someone’s ever done for you?”

Y/N thinks hard, then points at the food in front of them. “I think consistency, actually. Like, I had someone surprise me with my favorite meal every single time after major milestones. I thought it was really nice, especially because when you're tired you just want to spend time together, instead of having to work on putting dinner together for yourselves.”

“Really? You'd rather take-out over a homecooked meal?"

"Knowing your strengths is important in a partner. If you're not the best cook, take-out is the next best thing! And like I said, it's also about time."

"So what you’re saying is going on chicken shop dates is the epitome of romance to you?”

“Exactly,” Y/N says emphatically, pointing a fry at Amelia.

(...)

“Your album is called The Prophecy. Are you very superstitious?”

“Not really, no. But desperate times call for desperate plans. I think things like manifesting can't hurt,” Y/N giggles.

Amelia frowns. “Are you desperate, or are you calling me desperate?”

“Maybe not desperate. Let's go with yearning.”

(...)

“What do you think, is Christmas a good holiday to bring a date to?”

“Hmm , set the scene for me. Is it a friends only party, or family dinner?”

“It’s a dinner party with friends. Would, and should my date be willing to come?”

“Amelia, are you asking me on a second date?”

“Well, no. Maybe? Aren’t you...?”

Y/N blushes. “Let’s be present in the moment!”

“Okay, so tell me – can it be a good second date?”

“I think if you feel super comfortable with them, and you have great friends, the vibe isn’t super formal, then why not? It could be a great trial by fire. Like a new and improved orange peel test.”

“Has someone ever peeled an orange for you?”

“Yes,” Y/N nods. “That’s funny – there is an orange on our table right now.” Camera pans to a Terry’s chocolate orange.

“I’ll peel this one for you,” Y/N offers.

Third week of December, 2026

Last week of December, 2026

January, 2027

[Excerpt from Vogue]

It’s hard to think of the popstar as anything but unflappable, but she assures me there are plenty of moments in which she doubts herself. “I think anyone who craves that recognition at being good at what you do, is going to struggle with the reality of having people see you all the time. As a perfectionist, I wish I could control everything so people’d only ever see my best self all the time. But that’s a pipedream. There’s so many expectations, it can be difficult to figure out which ones were really your own to begin with – and which ones you’ve started to believe because you don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

Indeed, as a female popstar, L/N has had to deal with her fair share of hate online, oftentimes masked as mild concern or constructive criticism from supposed fans. For example, a leaked song earlier this year spurred fans on to comment and speculate about L/N’s ambition – Did she have enough of it? Was she going to give it all up for a man?

L/N’s the first to admit that it’s not entirely unsurprising, given that the song in question includes a lyric describing her willingness to carry the burdens of someone else by herself. “It’s never fun when stuff you chose not to release ends up finding its way to the public after all. There’s a reason I didn’t want it on the album,” she explains. “But in this case, I wrote the song with my friend Louis [Tomlinson] ages ago. We used it as a reference when I started writing in earnest again earlier this year, but that’s all it was meant to be. A reference.”

So why did it become such an obsession to her fans? Well, if one adds a high-profile relationship on top of a high-profile career, that’s a recipe for things to get complicated. The singer’s latest album details her experience with the subsequent public fall-out. While she previously hasn’t spoken much of her relationship with F1 driver Lando Norris and how it influenced her art, she is candid about it now. “I think for the first time, rather than wanting to use songs to capture the great moments, I used songwriting to help me reflect on what could’ve been, what it wasn't, where it went wrong. And in doing so, that also opened the door for me to grow.”

“It’s really painful to have to come to terms with the fact that sometimes love isn’t enough. Especially when in retrospect, there’s much more room for acknowledging how you contributed to the problem. So yeah, by challenging myself to be vulnerable in my art, I also had to put my own hurt and heart out there again. But I think it’s made me a stronger, better person.”

And what of that relationship now? She has a coy smile on her face. “Good, I think, really good. I firmly believe my life is a lot richer when he's in it. So I count myself lucky that I get to have his back and he has mine.”

We are just about wrapping up the interview when her phone lights up with a message from L. It’s a link to an IG reel of dogs being bundled up like tiny burritos. It’s so innocuous, you’d almost forget that the person sending it is a star in his own right.

Celebrities, they’re just like us sometimes.

February, 2027

[Excerpt E! Online Grammy's Red Carpet interview]

"And we're here with the lovely Y/N L/N! Not nominated this year, but a presenter and performer on this night all about music."

"Hiii, thanks for having me!"

"Now tell us, you've had a super exciting year in 2026 - what are you most looking forward to tonight?"

"I'm doing a duet with Miley, which is awesome. I feel so honored they asked me to do this, and I love her so much. She's really one of the iconic voices of this generation, so to stand next to her on that stage? Amazing."

"That's super exciting! The two of you are also both heading on tour, Miley over the summer, you are literally heading out next week. How are you feeling about that?"

"Really good! I'm so excited to see the fans, I've done some shows here and there, but touring life is on another level."

"What else are you looking forward to? Some of your other friends are here tonight, as well, correct?"

Y/N nods. "Yeah, I actually just saw Louis [Tomlinson] arrive - he's nominated tonight so I'll be rooting for him. The Grammy's is always a great moment to catch up with friends as well, so maybe I'm even more excited for the after parties."

"Drink of choice tonight?"

"Probably champagne? Quite like the taste of it, always," Y/N winks at the camera.

March, 2027

April, 2027

FIN.

♥･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡｡.:*･ﾟ♥

You can read the previous parts by going here. Keep an eye out for the bonus content/deleted scenes!

The epilogue is now available here.

♥ likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥

taglist (open) : @charlesgirl16, @linnygirl09, @hoeforsirius, @motorsportloverf1, @sarx164, @idkimbadwithusernamesandstuff, @formulaal, @tvdtw4ever @sadiemack9 @seonghwaexile @screamingwines

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voidsuites · 9 months ago

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WINTER BOT RELEASE !!! (12/6/24) ⌢⠀ ❄️ .ᐟ

art and patrick ・゜゜・．black friday busts. after the two of them were unsuccessful in snagging an extremely-discounted flat-screen for their room in the frat house, art and patrick have yet to stop reminding you of that fact with all of their moping and whining. however, you've managed to get your hands on one— only god knows the lengths you went through to get it— and you're all-too-happy to make both boys' christmas even more special than they'd expected. if only they knew how to reward your kindness and sacrifice...

michael berzatto ・゜゜・．a bear-able holiday. christmas is here once again, carmy's finally home from copenhagen, and mikey's taking it upon himself to play mediator between him and you because heaven forbid his two youngest siblings get along for one night... even if he's still a bit annoyed at carmy for leaving. he's the eldest and the man of the house; someone's gotta make sure their whole christmas dinner doesn't fall apart before food even reaches the dinner table.

richie jerimovich ・゜゜・．precious cargo. it's practically common knowledge that spending the holidays at with the berzattos is bound to end in disarray— donna alone's a ticking time bomb, and there's always someone running their mouth that leads to arguments and fights— but richie's on high alert now that he and you are expecting and you're due within the next few months. he'd almost stuck arould to help mikey calm down after his altercation with lee, but donna driving her sedan through the living room wall changed all of that. he can't have you stressed; not if it means risking baby eva and your health.

steve harrington ・゜゜・．sweater weather. it's finally snowing outside, hawkins is decorated from top-to-bottom with decorations, and steve's taken it upon himself to steal you away for the day to see all the lights... if he can manage to wrangle you away from dustin first). but of course you're quick to freeze, and that just won't do. if it takes him loaning you a sweater and holding your hands the entire time to keep them warm, then that's just what he's going to have to do (and he'd do it happily).

got a request? go ahead and leave em here :) THANK YOU GUYS SO SO MUCH FOR FOR 6K! so ready for christmas, cold weather, fall quarter ending... the holidays never cease to be magical and i really do love this time of year. always thinking of what i'm grateful for and for all of the wonderful people in my life. so mushy (i know) but i just can't help it! lol enjoy these bots... need to get started on my gladiator ii ones ASAP those men have been living rent-free in my head for too long. love u guys sm!!!!!

FYI: this is a part 1 of my winter release; hoping to do a post for steve and for bruce soon! also c.ai shadowbanned my bruce wayne/selina kyle bots so i am going to try and troubleshoot that in the coming days. thank you so much for being patient with me guys i really appreciate it :)

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jedisupernova · 2 months ago

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compress, repress (part iii) — kwon jiyong & choi seunghyun

summary betrayal is irreversible. secrets, in theory, can be kept. but not when cowardice gets in the way.

notes minors dni contains challengers au (for my girls who know: the churro scene, inclusion of 'i told ya' shirt,) fem reader, unabashedly plus size reader as i am myself but anyone can read, takes place in the mid 2000s (hence mentions of certain music, technology, media, etc.), everyone is a college senior, tennisplayer!jiyong and tennisplayer!seunghyun; reader is head of debate team, smut (oral f receiving, p in v, whimpering, sub!seunghyun, pathetic behavior, nipple play, squirting,) angst (all three are at times depicted as not the greatest of people, infidelity, inferiority complex, keeping secrets, severed friendships, deception, greed, lying, yearning, arguments and fights, accidental injury, seunghyun is a shit-stirrer, selfishness, possessiveness, insecurity; this is just messy as fuck,) i don't know anything about professional sports so pls don't laugh at me, if you went to stanford and are reading this no you're not, and inevitable typos though some are intentional.

author's note welcome to part iii of my challengers au!!!! shit is about go Down fr. a brief disclaimer: these are only characters; in no way do i claim either would act this way in real life. please read the previous parts (linked below) or else you will very confused! this is about the same length as part ii (long as fuck) so get comfy. please lmk what you think!! my ask box is always open :) see you next friday for the fourth and final part 🎾

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

were you an overthinker? sure. well . . . it is your most viable asset on the debate stage. sifting through someone’s argument as it actively deflates their lungs, plugging it through various filters and equations in your head—the result being a reliably succinct, a-through-z rebuttal in a matter of a minute. but when alone, and on the train home no less? it's like a parasite, gnawing away at your last bits of logic. you didn’t necessarily regret what you did, but the question of what do i do now? stuck out like a sore thumb, distracting you from scenic views of the distant beaches, houses you’ll never be able to afford, and expansive forests. upon arriving home, you figured you would use winter break as time to not only decompress, but figure things out. piece by piece, day by day—in the solace of your bedroom, in the mundaneness of doing laundry and unpredictable preparing for the holidays—away from stanford. you answered jiyong’s texts with no issues, skirting around your complex feelings with a quick I miss you too ji baby and Gtg shop 4 xmas dinner. calls were trickier, though. it would cause suspicion if you weren’t available to talk whatsoever, so you took one for the team from time to time. the fact you thought of it that way told you everything you needed to know.

much to his fortune, seunghyun figured it out, too. “how’s the missus?” he asked jiyong, eyes casted on perfecting his spoonful of macaroni and cheese, bringing it to his mouth afterward. his tone was casual and unassuming—perfect for christmas dinner at the kwon household, but also amongst two friends just checking in on one another. seunghyun turned his head, hearing their parents banter in the kitchen. jiyong got comfortable next to him on the couch, fingers tugging at the bunched-up hem of his sweater, other hand holding his water. “everything good with you two?” seunghyun’s word choice was diabolical, considering he was nose deep in your pussy a week and same change ago, and he tugged his dick to the memory of it just as santa claus descended down his chimney. “yeah, we’re good.” said jiyong, “we haven’t talked that much lately, though. she’s been busy with, y'know, her family.” seunghyun nodded, listening. ghosts of a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, thinking of how you and him were on the phone just before he got there, and every night since exams ended, too. “makes sense.” said seunghyun. “it is the holiday season, after all.”

“how was dinner, hm?” you asked, lifting your shoulder to keep the house phone to your ear, folding your outfit away from your family dinner. it was around an hour after either of you returned home. seunghyun laid comfortably in his bed, “really good.” he ran his fingers through his hair, arm relaxing behind his head. “food was fuckin’ amazing. how about you, baby?” “mine was good, too.” you closed your closet door, able to hold the phone with your hand now. you sat on the edge of your bed, a sigh escaping your lips, “a little chaotic, but you know how that goes.” he chuckled, nodding. “i do. jiyong told me something real curious, though.” “he did?” “mhm,” seunghyun cleared his throat. “he said you guys haven’t talked in, like, three days? i thought you went to your aunt’s for christmas.” your face warmed, “i mean, i did go there.” “well,” seunghyun’s tone was smooth and playful, smile heard through the phone. “i’m obviously missing a piece of the story, baby. because we’ve been talking for three days straight. what’d you tell him?” “i told him she lives across state lines, meaning a multiple-day road trip with choppy cell service.” “right.” “well, he probably thinks i’m still on the road.” “does your aunt live far?” “she lives four blocks down. walking distance if i’m up for it.”

you heard him snicker. “am i the worst person in the world?” “not worse than me.” he countered, adjusting his grip on his blackberry. “i mean . . . i was the one that asked him about you. i called you 'the missus’ and everything.” an amused scoff left your lips, pinching the bridge of your nose, hiding your smile behind your hand. “we’re horrible people.” “once you accept that, it sets you free.” he told you, a hearty laugh ringing from his chest. he heard your bed creak, your soft and satisfied hmph after settling your head into your pillow molding his lips into an upside down grin. “i miss you, y'know.” he spoke gently. “i can’t wait to see you again.” you smiled sheepishly to yourself, grateful he wasn’t able to see you at that moment. “i miss you too, seunghyun.” “y'know,” his voice brought you back to him. “it was hard for me to keep quiet last night—” “—we are not doing this on my parents’ landline.” you cut him off with a brisk laugh, though your toes curled around nothing atop your duvet.

seunghyun took his phone away from his ear. he rolled the trackball, lighting his screen, seeing it was half past midnight. “it's late enough. they’re probably asleep.” he said, turning onto his side. “plus, it's not my fault you don’t have enough minutes to talk on your cell.” “and it's not my fault you wanna be all whiny about it.” you countered, chuckling. “its serves you right to be told 'no,’ too.” “i like it when it's you.” “i know you do.” something in you knew seunghyun was still in his mood. with how he was getting you there, too, you checked to see if the small screen on the house phone read Conf.—indicating someone was listening to the call. you let out a small breath of relief, reading Talk with the duration of the call underneath—the coast was clear. “y'know,” here he goes, your inner monologue said. “it's a shame we’re apart for so long 'cause i’m forgetting how you taste. might need to go in a second time. or a third. or a fourth. maybe a fifth.” “maybe? just maybe?” you asked, voice smooth. “you were really greedy in your car.” he kissed his teeth, fingers toying with the drawstrings of his sweatpants. “nah, baby.” he kissed his teeth. “i wasn’t greedy enough.”

you let out a sweet laugh, turning to lay on your back. “noted.” you said. “i’ll clear my schedule.” “you better.” he smiled. “i gotta a lot of time to make up for.” comfortable silence washed over the line, landing you somewhere you knew you would get to eventually. “i’m breaking up with jiyong when we get back from break.” you told seunghyun, hearing his hum of acknowledgment. “do you think he’ll take it well?” “yeah.” he answered earnestly, nodding though you couldn’t see him. “maybe not initially. but he’ll be okay.” “what was his last break-up like? if you remember.” “i do.” said seunghyun. “he took it out on the court and didn’t talk about it again. i can’t blame him. things don’t really work out in his favor sometimes.” your chest sunk, hiding your face behind your palm in shame. “this is going to suck so bad.” “its better than stringing him along and fucking his best friend on the side.” “i know but i already—” you cut yourself off with a sharp tsk. cheated on him, your inner monologue finished for you. you couldn’t bring yourself to say it, though seunghyun felt it nonetheless.

“whatever. forget it,” you brushed it off. “what does this mean for us then, hm? don’t make me feel stupid for asking this.” “i would never.” seunghyun shook his head, honest. a smile brightened his features, “i mean . . .” his voice trailed sheepishly, “i thought you already knew.” “i don’t feel like solving one of your riddles right now, seunghyun.” he was quick to clarify, smiling real damn hard now: “like you said in the car, i have a really big crush on you. i hope you have one on me, too.” “we’re seriously doing confessions after you fucked the shit out of me?” “we did it before!” he exclaimed louder than he intended to, face warm and cheeks hurting from his smile. “b-before we—” “—i know, i know.” you chuckled. “i’m just messing with you.”

“do you have a crush on me, though?” “to think,” you tutted playfully. “you’re the same person who talked to me like he takes his third leg on daily walks when we first met.” seunghyun buried his face into his pillow, “just answer the question, baby.” “of course i do. who wouldn’t?” you said. “it means more coming from you.” your heart warmed, “i know it does.” you continued, “you know we can’t tell him, right? at least not yet.” seunghyun’s eyebrows fluttered in and out of a furrow, “so we have to sneak around? in case mommy and daddy catch us?” “i mean, do you want to tell him?” you challenged, met with anticipated silence. “i thought so. let me figure it out.” “okay, okay.” he couldn’t fight his yawn—how long he’d been up for the holiday catching up to him. “i trust you, baby. i’d take it to my grave if you told me to. i feel you reconfiguring my moral compass as we speak.” “i guess that’s just what good pussy does.” “you said it, not me. but you’re more than that, though.” “oh, i forgot—you’re a card-carrying feminist.” “proudly.”

jiyong’s smile didn’t make it easier. he was over the moon to see your beautiful self again, walking into your dorm. his kiss made it all the more apparent: “hey baby,” his tone was so doting it stirred guilt-induced nausea in your chest, feeling his fingers find yours. he pulled you into him, you inhaled sharply through your nostrils, sudden surprise hidden well by his lips molding against yours—remembering right, that’s how boyfriends greet their girlfriends. you tried to distract yourself, kissing him back in a way that earned his hands rubbing your lower back soothingly, humming in satisfaction once his arms made residence around your waist. “how’ve you been, hm?” he asked. “i’ve been good.” “yeah? c'mere.” jiyong re-connected the kiss slowly, nudging his nose against yours sweetly, savoring the moment. your hands traveled up his chest, his head tilting to the left once your palms found either side of his neck, kissing you deeper. despite the bitter voice in his head telling him he was inadequate in other places, nothing held the power to deny him that he knew what the fuck to do with that mouth of his.

he gently parted his lips from yours, doting on your cheek next. you had to stop yourself from leaning back in, compensating by wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, pulling one another into a warm embrace. “i missed you so much. i wish we could’ve spent new year’s together, at least.” “i know, jiyongie.” your fingers combed through his hair, “i missed you too.” “how was the train back?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your soft jawline. “i feel like i haven’t seen you in forever.” “since last year.” you joked, feeling the vibrations of his chuckle against your neck. “since last year.” jiyong affirmed. though it was only the first week of the spring semester—and both yours and jiyong’s final one at stanford—it didn’t mean either of your schedules let up. though coursework hadn’t intensified yet; senior theses were due in a few months time, the collegiate tennis season was kicking into high gear in the coming weeks, and prep for the national debate tournament before spring break was in full-force. not to mention, both you and jiyong had respective practices tonight, too. it never ends.

“the train was okay.” you told him, feeling him hum against you, a sweet kiss left in his path. “long, though. but nice. how about your flight? any turbulence like last time?” “thankfully, no.” jiyong lifted his head, lips pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your nose, eyes meeting yours. “well, i mean—seunghyun and i just slept the entire time. so if it happened, i’d have no idea.” you hated how the mere mention of his name made you panic. “really?” your eyebrows raised as if jiyong’s anecdote was an earth-shattering revelation. “it's tough for me to sleep on transit like that. you’re lucky.” jiyong shrugged his shoulders, oblivious. “i guess growing up traveling for games helped out.” jiyong spent the latter part of your shared afternoon like it was any other day: running his thumb over the back of your hand, telling you what he did over break, and peppering sweet kisses on your temple when you were talking. you, on the other hand, were working against an invisible timer. everything you practiced to say, everything you thought of faded closer to your periphery every time his eyes twinkled in your direction—the same way they’ve always done since you first met. it didn’t feel good, knowing how he’d leave your dorm differently than when he came . . . but it’d be worse if it was way farther down the line, your inner monologue reasoned, it's the least i can do for him. i’ve done enough, already.

jiyong’s face fell. “wh—what?” his voice went quiet. “i-i thought . . . i thought things were going good between us?” “it's just that—i just don’t think i see myself being in a relationship right now. like, i’m just not in the headspace for it.” “is there anything i can do to help?” he rested his hand atop yours, a ghost of a grip on your fingers. “i—i can back off,” he nodded, hoping this was the answer. “give you space.” “i don’t think that’s going to work, jiyong.” your tone was apologetic, sincere—only for him to hear. your hand left his, fingers fixing his hair before your palm settled onto his cheek, thumb tracing his cheekbone dotingly. “i’m sorry.” you whispered. his shuddered breath of defeat wasn’t for the weak. he turned to your touch, trying to hide his face. “it wouldn’t be right to string you along.” you told him, voice gentle. “not with all the love you have to give.” he sniffled, holding his tears in. perhaps he wasn’t thinking clearly, or this was the clearest his brain has ever been—he leaned in, but you didn’t lean away. jiyong kissed you as softly as his unspoken plea. what was he asking for? he didn’t know. forgiveness? if so, then for what? not knowing you didn’t want to be in a relationship when you smiled in a way that made him want to topple empires for you? pity? perhaps it was that, considering how he didn’t hesitate to prod your tongue with his once your hand found the back of his neck—jiyong deepening the kiss.

“please.” he whispered meekly against your lips. “i’ll do anything.” once you felt his hand on your thigh, you took your lips away—pulling out the hard stops, reminding yourself why you invited him over in the first place. “that’s enough.” you spoke definitively. jiyong’s forehead fell against your temple. you kept your composure, “its over, jiyong.” you couldn’t give him another way in, turning your body to face forward, leaving him contactless next to you. you shouldn't have reached to fix his hair, but you and jiyong were over and done with now for sure—especially if you were the one cementing it into place. jiyong was beside himself, “what do i keep doing wrong?” he thought aloud. “i can’t speak for the other people you’ve dated.” you said. “the one’ll find you. its just not me.” jiyong scoffed, albeit weakly: “that’s what you think,” he said. “you haven’t even asked me when i think.” you took him up on his point, looking at him. “okay, then. what do you think?” “that i’m a nice guy who doesn’t deserve shit not working out.” he grumbled bitterly, eyes casted on your duvet. an angry tear fell through the cracks, his fingers hastily wiping it away. there it is. one of the nails in the coffin, you thought to yourself. “and i told you i love you.” “over text.” you clarified, hoping he would see your point. he didn’t: “yeah, but i told you.”

you kept your stance, not in the mood for any additional whining: “you need to be a lot more secure in yourself, jiyong. you have so much going for you, don’t waste your time making yourself the enemy.” you said. “it’ll work out one day. it just happened to not be with me.” he fell silent. you saw his eyes become glossier than before, “we can stay friends if you want.” your apologetic tone returned, though you meant your words. “i do, if it makes you feel any better. we should stay friends.” you corrected yourself. jiyong lifted his head, looking into your eyes. his hurt was palpable, “i don’t think i can stay just friends with you.” he said. your expression faltered slightly. a sympathetic grin graced your features, looking at him in a way that felt like he was the only man in the world. “you need to try.” you told him. “for me.” it took jiyong a moment, but he put his pride aside. he nodded, inhaling through his nostrils, blinking away his stubborn tears. “i will.” he spoke with conviction. “you know i’d do anything for you, right?” “i do,” you looked into his eyes. “that’s the best thing about you, jiyong.” one look at his best friend and seunghyun knew you’d done it. since the universe had a crude sense of humor, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, too: Debate ends at nine. Come over after? he wrote back quickly, putting his phone away after jiyong set his duffle bag down: yeds.

jiyong was quiet. he mumbled something under his breath whilst doing his stretches, inhaling sharply through his nostrils after retrieving his racket from its case. tuning out their teammates dispersed throughout the athletic center’s indoor courts, seunghyun performed his service motion—thwwacckk!—effectively starting jiyong’s round of drills, as they have historically always started with him. the first set focused on his back and forehand swings, hitting the ball back to seunghyun without issue throughout those twenty shots. his recovery step was steady as he ran side to side, zeroed in like he was trying to distract himself from something—which he was. for seunghyun’s turn, jiyong served the ball with such unexpected strength that he had to skirt off to the side, dodging it. he gave jiyong a look: “dude?” “my bad.” jiyong muttered, going to grab another ball without a second thought. “if you’re gonna kill me, might as well tell me why.” seunghyun joked, hoping to lighten the mood. he walked up to the net, beckoning jiyong over with a subtle wave of his hand.

“y'know you can talk to me, ji.” “i know i can, seunghyun.” “it’ll be a waste of practice if you’re pent up like that.” “i know!” jiyong snapped. “okay? i know that. you don’t need to remind me like i’m someone’s dumbass kid.” seunghyun didn’t flinch. he gave jiyong space to breath, to pace around with his hands on his hips—a parallel to their routine bickering growing up; a testament to their respective knowledge of one another’s ticks. though seunghyun knew why jiyong was upset, he had to ask. after all, it was the brotherly thing to do. “talk to me, ji.” jiyong came to a halt, looking up. “we broke up. okay? that’s what happened.” seunghyun’s eyebrows furrowed—in another life, i’d make a good actor—“what? why? i thought things were going okay with you guys?” “that’s what i said.” jiyong shook his head. “but i guess not.” “what’d she say?” seunghyun kept his tone casual. “y'know, when she—” “—she said she couldn’t see herself in a relationship right now.”

seunghyun’s face warmed, “oh.” he nodded. he quickly ran his hand over his face, effectively stifling his amused grin. she and i really aren’t much different after all—“whatever that means. right?” “no, it makes sense.” jiyong countered. “even if i don’t agree with it, i’ve got no choice but to respect it.” “you’ll find someone better, anyway.” “i don’t know about that, man.” with that, jiyong returned to his side of the court without saying another word—his serve much less intense this time, but still holding a hefty bite. he didn’t mention it again, giving seunghyun a polite nod of thanks before heading to the showers after practice ended. the sight of his best friend looking in his eyes flashed before him prior to you opening your door, but it wasn’t strong enough to stop seunghyun from walking inside, and with a smile no less.

he slipped the condom on, tossing the wrapper into the small trash bin lodged beside your desk. you laid on your stomach in your bed—so naturally pretty, but more importantly comfortable—ass over the edge of your bed, feet on the floor; arms crossed on the duvet, your temple resting on your wrists. a long exhale of satisfaction left your nostrils, feeling seunghyun knead either of your beautiful—fucking gorgeous globes. his bottom lip was caught between his teeth, relishing over how his hands—as big as they already were—just barely were able to hold them. he tapped your right one lightly, a sound of approval leaving through his teeth at how your skin recoiled. you weren’t having it: “i know you can do better than that.” he smacked harder, hearing your gasp. you failed to bite back your pleased smile, “that’s more like it.” you giggled sweetly. his hands pushed your shirt up, palms dotingly rubbing your lower back, tenderly cascading over your rolls—carefully watching his fingers run over your stretch marks. he took his sweet time. he hasn’t seen your entire body yet, but he felt lucky from the proximity alone. to think that sculpting was invented to immortalize bodies like hers, he wasn’t sure if he remembered that fact from the art history gen-ed he took his freshman year correctly. but as far as he was concerned, it was the whole truth and nothing but. shit, i’d go to war for and build temples for her, too . . .

“i can still smell ji’s cologne in here, yknow.” “yeah?” “yeah,” seunghyun leaned down. he nudged his nose against your temple, wordlessly asking for you to turn your head towards him; another silent plea in his chaste kiss. you obliged, feeling his lips linger before kissing yours. his breath was warm against your pores, “needed me that badly, huh?” “don’t get too proud.” you said casually. you backed up an inch, hearing his breath hitch, your ass pushing against him. “f-fuck…” he sputtered, tightening his grip on your hips. “you forget how to spell words when you get all excited.” you referred to his typo from earlier. you felt and heard seunghyun chuckle into the back of your neck, coinciding with your sweet laughter. “i think i still have his hat.” you thought aloud. “for real?” said seunghyun. “mhm.” you hummed. “in the closet, maybe. on the top shelf?” seunghyun walked to the other side of your dorm, pulling the doors of your closet open. he peered up at the top shelf, smirking upon spotting the stanford tennis baseball cap lodged on top of a folded sweater.

you heard him walk back, though you didn’t feel him return behind you. you looked over your shoulder, “where did you—oh.” seunghyun was stood in front of the mirror mounted above your dresser, adjusting the cap to sit backwards on his head. “you’re horrible.” “you’re not telling me to take it off, though.” he pointed out coolly. you were stubborn, “you’re still horrible.” “you are, too.” he countered. his body warmth returned behind you, palms fondling either side of your lush waist. he leaned down to your ear, “'cause you don’t want me to talk it off, right?” it was quiet, but he heard your breath shake. “you’ve made me an honest man, so i’ll tell you that i don’t wanna take it off. is that okay with you? yeah, baby?” “yes.” you swallowed, eyes fluttering closed, mindlessly pushing your temple against his mouth. seunghyun obliged, pressing a kiss. “better fuck me like you deserve it, though.” you told him lowly. seunghyun smacked your left globe hard and unabashed, earning a hum of approval from you. “i will.” he said. he held the base of his cock, pushing his tip between your puffy lips. “you better tell me if something’s wrong.” “you’re always so self-referential.” you giggled—quickly humbled by his slow, yet delectable stretching of you out.

you spread your feet apart, allotting additional room for him, but also for you to settle in more comfortably. seunghyun caught on, “that—that better for you?” he asked, licking his lips, trying to keep his senses tangible through your gummy walls gradually swallowing him. he heard you hum in response, “push my back down. just a little,” he listened diligently, palm pressing your lower back. “maybe he can get you deeper—a-ah!” you gasped sharply. seunghyun was entirely inside, and in fact, deeper. he was completely still, trying to catch his own breath. your moan wasn’t helping. “o-oh fuck!” you whimpered in utmost satisfaction. your muscles relaxed yet you couldn't—your unsolicited wriggling sending fragmented words to his throat, resulting in a wince turned cough. “this is j-just what i—fuck!—this is just what i fucking needed, holy shit.” you bit your bottom lip, sitting up on your elbows. you turned your head, eyes peering at him in your periphery. “this alone would’ve made you a m-mom if it weren’t for the c-condom—sh-shit. . .” his licked his lips, eyebrows furrowed whilst his throat deflated into an impaired, withering whimper. “can i move? fuck, h-how are you so—” “y-yeah—yes.”

seunghyun was fighting for his life. his grip on your hips and sound of his pelvis clapping against your ass would argue otherwise—but the look on his face? with every thrust, his mouth fell more stupidly; head cocked back, visor of the baseball cap rubbing against his neck. his rhythm was consistent—purposefully egged on by your cries of pleasure and breathy encouragements, albeit fragmented from just how fucking good he was fucking you. “this is—this is j-just what i needed, s-seunghyun—ngh!” you never thought in a million years your voice could reach the pitch it just did. but with seunghyun in the picture, it felt as if anything was possible at this point. you bit your lip, taking whatever he gave you with warm welcome, not complaining whatsoever over being spoiled rotten—like you fucking deserve. “o-oh fuck!” was all he was able to conjure, slowly looking down at the scene before him. his eyebrows furrowed, breathing through his mouth, face contorting into one of pathetic sin.

his hips were relentless and strong; the athleticism on full display—watching and feeling your cheeks bounce like water in his palms. “oh fuck!” he prolonged his syllables, voice cracking. “oh f-fuck, baby—” he stopped to re-adjust himself, widening his stance to swiftly lean down to your temple, resuming his intoxicating pace soon after. you gasped, hand instinctively going into his hair, knocking the hat off his head and onto the duvet, keeping him close to you. he kissed the end of your cheekbone, lips staying there whilst he fucked you in the way you liked. “y-you’re so fucking deep,” you told him. your lips parted, eyebrows furrowed deeply and eyes squeezed shut, “feels so fucking g-good.” “oh yeah? am i?” his voice was low. the shakiness in his tone was telling, “do you—o-oh fuck yeah!” he cried out vulnerably, hips stuttering when you clenched around him. he thrusted back in hard, gifting him your relaxed posture and shaky hum of approval—melting into your libido. seunghyun leaned forward some more, hoping his next move wouldn’t strain your neck. “come here,” he pleaded. his hand came to your cheek, turning your head, meeting his lips with ease. he kept your lips together as he pounded into you again, internalizing the sound of your voice breaking against his. at some point, you couldn’t retain focus anymore: “oh f-fuck!” you cried out. “just like that seunghyunnie, just like that—” your wall-shattering gasp startled your hallmate walking past your door, laundry basket in hand, sheepishly scurrying away upon realizing you weren’t in danger whatsoever.

january and february went by faster than expected. it was the rhythmic hustle: wake up, go to class, bury your head in either your laptop screen and lined notebook paper, sleep—repeat. your senior thesis was coming along well, preparation for the national debate tournament in san francisco was steady, and you and seunghyun were practically undetectable. on days where your respective schedules aligned, he set up shop on the carpet beside your bed, solving equations and whatever the fuck for his coursework with nothing but grid notebook paper and his mechanical pencil like it was nobody’s business. perhaps it was adaptability on the tennis court manifesting in other areas of his life, because he was able to study coherently just about anywhere. the only non-negotiable was his ipod nano his parents got him for christmas—wired headphones playing either frank sinatra or wu-tang clan; there never was an in-between, mostly. he got up after a few hours, stretching his arms generously over his head. he took the two strides to your desk, gently ushering you out of your concentrative bubble with a hand on your shoulder, dotingly rubbing down your back when you turned to him with a quiet “hm?” “m'getting panera for dinner.” he said. he leaned down, lips finding your temple before your cheek. “what do you want, hm? you need to take a break.”

when you were over at seunghyun’s apartment, he cleared his desk for you in his bedroom. if he didn’t have a roommate, he would’ve made a key for you to come and go as you please. you lodged there for however long you needed: writing your senior thesis, tweaking outlines of affirmative and negative arguments written by your teammates, answering emails—anything. seunghyun learned the pacing of your schedule relatively quickly, often manifesting in keeping track of the time for you. you were twelve pages deep in an assigned reading, keen on starting its accompanying assignment after the debate meeting this evening. seunghyun returned from the kitchen, knocking on his open bedroom door, “baby?” you looked up from your highlighter. “it’s 6:45. you’ll be late if we don’t leave now.” “shit, really? okay, give me a minute.” you stood from his desk chair, packing your laptop and other materials up. when you slung the left backpack strap over your shoulder, you froze. “oh my god.” seunghyun’s face dropped a little, seeing the look on your face. he walked over, taking your backpack from you, carrying it himself. “what? is everything okay?” “i almost forgot.” you looked at him. “we start drills this weekend.” “drills?” “we—we sort ourselves into pairs,” you walked out of his bedroom, him following closely behind. “and we’re randomly assigned either the affirmative or negative for a case, and we debate each other.” you explained, pushing your feet into your shoes. “there's—there’s logistics involved. i was supposed to plan it today.”

seunghyun was quick to reassure: “it’s okay,” he unlocked the front door, ushering you to lead the way to the elevator. “you have time to do it tomorrow— even with your presentation for democratic theory.” he said before you could counter. “you can do it. i know you.” he opened the passenger’s door for you, safely tucking your backpack away in the backseat. he put his key into the ignition, backing out of his usual parking spot at his apartment complex, “the world doesn’t have shit on you, y'know.” as time went by, seunghyun wasn’t necessarily worried about your anticipated telling of jiyong. he wholeheartedly meant it when he said he trusted you completely—if i’m lucky to enough to be loved by the divine feminine herself, then i’m more than fortunate enough to trust her—and he’d rather pull his hair out one by one than be the one to tell him. on top of that, you didn’t give off the vibe of playing in his face. your stress-induced under eye bags from your workload said enough. after all, who was he to take initiative after the job’s already been taken? to his fortune, anyway, he was too busy being in love to give it much thought. he was willing to take your shared secrecy to the grave. call it delusion or devotion—he was serious. all he needed was your voice of reason to bicker with and your pussy to eat, and he’ll die a happy man.

though it was an impending eventuality, the messier side of seunghyun couldn’t help the question: does jiyong need to know? like, does he need to know that when he waved to jiyong as he did his warm-ups before practice, the reason why seunghyun was blinking so hard was because you sucked his dick so good he was trying to clear his vision even a half hour later? does jiyong need to know why seunghyun’s developed a habit of tugging at the hem of his shirt, because he so often fixes yours when the fabric bunches between the bottom of your back and top of your ass? or when he’s nervous—like before his singles game against ucla—he’s started pacing in the locker room, mentally reviewing his planned plays whilst mindlessly rubbing the tip of his ear, because that’s how you’ve lulled him to sleep before? and does he really need to know that when he invited jiyong over for dinner to catch up after a hectic start-of-the-semester apart, you were in the same chair as jiyong a couple nights ago, offering to settle a petty dispute over who got the last can of coca-cola through rock-paper-scissors? or how about twenty feet away in seunghyun’s bedroom, where he fingered your stress away that same night, telling you he loves you whilst you bless his hand with splashes of your divineness? nah, jiyong didn’t need to know shit . . .

much to your delightful surprise, you and jiyong remained friends. or were at least friendly. you saw him after picking up your bagel and iced coffee up at coho’s, unable to properly say hello as you woke up late that morning, allotting less than ten minutes to head to your democratic theory lecture a couple blocks down, but traded polite grins from across the café nonetheless. you ran into one another on your walk back to your residential building—a care package sent by your parents in your hands, having picked it up at your commons. the expected “how’ve you been?” was exchanged. the conversation was admittedly light, but when you felt the time pass, there was a bit more speed in your step after your amicable “have a good weekend,” because unbeknownst to jiyong, you were ten minutes late for meeting with seunghyun in his car to go out for dinner off campus. you quickly dropped the package off in your dorm, settling into the passenger’s seat with a huff, “sorry i’m late.” “you’re good.” said seunghyun, waving the remainder of cigarette smoke out of his open window. he reached down, spinning the crank to put the window up. “still have some time before our reservation, anyway. hey,” he beckoned. “c'mere.” you looked at him, realizing what he meant. “oh, right. sorry.” your hands held either side of his face. “hi.” you said, leaning in. “hi.” he repeated, an amused grin tugging at the corners of his lips. you closed the gap. seunghyun re-connected the kiss. from the breath of relief leaving your nostrils, he could tell it was needed.

“busy day?” “oh god—i don’t even wanna talk about it.” you shook your head. “to think, nationals in a month and a half.” you thought aloud. “and all the shit i have to do in-between and afterward.” “you’ll do it. i know you can.” “i will. but barely.” you countered. “but how about you? how was your day? did your thesis meeting with your professor go okay?” “way better than i expected. there’s not a whole bunch of edits to make, finally. for once, y'know?” said seunghyun, putting his car into drive. “really?” you put on your seatbelt. “thats wonderful, baby. i’m proud of you.” “thank you. m'proud of you, too.” he looked into the rearview mirror, spotting himself whilst backing out of the parking spot. once done, he glanced at you. “but you already knew that.” he smiled. “i know.” you grinned. “y'know i just saw jiyong? he was walking around here.” “really?” seunghyun merged into traffic, “what’s he around here for?” you shrugged your shoulders, “i don’t know. i mean, what’re you around here for?” you quipped, upside-down grin molding your lips at his playfully annoyed expression. “that’s different.” he said. “i know, i know.” you chuckled. you relaxed into your seat, looking out the windshield. “he looks like he’s doing okay.” you said. “can you attest to that?”

seunghyun nodded, his eyes on the road. “yeah.” he answered. “it doesn’t seem to, y'know, completely consume him anymore. then again, i don’t live with his brain. but still. he’s better than he was.” you hummed in acknowledgement, reading the license plates of the cars driving in front of you. “that’s good. i told him about nationals before spring break. he invited me to your match on sunday with ucla.” the car came to gradual halt, stopping at the red traffic light. “i’m guessing you said yes?” “i said i’d think about it.” you clarified, seunghyun nodding in your periphery. “but it's basically a yes.” he couldn’t help his smile, leaning his head against his seat. “you gonna wear his hat like last time?” you gave him a look, unable to hide your amusement. “look at you, stirring the pot. and what if i did?” “then i’ll have to gear up to be the best man at your guys’ wedding.” seunghyun laughed. he laughed harder when you kissed your teeth disapprovingly, “oh hell no. fuck that.” you ran your hand over your face, feeling the car move again. “but i’m coming. at two, right?” “mhm.” seunghyun confirmed. “it's about time you see your boyfriend play, anyway.” “my two boyfriends.” you muttered, grinning sweetly hearing his laughter. “yeah,” seunghyun smiled grandly, playing into the joke. “your two proud boyfriends.”

the world split into two in march 2006—one being you, lodged in a hotel room in san francisco for the weekend, going back and forth between your teammates’ rooms to review arguments and strategies before heading to the convention center where nationals were held; the other housing seunghyun and jiyong in an almost empty snack bar on campus, cheeks flushed after an intense doubles match against uc irvine. though it wasn’t unfamiliar, either of their bodies felt the weight of their intensified regiment—both seunghyun and jiyong having played grueling singles matches earlier in the week, with another scheduled right before spring break. seunghyun sat in front of the windows in the snack bar, staring at his phone in his lap: Good luck today baby I love you so much he read his text for the nth time, but not as much as your response: I love you too!! good luck w irvine:) Call u tonight muah. jiyong came over with churros in both hands, seeing seunghyun on his phone. he put it away casually before anything could be seen, though what jiyong asked gave him a slight heart attack: “meet someone new?” he handed seunghyun a churro, sitting down in the stool next to him. seunghyun accepted, turning around and placing his elbows on the table behind them. “what? oh. nah.” he shook his head. he took a bite of his churro, other hand wiping the sugar grains from the corner of his mouth. “just something about my study group this weekend.” “oh, yeah. you did mention your midterm earlier.” jiyong thought aloud, nodding.

they talked as they usually did. jiyong turned around, resting his elbows like seunghyun. it was when he reached up to scratch an itch on his eyebrow did his expression suddenly sour. “shit,” he cursed under his breath—a slight stinging sensation on his temple. “you good?” seunghyun asked. “yeah, i think—i think i got sunburned.” jiyong’s fingers gingerly felt his forehead. his skin was irritated, confirming his suspicions. seunghyun took a bite of his churro before leaning in to get a better look, “doesn’t look too red.” he observed. “did you put on enough sunblock?” “i did, but i guess the humidity fucked me over today.” said jiyong, hearing seunghyun hum in acknowledgement. “doesn’t feel too bad, though.” jiyong muttered. “aloe vera’ll fix it up. i need my hat back.” “back?” seunghyun knew damn well, but he would be remiss to not keep himself in the safe zone—though the memory of your cheeks clapping made him adjust his posture in his seat. “did you lose it? that shit was glued to your head, man.” he chuckled. jiyong finished his churro, dusting his hands off underneath the table. “i left it with her.” he spoke in-between chewing. “you think i could get it back?” “sure.” seunghyun nodded, a grin tugging at his mouth. “if you ask nicely, of course.”

jiyong tried to give seunghyun a look, but his smile betrayed him. “very funny. ha-ha.” he chuckled. jiyong felt leftover sugar on his hand, shoving seunghyun’s face with his palm. seunghyun let out a hearty laugh, carefully wiping his cheek after finishing his churro. “y'know,” jiyong started. “i’ve been thinking.” “uh-oh.” seunghyun quipped, smiling at jiyong’s tsk of annoyance. “shut up,” said jiyong. “but for real. y'know how we have our—our end of season banquet, right?” “right.” jiyong fell silent, suddenly overcome with sheepishness. “you’re gonna have to spit it out at some point, ji.” “i know, i know.” jiyong shook his head, trying to level himself. “its just that—” he sighed. “maybe this is just pathetic of me to say. but i was thinking of inviting her.” seunghyun didn’t question it. he wanted to know more. “like as a plus one?” “yeah. i think the registry’s still open.” jiyong responded so quickly it was as if he cut seunghyun off. he looked at him, worried. his next question cemented it: “that's weird, right?” “was it weird when she came to our game against ucla?” seunghyun asked. jiyong shook his head, “no.” he answered earnestly. “but i did spent the entire time wishing we were still together, though.” seunghyun smiled proudly, putting his arm around jiyong’s shoulders. “you fucking snake.” he said. “i didn’t know you had it in you.” this’ll be fun, his inner monologue voiced. jiyong was visibly confused, yet his half-smile contradicted himself. “what? have what in me?”

“it's exciting seeing you this way, ji.” said seunghyun. “and no, i don’t think its weird, personally.” “i’m not—” jiyong went to say something, but seunghyun talked over him—committed to the bit. “its what’s been missing from your tennis.” “what?” seunghyun’s arm returned to his side, “it's nice to see you lit-up about something. even if that something’s your ex-girlfriend. you said she wanted to be friends when you broke up, right?” after he shoved his tongue down his throat, she did seunghyun’s inner monologue reminded him, remembering your play-by-play of what went down. jiyong nodded, “yeah, she did. but i don’t know if this is too forward or something.” “nah, not at all.” seunghyun shook his head. he jutted his bottom lip—perhaps too animated—but with how jiyong looked genuinely concerned, he flew right under the radar. “you don’t think i’m crazy?” jiyong asked, vulnerable. seunghyun’s face dropped a little, recognizing the look in his best friend’s eyes. the lingering hurt—the yearning. jiyong wasn’t over you. it didn’t look like he would be anytime soon. seunghyun could only say so much, having to hold himself back from the protective jealousy stirring in his chest, choosing his words carefully: “it's not considered crazy to be in love, ji.” unbeknownst to jiyong, seunghyun speaking for himself: “it's not crazy to want someone, either.”

the tournament wasn’t a sweep though stanford placed highly nonetheless. you celebrated with dinner and drinks at the end of that long weekend—delightfully surprised after your teammates prepared a graduation gift for their president, along with sentimental speeches that might’ve (just might’ve) made your eyes misty with gratitude. you hid it well behind your margarita, anyway. you walked into your hotel room at half past eleven that sunday night. packing would be rushed in the morning before boarding the bus back to stanford—for now, you just needed the quiet. you kicked your loafers off, set your gift bag down by the television, sitting on the edge of your unmade hotel bed. you leaned to your right, raising your left thigh, fishing your sidekick out of the back pocket of your black dress trousers—too tired to change out of your debate garb just yet. it's not too late, you thought to yourself. seunghyun’s definitely still awake. you scrolled through your notifications, seeing a few texts here and there, eyebrows furrowing seeing a missed call from jiyong a couple hours ago. “huh?” there was a voicemail from him, too. you pressed play, bringing your phone to your ear.

you heard a bicycle bell, followed by the skid of his sneakers against the sidewalk. “hi! this is—uh, this is jiyong,” his pause told you he didn’t know why he said his name. “i hope you've—i hope you’ve been doing good. i wanted to call to wish you good luck at your debate comp. i saw a flyer about it at coho’s, but i wasn’t sure of the time. i hope i didn’t call you when you were on stage or something. that would be really bad,” he chuckled nervously. “a-anyway,” he cleared his throat. “i’m calling ‘cause there’s this—there’s this thing we have in tennis. at the end of the season. well, a lot of if not all the athletic departments do it—but it's a seasonal banquet. there’s, like, food and awards and shit but i was wondering if . . . if—uh, if you’d want to come? it's on june 3rd—the sunday before graduation. totally no pressure. there’s lots of room for plus ones, so don’t worry about that if you want to come. people do it all the time. my parents won’t be able to come out here until graduation, so it’d be nice to have someone i know there. besides seunghyun. we'd—we’d go as friends, of course. i—i get it if you think its weird,” he descended into a characteristic ramble. “i mean, i would too. maybe. but i asked seunghyun about it,” your eyebrows raised. “and he didn't—he didn’t think it was odd. but of course what matters most is what you want. so, let me know? if you—if you want? yeah. you have—you have my number. i hope your comp went well.”

well that was something, you thought to yourself. it seemed relatively harmless, though you just knew seunghyun had something to do with this. he was mentioned twice, you recalled, what a fucking deviant. you didn’t think about your decision too much. you listened to your gut, noticing how there wasn’t a tug towards desired safety, nor the toxic nip of curiosity to just see what happens. your logic perhaps voiced the concern of this not being one of your best decisions … but if anything, the greedy part of your brain took to the frontlines: who wouldn’t want free food and two fine ass men feigning over you in silence? you turned your sidekick horizontally, lifting the screen to reveal the tactile keyboard. jiyong’s nokia vibrated in his pocket, showing seunghyun his screen with glee. “she said yes!” he exclaimed. if he didn’t know any better, seunghyun would’ve thought jiyong proposed. “for real?” he leaned forward, reading Hi! I got your voicemail. I’d love to go :) Send me details. he smirked, “you asked her over voicemail?” jiyong was quick to defend himself, “she didn’t answer her phone.” seunghyun chuckled, swiftly pulling his phone out. you received a slew of texts, one after the other: At jis do pnot call; i will call u latyer; How ur day; I lov youp. you smirked at your screen. seunghyun’s phone buzzed in his hand a minute later, having to control his warming face whilst jiyong ordered the pizza: You’re not slick. I love you more

the closer it got to graduation, the closer you came to the brink. those deadlines were horrendous, making you choose between completing coursework or up-keeping personal hygiene on particularly rough days. debate and graduation prep on your end were done. all that was left was perfecting and submitting your senior thesis, finishing those last few assignments that just happened to be dense as fuck, and preparing for finals. it took a toll on you. after the third day of falling off the face of the earth after the usual Good morning text, seunghyun had enough, too. there was enough on his plate already as a collegiate athlete: consistent games, demanding physical regiment, initiating the transition to go pro—coupled with his own academic pursuits. but if he’s learned anything these last five months, it's that there’s always room for you. no matter what. your phone dinged! at the library, startling you and eliciting disapproving looks from others deep in their studies. you turned your ringer off, reading the text from seunghyun. you had only just realized it was well past midnight, Baby u still at the library? Yes, you wrote back, A lot to do. your phone vibrated a minute later, Youve been there way too much. Its worrying me. you smirked at your screen, Didnt know u were so charitable. only for him to respond, Im being serious.

when twenty minutes went by with no answer, seunghyun called you. it didn’t take him long to pick up his keys after being sent to voicemail, taking the elevator down to his apartment building’s parking lot. an hour and some change later, at around half past one, the head librarian on your floor came on the sound system, announcing the library would be closing in a half hour. you checked the time on your phone, seeing a text from seunghyun: Librarys closing soon. you typed back, I know. Heading home now. seunghyun spotted you walking out of the front entrance. thank god she chose that one, his inner monologue muttered. he left his seat on the bench, “baby?” he called out, jogging over to you. you weren’t sure if it was the sleep deprivation playing a trick on you, slowly turning around and seeing the voice certainly matched who you thought it belonged to. your eyebrows furrowed: “what?” you muttered in a bit of disbelief. “what—what’re you doing here? it's almost two am.” “i could say the same to you.” he said. his hand came up to your cheek, bending down to kiss the other. “where’re you going?” “my dorm?” you said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “but you need to relax.” “i can relax in my dorm.” seunghyun loved your stubbornness as it often complemented his, but in times like these, he felt like he played the role of a husband: “nah, nah.” he tutted, shaking his head through your disapproving tsk. “look at me, baby. c'mere.” he leaned down, softly pressing his lips against yours—satisfied in feeling you kiss him back, even more so when your hands came up to hold his face in your palms.

seunghyun ended the kiss just as gently as he started it, resting his forehead against yours. “it's been a week since i last saw you.” he spoke lowly. “i miss you real bad, baby.” he didn’t need you to tell him you missed him, too. he felt it in how you aligned your nose to nuzzle next to his—in how your breath from your parted lips breathed life back into him, your touch behind his neck so poetically familiar. “fine.” you told him definitively. “but you better have something to eat. i haven’t had dinner yet.” and he did. well, as far as kraft mac and cheese and reheated ready-made garlic bread can go. he gave you a pair of his briefs (“don’t look at me like that—they’re freshly washed. probably still warm from the dryer. plus, you’ve had my dick inside you. so it's not that much different.”) and a loose-fitting tee as makeshift pajamas. the shirt was too snug of a fit to your liking to sleep in, so you opted just to stay in your cami. not that seunghyun was complaining whatsoever—there was a sweet grin on his face as he tucked himself into bed next to, over-the-moon to knock the fuck out next to you after a long ass day.

you weren’t sure if it was the white noise of the air-conditioning, the darkness of seunghyun’s bedroom, your head hitting the pillow next to his, or how tenderly he wrapped his arms around you underneath his duvet, dotingly loving you with his warmth—but you were brought to tears; overwhelmed by how much had been on your shoulders these past few months, this week being the absolute worst without question. it felt now that your mind finally had a moment in the quiet, it took the opportunity to remind you where you are. it didn’t feel good. it felt malicious. enough to turn your face and sink into your pillow in shame, body trembling whilst you cried. seunghyun sprung into action: lifting his head up from his pillow, making out your silhouette in the dark. “hey,” he called softly, afraid to speak above a whisper. “baby—hey. hey,” his lips found the back of your shoulder. he heard your muffled cries, “oh no.” he tutted gently, sympathetic. “oh no, my baby. c'mere. at least let me hold you.” you slowly turned into his chest, grateful he couldn’t see your face in the dark. his palm found the back of your head, bringing your forehead to his lips. “what's going on, hm?” how tender his voice was just made you cry harder. you tried to get yourself together. “tell me, baby. i’ve never seen you like this before. it hurts.” “i’m fine.” you cleared your throat, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand. “i guess—i guess once i, like, settled down or whatever,” you sniffled. “my brain just . . . i don’t know . . . reminded me of how crazy everything’s been.”

seunghyun hummed in understanding. “i just don’t know how—” you cut yourself off, trying to abstain from crying again. you failed, feeling your sinus loosen and bottom lip quiver, “i just don’t know how i’m gonna do it all, seunghyun.” he held you tighter to him, feeling your muffled sob into his shirt. “you will.” he assured, lips kissing your temple. “you’ve made it this far. there’s no reason for you to not go farther. you’re the smartest person i’ve fucking ever met, you know that? hm?” his hand rubbed soothingly up and down your back, leaning down to press kisses onto your shoulder. “you talk your shit in circles around me daily.” he chuckled. you felt him smile into the supple, plush skin of your arm. you took a few deep inhales, trying to steady your heartbeat. “i’m not usually like this.” you muttered. “doesn’t matter if you cry everyday or not at all.” he said. “however you feel is human.” “i’ve never seen you cry.” “not yet.” countered seunghyun, lips returning to your forehead. his fingers swept your cheeks, collecting remnants of your fallen tears. “if i think about it long enough,” he whispered to you. “you crying’ll make me cry.” his words struck a chord in you, loosening your sinuses for a different reason. you reached for his temple, fingers combing through his hair, pulling him to your lips. “i love you.” your voice quivered in its whisper. “tenderly.” “i love you tenderly too, baby.” he reconnected your lips, “my baby. my beautiful baby.”

seunghyun’s senses awoke to his bladder intruding his rem cycle. his haphazard glance into the kitchen, eyeing the time on the stove, let him know it was half past seven in the morning. returning to his bedroom, he was met with an unwelcome surprise. you were up and out of bed, already dressed in your clothes from the night before, packing your backpack at his desk. “what’re you doing?” he mumbled, voice riddled with lingering sleep. “it's so early.” “the library opens soon—” you cut yourself off with a yawn, putting your laptop in its sleeve. “i have to go.” “you were just crying about being there, like, five hours ago, baby.” “crying doesn’t make it disappear, now does it?” you responded without looking up, sifting through the other pockets of your backpack to ensure you had everything you needed—mentally writing a to-do list for the day. seunghyun walked up behind you, fixing your shirt before sneaking his hand underneath the hem, warm palm settling onto your hip. “c'mon, baby. just stay for a little while.” “seunghyun, i have a—” “—an hour or two won’t hurt, y'know.” he said. he leaned down—pressing slow, purposeful kisses on your neck. satisfied chills ran down your spine. you actively tried to fight your fluttering eyes, or how your knees buckled slightly. but then seunghyun’s hand traveled past your stomach, gingerly kneading your breast through your cami. he knows every fucking thing about me, your inner monologue tsked.

your hand reached for his hair, feeling him hum against your supple skin in approval. “that’s right.” he encouraged. “feel me here with you—just like that.” he ushered you to his bed, telling you to “get comfortable f'me. it's gonna be a while, baby.” seunghyun unbuttoned your jeans, tugged your underwear off too, tossing both onto his carpeted floor. you spread your legs like muscle memory, watching him kiss down your inner thigh—taking his sweet, dedicated time with his favorite part of your plushness. his lips were slow on that soft pouch, cheeks relishing in how warm you felt against him. “so fucking beautiful, baby,” he whispered, inching closer to where you needed him the most, and where he wanted to be. “pussy’s fucking divine.” he ate you out like never before, rendering you speechless. his tongue did all the work, mouth latching onto those sweet, puffy lips of yours. his ministrations were slow and deliberate, making sure you felt every flick of his tongue against your clit, every swipe when he flattened it against you, every lap when he got greedy—or most importantly, his muffled whines whenever you tugged his hair. “f-fuck,” he sputtered into you, trying to re-focus on sucking your clit. “f-fuck, baby”. at some point, you were frozen—legs cemented in a spread, helpless to how good you felt. your eyes were closed, mouth hung open, so caught up in the pleasure you forgot to arch your back. it was as if your body didn’t know what to do, only able to speak in a language of light whimpers and broken whispers of your boyfriend’s name—one hand curled around nothing, the other now lifeless in his hair.

seunghyun slurped and suckled in content, ready to do this all fucking day if need-be. he took his sweet time, relishing in your sweet whimpers, humming in satisfaction the wetter you became, making sure you heard him swallow whenever he came up for a breath. it felt good to know his baby felt good and that he was the one doing it. he missed the feeling of your thick thighs clenching around his head, though. even so, he deduced you felt so good you couldn’t move. i know thats fucking right, his inner monologue commended. “i don’t take this for granted.” he said between lapping your clit. “i know how lucky i am. m’gonna start praying to this pussy if that’s what it takes.” your breath hitched suddenly and loudly. your toes curled into his duvet, hips bucking up unexpectedly, unintentionally making him latch off. before you could rush a hazy apology, he beat you to it: “its okay, its okay.” his voice was quiet—tender. you let out a prolonged whimper, effectively wordless—just needing him. you can’t remember the last time you felt so loved, so cared for, doted on in such a vulnerable state. “i got you.” his palms rubbed your thighs, the divots and crevices of your divine cellulite making love to his fingers. he felt up your bare stomach, sneaking underneath your cami, fingers etching over stretch marks—cascading down your supple rolls before returning to your thighs. “seunghyun’s got you, baby. relax for me.” he kissed your inner thigh. “relax f'me. lemme make love to you.”

you regained consciousness when you came, back arching into damn near oblivion. “fuck!” your voice broke. you let out an airy cry, unable to conjure something more guttural—too enraptured in your dream-like state. you felt a dip in the bed, grounded by a kiss to your cheek. seunghyun hovered above you, hands propping him up. “i love you, baby.” he told you sweetly, a second kiss inching closer to your mouth. “i love you, too.” your voice was almost non-existent, staying in a whisper, as if your subconscious was afraid that if you spoke too loudly, your sanctuary would be disturbed. your hand slipped up the side of his neck, bringing his lips to yours. “you bring me back to life . . .” you said breathily, inhaling through your nostrils. seunghyun’s open mouth hovered above yours hungrily, whimpering into the kiss at your words. he was annoyingly hard in his boxers, but stayed kissing you ever so slowly—at your pace. you could’ve sworn you felt the warmth of the sun when his tongue prodded yours, kissing him with increased fervor—your strength returning. “you’ve changed my life for the better.” he muttered against your lips. you whimpered, seunghyun tilting his head to deepen the kiss in return. “the least i can do is take care of you. right? yeah?” “mhm.” you hummed, keeping him tethered to you. “good.” he gradually separated your lips, satisfied in your shallow, yet quiet breath. he leaned into your touch, nuzzling his nose into your palm, kissing your warmth. “then let seunghyunnie take care of you, hm?”

he pushed your shirt up for the hem to rest under your neck. he laid between your legs, stomach aligning with yours, propping himself up with his elbow, palm against his temple. his right hand snuck underneath your cami, watching himself caress your right breast—able to feel it, but not see it entirely. you sucked in a breath, eyes on his hand underneath the fabric, watching a small peak form in the shape of your hardened nipple in real time. your areola was lodged between his pointer and middle finger, a gasp inflating your lungs as seunghyun leaned down, running his tongue repeatedly over your clothed nipple. after a few more, he took a look. “yeah.” he confirmed quietly to himself— working you up. his hand slipped from underneath your cami, tugging it down enough to let your breast breath. he didn’t waste any time in making only the top of his head visible, capturing your nipple between his lips and making love to it with his tongue. he hummed in content, encouraged by your hand in his hair, enraptured by your moans. “o-oh my god!” you whispered. you were stuck on an inhale, breathing when he popped off. “let me hear you.” was all he said when he went to your left breast, angling his head so you could see what he was doing. you watched his tongue nurture your areola, mouth hung up as he kissed your stretch marks before diving back in. “f-fuck…” your voice trailed. “thats so fucking good.” his dick twitched in his boxers, “y-yeah?” it is, baby?“ his syllables were half-finished as he spoke in the midst of his ministrations, but the eye contact with lethal. he got the message when your fingers carded through his hair, sucking like the good boy he is—spoiling you like you deserve.

the birds chirped as he reached for a condom, shutting the drawer of his nightside table. he made love to you the only way he knew how: with purpose. you kissed one another like lost souls reunited after centuries apart. his thrusts were intentionally slow, hardening upon feeling the ball of your foot rest on his lower back, fueling either his and your pathetic whimpers into each other’s mouths. his speed didn’t falter—wanting to not only take his time, but also speak to you without talking. he meant it when he said you’ve changed him for the better; the sun shines brighter and he suddenly believes he was put on this earth to love you and only you. but when he looks at you, his words get lost between his brain and throat. he’s better at expressing those more sentimental thoughts in writing—like the paragraphs he wrote in the card with fresh roses and daisies before you left for nationals—or in things considered mundane to the passerby but are quintessential in your shared lives: remembering when your meetings are, knowing whether to play lenny kravitz or mazzy star in his car depending on your mood, reminding him to take his supplements before going to morning practices, and introducing him to the world of skincare—even if he thought you were fancy for just using a moisturizer—or just filling you up.

you broke the kiss, mouth hovering his. "oh fuck,” you whined, biting your bottom lip. he hit all the places you needed—that were begging for it—the swivel of his hips telling you he knew what the fuck he was doing; he was the only one who knew you this well. “that feel good?” his breath shook. “yeah?” “yeah,” you nodded, looking at him with heavy eyelids. “so good, s-seunghyunnie.” your hands felt past either side of his neck, mindlessly pawing his back before messily carding through his hair. seunghyun kissed you deeply and with more fervor, soon translating that to his hips. he put more weight on his knees, thrusting faster than before, encouraged by your breathy moan. his bed made noise with every dip of his knees. not that he was moving crazily, but just the right amount to keep your mind deeply intertwined with your delectable libido, stretching you out in a way that feels it should be written in scripture—or just plain common sense, really. his bed frame was also aged and couldn’t withstand much motion without letting everyone else in the apartment know, like his roommate who just woke up down the hall.

“my beautiful baby, so f-fucking stressed out,” seunghyun murmured, hearing and feeling his balls intermittently slap against you. “so overworked, so—hngh!—t-tired f-fuck—” your gummy walls clenched around him, dizzying his senses. he took a deep breath, making the bed creak again. “it's unfair.” he panted, shaking his head. “the least you can let me do is take care of you. that's—t-thats the least i can fuckin’ do, baby—oh my f-fucking god,” he looked down, watching the way your thick thighs jiggled with every thrust. your puffy lips swallowed him deliciously, blessing him with a newfound sixth sense—a peek into the divine feminine herself. he looked at you, eyelids heavier than before. you looked beautiful. hair a mess, a light coat of sweat shining on your forehead, mouth agape, but most importantly relaxed. at ease. spoiled fucking rotten. i’ll do anything to keep her this way, he thought to himself. “w-why don’t you let me, huh? why won’t you let your seunghyunnie m-make you f-feel good? make you forget everything? huh?” he pleaded. he was completely at your helm, evident in the quiver in his voice, and how his lips hovered on your temple. your hand came up to the back of his head, keeping him there. “if—if you w-won’t use me—f-fuck—then i’ll give myself to you.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head, feeling him fuck you deeper as your back arched—your chest smushing against his. “h-how’s that sound, baby? huh? h-how's—how’s that—” “oh, fuck!” you cried out, eyebrows contorted sinfully. his mouth fell open at the sight, bed creaking louder. “fuck me, j-just like that—ngh!”

he tucked his arms underneath your knees, lifting your legs up a few inches. he came to a sudden halt following his first thrust in the new position—one reason being your wall-shattering gasp, the other the need to bring himself back down to earth; uncross his eyes with a handful of harsh blinks. “i’ve never—” you swallowed, mouth dry. your chest heaved, “i’ve n-never felt that b-before—fuck!” you gasped. the feeling was indescribable—arguably too strong. “stop! stop—don’t move!” “sorry!” seunghyun blurted out, panicking slightly. he tried his best not to fidget. “sorry, baby. my bad. do you—oh, f-fuck—do you w-want to stay like this? we could go back to—back to missionary.” “i—i don’t know,” you thought aloud. “i-it feels . . . good. just really fucking intense.” “i get that.” seunghyun nodded. “holy shit, do i get that.” “try a few thrusts.” “a-are you sure?” you nodded, “wanna see how it f-feels.” seunghyun listened. you thought bitches were making shit up, but your ass saw stars. black spots littered your vision. you went mute. seunghyun’s arms were shaking, looking like he needed an oxygen tank. “do you—” he sounded perishable. “d-d-do you—you want me to keep—” “your ass better move.”

neither of you lasted long. that condom was begging to be freed, so creamy and wet, its usage as a protective barrier felt useless. but with those reports of an upcoming recession? no way in hell were you planning on having a baby anytime soon. not that seunghyun didn’t fuck you like he was ready to become a father tomorrow, though. “oh fuck!” he cried aloud, face scrunched up in one of delectable sin, “oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck! yeah! y-yeah! oh fuck yeah!” he babbled dumbly, drooling leaking out of the corner of his mouth, fucking your tight pussy at what felt before like an unimaginable angle. “f-feel me? feel that, baby? o—oh my god!” he whimpered, drawing out his syllables. you were silent—everything you needed to say etched in your furrowed eyebrows and hung mouth. he was hitting places that felt dangerous. you ascended into something otherworldly, crying out his name like he’s never heard before. “s-seunghyun! o-oh my god—seunghyun!” you were wholly aware of your body, feeling your toes curl in the air and your back arch into oblivion, but lost in your illustriously carnal haze. seunghyun felt something wet. his vision blurred, seeing your squirt splashing onto his bed, pussy squelching with his thrusts. his stomach caved inward, “i’m gonna fucking marry you.” he whimpered pathetically. “i’m gonna fucking marry—o-oh fuck me!”

come june, you were born anew. senior thesis submitted, no more assignments, and final exams completed. all that was left was the end-of-season banquet, moving out, and graduation. it wasn’t much in comparison to the hustle you were used to, but with the sudden copious amount of free time you had, it felt like it couldn’t come soon enough. you couldn’t do much in terms of clearing out your dorm until your parents were set to arrive a couple days before graduation later in the week—seunghyun has hidden his amused smirk overhearing your bickering regarding travel and dinner plans whilst on the phone with them—so you filled your time by making your boyfriend take you to the mall, dodging his sneaky kisses whilst an associate tried their best to help you pick an outfit for your ceremony. “i almost forgot you can’t take me tonight.” you said to seunghyun over the phone sunday morning. “i was about to ask what time you’d pick me up.” “s'become natural instinct, i guess.” he said. his shoulder kept his blackberry to his ear, hands sorting through his hangers. he pulled his long sleeve black button-up from his closet, making a mental note to iron it for this evening. “you think romeo and juliet felt like this?” you raised an eyebrow though he couldn’t see you, “like the shakespearean couple?” “is there another one i don’t know about?” he retorted smartly, chuckling. “i think their dynamic was a bit more complicated than ours.” you said. “like, there’s was do-or-die. and they died.” “i’d die for you.” “now will that be before or after we graduate?”

seunghyun let out a hearty laugh, making you smile. you felt your phone vibrate in your hand, “hold on, baby. think i got a text.” you flipped your screen to reveal the keyboard. you did get a message, and it was from jiyong: Hi :) Do u have a ride tn? I can drive u if no. you grinned, thumbs already working: Works for me. 6:30? you flipped your screen down, returning your phone to your ear. “guess who’s hitching a ride with her ex.” seunghyun raised his eyebrows, “for real? ji texted you?” “mhm.” “he wants you back, y'know.” “i know.” you said, mind sifting through his recollection of their conversation when you were in san francisco. “you told me.” there was a brief pause on his end of the line, “are you gonna tell him about us on the ride there?” you made a face, “and have him crash the car and kill us both?” seunghyun ran his hand over his face, “you’re right.” “i’m going to tell him before graduation.” you said earnestly, hearing seunghyun hum in acknowledgement. “college of liberal arts is on thursday, anyway. so i still have time. it’ll be too brash—too much if i tell him tonight.” “you’re right, you’re right.” seunghyun nodded. “i sometimes forgot you’re the logical one of us both.” “then i must not be that effective if you forget.” you quipped, hearing him chuckle. “sorry, i just—” he huffed. “i just get greedy, baby.” “you’ve been greedy.” you corrected him. “can you blame me?” he asked. you looked up, seeing your reflection in the mirror mounted above your dresser. “no.” you said, a sheepish grin tugging at the corner of your lips. “i can’t.”

“but listen.” you continued. “i need you to promise me something.” “anything.” seunghyun said without hesitation. “just say the word.” “if jiyong tries anything tonight, you need to not act afool.” “what do you mean?” you huffed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “you know exactly what i’m talking about, seunghyun. like, if he has a look in his eyes. or tries to kiss to me or—” “—he’s gonna try to kiss you? since when?” “you said he wanted me back.” you made your argument. “do the math. especially since we both know how he can be.” “okay,” seunghyun went into his argument. “but what’s this about him kissing you?” “i’m just saying that if—” “—he won’t do that shit with me there.” seunghyun shook his head, kissing his teeth. “listen to me.” you said sternly. “hence the use of and my emphasis on the word if. i’m not going to let it get that far,” you said. “but if—and i mean if—there’s even a hint of an iota of a semblance of that behavior from him—even a fucking suggestive twinkle in his eye—you need to keep it together.” you heard him take a long breath, stubborn in his silence. “there is not going to be a scene at your banquet tonight. not on my watch, anyway.” you said. “do you hear me?” you were met with silence. “own up to it.” his posture stiffened. “i’m going tonight because of you. don’t sulk now.” “i’ll try my best.” he said, only to hear you tut disapprovingly. “no. i need a yes. absolute and nothing but.” “yes,” he answered. “i’ll behave.” you let out a breath of relief, “thank you. i love you.” “i love you. too much. at the same time it doesn’t feel like enough.” “it does. it will always be enough.”

jiyong arrived at your residential building right on time, waiting for you whilst stood outside his car. he was clad in a dark gray suit with matching trousers, seeing you in your go-to debate ensemble—a matching black blazer and trouser set—freshened up with accented jewelry. he greeted you with a hug. you returned the polite embrace, feeling bad in having to hold your laughter back, thinking of how if seunghyun were here, steam might’ve been coming out of his ears. you caught a glimpse of the backseat as you settled into the passenger’s, swift flashes of what went down just months ago flurrying your mind. “you look really nice.” jiyong told you with a smile, putting his key into the ignition. “thank you.” you nodded. “you look handsome, too.” “thanks.” he said. “thanks for coming with me tonight, too. i know this is probably not what you wanna do right after finals.” he let out a nervous chuckle, merging onto the street. you shook your head in assurance, “its fine, jiyong. it doesn’t have to be awkward if we don’t make it be.” “that’s true.” he nodded. you made friendly small talk during the fifteen minute car ride, pulling into the hotel housing the ballroom hosting the banquet.

conversation continued after jiyong put his car in park, trading chuckles and half-baked jokes. it was the brightest and widest he’d smiled in what felt like forever. “i’m really happy you came.” he spoke honestly, tone sincere. he met your eyes, “i missed you.” the words could have meant nothing—a friend platonically doting on the other. but with eyes like jiyong’s, there was no such thing as speaking plainly. complicated sentiment was the only option. his gaze softened, unabashedly keeping you tethered to him. his expression didn’t hold the insatiable weight of pleading, but it was just sad. perhaps a bit of relief? you thought to yourself, noticing the small breath parting his lips; how his posture molded with the driver’s seat. a moment lasting seconds felt akin to hours—stuck in time. there it was, that look in his eyes. “i—” a car honked. you and jiyong looked out the windshield at the same time. seunghyun waved to the both of you from his car, cigarette hanging between his lips. jiyong chuckled, waving back. you didn’t flinch, turning away from the window when seunghyun pulled into the spot next to jiyong’s car. he tossed his cigarette onto the asphalt, putting it out with his foot. he looked up, amused at the sight of you and jiyong stepping out of the land rover. “did i miss the memo or what?” “hm?” jiyong’s eyebrows furrowed. seunghyun gestured between you two with his pointer finger, “you two back together?”

you refrained from closing your eyes in frustration. seunghyun relished in it, smile widening. “oh—” jiyong cut himself off, growing sheepish. he glanced at you as if with the hope you would say yes. “n-no. just friends.” he shook his head, looking at his best friend. seunghyun nodded, “my bad.” on the walk to the hotel’s front entrance, jiyong was called over by a group of friends who had just arrived then, too. once he was a good distance away, seunghyun walked next to you. “you can speak when in my presence, y'know.” he quipped discreetly, glancing at his surroundings. you did the same, keeping your eyes ahead, “i know.” he turned his head to the left, looking down at you, “you look really beautiful tonight.” “i know i do.” you said swiftly, hearing him chuckle. “that’s my girl, alright.” he muttered to himself. “go talk to him,” you told seunghyun. “alright, alright.” he kissed his teeth playfully, clearly enjoying this. “i love you.” he blurted, loud enough for only you to hear. you held yourself back from telling him off, seeing him quickly turn around, sticking his tongue out before catching up to jiyong.

the universe had a cruel sense of humor. you could feel god herself giggling down at you, clinking glasses of chardonnay with her fellow deities as you sat between jiyong and seunghyun—in the same order as the night at the hotel, no less; jiyong on your right, seunghyun to your left. there were three athletes sitting across the table from you—a layout mimicked all throughout the ballroom. the banquet began with speeches from coaches and department heads, allotting time for dinner before awards were to be handed out. in the middle of someone’s speech, your phone vibrated in your pocket—a text from your mom, asking if you had eaten dinner yet. you responded, changing to a different conversation. seunghyun’s blackberry vibrated in his pocket. he hesitated to check, glancing at jiyong, whom was listening intently to whoever was speaking. seunghyun then looked at you, seeing your phone was away, your attention undeterred as well. I love you too btw he read, upside down grin on his face at your reference to earlier. Youre on the same side like at the hotel. his face warmed, putting his phone away. a few moments later, you felt something graze the side of your thigh. it was seunghyun—discreetly gesturing to let him fix the back of your blazer. you leaned forward in your seat just enough to let his hand through. he swiftly tugged at the bottom hem, flattening the fabric neatly to mold with your curves. his palm gingerly cascaded down your thigh afterward, settling back into his own lap.

there were a few times during the opening program where jiyong turned to you, smiling as he said something seunghyun couldn’t hear. it was usually followed by a chuckle from your end, or you gesturing jiyong to come closer to say something seunghyun also couldn’t hear. it looked and was friendly—but could you blame him for how he needed to force himself to look away, inhaling sharply through his nostrils, and clenching his jaw in muted frustration? seunghyun understood that to jiyong, you and him weren’t friendly like that, so it makes sense as to why you wouldn’t talk. but not even a spare glance? his thoughts wallowed. or a polite grin? he knew you meant business. in fact, thats the quality he loves utmost about you. you set him straight when he needs it, talk your shit in a way he’s never heard before, and made him into a more honest man. there’s no getting any bullshit passed you—not that he would dare, anyway. so he sat there, quiet. unassuming. on good behavior, like you told him to. he would reap his rewards any way he could. if it meant receiving a waft of your perfume every time you fixed your hair—he’d take it.

when the banquet broke for dinner, you and jiyong went to one side of the catering whereas seunghyun went to the other, luckily distracted by a few athletes he was friendly with at the bar. he really was trying, and you felt it. jiyong introduced you to his friends whenever they came up to him to say hello—each “no, we’re not dating,” more awkward than before. you returned to your table some time later equipped with a plate full of food. jiyong was pulled off to one of his friends’ tables, promising he would meet back with you soon. to your delight, seunghyun was the only one at your table, downing the last sip of his rum and coke. “i see you’ve made the most of your drink vouchers.” you grinned, twirling your spaghetti with your fork. you took a bite, hearing him chuckle sweetly. “you’re finally talking to me.” his syllables slurred a little. you wiped sauce off your lip with a napkin, “how’re you already tipsy?” you thought aloud. “you haven’t eaten much, have you.” seunghyun shook his head, jutting out his bottom lip, “saw some friends at the bar.” he said. “here, have mine.” you pushed your plate to him. you rose from your seat, “line’s not long and there’s plenty of food left.”

seunghyun’s eyes grew twice in size. “why’re you looking at me like that? we like the same shit.” “because i don’t want you to leave.” you tsked, unable to hide your smile, feeling your face warm. “grow up, you big baby.” as you turned to walk away, seunghyun looked across the room, seeing the back of jiyong’s head. he reached over, patting your ass. you looked back at him in a panic. you unintentionally mimicked his movement, seeing jiyong deep in conversation with a friend. “get a good one in.” seunghyun listened diligently, groping your left globe. you left with a satisfied huff. seunghyun watched you walk away, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he looked down at his lap. “thats my fuckin’ girl.” he muttered to himself, eating a few bites of what became his food. you returned not too long after with a new plate and a margarita, letting out a sweet laugh upon realizing seunghyun was now drinking a vodka cran. “you better eat.” you said, eating a spoonful of macaroni and cheese. you saw jiyong walk over, other hand stirring your drink with the small straw it came with, “and drink water.” “i will.”

“hold up,” seunghyun called to you and jiyong. “gotta piss. hold this for me?” he handed jiyong his best sportsmanship certificate, carried in an elegant stanford-cardinal red folder. jiyong took it with a nod, holding it with his. seunghyun walked down the hall, turning the corner to where the restrooms were, following the directory on the wall. you stood in amicable silence with jiyong. your hand ran along the back of a luxurious lounge chair—one of many scattered throughout the main lobby—eyes drifting to the chandelier hanging above the front desk. “i forgot to check if seunghyun has his keys.” you turned to jiyong at the sound of his voice. something about his tone told you he was trying to fill the air. “do you think he does? so he can get his car tomorrow.” it was an obvious question with an obvious answer: of course the person who drove would still have their keys on them, even if they’re too tipsy for comfort to drive themselves home afterward. he’s smart enough to know. with the way jiyong’s eyes stayed on you, waiting for your answer, it was evident he wanted an excuse to talk to you. “i’m sure he does, jiyong.” you said. “you can check when he comes back.” “right,” jiyong nodded, sincere. “you’re right.”

the fleeting moments of silence that followed, something stirred inside jiyong’s chest. he tried to thwart it—distracting himself with the groups of fellow athletes filing in and out of the hotel, or the couple going back and forth with the concierge about a mistake made in their reservation. but he couldn’t help it. there was only so much one person could stifle for so long. you knew something was afoot, feeling him lay his hand atop yours. you didn’t waste an iota of time: “jiyong.” you warned him, voice leveled. “we can’t. you know this.” he looked at you, but you wouldn’t look at him. “i miss you so fucking badly.” he sounded broken—the world zeroed in on either of you, cancelling everyone else out. “you have no idea what i’ve gone through. how lonely i’ve felt these past five months without you.” his tone wasn’t spiteful. like his expression in the car, he just sounded sad. wounded. delicate. he took a step closer to you. you still weren’t looking at him. he leaned closer to your face, trying to get those beautiful eyes of yours, “i r-respect your choice, of course i do.” his voice quivered. “but i—i can’t live without you.” he shook his head, breath shallow. in your periphery, he looked perishable—eyebrows furrowed, mouth in a pitiful frown. “you don't—” he inhaled through his nostrils. “you don’t miss me?” your eyes fell closed, posture straightening at his question. he was so pathetically hopeful—anyone with a beating heart would feel sympathy. but you drew those lines already. you weren’t going to suddenly back-track now.

“not even a little bit?” jiyong added. you finally looked at him. you could’ve sworn you heard the tiniest whimper stir from his throat. “jiyong,” your tone remained firm. “of course i feel bad that—” “—then take me back.” he cut you off. you sighed—i can’t get anywhere with him, your inner monologue voiced. “jiyong…” “please.” he pleaded. “i’ll do anything. i’ll do anything for you.” before you knew it, his mouth hovered above yours. you breathed each other in, his hand still on yours. you were aware of your surroundings, not intending on closing the gap whatsoever, yet the sudden proximity couldn’t help but catch you off guard. jiyong knew this was wrong—he knew he was directly contradicting himself. but he couldn’t stop the tip of his nose nudging against yours, or his fingers sliding up to your wrist—his gentle touch pampering your smooth skin. seunghyun was watching from the corner—since jiyong had taken a step closer to you. he was frozen in place. his jaw was clenched so tightly, he wouldn’t be surprised if he shattered his teeth in the process. seunghyun never once doubted your loyalty to your relationship nor him as your partner. but to see your logical prediction play out in real time, coupled with the sheer balls on jiyong?? he needs to get a fucking grip on himself, seunghyun’s inner monologue grumbled bitterly. he was fortunate to have preserved a morsel of self-control in his inebriated state, running his hand over his face, inhaling sharply through his nostrils.

you took a breath, “we can’t.” you said definitively. a tangible whimper escaped his diaphragm—somewhere between a groan and a prayer—shoulders sinking feeling your hand leave his, “and we won’t.” jiyong hit a new low, unable to show his face. his forehead landed on your shoulder, stiffening your posture. you heard footsteps, seeing an irate seunghyun. you made searing eye contact—expression reading don’t do anything crazy. he tried to bite back, face reading how could i not? one cold stare from you and he listened, much to your relief: “am i interrupting something, or—” jiyong shot up, walking away wordlessly. either yours and seunghyun’s respective gazes followed him out the front entrance, turning to each other once he was out of sight. “what the fuck was that?” seunghyun thought aloud in disbelief. you let out a long exhale, running your hands over your face. “did he—did he try anything on you, baby?” you looked up, irrationally scanning for jiyong at the sound of seunghyun’s pet name. “he did.” you confirmed honestly. “but it got nowhere. like i said it wouldn’t.” seunghyun kissed his teeth, half in admiration, half in frustration. he dusted your shoulder off, bringing you back down to earth. “keep it moving.” you gestured with your head out the front entrance. “we need to get home. you better keep it together.” “i—i,” seunghyun hiccuped, trying to swallow the tipsiness away. “i will.”

the car ride was silent. seunghyun was in the backseat of the land rover, safely tucked away behind his seatbelt, twiddling his thumbs. your eyes were out the passenger’s seat window, counting the passing cars. jiyong’s stare was vacant, boring out the windshield. his fingers were tightly wound around the steering wheel, but not enough to paint his knuckles white—mind elsewhere, reeling with what he’s done but currently trying to forget for the sake of his sanity. he pulled into the lot outside of your residential building, putting his car in park. you unbuckled your seatbelt, “thank you for the ride home,” you said to jiyong. “and for tonight.” his meek nod pained you with second-hand embarrassment. seunghyun watched his every move. “mhm.” jiyong hummed, turning his head, but barely sparing you a glance—his shame heavy in the air. “it was nice seeing you again,” seunghyun said, tone polite. “for what it's worth.” you turned your head, meeting his eyes. either of your respective gazes softened—a language only you two understand. “you too.” you said simply. “goodnight.” you addressed both jiyong and seunghyun, turning to leave. “night.” jiyong murmured. “night, baby.”

you froze. seunghyun’s blood ran cold. jiyong’s eyebrows furrowed, confused. he looked in the rearview mirror at seunghyun. his best friend quickly looked away, down at his lap—confirming that his ears didn’t deceive him. “what did you just call her?” jiyong stared at seunghyun through the glass, voice eerily leveled. your heart thumped in your chest—we were so fucking close … your inner monologue said bitterly. seunghyun raised his head, trying to get his lick back—establish his characteristic confidence. “i didn’t call her nothing, ji.” jiyong looked to you. you hadn’t moved. you could have, but you were physically stuck in place in shock. to think, this was the way jiyong was going to find out? so brashly, so—so inconceivably? and who had to pick up the pieces now? you did. it was always you. seunghyun’s eyes closed in defeat, head sinking in shame after jiyong slammed the driver’s seat door shut. nothing would kill seunghyun more than to see the disappointment he just knows is plastered on your face right now. he dared to look up at the rearview mirror, seeing the sight of jiyong pacing back and forth behind the car, but your eyes in the corner—piercing. he shook his head, becoming a blubbering fool in a matter of seconds: “i’m sorry—” “—get the fuck out of this car and own up to it.” you cut him off. “now.” “y-yes ma'am.” he nodded, unbuckling his seatbelt, stepping out of the car.

your door slammed closed after his. seunghyun saw you fix your blazer in his periphery. you two rounded the corner of the car, side-by-side, standing across from a distressed jiyong. “ji,” started seunghyun. “just listen to me for a second, man.” “like the fuck i will.” jiyong kissed his teeth, shaking his head. he paced four steps back-and-forth, hands on his hips, sorting through his quick-fire fragmented thoughts knitting his eyebrows together. “we were—” you corrected yourself swiftly. “i was going to tell you.” jiyong stopped in place, looking at you. his expression was sharp, targeted. “we?” his pointer finger gestured between you and seunghyun, condescending in nature. “so you two are a—are a thing?” you nodded, keeping your calm. “yes. we’re together.” seunghyun mimicked, nodding his head. “for how long?” jiyong asked, “huh?” seunghyun looked at you. his expression wasn’t accusatory whatsoever, but rather encouraging—dependent. “since—” you sighed. though you knew you owed jiyong the truth, some part of you remained afraid how he would react. so, in true debate fashion, you skirted around it delicately. “since the wintertime.” seunghyun picked up on your vague word choice, seeing the cogs turn in jiyong’s brain. clouded by the shock of it all. poor guy, his inner monologue voiced. “since the—since winter?” jiyong thought aloud, shaking his head—in the midst of connecting the pieces.

“since december.” seunghyun clarified, getting some of his lick back. “we’ve been together since december.” “but we broke up in january.” jiyong said to you. you took a breath—this is the worst fucking part. just get through this and it’ll be over—“yes, i know we did, jiyong—” “—is that why you broke up with me?” jiyong made his own connections, taking a few steps closer to you. his expression bordered on wild, eyes pained with hurt, tone teetering into accusatory. “because you wanted to fuck my best friend?” seunghyun’s expression darkened. he didn’t appreciate jiyong’s tone, nor how quickly he got comfortable with disrespecting you. your eyes narrowed, standing your ground: “that would fit perfectly into your little narrative, wouldn’t it?” you asked, eye contact unrelenting. with each condescending nod of yours, jiyong felt himself shrink. “would keep your streak going, too.” you continued, crossing your arms over your chest. “since you wanna swing your dick around, saying you got to fuck me, when in reality you nearly perished at a mere fucking tug. so go ahead,” you nodded, challenging jiyong. “say that shit again.”

jiyong swallowed, clearing his throat. “how did you know i said that?” “how the fuck else?” you spoke with conviction. “you wanna talk like you know everything? go ahead. don’t stop now and make me spoon-feed it to you.” jiyong took a step closer to you, trying to bite back. seunghyun’s jaw clenched. “i’m not inept.” jiyong said sharply to you. “you’re not.” you shook your head curtly. “but you’re fucking insecure.” jiyong fucking hated how quickly his sinuses loosened. he inhaled sharply through his nostrils, trying not to let your harsh reality impede on his back talk—but the truth fucking hurts. he was stuck in an unforgiving cycle: think you’ve got it, then you don’t. was it really repeated misfortune, or is he really just that intolerable? had he really found the one, or did he scare her away—into his best friend’s fucking arms, out of all fucking people? “shit.” he cursed between his teeth, feeling his eyes water. jiyong turned around, pacing a few steps forward, his hands on his head in muted agony. both you and seunghyun watched jiyong in silence, unsure of what to do next. jiyong’s face trembled, nearly succumbing to his tears. why does seunghyun always gets what he wants? his inner monologue quivered, reminiscent of a young child’s, what about me? he felt juvenile for thinking of a serious situation in such a silly manner. he knew there was more nuance to this than his stubbornness was willing him to believe, but how else could he word it? there it was, the other pattern defining—no, bleeding his life dry since he could remember. since that fucking neighborhood block party as a kid.

jiyong ran a hand over his face, getting himself together. he turned around, facing the two of you—subconsciously recognizing you as one unit; a collective, impenetrable moving force. “is that what this is?” he voiced meekly. dissatisfied with himself, he poked his cheek with his tongue, gesturing between you and seunghyun with his finger. “you cheated on me with seunghyun to get back at me for lying about fucking you?” you scoff eviscerated his last shred of dignity. you shrugged your shoulders, “you’re a lost cause.” you told jiyong, shaking your head. the same time you turned your back and walked a few paces away—appalled by his sheer audacity—seunghyun walked up to jiyong. “hey,” he said sternly, pointing at jiyong’s chest. “you don’t get to fucking speak to her like that.” “the fuck does it matter to you! you didn’t give a fuck about her! i was the only one who did!” jiyong yelled, smacking seunghyun’s hand away. his throat felt raw, “you always get whatever the fuck you want!” his voice echoed throughout the empty parking lot. you ran your hands over your face, wanting to be anywhere else but here. “it's not fair!” jiyong yelled. seunghyun didn’t back down from the challenge, looking at his brother since sentience in the eye with undiluted defiance. “how did—how did you even—” jiyong stumbled on his words, awkwardly gesturing to nothing at his side, trying to form a sentence. he shook his head, looking for stability in his thoughts. “how did you even get together, seunghyun?” he looked at his best friend, utterly helpless. “how could you do this to me? she was mine first!”

seunghyun kissed his teeth dismissively. “nah, man. i’ve paid my fucking dues. i’ve learned from my mistakes and how bad i fumbled.” he told jiyong. “but what i’m not gonna let you do is forget that she saw me first. so fuck off with your cuck-ass bullshit.” your face sunk into your hands, “you have got to be fucking kidding me.” you muttered to yourself, they really talk like they’re not a day passed seven. jiyong thought he was going crazy, “what the fuck are you talking about!?” he yelled at seunghyun, throat dry, nearly descending into a coughing fit. he swallowed hard, fingers pounding on his temples dramatically, “what the actual—what the actual fuck are you talking about, seunghyun? do you not hear yourself when you talk!? you told me to bring her tonight, knowing what you two are dating!” he took a deep breath. “what's—what’s wrong with you, man? all of our lives you’ve gotten everything—everything you’ve wanted. and—and now—” jiyong scoffed pitifully, the words caught in his throat. “the—the one fucking time i have someone, you just—you just took her away. like it was nothing. like she’s nothing,” jiyong gestured to your back. seunghyun’s jaw clenched, eye contact with jiyong unrelenting. “she’s not nothing.” murmured seunghyun. jiyong shook his head in disbelief, “why couldn’t i just have this one—this one thing?” his chest felt hollow, head nauseated with shame and inexplicable betrayal. “you couldn’t leave her alone? just this once? out of the girlfriends i’ve had, she’s the one you just so happened to want?” tears clouded his vision. jiyong blinked harshly, “huh? why, seunghyun? fucking why!”

seunghyun shook his head defiantly, getting up in jiyong’s face. jiyong pushed his shoulders, but seunghyun came right back. “i didn’t take bullshit away, ji.” he taunted. “it's not my fault she answered and didn’t hang up. it's not my fault that we went out to dinner and she didn’t wanna leave.” he watched his best friend crumble with every syllable—every breath. “what is my fault is—is that—” seunghyun cleared his throat, zeroing himself back in. “is that i was stupid for not realizing what i wanted before it could hurt you.” “fuck you, man.” jiyong spat, but his pitiful expression said otherwise. “everything’s always been so easy for you.” said jiyong bitterly, “you don’t get to talk.” “nah,” seunghyun stared down at him. “'cause you don’t get to talk either, ji.” he shook his head menacingly, “you think it was easy hearing you talk about someone every fucking day, when you had no idea what to do with all that? what to do with all of her?” he tutted. “you think it was fucking easy to see the look on her face when you didn’t tell her you loved her? and then you went and told her over fucking text? really, ji? have you ever been fucking serious a goddamn day in your fucking life?” your stomach dropped. your eyes widened, body going on auto-pilot. you walked up to seunghyun, “that’s enough.” you spoke with conviction, though he wasn’t budging. you saw how all the color drained from jiyong’s face. it petrified you, wondering how the brash mention of such a sensitive topic would play out. you didn’t want to stick around to find out: “i said that’s fucking enough.”

you weren’t particularly religious—though meeting jiyong’s eyes ushered you into judgment day. his pupils twinkled devastatingly underneath the glow of the street lamp, erasing any surrounding white noise. the world fell silent. it always did with those eyes of his, “you told him?” it was a natural instinct to want to reach out and comfort him. however, it wasn’t attributed to your past relationship, nor basic human empathy. he was born to be comforted—made to feel worthy, re-assured with love. any palm could be molded to fit his cheek—any kiss can rejuvenate his senses. in another life, he was an artist’s muse: elegantly immortalized on canvas, vividly celebrated in marble. his emotions were never misguided, but rather guideposts of the human experience. in this life, unfortunately, he’s been banished to the unforgiving gallows of insatiable want with no means of a tangible end. stuck in a cycle—looking at the love of his vulnerable yet beautiful soul hold the arm of the one who’s tightened that suffocating rope his entire life. “you told him everything?” jiyong’s voice was meek, utterly devastated. you held onto seunghyun’s arm tighter, fighting the urge to comfort his sad soul: “i—” “—you’re talking to me.” seunghyun took a step forward, effectively out of your grip. “not her. me.” he pointed to himself, looking at jiyong. “you’re not gonna get another chance to disrespect her.”

jiyong looked offended. “disrespect her? i’m nicer than you’ll ever fucking be, seunghyun.” he said sharply. “you toss people out like garbage. like you did to her before you—before you decided to j-just randomly change your mind. like you’re doing to me right fucking now.” seunghyun took a deep breath, actively deterring the need to yell—he was historically the more level-headed energy in their arguments. “i didn’t randomly change my mind.” he said calmly. “yeah? well, it fucking feels like you did. just—just swooped in when no one was looking.” jiyong tsked. silence brewed in the tension-filled air. jiyong was at his wit’s end, “that’s the—she’s the love of my life, man.” “mine too.” said seunghyun. “i’m an honest man because of her.” if the unspoken words displayed on jiyong’s face were audible, he would be indicted on federal-level charges. “like you ever were to begin with.” he muttered bitterly. “you didn’t give a fuck. you never give a fuck about people in a normal way.”

seunghyun couldn’t take it anymore: “i always did!” he yelled, voice booming down the lot. “i always cared! do you not fucking hear yourself, ji? huh!?” seunghyun threw jiyong’s words back at him, rapidly tapping his own temple, eyes widening in frustration. “y'know, when we first came here, i wanted you to have a life of your own. because i saw how much it killed you to—to constantly be associated with me at the academy,” said seunghyun. “i’m not fucking stupid, ji.” he shook his head, not giving jiyong the chance to breath with his seething eye contact. “you may think i am, but i’m a lot smarter than you wanna fucking admit. you want people to know you’re the older one. you don’t want to be known for tennis since you got wrapped into it 'cause of me. you fucking hated and i mean hated!” he yelled. “when we both got into stanford, because there’s another thing that’ll tie us together furrr-ever.” seunghyun listed on his fingers, pumped-adrenaline from the roll he was on temporarily compromising his pronunciation. he talked like you’ve never heard him speak before. he became straight up bitter the angrier he got, “you wanna last in people’s memories for longer than five fucking seconds. great. great! go ahead! no one’s stopping you!” seunghyun let out a condescending laugh, throwing his hands in the air.

he looked over his shoulder, arm gesturing at you behind him, his attention returning to jiyong. “you don’t want the love of your life slipping through your fingers.” you covered your mouth. you couldn’t deter your eyes though jiyong and seunghyun were only a few feet in front of you, akin to a car crash. “i get that, ji. okay? i understand.” seunghyun nodded. “but what you need to understand is that you were a placeholder.” jiyong’s knuckles went white, fists at his sides, jaw clenching. seunghyun licked his lips, “i don’t know why it was her and not someone else. i don’t.” he shook his head, earnest. “but i know—i know this is different. i’m not letting her go. no matter what the fuck you say. or do.” jiyong’s voice quivered, “i can’t ever forgive you for this.” seunghyun’s shoulders didn’t slump, nor did his posture falter. “i know.” he leaned forward, staring into jiyong’s mutilated soul. “how’d my dick taste in your mouth, though?”

it all happened so quickly: jiyong swung, seunghyun dodged; popped jiyong on the jaw, nearly sending him toppling onto the asphalt. you gasped sharply, not knowing what to do, moving forward on nothing but instinct. seunghyun grunted, breathing temporarily stalled after jiyong punched him square on the chest, swinging back—completely undeterred by your yanking of his suit; in his own world, hellbent on his own objectives. you grabbed as much as you could, pulling hard. “are you fucking crazy!?” you exclaimed, bottom of your loafers skidding against the pavement. “have you lost your damn—” you yelped, letting go immediately. you registered an intense stinging sensation on your right hand—half of your pinky nail was gone; snapped off after chipping against a loose thread, combined with the force of your pulls. “shit!” you cursed aloud, eyes watering. it was unbearable, almost paralyzing. applying pressure to the wound was useless—it only caused you to wince louder, unable to stop your tears in your immediate reaction. seunghyun turned around, horrified: “look what you fucking did ji—” the wind was knocked out of him again, jiyong punching his chest and pushing hard against his shoulders afterward, sending seunghyun stumbling backwards, and unintentionally into you. you fell onto the pavement. no further physical injury, thankfully, but in the sudden intensity of it all, a moment of weakness slipped through the cracks: a sob ringing from your diaphragm.

seunghyun panicked, scurrying over to you. “h—hey,” he was on all fours, having not gotten up yet, the adrenaline currently fogging his logic. “you okay, baby? a-are—are you hurt? hey—” “—i’m fine.” you wiped the tears off your face harshly, pissed at everything and every-fucking one. seunghyun grabbed your wrist, eyes widening, “oh my god—what happened to your hand? h-holy shit.” “i-it was when i—” your tears had subsided, yet the stability in your voice had yet to return. “w-when you—” “—look what the fuck you did, jiyong!” seunghyun yelled. he got to his feet, “she's—she’s fucking bleeding, man!” jiyong’s face fell, “w-what? i didn��t . . . i didn’t mean to—” “that’s what happens when you do the stupid shit you do,” spat seunghyun, “people get hurt.” “you’ve hurt me my entire fucking life! made me—made me feel weak!” jiyong yelled. he pointed at seunghyun, feeling his bottom lip pulsate. “that’s all you know how to do, seunghyun!” seunghyun stepped forward, about to retaliate. “if only you—” “shut the fuck up!” you yelled, drawing out the last syllable in desperation—or until your breath gave out. jiyong and seunghyun were stunned into silence. finally, some fucking peace—"the both of you are so fucking annoying—god!“ you ended in a frustrated exclaim, pinching the bridge of your nose.

after a moment, you took a breath. you laid your left palm on the pavement in an effort to boost yourself onto your feet. "here, let me—” “you’ve done enough.” you said curtly to seunghyun, who backed off immediately, hands behind his back. you got up, pain searing on your pinky. “fuck,” you winced, wrist limp. on his instinct, seunghyun’s body was close to yours. you lifted your head, looking at jiyong. “we’re done.” you said, plain and simple. “fuck off. forever and always.” you turned your head, glancing at seunghyun. “i don’t care what the fuck you do,” you said. “i just want to go to bed.” with that, you walked away, towards the front entrance of your residential building. seunghyun took a steps forward in your direction, but found himself stalling. he turned to jiyong, their exchange wordless. there it was—their special language, harnessed and utilized since birth, spoken for what feels like the last time. they stared at each other underneath the warmth of the aged streetlight—jiyong’s bottom lip swollen; seunghyun’s left eyebrow scuffed and chest most definitely bruised—in complete silence to the passerby, but a cacophony of madness blasting their brains.

it was a last goodbye. jiyong’s face was unreadable, too tired to show emotion anymore. with how his fingers curled into his palm, however, tugging at the sleeve of his suit, communicated unease. like he wasn’t ready for what this was going to mean with the only person he’s ever trusted in his life. seunghyun’s eyes glistened, not sure where exactly his emotions were coming from, since there were so many avenues: having just fought with jiyong; the love of his life is currently hurting both emotionally and physically; the mess he’s going to repair once he walks inside your dorm; the realization that he’s already made his decision, and once he puts one foot in front of the other, his best friend will become a stranger. seunghyun’s lips parted, taking a breath. he walked away and didn’t look back.

you two stood in silence in the communal kitchen. seunghyun sifted through the first aid kit, collecting a few alcohol wipes, a sterile gauze sponge, and band aids. he tended to your broken pinky nail, cleaning and securely bandaging it up. “i know.” he whispered whenever you couldn’t hold in your wince, feeling it throb. “i know, baby.” he brought your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. he sat in a chair, you stood between his knees as you tended to the scuff on his eyebrow. you cleaned the cut with an alcohol wipe, protecting it with a smaller-sized bandaid.

seunghyun helped you undress in your dorm, sliding your blazer off your arms before unbuttoning the back of your blouse. he hung his suit on the back of your desk chair, leaving his button-up with it, too. he sat on the edge of your bed after taking his matching trousers off, feeling the mattress dip next to him. “hm?” he hummed. he looked up, seeing you point to his bare chest, a few bruises littering his pecks. you brought out your vanilla-scented body oil, usually used to moisturize your body after a shower, but massaged it into his skin nonetheless. though the oil held no healing properties, the tenderness of your gesture and touch was enough to start healing him. seunghyun’s posture relaxed, head falling back whilst his eyes closed, breathing steadying as your left palm wrote a love letter on his chest—each firm rub an affirmation, each encircled trace of a bruise a vow.

you massaged whatever oil was left into either of his shoulders. your hand found the back of his neck, bringing seunghyun in for a long-needed kiss. it was slow—breathing each other in through your nostrils. the kiss gently broke, the tips of your noses brushing together. you broke long-standing, yet amicable silence: “that was really stupid.” you alleviated the messy tension. seunghyun chuckled, breath warm against your cheek. “it wasn’t a little bit hot?” he quipped in a murmur, making you smile. “maybe.” you giggled sweetly, “a little bit.” your hand combed through his hair, fingers gingerly fixing stray strands laying in disarray on his forehead. “did you think i was gonna follow you?” he asked, voice low. though you took a moment, you answered in earnest. you shook your head, looking into his eyes, “no.” it was plausible: so much history between him and jiyong, it would make more than enough sense to stick by his side, even after nearly bashing each other’s faces in. but as you looked into the love of your life’s eyes, watching his twinkling pupils scatter around your features; mouth parted in unspoken hope, latching on your every word—you couldn’t help but be happy that the one you upended your life for did the exactly same thing for you. this love story is tragic, your inner monologue voiced, but those are always the best ones, right?

“but i’m glad you did.” you told seunghyun. a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. he leaned in, kissing you firmly. you kissed him back, hand with your injury pinky gently riding up his bare chest, settling comfortably onto the side of his neck. seunghyun kissed you again before breaking apart, resting his forehead against yours. you two settled into bed soon afterward, seunghyun reaching over you to turn your lamp off before settling onto your chest. your fingers lovingly carded through his hair, bandaged pinky held in the air to avoid any discomfort on your end. perhaps it was the white noise of your air conditioning unit, the fact that seunghyun was in a dark and quiet room and nestled into your chest, that the emotional gravitas of the evening finally began to weigh on him. this was not to say you went unscathed—you were exhausted to the point of muscular weakness. seunghyun felt his sinuses tingle, loosening expeditiously. he sucked in his bottom lip, trying to keep it from trembling. his shuddering shoulders gave him away. “seunghyun?” you were alert. “hey,” your fingers raked through his hair, trying to get his attention. you heard muffled cries, a part of your shirt dampening. there was a moment he seemed to have leveled. until he couldn’t bear it anymore, breaking out into broken sobs. you held him as tightly as you could, feeling his hands aimlessly paw at your waist. he didn’t say a word. your vision blurred, clamping your eyes shut.

the next few days were for recalibrating. seunghyun called a taxi to the hotel, trying to ward off his hangover with a cigarette. he rubbed his face at a traffic light, skin feeling heavier than usual. he sucked in a breath, pressing gently down on his sore sinuses—evident remnants of how hard he cried just hours before. he pulled into a pharmacy, walking through the aisles for antiseptic, fresh gauze and bandages for your pinky. his phone buzzed in his pocket whilst standing in line for checkout: Im more awake now, you texted. lmk when youre back. ofc baby, he typed with his left hand, right holding the full shopping basket. it was then that he saw the time, 10:37 AM. it's only hitting me now that it's monday, he thought to himself. he looked up, seeing a free cashier gesturing for him to come to their counter, last week ji and i made plans to help each other move out. wonder how he’s gonna do it on his own. jiyong woke up with a blistering headache. he stumbled into the bathroom, squinting at his reflection after hastily turning the light on. his bottom lip was swollen and bruised—not enough to warrant a visit to the nearby urgent care, but enough to begrudgingly put ice on it as his eggo waffles toasted; scarfing them down before throwing back two advils for the pain. just when his brain started to catch up with his body, senses permeated by the memories of the evening previous, his phone rang—ringtone piercing.

“hello? mom?” he mumbled, trying to decipher her words. his headache worsened, “you’re at the airport? how long’ve you and dad been there?” he had forgotten his parents were flying in today for graduation later in the week. to his relief, he hadn’t inadvertently stranded them at san jose international airport, but by his mother’s tone, she was growing impatient. “i’ll leave soon—traffic isn’t bad in the morning. okay. i love you, too. yes—yes, mom. i’ll drive carefully.” his parents were mortified to see their son’s injured mouth. hundreds if not thousands of questions were hurled at him. jiyong couldn’t stomach looking into their eyes, closing the trunk with a huff after putting their luggage inside. “seunghyun and i got into a fight.” jiyong muttered, putting his car in drive. “that badly?” he looked into the rearview mirror, seeing his father point to his lip. jiyong tsked, keeping his eyes on the road. “what could’ve possibly made you two that upset?” his mother disapproved, shaking her head. “this is so unlike you.” jiyong grimaced, tight-lipped as his bitterness clouded his senses. more like who it was, his inner monologue grumbled, merging into traffic.

word travels fast. seunghyun dug into his egg’s benedict as you cut into your breakfast platter—either of your styrofoam take-out boxes squeaking against the table in the communal kitchen—his phone rang. “hello?” his voice was muffled, trying to chew through his bite, wiping his mouth with a crumpled napkin. his father didn’t waste time with pleasantries: “what’s this i hear about you and jiyong getting into a fight?” seunghyun glanced in your direction. with how you looked at him, it was as if you understood his mother language. seunghyun cleared his throat, expression darkening a bit. his chin sunk, “we’re not talking right now, dad.” he spoke into the phone, “i'll—i’ll tell you and mom when you come tomorrow. it's a lot to explain over the phone. the least i can do is tell you face-to-face.” it surprised you when he called the next afternoon, asking if you were free for dinner.

“talk about a novel way to meet your boyfriend’s parents.” you quipped, holding your phone to your ear with your shoulder. your hands were occupied with folding your clothes and putting them into your luggage—the task you worked through today to slowly pack your dorm up for move-out. “after … y'know.” “i know.” said seunghyun. he overheard his parents in the kitchen, trying to differentiate his tupperware from his roommate’s, “would you be ready in a couple hours? around seven, let's say? my parents have a rental, so they’ll meet us there from their hotel. alleviate some of the—” he cut himself off, unsure of what word to use, “y'know.” you took a moment before responding, “they wanna see if i was worth it, don’t they?” seunghyun was quick to reassure, “you leave that to me.” he said. “you’re more than worth it. you need to know that.” you turned to retrieve the last few sweaters from your dresser, catching your reflection in the mirror. “i know.”

the world moves fast, but you and seunghyun move faster. the following day—wednesday evening, the night before your graduation—seunghyun’s for the school of humanities and science was friday morning—he met your parents over dinner. his eyebrow scuff had healed enough to ward off worry of you dating a heathen. he was a smooth and confident talker, getting to know your parents as much as they got to know him. he offered an easy smile before answering questions about his studies, or how tennis became such an important pillar of his life since a young age. he mentioned jiyong, but not by name: “a family friend and i have done it since we were kids.” he said, quickly taking a sip of his water, “its stuck since then.” though his characteristic confidence spoke for itself, he sought a comforting grip of your hand underneath the table whenever possible—adding a gentle swipe with his thumb after you explained your bandaged pinky away, “i was packing. i didn’t have a good grip on a storage box.” you said to your parents. “it hurts a lot less now, though. but i can’t do much heavy lifting. that’s where he comes in.” you gestured to seunghyun. he grinned, glancing down at his lap, feeling his face warm through his mounting sheepishness.

jiyong saw you in the crowd at graduation. he heard your name being called, but looked away before you walked across the stage to accept your degree. seunghyun and jiyong were tight-lipped in photos and spoke minimally to one another in their shared graduation dinner come friday night—much to either of their parents’ dismay. not that you were planning on it, but you didn’t attend—spending your evening with your parents, finishing packing your dorm to load the mover’s van the next morning. on the way to meet his parents at their hotel, jiyong drove by your residential building. though it was a simple start to the early afternoon on this partly cloudy saturday, the universe still had some distasteful jokes up her sleeve.

he came to a gradual stop at the traffic light, reaching down to recline his seat a centimeter or two. he stuck his elbow out the window, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. his ears caught the sound of rickety carts, turning his head to his left. he was able to make out the open trunk of a uhaul van—seeing you turn the corner, seunghyun behind you wheeling a steele moving cart filled with your belongings. he saw two people standing by the other side of the van in conversation—presumably your parents. his heart sunk bitterly, but for a fleeting second, he forgot the reason why: i didn’t know hyun was gonna be here, his inner monologue voiced, he didn’t tell—

he kissed his teeth, looking away. why would he? he wondered pitifully. resent brewed between his temples, percolating at the back of his neck. his eyebrows furrowed in muted frustration, not like we’d tell each other anything anyway. sharing their immediate thoughts, phoning the other whenever they were just an iota unsure about something, and being one another’s second nature felt long gone—all in a matter of days. a shared life, disqualified with a swing of a fist. not erased, though. at least not to me … jiyong couldn’t stop himself from looking again. he watched seunghyun and your father lift a heavy storage bin into the van—your mother and you talking to the side. once finished, seunghyun checked to see if your parents weren’t looking, sneaking a kiss to your temple. a silent thank you manifested in your hand rubbing his lower back, bandaged pinky running along the fabric of his shirt.

that was also when jiyong saw your shirt: I TOLD YA, in bold letters. the words were stacked vertically, staring jiyong right in the eye. he had never seen you wear it before, let alone in your closet. though the look of the relaxed gray fabric was somewhat familiar, he was too busy jumping to irrational conclusions. it felt like a subliminal message—something out to get him; taunt him. that he would never be happy, everything he will want would eventually be taken away, and vindication wasn’t part of his fate: i told you so. whilst you and seunghyun were clueless—ushered over by your parents to make plans for lunch—jiyong sped off, tight-lipped; vein engorged on his temple . . .

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seijorhi · 2 years ago

Text

invidia ii

a (very belated) christmas present for my beloved wife @iwaasfairy who has, for two years straight, begged me for more shinnosuke content. i hope you like it bby! kuroo tetsurou x female reader, kuroo shinnosuke (oc) x female reader part i w.c 3.1k tw: noncon/dubcon, slight daddy kink, (forced) infidelity, yandere themes, nsfw, smut, age gap, i guess hints of breeding kink, dilf kuroo

“Why did your parents split up?”

Mid-way through pulling on a pair of old, grey sweatpants, mopping at beads of water from his shower still rolling down his bare chest, Shinnosuke throws you a curious look, but shrugs easily enough.

“They weren’t ever really ‘together’ to begin with. They tried the whole co-parenting thing to start with but mom… they never loved each other. Hell, I don’t even think they liked each other most of the time beyond–” he breaks off, his nose wrinkling in distaste. It almost makes you laugh. “Anyway, dad always said she had one foot out the door from the start. Dad was the one who stuck around to raise me.” There’s no animosity in his tone, he says it like it’s the simple truth. You’ve never met the woman, never having shown up to any of the Nekoma games, his graduation, any of it. You’ve seen a picture or two, overheard the odd phone call, but for as long as you’ve known him, the only real parent in Shin’s life has always been his dad.

If there’s anyone he idolises, it’s his father.

Which is why the words that he says next – casting aside the damp towel in the general direction of the laundry basket (boys) and sauntering on over to join you in bed – take you entirely by surprise. “We’ll go visit her in Golden Week. I want her to meet you.”

And again, the words are just that; words. Shin kisses you, a sweet peck on your lips, and wastes no time in scooping you back into his arms and settling back with a contented sigh. They’re just words, but there’s this look in his eyes when he says it that makes you think he means something more.

Your stomach flutters.

—

‘You really wanna break his heart like that, kitten?’

—

“Still not feeling any better?” Shin asks, brushing your hair back to feel your forehead. The beginnings of a frown start to take shape, teeth gently burrowing into his bottom lip, but he straightens and sighs, and that hint of discontent smoothes over like it had never existed in the first place. He strokes your hair again and offers a small, sympathetic smile. “No temperature, that’s gotta be a good sign, right?”

You’re a coward.

“It’s not my head, I just…” don’t have any visible, plausible symptoms for the fake illness that’s currently keeping you curled up in Shin’s bed. Away from the creep who’d smiled and fucking winked at you Christmas morning. “I just feel off.”

“Poor baby,” he coos, laughing when your face screws up and you swat at him.

Right now, swaddled in his hoodie, his fingers carding through your hair and that stupid, impish, almost believable grin beaming down at you, you want to forget. To pretend.

Because there’s a pit in your stomach. A bitter, gnarled, seething mass. This moment right now, in Shin’s bed, it’s like glass, paper thin and already cracked, it can’t possibly last, and yet you’re clinging to it so desperately, head buried in the sand, willing yourself to pretend, from one heartbeat to the next, that what’s happened won’t break the two of you.

That your stomach doesn’t threaten to upend when you catch sight of those hazel eyes peering down at you – the same shape and shade as his father’s.

You shudder out a breath, and what little levity there was between you two gets sucked out with it. Shin’s expression gutters.

Yeah.

His fingers don’t leave your hair, though. Playing idly with the strands as though the suffocating tension in the room doesn’t exist at all. “Dad’s taking us out to dinner tonight,” he tells you. Reminds you, because you knew all of this beforehand. Everything but the party. “Do you want me to run by the pharmacy to get you something?”

Another tap at the fractured glass.

That’s Shinnosuke all over, isn’t it? You might’ve been the manager back in the day, but it was always Shin who kept an eye on his team, on you, to make sure everyone was good.

“No,” you shake your head. “I’ll–” the words get stuck in your throat. “I’ll see how I feel in an hour or so. ‘m still a little tired.”

“You want some tea, sweetheart?”

‘Shh, sweetheart, you gotta keep it down.’

A cold sweat breaks out on the nape of your neck. No. No, no, no, no–

“Baby?”

You flinch like he’s slapped you, jerking away from the hand he’s wound in your hair. The startled look he shoots you borders on wounded, but you’re already squirming towards the edge of the bed, stumbling to your feet like a newborn foal. “Bathroom,” you manage to eke out, your voice sounding far too strangled and hoarse to pass as anywhere near the realm of fine.

Shin doesn’t follow, doesn’t so much as utter a word – all kicked puppy confused – as you throw the door closed behind you and collapse back against it, a sweaty, ashen mess.

He usually calls you love. Baby. Princess when he’s being a little shit.

Sweetheart’s a rare one.

Your heart races, a runaway train pounding in your chest. His eyes, his touch, sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart.

Another shuddering breath in. Out.

Fuck.

There’s a knock – not at the ensuite door, the sound’s too muffled for that, and you didn’t hear Shin’s footsteps (though you’re not sure you would, over the pounding in your ribs) meaning that the knocking’s at his door.

There’s only one other occupant in the house. Though you try your damndest to fight it, there’s no stopping the wave of panic that stabs through you. Shin’s door creaks open, soft voices barely creeping through the gap in the door, and your fingers go rigid, nails clawing at the black and white flooring as though you can ground yourself by breaking through it instead.

You don’t realise you’re crying.

Not until the droplets splatter on the tiles by your feet.

—

You should’ve left days ago.

After Christmas, when you’d ducked out from under Shin’s arm and lurched for the nearest bathroom, when it’d finally clicked for him that you violently hurling your guts up wasn’t the result of a simple hangover, you’d tried. Short of admitting the truth – and swinging a bat at the bees’ nest – convincing Shin to leave his dad’s place goes about as well as drawing blood from a stone.

He’s even less thrilled about the prospect of you going back by yourself, leaving him to spend what’s left of the week with his dad like they’d planned.

There’s only so far you can push without breaking something. You, probably. You and Shin, almost definitely.

Even so, you might’ve had more of a backbone if he hadn’t been so… Shin. All coaxing and concerned. Logical to a damn fault.

‘You don’t wanna be stuck in a car driving for hours when you’re feeling shitty, love, and besides, dad’s place is bigger than ours. Comfier. You’ll probably be on the mend by tomorrow anyway, so there’s no point in us heading back.’

If you weren’t trying to salvage what’s left, or maybe clinging to the idea that you can – and want to – then it would’ve been easier just to go.

You wouldn’t still be here, stuck in the house of the man who’d– who’d raped you.

You wouldn’t be avoiding your boyfriend’s eye.

You would’ve screamed the whole house down before Kuroo Tetsurou ever bent you over the kitchen counter.

But the gentle extrication in the early hours of the morning, Shinnosuke’s lips brushing against your cheek, the sleepy rasp of his voice as he mumbles a quiet, “Love you,” before slipping away – you barely stir, cozy and safe and content.

He loves you. Shin loves you.

A while later – minutes, maybe, or hours, it’s hard to tell when you’re still in the grips of sleep – the mattress dips under Shin’s weight, and those strong, sculpted arms seek your warmth again, you only sigh and lean back against him.

“I love you,” you whisper, not yet willing to open your eyes and face another day of lying to him.

The arm slung over your waist curls tighter, his face nuzzling into your neck. The kisses he leaves there aren’t affectionate, exactly, they’re not gentle, when teeth catch, nipping sharply at your skin, only to be soothed by a lave of his tongue.

And the laugh that rumbles at your back – a shade off your boyfriend’s – is anything but nice.

“Yeah? Fuck, you’re sweet in the morning.”

This time, you don’t hold back. You shriek, kicking out like a wild thing – or you would have, if Kuroo’s hand hadn’t clamped down on your mouth, if his weight hadn’t shifted so that rather than lying curled up behind you, he’s half on top of you, pinning you down to the mattress with a thigh lodged between yours.

“Uh-uh-uh, we were doing so good, kitten. Don’t you wanna be daddy’s good girl?”

Your only answer is a ragged noise, torn from somewhere deep inside of you. He chuckles again, grinds against you, his cock a thick, unignorable presence pressed at your ass. There’s nothing but the thin cotton of your sleep shorts separating it from you, and from past experience, that barrier won’t do much to deter him for long.

Kuroo rolls you onto your back and slots himself nicely between your legs. Naked, you realise with a fresh stab of fear.

You scream the moment his palm leaves your lips to capture your wrists, scream for Shinnosuke – for anyone – so loudly that it feels like you’ll bleed for it. Let him come running, find you pinned and squirming, terrified beneath the man who raised him.

Let it be the final crack that obliterates everything.

If Shin sees you like this, utterly petrified, on the verge of being raped again and still thinks it some kind of a betrayal, let him choke on it. You don’t care anymore, you just want someone to stop this.

(Shin wouldn’t, would he?)

But Kuroo only snickers. Leans over to lick along the edge of your lashes, where hot, glistening tears are already spilling over, trickling down to disappear in your hairline. “Your boy’s not here, but we don’t have long ‘til he gets back. You’ll forgive me if we bypass the foreplay this morning, right, sweetheart?” You shudder, goosebumps prickling where his breath washes over you, and you squeeze your eyes shut and violently – pointlessly – shake your head. “We’ll have to save eating your pretty little cunt for next time.”

All too eager, he hungrily captures your lips again and yanks down your shorts, taking your panties along with them.

Christmas morning, you’d been shoved face down over the kitchen counter while he’d fucked you from behind. You’d give anything for that distance right now. At least then you hadn’t had to endure his suffocating warmth, having him squeeze and grope at your tits over your old, threadbare tee.

You wouldn’t have to writhe away from his mouth while he rucks your bare thighs up either side of his hips, dragging you closer.

Even with your eyes screwed tightly shut, you can’t pretend that this isn’t happening as Kuroo spits and a heartbeat later the thick head of his cock slowly – agonisingly slowly – splits you apart.

You forget how to breathe.

Eyes popping open and back arching up into his chest, your fists clutch desperately at the sheets of Shin’s bed, trying to squirm away, only the grip he has on you makes sure there’s nowhere for you to escape to. He’s big, long, mostly, and you’re too tight to take him easily, especially without any prep. The spit doesn’t help any, and Kuroo doesn’t care, groaning out in pleasure as inch by inch he pushes himself deeper, until at last he’s seated firmly inside of you. “Good fucking giiiirl,” he purrs, a kiss pressed to the tip of your nose.

A tiny, drawn out whine is all you can manage when your lower half radiates pain.

“Gonna fuck this perfect pussy nice ‘n full,” he tells you. “Give you everything you need, sweet girl. You can take it. I know you can, you just gotta breathe for me.”

But unlike last time, he doesn’t allow you the luxury of a minute to adjust. His hips draw back and punch forward, jolting another mewling gasp from your lips. And again. And again. The pace isn’t violent so much as intense, like each thrust ignites something inside of him that burns for more.

He clasps your wrists in one hand, pants into your open mouth between frenetic kisses, groans out your name in that shuddering gasp.

“Mine,” he pants, beads of sweat dripping from his chest, his chin, rolling down onto you. “You’re daddy’s girl– fuck!”

Your cunt reacts accordingly, flexing around his cock, easing its passage so that the wet, lurid sounds of him fucking you quickly fill the air. A betrayal that has your cheeks flaming.

The muscles in your thighs burn, Kuroo all but forcing them back towards the bed, his weight driving into you with fervour. A quick adjustment to the angle of your hip and his cock hits a spot deep inside of you that has you choking on a moan of your own, a burst of bright, sizzling pleasure bleeding through the pain.

Kuroo grins ferally at the sound of it. Drops his weight on an elbow and bucks into you, hitting it again. Your inner walls twitch, squeezing and slick, dragging noises from you that make you wanna burn with shame – that, or cut yourself loose entirely. You can’t muster resistance when he swallows them down, sucking on your tongue, moaning into your mouth. His momentum turns rabid, his hand no longer encircling your wrists, but entangled with them, pressing them down to the mattress. “Almost… there…” he grunts, gasping as he curls over you, abs flexing.

A shudder rolls through him, his hips faltering just as something vital shatters inside of you, toes curling, white hot pleasure exploding from your core, rippling through your whole body like the aftershocks of an earthquake. With your pussy spasming around his cock, your body taut and locked with pleasure, Kuroo hurtles off that cliff right alongside you, a strangled noise somewhere between a moan and a growl escaping him as he pumps your cunt full of his seed, all but collapsing atop of you afterwards.

It takes a minute before he peels himself off of you; pushing himself up, braced on elbow so that he’s not crushing you entirely, Kuroo waits, buried inside your warmth, for you to stop trembling with the after effects of your orgasm, for his cock to soften and both of your breathing to even out.

Waits for those glazed over eyes to focus back on him and once again fill with tears, stroking a hand through your sweat-dampened hair as he does so.

“You should go take a shower before Shin gets home,” he says after a minute or two, his voice a low purr. “He can’t be far off.”

But aside from rolling off you to allow you up, Kuroo makes no moves to follow you, or so much as get up off the bed. Naked, his cock soft and glistening with your juices, one knee propped up, he watches you stumble like a newborn foal into the bathroom (only half managing to close the door behind you) with damn near predatory intent, a smirk teasing at his lips.

It’s where Shin finds you a short while later, curled up on the floor of the shower, shaking through silent sobs.

—

Shin doesn’t let go of your hand the entire trip home.

Uncharacteristically sober, he says little aside from the occasional murmur to check in with you – always unanswered – and keeps you tucked close, as though a fraction of distance between you might pry you from his side entirely.

The hours pass in a haze of… nothing. Your tears dry. Numbness takes over. You move like a robot, Shin guiding you every step of the way until you cross the threshold of your apartment.

He never asks what happened. You suppose the smell of sex in his bedroom and the bruises and love bites scattered over your body tell the tale well enough. Shinnosuke’s never been stupid. He’s not dense.

He’s not heartless, either.

In the sanctity of your tiny, shitty bathroom, you shower again. A proper shower this time, with the water turned up full blast, scrubbing viciously at your skin– or at least, you do until he steps in and takes over. You’ve never thought of your boyfriend as particularly gentle, but he pries the loofah from your hand with a delicacy you didn’t know him capable of and takes care of you, cleaning you up with a tenderness that borders on reverence.

You pretend not to notice how his eyes (so like his, sharp and hazel) narrow into a scowl every time he spots another bruise, another mark left by his father. Once or twice his fingers begin to ghost over them, burgundy fingerprints on your thigh, a love bite sucked into the delicate skin above your collarbone, only to catch himself, swallowing tightly and resuming his task like he’d never faltered in the first place.

When you’re done, he dries you both off and helps you into fresh clothes – a pair of comfy sweatpants and an old hoodie of his and guides you back to the living room, setting you down into his lap on the couch.

“I–” his voice is hoarse. Quiet, especially in the stillness of the apartment, and when you glance his way, he awkwardly clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “I went to the pharmacy. I thought– I thought…” he trails off again, dropping his gaze. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

Your heart twists, and it’s your turn to comfort him. Or maybe you’re comforting each other, shifting slightly in his lap so that you can wrap your arms around him and draw him in close, burying your face in the crook of his neck and breathing in the fresh, clean scent of him. “No. I– it wasn’t…” but the words don’t come. You flounder.

What are you supposed to say? It wasn’t his fault? Wasn’t yours?

You should’ve said something earlier? Should’ve fought back harder – against both of them, should’ve grown a spine?

A beat passes in the tense, thick silence, and when it becomes clear that you’ve got nothing for him, he makes an odd sort of huff that sounds almost irritated. You frown a little, but you don’t fight it when his arms pull tighter around you, when his cheek comes to a rest against your hair and his hands seek yours, curling around your wrists and stroking at the skin there.

“We’ll get through this,” he vows. “I love you, this doesn’t change anything. It won’t change anything.” His lips meet the crown of your head in a soft kiss. “You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kuroo #yandere kuroo x reader #yandere kuroo tetsurou #yandere kuroo tetsurou x reader #oc: kuroo shinnosuke #tw: noncon

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libbytxf · 10 months ago

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Masterlist of fanfiction- The X Files

Longer stories (5000 words and over)

My Funny Valentine (14480 words) on AO3: Mulder and Scully make an agreement to spend Valentine’s Day together, if they don’t have other plans.

A Coin Long Gazed At (8362 words) on AO3 : A Christmas story that begins with Mulder & Scully exchanging gifts at the end of 'How the Ghosts Stole Christmas', and continues through to the events of Tithonus.

Fierce Midsummer All Ablaze (12793 words) on AO3 : Mulder & Scully develop a standing agreement to attend events as each other's 'plus one' over the years.

Certain Obscure Things (13087) just completed on AO3 : An alternate ending to/extension of 'Fierce Midsummer', in which Mulder takes Scully as his guest on a trip to Oxford, to visit his old university mentor. Floreat is a short story (3711 words) on A03 in the 'Certain Obscure Things' universe. A story about Mulder’s first year in Oxford.

The Light of a Clear Blue Morning (12392 words) on AO3 : Mulder and Scully are back in the field after Redux II; what would have happened if they continued the closeness of the Cancer Arc through season 5 and beyond?

The Congruence of Triangles (5373 words) on AO3 :The final scene of Triangle, told five ways.

...

'The Work of an Instant' series

A series of stories in which Mulder and Scully share a moment of sudden realization about their feelings for one another, while they are surrounded by other people.

The Work of an Instant (2463 words) on AO3: Scully and Mulder attend a game night at the Gunmen’s lair, and change is in the air (s7).

Charade (8358 words) on A03: Mulder and Scully take part in an undercover operation, and Mulder learns something about Scully's feelings for him. Takes place in season 6, shortly after The Unnatural.

How Well You Walk Through the Fire (2362 words) on A03: Late season 6, Scully comes to a sudden realization about Mulder's feelings for her while in the middle of a Bureau policy meeting.

Courage Always Rises (8032 words) on A03: Mulder joins Scully for a family dinner at Maggie's house.

One Indifferent Summer (11759 words) on AO3: In season 6, shortly after the events of The Rain King, Mulder and Scully find themselves with some free time in a small town at the end of a case.

...

Shorter stories

I Need My Girl (747 words) on AO3

Testament (1599 words) on AO3 : This story imagines the circumstances of Scully asking Mulder to be the witness to her living will.

Even in Another Time (3740 words) on AO3 : A post-Redux story, written in 2009.

#msr fanfic #x files #dana scully #fox mulder #xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #txf fanfic #txf #poangpals

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wileys-russo · 1 year ago

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before the void (fresa's version 2.0) II a.putellas

before the void one two II filling the void one two three four five six you can all say thanks to @girlgenius1111 for filling my head with this idea xx

before the void (fresa's version 2.0) II a.putellas

though you were incredibly outspoken now and for the most part a rather fearless teenager, there was once a time that the thought of public speaking made your stomach churn.

you remember where it all started, when you were just six years old.

you'd been given a task in class to write a short fictional story, and even at that young of an age your work was admirable, to the point your teacher after reading it had kept you back in class.

a very flustered eli had sought you out once she'd been informed of your whereabouts by the front office after being unable to find you during pick up.

rushing toward your classroom panic coursed through her at what might have happened for you to be held after class, memories of things your sisters had done over the years to get in trouble never leaving her mind.

though it was sheer relief and overwhelming pride that replaced it shortly after she'd joined you and been asked to read your story.

your teacher then informed that she'd like you to read it aloud at the upcoming end of year performance for the school at the end of the week, and without so much as a look in your direction your mami agreed.

now you were already set to perform, the kindergarten classes all teaming up for an adorable christmas themed group dance number. and initially you hadn't been worried about that, you were with your friends and everything in rehearsals had been kept very light and fun.

you didn't quite understand what your teacher meant when she explained before eli arrived what she wanted you to do, instead just blushing red in embarrassment with the praise about your story, immediately seeking out comfort in your mami's arms once she arrived.

it wasn't until you returned home and it was explained to you properly that you really understood what had been agreed for you to do.

you'd been told time and time again all afternoon by both your sisters and your mami how proud everyone was, your story passed around and read over and over, but the bomb about you performing eli had waited until dinner to drop.

"like all by herself, her own special moment? fres! that is so cool hermana." alba grinned as you frowned, confused by what she meant. "hey what did we say about pulling ugly faces nena." alexia teased, reaching over to smooth out your eyebrows as you pushed her hand away.

"by myself?" you questioned, frowning again and directing the question toward eli who nodded. "sí hija, you will stand up on the stage in front of everyone and read your story!" eli beamed happily but your frown only deepened.

"lots of people?" you questioned again but it was missed as your family all started to plan who they would invite, alexia already having planned on bringing jenni and now eli readying to extend the invitation to almost your whole family.

"do i have to?" you spoke up again, this time not ignored but rather shrinking a little under the three sets of eyes that turned to you, dropping your own gaze to your plate of food, pushing it around rather than eating it.

"sí. you made a commitment to your teacher fresa, but this will be exciting! like alba said, a very special moment all about you." eli smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face as you nodded.

"you're done?" alexia asked in shock as you pushed your plate away, food barely touched despite your normal seemingly endless appetite, a running joke in the family you had a worm in your stomach which ate all your food.

"no! i trained all day, i get it. you didn't do anything alba you don't even walk to school!" your sisters immediately began to argue over your leftovers as eli tried to play peacemaker before it turned physical.

in any other instance your silence might be noted as odd. you were a boisterous kid by nature, with two outspoken older sisters to compete with for attention you knew how to stand up for yourself and assert yourself despite your age.

but you were caught up in how strange you suddenly felt.

your stomach was twisted up like a knotted rope, your hands a little wet and clammy, chest felt all tight like when you got the flu and couldn't stop coughing, the back of your neck felt very itchy and strange, and suddenly your clothes didn't feel like they fit you properly as you fidgeted and tugged at them in your seat.

"hey!" you were snapped out of it by a hand tugging at your hair, glaring up at alexia who stood beside your chair.

"i'm on dishes which means you're helping me dry hermanita, or else i'll have to drown you in the sink!" your nerves disappeared as suddenly you were hanging upside down over her shoulder, giggles filling the air and your performance now pushed to the back of your mind where it belonged.

but it all surfaced once again the next day at school when instead of returning to class with your friends after dance class you had to stay back to practice reading your story.

"now see all these chairs fresa? on friday night they will be filled with people! your mami reserved a lot of tickets so your whole family must be coming to cheer you on, i am sure they are very very proud of you." your teacher smiled kindly, squatted down beside you as you stood up on stage.

there wasn't more than a hundred chairs, after all you didn't go to a huge school, most of the grades only had about thirty to forty kids. but to you it may as well have been a million chairs, and suddenly the room felt both huge and tiny at the same time.

"no." was all you managed out, that weird feeling from last night returning as you gripped your story in your hands. "no? why would they not be proud!" your teacher laughed, misunderstanding as she stood.

"now when you read fresa we have to make sure we speak loudly and clearly and-" your teacher started as you shook your head furiously. "no!" you repeated, scrunching your story up and dropping it to the ground, running off the stage.

you were held back again after that outburst, assured softly by your teacher that if you were too nervous she wouldn't make you read your story, leaving the decision up to you.

nervous, a new word and a new feeling.

but though it seemed the decision was up to you, and your teacher might have said that, alexia thought otherwise.

it was her turn to pick you up from school that day, already running late having left training to collect you before returning as she always did on wednesdays. so to have to be held up again by coming to meet your teacher she was flustered on arrival.

"fres? vamos nena you're coming to training with me." the older girl appeared in the doorway, nearly knocked off her feet with the force in which you hurtled yourself into her legs, a grunt leaving her mouth as she grabbed the doorframe and steadied herself.

"hey hey hermana what has happened? why are you upset huh?" her demeanor instantly shifted, squatting down and hugging you properly as she caught the eye of your teacher who gave an empathetic smile.

"fresa is a little nervous about reading her story on friday." the older woman explained as alexia stood, a hand on your head as your body sagged into hers with a sigh too deep for someone only six years of age, but that was missed by your sister.

"nervous? by friday she will be fine, we will help her practice at home." alexia assured confidently, your teacher frowning a little. "if she does not want to do it she-" the woman started as alexia cut her off with a wave, moving your hair out of your face.

"she will be fine, gracias. now if that is all?" alexia raised an eyebrow as your teacher stammered for a moment before nodding, taken aback by the abrupt confidence of the ninteen year old in front of her who smiled and thanked her again before guiding you away.

"what was all that about, you are nervous?" alexia asked after you were securely buckled into your seat and she was back behind the drivers wheel, catching your eye for a moment in the rear view mirror as you shrugged, not really knowing what that meant.

"standing up there, i felt weird." you struggled to answer your sister who hummed. "nerves are normal pequeña, they are healthy. it means that you care, that you are excited!" alexia smiled in an attempt to reassure you, something which did nothing to move the frown from your feature.

"i don't want to read my story." you answered firmly, crossing your arms with a huff. "well you will be reading it hermana, you made a commitment. putellas women do not go back on our commitments!" alexia reminded, catching your eye again as she stopped at a red light, almost to the training facility.

"no." "sí." "no." "sí." "no! i'm not doing it, my teacher said i didn't have to." you raised your voice right as alexia pulled into her parking spot, turning around properly now the car was shut off.

"fresa. mami has invited the family, jenni is coming, alba and i will be there, and everyone is very excited and very proud. do you want to let them down? make them sad that they do not get to hear your story?" alexia questioned raising an eyebrow, not understanding what was even making you nervous, you didn't get nervous.

"no." you mumbled, dropping your gaze and kicking your feet out, that strange feeling having been bugging you ever since rehearsal as you pulled at the collar of your shirt.

the door beside you opened, alexia unbuckling you and grabbing your school bag as you slipped out of the car. "hey, stop that." your sister knelt down, tugging your hands away from where you fidgeted and pulled at your clothes.

"do i really have to read it out in front of everybody?" you asked, hitting alexia with your best puppy dog eyes making her chuckle. "sí, but we will all be there to support you. vale?" your sister smiled in satisfaction as you nodded, taking her hand and following after her into the building.

normally you were beyond excited whenever you accompanied her to training, sprinting off to greet all the staff and warned time and time again by your sister not to run ahead where she couldn't see you.

but today there was none of that, you clung tightly to alexia and barely gave the staff a smile as everyone said their hello's and the pair of you headed for the locker room.

your sister hoped changing you out of your school clothes and into something you could run around in might perk you up but it didn't work, and as each of her teammates tried to greet you again you barely acknowledged anyone.

alexia just chalked it up to you being tired knowing majority of today you'd been in dance rehearsals, a letter of warning having been sent home earlier in the week that the end of year concert meant less actual scholastic work would be done in the days leading up to it, eli needing to sign her permission for you to engage with this.

and though your sister might not have picked up on your strange mood being a little more than that, someone did.

"hola chiqui." jenni knelt down in front of you where you sat by alexia's cubby, knees tucked to your chest. "hi." you mumbled quietly, sending her the tiniest of smiles as your sisters girlfriend frowned at the out of character behaviour.

"hey your sister told me about your story! thats very exciting." jenni tried with a big grin, poking at you as you only shrugged. "are you coming to see?" you asked, shuffling around and pulling uncomfortably at your top, wiping your hands on your knees.

"of course pequeña!" jenni beamed proudly, but that faded seeing the look on your face at her answer. "do you not want me to come?" jenni asked softly, moving to take a seat beside you.

"i don't want anyone to come." you muttered, glaring at the ground, alexia catching jenni's eye and sending a curious look which the tattooed footballer waved off, hanging back with you for a moment as the rest of the girls filed out for the afternoon session.

"vale. it is just you and me now fresa, why are you upset?" jenni tugged you to sit on her knee, tensing up for a second as you didn't hesitate to bury your face in her shoulder, gripping tightly to her jersey.

"hey hey hey, whats wrong fresita? do you want me to get alexia?" jenni asked worriedly feeling your small body start to tremble as she hugged you tightly, knowing that was always the best way to soothe you. she was even more surprised at the way your head shook firmly side to side at the mention of your sister.

"i don't want to do it!" you pulled your head away and looked up at her pleadingly, the older girl wiping the stray tears from the corner of your eye as she melted. "don't want to do what? hey fresa, in and out por favor." jenni reminded soothingly as you started to hyperventilate a little, copying her breathing as your body calmed a little.

"now, using your words pequeña. why are you upset?" jenni asked softly, lifting your chin up as your head flopped to look at the ground. "i don't want to read my story." you spoke clearer this time, though not offering any explanation even when jenni gently prompted you for one.

"everyone says i have to, but i don't want to. i can't jenni!" you started to become upset again as jenni quickly stood, holding you on her hip like when you were younger, making her way slowly out of the change rooms hoping some sun might help your mood.

"vale. how about i talk to your sister about your story, and you go sit with andre to help him like you always do. sí?" jenni placed you back down, nodding to one of the assistant defensive coaches who was waiting for you, knowing you came with alexia every wednesday and always finding little things for you to do to help pass the time.

"hey! not so fast." jenni grabbed the back of your shirt as you went to race off. "i did not get a proper hello." your sisters girlfriend pretended to be offended, softening as finally a smile returned to your face and you launched at her in a hug.

"fresa hugs are the best hugs, gracias." jenni sighed, shaking you for a moment and rewarded with a small giggle for her efforts. "ah! beso?" she tapped her cheek as you tried to run off again, amused at the way your eyes rolled and you quickly kissed her cheek.

"no eye rolling! more and more like alexia every single day." jenni groaned playfully, rolling her own eyes as you gasped. "you just did it!" you accused, pushing her shoulder.

"i am allowed to, vamos baby putellas. go help andre!" jenni pushed you back by the forehead, dodging the way your tiny arm swung at her with a huff. "i am six now jenni, i am not a baby." you warned before marching off to andre.

"yeah jenni, she is six now!" the girl turned around at the familiar voice, standing up and pushing at her girlfriend who grinned. "you are a bad influence on her amor, so much atttiude in such a small body." jenni tutted as the two of them wandered back to the team.

"don't look at me, that attitude is pure alba!" alexia laughed in defense as jenni rolled her eyes and hummed. "hey-" the tattooed forward stopped for a moment. "about the story, she really does not want to do it ale." jenni warned quietly, surprised at the way your sister seemed to brush it off.

"sí, she is a little nervous. thats normal! healthy, we will help her be ready." alexia shrugged as jenni shook her off. "no, alexia. she was really upset, i have not seen-" jenni was cut off by the blow of the whistle, alexia jogging off toward the rest of the team before her girlfriend followed after her with a sigh.

by the end of training your mood was back to normal, the strange feeling from earlier going away again as you were kept too busy to even give your story a thought.

but after dinner that night, everything changed.

you'd finished getting ready for bed changed into warm pyjamas from the dryer with your bear in hand, knowing you had another half hour until you really had to go to bed and intending to con one of your sisters into letting you control the tv until then.

but you were stumped to see that on your return to the living room it was changed dramatically.

the entire room had been rearranged, the dining room chairs moved to be stacked in rows and one right at the head of them, the couches pushed to the side.

"alexia are you really sure this is-" alba asked again with a concerned frown, jenni having messaged her about your odd behaviour since it didn't seem your eldest sister was taking it seriously.

"hermana!" alexia cheered seeing you, hurrying over as alba sighed but plastered a smile on her face. "why are the chairs here?" you asked with a frown, alexia handing you your story as suddenly the strange feeling returned.

"well since you are nervous pequeña, we are going to practice so you are not nervous!" alexia answered, grabbing under your arms and carrying you over to the chair at the front and standing you up on it. "red." you frowned as your sister took her from your grip.

"you can't have it on stage with you nena, this is supposed to be like the real thing." alexia explained as you deflated a little but nodded.

"pretend we are at your concert. i will be sat here, alba there, and jenni and mami and all the family will be sat watching you, and all your friends families too!" alexia smiled in a way that was supposed to be reassuring but it just made you feel worse.

"but hermana if-" alba started, noticing right away that you'd suddenly gone a shade more pale and seemed to be fidgeting in a way that wasn't normal, tugging at your clothes and rubbing your free hand against your leg.

"alba." alexia cut her off with a warning glare, the two having been bickering back and forth since the topic was raised, disagreeing on how to go about dealing with it, eli out for dinner with some work friends.

"now. remember what your teacher said fres, speak loud and clear so everyone can hear! because there will be lots of people all the way to the back of the hall and we want all of them to hear you." alexia waved for you to start reading as she and alba settled into their chairs, several of your toys filling the other ones which was alba's doing in her own attempt to try and calm you.

you nodded and swallowed hard, holding up your story and all but burying your face in it, mumbling along. "no no no, not like that." alexia shook her head and stood as alba sighed and dragged a hand down her face.

"when you read for people you have to look at them, so they know you are speaking to them." alexia took your story and stood beside you.

"you read a sentence, remember it, and then look up and say it. then you look at the page again, read it, remember it, look up and say it. vale?" alexia explained as you nodded slowly and she handed you your story back.

"you are overwhelming her, she's six alexia!" alba hissed quietly, dismissed with a wave as alexia sat back down. "go fresa. nice and loud!" your sister encouraged, your knees shaking slightly as your face felt hot and you shifted.

just like before the strange feeling returned as you felt your sisters eyes pierce into you, imagining what it would be like with hundreds more as you stammered through the first few words of your story.

"eyes up fresa! remember, read and look up. read and look up!" alexia coached, not meaning to come off as strict as she did but not realising she was only making you feel worse.

"speak clearly fresa!" "remember, you want everyone to hear." "no hermana, look up more!" "we will all be here watching you, supporting you." "you don't want anyone to be disappointed, no?"

her words echoed around your head until they were all you could hear and the strange feelings intensified. your stomach was twisted and churning, hands wet and clammy, chest all tight like you couldn't breathe properly, back of your neck itchy, and your clothes didn't feel like they fit you properly.

then, then came the nausea, followed by the contents of your stomach all over the floor.

"fresa!" alexia hadn't meant to shout, she really hadn't. but she was shocked at what had just happened and thinking she was mad at you you took off, dropping your story and sprinting away.

"nice alexia." alba snapped, standing up and shoving at the older girls shoulders before sprinting off after you.

with another bath and a new set of pyjamas, both of your sisters put aside their argument to promise you weren't in any trouble and tuck you into bed, alexia quite sure you'd only end up in hers later on anyway.

but the bickering resumed the moment you were asleep and your door clicked shut, eli returning home and frowning at the sound of the hushed argument, the vomit cleaned up and living room put back to how it normally was.

"hey!" your mami's voice was firm and commanding as she placed her bag down, both of your sisters falling silent and looking over guiltily, eli raising her eyebrow silently asking for an explanation.

"fresa cannot read her story." "fresa is a little nervous."

both girls glared at one another at the conflicting sentences, at eli's request taking turns to give their sides of the story about tonight.

"she was sick?" eli frowned, sat at the table now with a concerned frown. "sí. it is more than nerves mami, she is terrified!" alba stuck up for you as alexia made a dismissive noise.

"she probably ate her dinner too fast, you know how she gets. she will be fine mami! she just needs to practice." alexia spoke, shooting her younger sister a dirty look who rolled her eyes, both girls awaiting eli's verdict.

"vale, i will speak with your hermanita tomorrow."

but tomorrow, things got even worse.

your nerves now taking over entirely you'd refused to even participate in the dance you'd spent weeks learning, faking a stomach ache and being sent to the nurses office, but your teacher saw right through you.

"hola mi hija." you looked up from the bed you were sat on in the nurses office, a sick bag and a bottle of water untouched beside you, your feet hitting the floor and your body ramming into eli's legs as she sighed.

she'd already spoken with your teacher who'd called, raising concerns for your odd behavior and just like she had with alexia promising there was no pressure for you to read your story, or participate in the dance if that was too much.

eli promised to speak with you tonight about everything, and that was still her intention but she knew you'd be more comfortable having the conversation not at school.

so pulled out early you headed home, uncharacteristically silent in the back seat the entire way there, your mami not pushing you to say more than the few words it seemed you were able to.

"hija. your teacher told me you do not want to read your story, can you tell me why?" eli asked softly, having made you a snack and allowed you some time to settle down before she raised the topic again, not missing the way you immediately began to fidget.

but all she got was a shrug, and not for any malicious reason, you really weren't sure why you were feeling this way about reading the story, and so you weren't able to actually verbalize it.

"vale. well, if you do not want to fresa, you do not have to." eli promised as you looked up with wide eyes. "really?" you questioned as your mami nodded. "no. it would be good if you could try, but if you cannot, then that is okay too." eli assured as you frowned and nodded, the older woman dropping the topic for now and leaving you in front of the tv.

you seemed back to your normal self by the evening, racing around playing a game entertaining yourself as alba was locked away studying for something and alexia was yet to return home from training, dinner almost ready.

"fresa!" alexia groaned as she'd barely stepped foot inside before you were zooming through her legs, almost taking her down to the ground as alba snickered in amusement helping eli to set the table.

"it is a new game she made up, be nice." eli warned, alexia rolling her eyes as alba stood and you raced through her legs too, counting along with the points system nobody but you understood.

having showered at training your eldest sister dumped her things in her room, returning to the table right as dinner was served, all four of you chattering away as usual and you again seemed back to your normal self.

but again, everything changed after dinner.

once more alexia had told you to practice, alba had voiced her argument and eli had silenced both of them. handing you your story and curious to see if you displayed the same behaviors alba had reported the night before and alexia had dismissed.

"remember fresa. read, look up, speak. loud and clear, vale?" alexia coached, ignoring the way alba's eyes bore daggers into the side of her head, the room at least not set up like it was last night but still you were stood on a chair in front of the three of them.

just like last night and every time before, the strange feelings burst forth from where they'd been laid in hiding, biding their time and waiting for the right time to resurface.

your stomach twisted and churning, hands wet and clammy, chest all tight like you couldn't breathe properly, back of your neck itchy, and clothes didn't feel like they fit you properly, your spare hand tugging and pulling as you shifted on your feet.

"vamos fresa." alexia clicked, eli sat between both her daughters really the only barrier to alba knocking some sense into her older sister, grateful for eli nudging her eldest and subtly shaking her head.

"i can't." you shook your head after opening and closing your mouth a few times, trying to read but the words wouldn't come out, stuck in the back of your throat.

"you can." alexia argued, waving for you to. "no." you shook your head, knees trembling as alba frowned. "go fresa. read, you are fine!" alexia spoke a little more sternly, much like her coaches would to her on the pitch, misreading the situation all together.

"alexia." eli warned quietly, but it fell on deaf ears. "mami said i didn't have to, miss luisa said i didn't have to. i'm not reading it!" your own tone of voice raised, nerves bubbling over into frustration as to why your sister wouldn't listen to you.

"you are being silly fresa. read it!" alexia ordered, her own patience running thin. "no!" you yelled now, spare hand balling into a fist. "alexia-" eli began again but your sister was already up to her feet.

"you made a commitment, putellas women do not give up on commitments. you will read your story here, and you will read your story tomorrow. you are fine fresa, so read it, now!" alexia warned, and then it all bubbled over and you snapped.

"i hate you!" you screamed, ripping up the piece of paper with your story on it in half, jumping down from the chair and sprinting off to your room, throwing your door closed as hard as you should as it slammed shut.

a string of angry spanish curses filled the room as alba lunged at alexia, the two bickering quickly and aggresively, shoving one another around before eli yelled for them to stop and pushed her way in the middle.

"you are so selfish and stupid and stubborn and-" alba started, becoming too frustrated to even get her words out. "as much as you think she is alexia she is not just like you. she is normal! she gets nervous! but that, that is more than nervous-" alba growled, yelling now over eli's head who was still attempting to diffuse things.

"she is terrified and you just push and you push and you push, and you made it worse! imbécil testarudo." alba spat, wrenching her arm away and storming off after you, alexia scoffing at the dramatics with a roll of her eyes.

"sit." eli ordered sternly, the taller brunette giving her a look which quickly withered away at the one she got in return, sitting down in defeat as alba knocked at your door.

"hola hermanita, it is just me. can i come in?" alba called out softly, taking your silence as a yes as she pushed open the door. but she frowned closing it again and unable to see you anywhere, calling out your name.

finally, a noise in your wardrobe which was firmly shut.

"are you going to come out hermana?" alba asked gently, taking a seat by the wardrobe door, hearing a faint no echo out from inside. "vale, we will just talk like this then." your sister promised, nothing sounding in return.

"or i can talk, and you just knock on the door. two for yes, three for no." two knocks sounded making alba smile and tuck her knees up to her chest.

"do you want to read your story tomorrow pequeña?" three knocks sounded. "it makes you feel...bad to read your story in front of people?" two knocks. "you think you will let everyone down, make them sad, if you do not read your story?" two knocks again. "but you really don't want to read it?" three knocks one more time.

"okay, then you will not have to read it hermanita. i promise i will speak to mami, and to alexia." a slight creak sounded, the door opening just a sliver.

"can you come out? i need a fresa hug." alba cooed encouragingly, knocking on the door but not making a move to open it herself not wanting to push you.

"i can't." "why not?" "i'm stuck."

"stuck? is the door jammed?" alba frowned, reaching over and pushing it a little as it easily slid, a small hand sneaking out and slapping hers away from inside.

"promise me...no laughing!" you warned, voice muffled as alba frowned and agreed. but as the door opened properly and you emerged, a hand had to be slapped over her mouth to stop the sixteeen year old collapsing into laughter.

"oh fresita..." alba trailed off clearly amused as you sat in your wardrobe, head stuffed into one of your papi's old motorcycle helmets, arms crossed against your chest.

"ven aquí idiota." alba chuckled, offering you her hand which you took and allowed her to pull you from the wardrobe, now stood in front of her. "where did you even find this nena?" alba asked with a smile, fiddling with the clasp which was indeed stuck.

"garage. helps me think!" you huffed, stomping your foot impatiently as finally with a few little wiggles your sister pulled the clasp free, carefully tugging the helmet off and placing it down on your floor.

"there, much better." alba smiled, opening her arms as you collapsed into them, body sagging into hers and a very deep sigh exhaled into her shoulder as she rubbed your back.

"promise i don't have to read my story?" you mumbled, arms locked around her neck. "pinky promise." your sister poked you gently, holding up her hand as you locked your pinky with hers, each kissing the others hand.

you both sat in silence for a little while, your sister playing with your hair and rubbing your back feeling the tension in your body slowly dissapate.

"hey fres?" finally she spoke, your head pulled away as now you both sat cross legged on your floor facing each other. "when you have to read, does your stomach feel a little funny?" you nodded at that.

"your face gets a little hot?" nodding again. "your clothes don't feel right? a little itchy? tight?" nodding again.

"and my hands get all wet!" you piped up, alba now nodding in understanding. "guess what?" she questioned as you looked on cluelessly. "i feel like that too, when i have to take a test at school." your sister revealed honestly, pulling a face and successfully getting a smile from you.

"really?" "really."

"you know what helps me?" alba asked as you shook your head. "hand out." your sister motioned as you frowned but did as she asked, eyes widening at the small woven bracelet she slipped onto your wrist, tying it up so it sat loosely but not enough to move much up and down your arm.

"whenever i feel like that, i play with one of my bracelets, and it helps me feel better!" your sister promised, holding out her own hand where several other bracelets sat.

"so you don't have to read your story hermanita, i promise. but if you ever feel like that, you can always talk to me about it, or you can play with my bracelet and think of something happy. take your mind off whatever is making you feel icky, like reading the story." again you nodded, a proper smile on your face now as you launched at the older girl in a hug.

catching eli's eye who was hovering in the doorway alba gave a small thumbs up, the older woman nodding in understanding and leaving the two of you to it.

a knock sounded shortly after, though as alba looked up this time her eyes narrowed as alexia shifted from foot to foot in the doorway. "fresa?" she called out hopefully, your head peering around to look at her.

"can we talk please?" alexia asked softly, a hopeful look in her eyes as you stood and began to make your way over. "no." you answered firmly, pushing at her legs until she was out of the doorway, slamming it shut again as your eldest sisters eyes widened in shock.

"alexia." her name sounded as her hand was on the doorknob, ready to push it open and try again, looking over her shoulder as eli sent her a look.

"try again tomorrow hija, give her a little space."

but as friday rolled around, your attitude toward her only worsened.

of a morning alexia was always the one who helped you get ready for school. she would help you pack your bag, check you had everything, do your hair for you, help you pick what to wear and sit with you at breakfast normally coloring something in together.

but this morning, you wanted nothing to do with her.

eli packed your bag, alba did your hair and helped you get ready, you sat with alba at breakfast and anytime alexia tried to speak to you all she got was a frown and your body turned the other way, each action like a punch to the gut.

she watched on helplessly as you hugged and kissed alba goodbye, ignoring her once again before you raced out the door, eli sending her eldest a sympathetic look before following after you to the car.

alba also opted for the silent treatment with alexia before she left for school herself, not having been given any sort of apology from her sister she wasn't going to be the one to extend the olive branch given she was right.

that day at school for you was the same as the last, you refused to participate in rehearsals, sitting out to the side by yourself and watching your friends all giggle and run around.

a note in your pocket from your mami handed to your teacher earlier that morning explaining you wouldn't be able to read, your teacher promising she understood and giving you a few small tasks to try and keep you engaged throughout the day.

when you returned home that afternoon it took a little convincing but you agreed to still attend the concert, eli gently explaining it wasn't kind not to go and watch your friends which you'd agreed with, grateful that only your sisters, jenni and mami were coming, the rest of your family coming over for a barbecue on sunday instead after alexias game.

alba taking you to go and wish your friends good luck alexia purposefully kept the seat between her and jenni free, hopeful that you might choose to sit there even if it was just to be closer to jenni and not her.

but when you returned you blanked her entirely, opting to sit wedged in the same seat as alba, jenni rubbing her girlfriends back in comfort as the lights dimmed and she deflated, at a loss for how to make things up to you for once.

for alexia this was uncharted territory. she had always been your favourite, she was always the one you sought out for comfort, she was who you'd sit with anytime you could, she was who you went to when you had a problem.

but now, just trying her best in her own to help you overcome something she didn't want plaguing you for years to come, she'd gone about everything all wrong and the barcelona midfielder was miserable at the results.

after the concert things only got worse. it was late, you were tired, and you were even more clingy than normal.

normally when in these overstimulated moods you'd find yourself spending the night in alexia's bed, curled up with your sister who would trace shapes on your back until you fell asleep and braid your hair so that it would be all wavy in the morning when she took it out.

and that was the comfort you sought out, but with alba, and not with alexia.

the entire weekend in fact you avoided her like she had a disease, out of the house most of saturday at a birthday party removed any chance of alexia trying to fix things, and then not even going to her game on sunday given you'd spent the night at your abuela and abuelo's.

finally, sunday afternoon rolled around and coming off of a 7-0 win alexia was in an invigorated mood to make things better with you, your entire family gathering together meaning you were in the best mood you'd been in all week.

so much so, alba was surprised when you'd tugged at her pants, pulling her out of conversation with one of your cousins.

"i want to read my story." you announced when it was just the two of you alone in your room, alba all but dragged there the moment she'd excused herself. "really?" your sister asked in surprise, taking a seat beside you on your bed.

"sí, i have your magic bracelet to help me now. but will you help me?" you asked hopefully, a small smile coming across the older girls face as you fidgeted with her bracelet on your wrist. "of course pequeña. what do you need me to do?" alba asked gently as you jumped down from your bed.

"fix this." you held up the two halves of paper containing your story with a frown, alba hesitating for a moment as things ticked over in her head. "mm i am not very good at fixing stories fresa. but you know who is?" you shook your head, lowering the two halves with a sigh.

"alexia." alba promised, not missing the conflicted look which crossed your features. "ven aquí." the girl lifted you back up and onto your bed. "i know ale upset you. but she is very very sorry, and i know she misses you." alba continued softly as you shook your head.

"no she doesn't, she's mad at me." you sighed again, pulling at the bracelet and refusing to look up. "mad at you? why would she be mad at you hermana?" alba asked confused as to where this was coming from.

"i didn't do my commitment." you mumbled as alba exhaled, suddenly now putting the pieces together now of why you'd been avoiding your eldest sister like the plague.

"hey, fresa look at me." you did as she asked. "alexia would never ever be mad at you for that. she loves you very very much, maybe even more than me." alba added on teasingly, poking your side as you gave a little giggle and pushed away her hand.

"really?" "prometo. so why don't you go and ask her to fix your story, and then both of us can stand with you while you read it to everyone. would that help?" alba asked gently as you nodded.

"vamos!" alba motioned to the door, chuckling as you took off right away, zooming through and around the family members littering the house, avoiding every cheek pinch and hair ruffle you could.

alexia was sat with a few of your tio's discussing the match, jenni's own parents in town meant she wasn't there to indulge her pity party so she'd opted for the other thing which always made her feel better, talking about football.

but all of that came to a screaming halt as suddenly you appeared, tapping her knee and holding up the two halves of paper. "can you fix this for me please?" you asked hopefully, alexia catching alba's eye across the yard who sent her a nod.

"of course." alexia promised taking the paper off of you, standing and cautiously offering you her hand, almost melting in relief when finally you accepted, pulling her into the house.

a few pieces of tape and a ruler later and the story was whole enough for you to read again, alba quickly texting alexia the contents of your conversation so she knew the real reason you'd seemed so upset with her.

sat up on the desk in your sisters room as she'd worked you thanked her as she handed you the now mended story, alexia taking a seat in the chair by your feet.

"fresa." she'd called for your attention as your eyes scanned over your story, mumbling under your breath. "i am very proud of you." the older girl started softly as you frowned, confused. "why?"

"well, because even though it took me a little longer to see it, you expressed your feelings and your needs and you stood up for what was best for you." alexia started, absentmindedly drumming her fingers against your shoes.

"nena i am very very sorry that i did not listen to you. sometimes i think that i am always right, and that i know what is best for everyone, but you knew what was best for you. you told us that, and that makes me very very proud of you fresa." your sister promised, grunting as suddenly you swung yourself off the desk and into her lap, arms wrapping around her neck.

"i missed your hugs, fresa hugs are the best hugs." your sister mumbled affectionately, kissing the top of your head and squeezing you tightly.

"sorry i said i hate you. i promise i don't hate you, and i am proud of you!" alexia couldn't help but grin as your small hands fell to her cheeks and you frowned up at her as seriously as you could muster.

"gracias pequeña. i love you very very much!" alexia promised, her own hands falling to your cheeks and smooshing them together as you whined and pushed them away.

"more than alba?" you asked, a cheeky grin on your face as alexia shook her head with an amusement smile. "maybe. but don't you tell her that diablillo!" alexia warned, pinching your cheeks again and helping you down.

"its okay...she already knows!"

#woso community #woso #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #🍓☀️

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iluvchick3nz · 2 months ago

Text

O'Knutzy Week Pt II

I hope you enjoyed Part I! Here is Part II, where we get to meet some familiar faces. ;)

As always, thanks to @oknutzy-week-2025 and @lumosinlove !! Prompt word for this day is sunburn.

Part II

London, England, United Kingdom 1 May, 1965

“You all right, sweetheart?”

Leo looked up at his mother from his chair, fiddling with the napkin in his lap. “Yeah.”

“You want anything from the bar?”

He shook his head. “No, thanks, mama. I’m alright.”

She frowned and leaned down to kiss his head. “Why don’t you go and dance, baby?”

Leo shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s just…” He looked around the ballroom, at all the women in their dresses, the men in their suits. He turned back to meet his mom’s eye. “It’s not my scene, mama.”

Eloise sighed. “I know.” She let out a humorless laugh. “It’s not any of our scenes.”

Leo leaned into the arm his mother put around his shoulders. “Where’s dad?”

“Making rounds. He’s got to meet people now. We all do.”

Leo closed his eyes and hung his head back. “Yeah.” He bit his lip and took another look around the room and stood. “Um, maybe I’ll go get a drink, actually. What would you like, mama?”

Eloise brushed his hair back from his face. “A white wine, sweetheart, please.”

“Kay.” He tried for a smile. “I’ll be right back. Go find dad?”

“I’ll go find him, honey.”

Leo walked up to the bar, fiddling with his cuticles. He smiled at the bartender when she came up to him. “What’ll you have, love?”

“A gin and tonic please, and a glass of white wine.”

“Sure thing.”

Leo leaned against the bar, eyes scanning around the room. People were mingling post dinner, waiting for the dancing portion of the evening. He still didn’t know what to make of these “society events”, as his mother called them, even after having been to a couple others. It felt as if they had barely unpacked their bags before the invitations came rolling in. Their neighbor, Lady Potter, came over and talked about “duty” and “public appearances”, educating them all at what she so eloquently called, in a hushed tone, the “fucking lunacy” of society life. Eloise had practically had a nervous breakdown with Wyatt before their first event, and Leo had spent the whole night glued to her side. Now, Eloise was better, and had had tea with a few of the other ladies in the town, but Leo… well, he still felt out of place. Different. Like eyes followed him everywhere, analyzing his every move, his strange accent, his unusually tall frame.

“Sir, your drinks.”

Leo jerked, turning to find his drinks waiting on the bartop. He smiled at the bartender. “Thank you.”

He took the two drinks and was turning, eyes searching for his mother, when he bumped lightly into someone. “Oh, I’m sorry, I-” He balked, eyes widening. “Jack?”

Jack Archer hadn’t changed much since Leo had last seen him, just before Christmas. He looked broader, like he had been exercising, his jawline more pronounced. His hair had been cut and it was combed neatly in a side part, blue eyes stark against the dark color. They were wide, and looked Leo up and down briefly, before he settled on a tight smile. “Hi, Le. I heard you’d moved.”

Leo swallowed, face tight. “I, um. I didn’t know you were back.”

Jack just shrugged. “Father concluded business in Louisiana. We’re here now.” He took a step closer. “I’m happy to see you.”

Leo took in a sharp breath. “You what?”

“Leo…” Jack looked him up and down.

“Oh, Jesus,” Leo said, a little loud. Some people turned to look at him, scandalized. He breathed out. “Oh, I’m sorry, I-” He looked back to Jack, who was waiting for him expectantly. “No. No, absolutely not. Excuse me.”

He brushed past Jack and walked quickly away from the bar, scanning the crowd for his parents. When he found them, Leo rushed over, sidling up to his mother and holding out her glass. “Here, mama.”

Eloise smiled brightly at him. “Oh, hi honey!” She gestured to the couple her and Wyatt were talking to. “This is Lord and Lady Walker, their son Thomas is here somewhere.”

Leo nodded politely. “Nice to meet y’all.”

Lady Walker laughed. “My, your accents are just lovely! It’s refreshing.” She leaned in. “I grew up in the country, and some of these folks tend to sound quite snobby to me, sometimes, it’s absolutely tiresome.”

Wyatt laughed along with her. “Yeah, it’s been a bit of an adjustment.”

While his dad continued to entertain his company, Leo leaned in to whisper in his mom’s ear. “I’m going to get some air,” he said in French.

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Ça va?”

Leo nodded. “Ouais, I just… it’s crowded. I’ll be on the balcony.”

Eloise looked at him for a second. “Okay, sweetheart. Let me know when you want to go home, I can call the driver.”

“Ouais, I will.”

Leo kissed her cheek, then was once again pushing through the crowd to the French doors on the other side of the ball room. The balcony was large, and surprisingly empty, and overlooked a large field. There were some sort of lights set up in the grass and a damp chill in the air. Leo shuddered and took a sip of his drink.

“You always hated large parties.”

Leo let out a frustrated breath, gripping his glass. “What are you doing here?”

Jack stepped up to lean on the railing beside him. “Same as you. Talking. Mingling.” He tilted his head towards the sky. “Wondering why the hell this idiotic society even exists in the first place, it’s quite arbitrary.”

Leo turned to face him head on. “What do you want, Jack?”

Jack shrugged. “Not really sure. I saw you come out here, so I followed.”

Leo rolled his eyes, turning back to look at the grass. “You never do know what you want, do you?”

Jack mimicked him again, hands folding over the edge of the railing. “At one point I did,” he said contemplatively.

Leo snorted. “Oh yeah, really? When, when they asked if you wanted the chicken or fish course for dinner?”

When Jack looked at him, his blue eyes were hard. “I did want you.”

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA 20 December, 1964

“No, no! You’re telling me that you’re willing to throw out a whole entire year because you don’t want to turn the damn lights on?”

Jack shook his head hard. “No, Leo, that’s not-”

“But it is, isn’t it?” Leo shouted. He let out a frustrated noise and began to pull his boxers back on. “I have done everything your way, this entire time. I haven’t told my parents, even though they would be fine with it, I haven’t told my friends. I have kept you a fucking secret, I have kept myself-”

“Leo, you can’t be serious.” Jack stood, wrapping the sheet around his waist. He reached for Leo’s hand. “Le, come on-”

Leo shook his head hard. “Don’t call me that.”

Jack sighed. “Leo,” he tried again. “You know I can’t tell my parents. My father would kill me.”

“I’m not saying we tell yours! I want to invite you over for dinner with mine, my loving, accepting, wonderful parents who don’t give a damn that I like boys. And they wouldn’t give a damn that you do, either.”

Jack tugged his hand again. “Just because it’s fairly accepted by society now doesn’t mean my parents do. And besides, they love you, why would you want to ruin that?”

Leo ripped his hand away to tug on his shirt. He felt his eyes heat up. “I’m tired of hiding Jack,” he said. “I’m just tired. You- you don’t even let me get closer than half a foot to you in public. You make us sit in different seats on the bus.”

Jack’s cheeks flushed. “Well I don’t-”

“What could people possibly think about two friends sitting next to each other on the bus? It’s fucking normal, Jack, I don’t understand!”

Jack looked resolute when he met Leo’s eye. “Well, you’re not just my friend are you?”

Leo whirled on him, bringing their chests together. “You’re damn right I’m not.” He threaded his belt through his pants. “I refuse to be disrespected like this. I do everything your way. I always have the sheets over us in bed, we never do anything during the day, even if we’re inside, and we never turn the lights on.” He finished, adjusting his pants before looking Jack in the eye once more. Jack was pale, frozen, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he was surely drawing blood. “And so I’m done, Archer. I’m done.” He shoved his feet in his shoes, uncaring of how the heel of them tucked under his foot, and ripped open Jack’s bedroom door. “Tell your folks I say hi,” he said, and then slammed the door behind him.

London, England, United Kingdom 1 May 1965

Leo just looked Jack in the eye, not believing for a second what he had just heard. “Excuse me?”

Jack took a shaky breath. “I mean it, Leo. I wanted you.” He looked down, ashamed. “I just- I didn’t really know how to tell you, is all.”

“Didn’t know how to tell me?” Leo asked, incredulous. “I told you what I wanted. I did everything you asked, always, and I just- I just stood there and let you use me.”

Jack narrowed his eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t feel ready to tell people,” he snapped.

Leo shook his head. “You know it’s not that. It’s how you thought of me. How the hell do you treat-”

“Keep your voice down,” Jack hissed. He flashed his eyes to the ballroom. “They’ll fucking here you.”

Leo sucked in an angry breath. “Unbelievable.” He walked over to a small table and slammed his glass down. “Goodbye, Archer.”

“Leo, wait-”

Leo ignored him, trying to contain his quick, anxious breathing as he weaved his way through the crowd to find his parents. He couldn’t see Wyatt, but Eloise was back at their table, standing and placing her wine glass down. He stumbled into his mother’s side a bit when he approached, mumbling a quick apology before talking lowly in French. “Mama, I’m going home.”

Eloise looked worried as she took him in. “Leo, honey, what-”

“I just,” Leo interrupted. He closed his eyes and took a breath. “I just need to go home.”

Eloise nodded. “Okay. Okay, baby, I’ll call the car-”

“No, no,” Leo reassured her. “It’s okay. I’ll borrow the phone in the lobby, I’ll be fine. I just- I wanna go.” He kissed her cheek. “Tell dad I say goodnight.”

“Okay,” she said hesitantly. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

Leo shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine, promise.”

“Baby,” his mother whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I love you, alright?”

He nodded, leaning into her palm. “I love you, too. I’ll see you at home.”

His mother patted his cheek and then Leo was turning around, trying to rush hurriedly towards the lobby of the manor. He spotted Jack out of the corner of his eyes, obviously looking for him, and sharply turned, trying to find another route to the exit. He walked right through two women, obviously chatting, and he tripped a bit on his shoes as he let out a sound of surprise.

“Désolé, sorry, sorry,” he muttered, embarrassed, then was jogging out the ballroom doors.

Out in the lobby, there was no valet or staff member. Leo looked frantically for a moment, aware of the fact that Jack was probably following him. He let out a frustrated sound and continued towards the doors. Their house wasn’t too far, he could probably make it. An evening walk might do him some good.

But when he opened the doors, ready to face the night air, he was met with what could only be described as a wall of rain. He cursed under his breath and ducked to the left, trying to hide under the roof along the side of the building. He breathed out through his teeth, panting, palms clammy. He groaned and let his head thump back, trying to collect himself.

“Fucking British weather, am I right?”

Leo jumped with a gasp, opening his eyes to find a man standing beside him. “Jesus.”

The man smiled, his numerous freckles stretching around his sharp grin. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologized. His voice was a light Irish lilt, but definitely influenced slightly by a British accent. Leo guessed he must have lived here for a while, then. The man ran a hand through his hair. It was wavy and thick, and a nice auburn color that, for some reason, made Leo want to run his fingers through it, just to see if it was real. “I was just saying, it’s all nice and clear outside, and then bam. Starts raining here. Although, with my pale skin I still always manage to get a sunburn, somehow.”

Leo chuckled. “Yeah, well. I’m used to humid and rainy weather, I guess.”

The man crossed his arms and ankles, leaning against the wall. His limbs were nice and long, Leo noticed. “You’re not from here.”

Leo raised his eyebrows. “How’d you know?” he asked drily.

The man looked him up and down with teasing brown eyes. “Because you are dressed way too casually for a society event.” He winked. “I think you look dashing, though.”

Leo looked down at himself with a furrowed brow. “This is very fancy for me.”

“Please, a sweater vest under a suit coat? Not very high-class English.”

“Well, you’re not English, either.”

The man laughed, throwing his head back. “Guilty as charged. I stand by what I said about the sweater vest, though.”

Leo blushed. “I don’t have very many fancy clothes. And I get chilly at night.”

“Mm.” The man was still smiling. “Which begs the question, where are you from?”

Leo opened his mouth to respond, but another man appeared behind the redhead’s shoulder, two coats draped over his arms. “Fish? I have your coat.”

“Ah.” The first man stood up straighter, allowing the other man to come to his side. He was shorter than Leo by about six inches, and had long, gorgeous dark brown hair that fell in wavy layers, about halfway to his shoulders. His accent was French, Leo thought, and his eyes were a deep, forest green. The redhead took his coat and threw an arm over the man’s shoulder with a grin. “Look, Lolo, I made a new friend.”

The other man smiled shyly, nodding his head. “Salut.”

Leo smiled back. “Salut.”

The man’s eyebrows raised. “You speak French?” he asked.

Leo nodded. “Ouais. I do, it’s my second language.”

“Ahem,” the Irishman cleared his throat. He looked between them delightedly. “Well, well, well, we have another Frenchie in jolly ol’ England now, don’t we?”

Leo could feel his face heat. “I, um. I’m from New Orleans. Louisiana. My mama’s Cajun, so she spoke French growing up, and so now my family speaks both. English and French.”

The Frenchman’s smile was still soft, but real when he looked Leo over again, then turned to the other man. “You’re outnumbered now.”

The redhead rolled his eyes and held out his hand to Leo. “I’m Finn. This horrible French creature is Logan.”

Leo laughed and shook it. “I’m Leo.”

“Ah yes, I thought I recognized you,” Finn said, resting against the wall again. “You know, you’re the talk of this stupid town now. Future Viscount Knut.”

Leo winced. “Yeah, I, ah… not really used to that.”

Logan shook his head. “Non, you never get used to it.” At Leo’s raised eyebrows, he flushed, looking down. “My family are members of the French aristocracy.”

Leo blinked. “Really?”

“Yup,” Finn chimed in, ruffling Logan’s hair. “We’ve got a future Duke Tremblay on our hands.”

Logan scowled, batting Finn’s hand away. “Non, I will not be.” He turned back to Leo. “I have three older sisters.”

Leo furrowed his eyebrows. “But they're all girls.”

Finn wiggled his fingers at Leo. “France is ‘progressive’, so they say. England is, as well, but only since five years ago.”

“Oh,” Leo said. “I didn’t know.”

Finn waved his hand around. “It was a whole big thing. Letting women be next in line, letting men marry men, women marry women. A whole field day, if you ask me, just to put into law what would have been normal at another point in history.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Oh, non, here we go.”

“I’m just saying!” Finn said, holding his hands up. “British imperialism kind of fucked it up for the rest of us.”

Logan looked to Leo, amused. “He could go on for days.”

Leo laughed. “No, it’s okay, I like it. It’s a big thing where I am, too, but, you know… American imperialism.”

At Finn’s eager eyes, Logan groaned. “Oh, non, don’t get him started.”

“Too late,” Finn said, sticking his tongue out at Logan. He straightened, uncrossing his arms. “Leo, how do you feel about getting out of here? My house isn’t far, the rain is letting up, and we can distract Logan with sweets and have a topical political discussion amongst just us two.”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “I can have topical political discussions.”

“Ah, yes, I forgot, you must always be aware of topical politics in case you inherit a dukedom.”

Logan glared at him and kicked Finn’s toe lightly. “Allez, Fish.”

“Okay, okay.” Finn looked back at Leo with a smile. “So, what do you think?”

Leo bit his lip, glancing towards the door. His mother wanted him home safe, but she also wanted him to make friends more than anything. He rolled his shoulders back and nodded. “Okay.”

Finn’s nose scrunched happily, the freckles contorting even more. “Yeah?”

“Ouais.” Leo pushed himself off the wall. “But I’ll need to use your phone to leave a message at our house that I’m safe, or else my mama and dad will worry.”

“Ah, yes, the viscount and viscountess.”

Leo rolled his eyes playfully. “Never call them that to their faces, please. Just Eloise and Wyatt.”

“Eloise and Wyatt it is.”

Logan nodded, then elbowed Finn’s arm. “Ouais, sounds good. Allez, I want that butterscotch candy you have.”

Finn leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “My daily life. He’s such a charmer, isn’t he?”

Leo just laughed at Logan’s huff and followed them down the street. “Are all events really that awful?”

“Oh, yes, they are,” Finn said, whistling as they walked. “Stuffy, overpriced, snobby- all the ma’s and dads looking for the perfect match for their children.” He nudged Leo and waggled his eyebrows. “You came just in time, Leo, it’s the start of the season.”

“The season?”

“The season!”

“What is the season?”

“The season,” Logan interrupted with a pointed look at Finn. “Is when everybody starts courting.”

“For us,” Finn said, throwing an arm over Logan’s shoulders. “It’s the time to sit back and watch the gossip unfold.”

“I don’t like the gossip.”

“You say that, Lo, but you know just as well as I that you hover over my shoulder to read the latest Whistledown.”

Leo looked at them, confused. “Whistledown?”

“Whistledown,” Finn confirmed. “The yearly gossip pamphlet that somehow tells all there is to know about London’s finest and all their romantic escapades. Disappeared last year, unexpectedly, but I’m sure she’ll be back.”

“She?”

“She’s a lady. Lady Whistledown.”

“Her identity is a secret,” Logan said. “Nobody knows who she is.” His eyes flashed briefly to Finn. “But she somehow knows everything about everyone.”

Leo snorted. “Well, if she was at the party tonight, the only thing she’ll know about me is that I, the future viscount, an American, no less, went sprinting out of the manor before we could even get to dancing.”

Both Finn and Logan laughed. Finn draped his other arm across Leo’s shoulders and drew him and Logan towards him for a moment. “And that, dear friends, will make for great morning news.”

***

A half hour later, Leo was sitting in an armchair in a modest- or, at least, modest in comparison with the other living rooms in the houses of this section of the city- living room, a fire crackling in the hearth in front of him. There were books everywhere. On bookshelves, on tables, on the floor below the tables. Finn had even tried to move some from a side table to the couch to put coasters down, and Logan had sent him a look so imploring Finn had actually cracked his devil-may-care facade and placed them on the bookshelves where they belonged.

They were curious, Finn and Logan. They had obviously known each other a long time. Their movements were smooth, almost interchangeable: Finn would pour gin into a shaker, and Logan would be ready with the ice for him; Logan stripped off his coat, and Finn helped to take off his scarf next, whisking everything away to hang in the front hall closet. Leo was hyper aware of his somewhat clumsy, long limbs and large frame. Everything seemed so delicate in this house, even though Finn had made sure to tell him that it wasn’t.

As if on cue, a glass appeared in front of his face. “Here you are, Leo. And stop sitting up so straight, you can relax.”

Logan tisked from where he was sitting on the couch, back against the armrest and legs stretched in front of him. He was munching on a butterscotch candy. “Don’t tell him what to do.” He flashed his eyes to Leo with a smile. “You can sit how you like. But you can relax, too, if you want.”

“Yeah, I told you, nothing here is breakable. I’d just drop it and smash it, anyways, so I don’t bother buying fancy things. Except for nice gin glasses, take this, please.”

Leo laughed, taking the drink from Finn. “Thank you.” He took a sip and hummed. “Gin and tonic, how’d you know?”

“I just do,” Finn replied. He sat on the couch and, to Leo’s surprise, lifted Logan’s feet to place them in his lap. So they were that comfortable with each other, then. Finn tweaked Logan’s toes. “I figured out this one’s drink ten minutes after we met.”

“How did you meet?” Leo asked.

Finn and Logan smiled at each other. “Do you want to tell him, or should I?”

Logan shook his head. “Non, you do it,” he said. He took a sip from his own drink, which was a dark brown. “You tell it better.”

Finn’s smile turned a little soft, then he looked back at Leo. “We were at some stupid high society thing. It was my first event after my novel became famous at university six years ago. I’m a writer.”

“Ah,” Leo said, looking around the space with a grin. “That explains the books.”

“Mm,” Finn hummed around the rim of his own glass. “Yes, it does. Anyways, I didn’t know anyone, because I did not grow up here. I’m from the country in County Kerry, but came to study at Oxford. Where someone else was also conveniently studying.”

Logan cocked his head, eyes fond. “Ouais.”

“What did you study?” Leo asked, gaze flicking between them.

Logan turned to meet his eye, his own green ones soft in the firelight. Leo had a brief thought that Logan Tremblay was built to lounge next to a fire. “I studied History. Finn studied English Literature.”

“Obviously,” Finn added.

Leo snorted lightly. “Obviously.”

Finn’s eyebrows raised in surprise, maybe pleasantly shocked by Leo’s sarcasm, but he continued his story. “Well, my book got popular before I graduated, and I received an invitation to some dinner or other around Christmas. It was after the meal, after dragging myself slowly and painfully through conversations with the most boring aristocrats imaginable, that I found this one in a hallway by one of the bathrooms sneaking more desserts and sweets than is polite in high society.”

Leo laughed. “No.”

Logan, to his credit, only looked slightly embarrassed. “I was still hungry. And the servers had just left the extra dessert in the kitchen.”

Finn pinched his calf. “And you love sweets.”

“Ouais, and I love sweets.”

Finn relaxed against the back of the couch and sipped his drink again. “So, anyway, that’s how we met. I was starving, too, so we smuggled some more food and then went to the bar. Logan got caught up speaking to some other snobby important person, so I ordered for him based on what I knew. And I knew he liked sweet things.” He waved his hand in the direction of Logan’s glass. “Hence, rum and Coca Cola.”

Leo’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Mm, it’s good,” Logan said. “And I cannot find the soda much in France.”

“Huh,” Leo said. “Never would have thought.”

“Well, think it, Leo,” Finn said with a pat to Logan’s leg. “Apparently it’s a good combination.”

Leo brought his glass to his mouth. “And how did you know my drink?”

Finn cocked his head with a smile. “We were next to you when you ordered it at the bar. When you were talking with that guy.”

Jack.

Leo coughed slightly and set his drink down. “Ah. Yeah.”

Finn’s eyebrows furrowed. Logan had also sat up, his full torso turned to face Leo. “Did we say something?” Logan asked.

Leo shook his head. “No. No, you didn’t, really.” He fiddled with a loose thread on his sweater vest. “I knew that guy back home. He lived for a bit in New Orleans. It wasn’t- he wasn’t very nice to me, sometimes.”

“To you?”

Logan’s hard voice got Leo to look up. His eyes looked a bit angry, like he could break something just by staring at it. Leo cleared his throat. “Um. Yeah, to me.”

Logan huffed, slouching back against the couch and sipping his drink. Finn was watching him carefully, curiously, as he met Leo’s eye again. “Well, then he’s not worth it.”

Despite it all, Leo smiled. “No. No, he isn’t.” He crossed one leg over the other and picked up his glass again. “So what is it you do, as fourth in line to a French dukedom? Surely you don’t need a job.”

Finn’s face lit up as he laughed, turning to where Logan had his eyes narrowed playfully at Leo. Leo just shrugged and waggled his eyebrows, hiding his smile behind his glass. Logan rolled his own, but sheepishly began to rub his thumb on the condensation of his tumbler. “I, um. I work in the fields.”

Leo tilted his head. “Really?”

Logan nodded. “Ouais. We have farmland here and in France, and my sister’s wife, Ffion, is a Welsh Duchess, so I go help take care of their grounds. And I manage the finances of the farms from London or Nice.”

“Huh,” Leo said, impressed. “That’s kind of cool.”

“It is,” Logan replied, a fond smile working its way across his face. Leo didn’t miss the way Finn had his head resting on his hand, arm supported by the back of the couch, his other hand resting on Logan’s shin. Logan might have noticed, too, but he was still looking at Leo. “My favorite part is taking care of the horses. I like to ride.”

“Do you?”

“Ouais.” Logan nodded. His eyes peaked out shyly from under his lashes. “Do you?”

“Never have. I’d like to, though.”

Finally, Finn turned to look at Leo. He was wearing the same soft expression. “We’ll take you.”

We, Leo thought. We’ll take you.

“Um, yeah,” Leo said. “That’d be great.” He thought for a moment. “And I could bake y’all something. As a thank you.”

Logan perked up. “Bake us something?”

Leo nodded. “Ouais, my family owns a bakery in New Orleans. Been working there all my life.”

Finn and Logan looked at each other. Leo could almost see the thoughts bouncing between them, as though they were having a conversation with just their eyes. After a minute, they both nodded, and turned their eyes to Leo again. He felt a heavy, comfortable weight with their gazes on him that he didn’t quite know what to do with.

“Well, Leo Knut,” Finn said, freckles once again crinkling as he smiled. “Sounds like we have ourselves a plan.”

#lumosinlove #leo knut #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #o'knutzy #vaincre #sweater weather #coast to coast #lgbtqia #love #bridgerton au #o'knutzy week 2025

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sleepyconfusedpotato · 1 year ago

Text

Catch My Breath

The first kiss.

Set in Christmas Eve 2022, after the events of Call of Duty Modern Warfare II.

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x Charlotte “Jade” Le Jardin (OC), Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Eleanor "Ladybug" Graham (OC) Characters : Simon "Ghost" Riley, Charlotte "Jade" Le Jardin (OC), Captain John Price, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Eleanor "Ladybug" Graham (OC), Alejandro Vargas Word Count : ~ 9600 Warning : Fluff with a slight bit of angst, a touch of hurt/comfort, and good ol’ cursings.

Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘Dont forget to come to cpt prices house today.’

You : ‘Of course not. I’m still at the orphanage for christmas gifts exchange. As soon as I'm done I'll be there :)’

Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘Good’

Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘Gaz is making some bangin biscuits and scones’

Jade smiled at her phone as she chatted with Soap. Her mouth already watering from imagining the taste of Gaz’s cooking on her tongue. According to Soap’s and Ladybug’s testimony, his chocolate biscuits were second to none.

You : ‘Wouldn't miss it even if I die.’

Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘Alright. See ya.’

She bit her lip. There's one more question she wanted to ask though. She contemplated asking Soap this or not.

Her thumbs moved across the screen slowly.

You : ‘Is Ghost coming?’

When Soap had invited her to the dinner five days prior, all Jade could think about was whether or not Ghost would be joining. Their one week together in Las Almas made her feel… something. Something really, really good. Something she hadn’t felt in what felt like an eternity. He earned a friend in Alejandro, Rudy, Soap, and Ghost, especially, whom she’d thought of as a real piece of work back in Verdansk. Oh, how foolish she was.

He was the best part about Las Almas.

Dammit. What was she thinking?!

By the end of Chicago, after they eliminated Hassan, Ghost and Jade had traded phone numbers. Jade had his numbers and named it “💀💢 Beanpole 💀💢”, after the nickname she gave to him before they knew each other’s name. They haven’t texted at all. Ghost wasn’t the kind to text first, that much was clear to everyone who knew him. And neither was Jade. In fact, she didn’t know what to text him first. A “hi”? A…

What else?

What do people text each other when they’re trying to get to know each other? She had no goddamn clue. Well, she knew what to text when she wanted to get intel from an unassuming target, but she didn’t want intel from Ghost.

She just wanted to know if he was okay, if he was fine, if the gash on his shoulder was healing well. Because of course, in her 29 years of life, a serious romance wasn’t a luxury that she could afford in her line of work in MI6. She took that lesson from her parents who literally had to ‘die’ first in order to even start. The point is, none of them texted first. They’re just another series of numbers in their contact list.

An animation of dots showed up, indicating that Soap was typing.

He’d typed for a few seconds before the animation stopped for a moment, and then started typing again. He must be changing his response.

Bulky McT 🧼 : ‘If there's food he should be there.’

Oh? ‘... should be there’. That meant Ghost was not with Soap at the moment, and he didn’t know whether or not Ghost would be coming along. A week in Las Almas was enough for Jade to know that Ghost had grown closer to Soap as a friend-brother figure. The fact that Soap might not know his whereabouts was not a surprise, though. He’s the Ghost after all.

But she couldn’t help but think, where was he?

What did Soap type?

“Chacha! Can you help me a bit here? We're about to start the event!”

Jade looked up from her phone, her ginger hair falling on her shoulders as she tucked her phone back in her pocket, swiftly walking over to one of her co-workers, Esther, an elderly soft-looking lady who volunteered for the orphanage - her former orphanage. This place held a lot of bittersweet memories, and it made her who she was.

Her legs brought her to one of the high ladders leaning onto one of the walls of the dining hall. She took many mistletoes from the decoration boxes and swiftly climbed the ladder, hanging the vegetation one by one with ease.

“Do we need this many mistletoes?” Jade asked while her hands worked. “At this point we’re gonna kiss someone by accident.”

“Of course not, what are you talkin’ about?!” Esther’s loud laugh almost broke Jade’s ears. “It’s Christmas, Chacha. The church had an overflow of mistletoes from the donations. If there's a day where we can add as many mistletoes as we can, it’s now. Let's call the kids over.”

“Alright. Let's start this shall we?”

—

The sound of Jade’s boots rang throughout the pavement as she hurried over to Price’s house. She travelled by public transportation from Surrey as she didn't have a car with her (plus she’s not much for driving safely - fake driving licence and… all that). She looked down at her watch to see 7 PM as the cold night finally settled. Each of her breaths turned to clouds in the air, shivering as she didn't have her outer jacket with her right now. She’s never one to be unprepared, but after one of the kids got too excited about getting a Lego toy and spilt a whole glass of apple juice onto her jacket, Jade had to fight through the cold with her trusty turtleneck and only one layer of thin knitted jacket as an outer, clutching the soaked coat close to her chest.

Finally, after what felt like an hour of walking, Jade reached the front of Price's house, immediately knocking on the wooden door three times. She looked up at the massive three-story building made out of bricks, that had a good space in the front yard. The building looked old like a family heirloom, but she could tell that it was pretty much taken care of. There’s a pair of trees that had shed all their leaves for the winter and had a decent amount of vegetation on either side of the doors.

Jade looked back at the front yard. There were three cars parked in front, and she assumed that one of them belonged to Price, the other two should belong to either Gaz’s, Soap’s, or Ghost’s.

The wooden door opened. She expected Price as the owner of the house to welcome her, instead, it was Eleanor, Gaz’s very own Ladybug who immediately screeched on top of her head. “JAAAADEEE!!! You’ve finally arrived!” The medic bursted out of the door hugging her figure so tight Jade might’ve folded. A beautiful burgundy sweater around a tan shirt wrapped her figure perfectly, and of course, with her wavy dirty blonde hair tied on the back with the ribbon Gaz gave her, worn out as it could be.

“Hey Lady! I miss you so much!!” The ginger greeted warmly all the while trying her best to stay balanced on her feet or else she’d fall five steps down to the ground on her back. As Lady pulled away, she gave room for Jade to step inside the warm house, taking a glance at Jade’s look.

“Whoa. You only wear two layers? You’re shivering!”

“Yeah. Apple juice all over my jacket, but don’t mind it.” She chuckled as she took off her jacket and coat to hang them on a standing coat hanger on the side of the door, “Have the others arrived?”

“You’re the last one. I came early with Kyle to bake the cookies and help Price with the food. Soap came second bringing sacks of snacks and drinks, and Ghost had just arrived before you, about 45 minutes ago.”

That caught Jade’s attention, her heart beat a little faster just at the mention of his name. “Just? Isn’t the Captain’s invitation at 5 PM?”

“Yeah. It looked like he was coming back from somewhere though.”

Somewhere?

Lady’s eyes half blinked, looking at her teasingly. “...Am I sensing something here?”

“What? No. No. It's just that he’s um… usually an on-time kind of man.” Jade tried her best to act indifferent, looking away from her to observe the doorway decorations.

“Oh really? I see, I see.” Ladybug nodded, “Because I might have heard some stuff from Kyle~”

Jade’s eyes opened wide at the statement, her mind already racing at the thought of what Gaz had said to his girlfriend. “What did he sa–”

“There’s me trusty Ginger!”

A voice which she could identify from a mile away as Soap’s, called to her. Donning the green military-issued sweater above his uniform, which he rolled to the elbow, he walked in both women’s directions with a chocolate biscuit in hand.

“Well hello there, Ocean Eyes.” Jade softly hugged Soap’s ever-bulky body while he patted her back several times. “How's your arm? Healing well?” She remembered how Soap got shot by Graves in Las Almas and how both of them, along with Ghost, had to survive the Shadow’s manhunt in the city. Even in Chicago he had to force through it.

“You’re one to talk. How's your side?” Soap pointed at her left side while munching through his biscuit.

“You got hit?! Where?!” Ladybug, who’d been in Urzikstan to help Farah and Alex for nearly a year after Barkov’s demise, hadn't been updated much about Las Almas. Looked like Gaz left that tiny little detail.

“She did get hit.”

“No! No no. I didn't get hit per se. We were… breaking into the Las Almas prison to free Alejandro and the Vaqueros - a little bullet missed my hip, but it did leave a teeny tiny graze.” Jade made a little gesture with her thumb and index fingers.

“It wasn't.” Soap retorted, which made Ladybug look even more concerned. “You almost fell from the prison walls during our escape and LT had to catch you and carry yo–”

“ANYWAY.” Jade tried to dismiss the conversation away from Ladybug’s growing unease. “It was quite literally us four against a thousand. So we had our own hits. It was a month ago, right? I literally walked my way here! See? Now. Where's the man of the house?”

“Thought you want to camp in that doorway.” Price's gravelly voice called from the living room, his head peaking out from one of the walls. “Come in and close that damned door will ya? The forecast said it’s going to rain snow unless you muppets want to shovel the snow.”

With Jade closing the door, they all walked together towards the interior of the house, where the warmth from the fireplace radiated throughout the room cozily. And holy shit. The word ‘family heirloom’ could perfectly describe the house. Some of the furniture looked like it was carved specifically for the house, soft carpets covered some parts of the wooden floor, and portraits of whom she assumed as the former Prices hung on the walls. The exterior of the house didn’t do the property justice at all. Soap had said that this was the Captain’s own house which he’d left mostly abandoned since he resided in Herefordshire. She wouldn’t lie, if Price turned out to be a secret old money she wouldn’t be surprised.

Jade’s eyes found Gaz at the kitchen island wearing the same exact outfit as Soap and Price, but with an apron around his waist while he pulled out another batch of chocolate cookies from the oven. Gaz noticed her presence when Ladybug approached him and pointed her way. “Oh, Jade! Come here and eat the salmon. You’re not allergic to fish aren’t you?” This sight of Gaz was pretty surprising for her. He seemed more cheerful and open around Ladybug, contrasting to his serious demeanour in the field. It was refreshing, to say the least.

Jade put down her bag on one of the sofas where Price sat on the edge of it, shuffling a deck of cards in his hands skilfully. “Nope, no allergies. Have all of you eaten yet? Sorry I’m late.”

“We have, and apparently my Ladybug over here is a vacuum cleaner of food.” Gaz was replied with an elbow to the rib by his partner.

Taking her own plate of baked salmon, Jade watched from just enough distance as Price, Gaz, Soap, and Ladybug played a game of poker on the desk. The atmosphere was tense from the rivalry but hearty at the same time, their laughs filled the room as Price caught Soap hiding a card on his sleeves, which resulted in a 50 push-up penalty for the Scot. Apart from the chaos, Jade couldn’t help but find herself trying to find that one particular big man.

The memories of sharing sleepless nights together on the rooftops of Fuerzas Especiales base rushed down her mind. Those moments made up the few moments of peace that they could muster up from the chaos of Las Almas. Just the both of them, the night sky, two cups of tea, and the lights from the city of souls. All those times they spent together completely with his mask on. Only when he decided to take off his mask in front of the 141 and Vaqueros did she ever see his face.

She’s good with faces. That’s an absolute requirement for her job. That image of his face was ingrained in her brain. How the black paints surrounded his surprisingly soft eyes, how the sun reflected his whiskey brown eyes and light eyelashes, the scars on his cheeks from wearing the mask, and his strong jaw.

Jade only wished she could enjoy the actual sight of it once more.

The former MI6 turned her head a number of times, making up blueprints of Price’s residency inside her mind. This house didn’t have a rooftop, and from the looks of it, all the bedrooms are located on the upper floors. Ghost likes looking out at the scenery, so he might’ve gone upstairs, broke into one of the many bedrooms and looked out on of the balconies as he sipped on a cup of tea. Considering how Ghost was, he’d break into his captain’s house without anyone knowing about it just fine.

All the while the others were playing, Jade finished her plate of grilled salmon and found her way towards the kitchen sink to wash the dishes. She came the latest, the least she could do was helping cleaning the kitchen area. That task came to a halt when her phone vibrated. She was confused at first, but when her eyes read ‘Col. Vargas 🤠’ on the screen, Jade immediately accepted the video call.

“Hola, Coronel! Como estas?”

“Hola, Compa! Muy bien, muy bien.” Alejandro's gravelly voice greeted her excitedly as his video showed on Jade’s screen. She could tell that the sun was still up in Mexico judging by the light on his face. He looks like he’s standing just outside his family’s house. Quite rare to see the colonel in other attire than his military ones, but as Jade saw his blue shirt tucked inside his blue jeans, she couldn’t help the snicker that came out of her mouth. She remembered that Alejandro had revealed to her privately that he had two beautiful daughters who lived in Mexico City with their maternal grandparents. “I’m in Mexico City with my family to celebrate Christmas. We’re about to head to church for the Christmas Eve sermon.” Alejandro continued in Spanish, but something caught his eye. “Wait, Jade. Where are you? Is that Soap?”

Jade lifted the phone above her head to help him see the place clearly, “Yes, that’s Soap, Captain Price, Gaz, and that’s Eleanor, Gaz’s girlfriend.” She said in his language. Her fingers pointed at each soldier as they slammed their cards on the table, chaos ensuing in the middle of them. “This is Captain Price's house in London. He invited us all for dinner, and now that it’s done, they’re playing poker, aggressively.”

Now it’s Alejandro’s turn to laugh. “I’m assuming they’re on their second bottle of whatever alcohol they’re consuming.”

“Yep. Looks like Captain Price is richer than he lets on. He has 4 bottles of wine from the 1800s! Can you believe it?!”

Jade and Alejandro continued their video call, sitting in her former position on the sofa. Despite Soap’s slight dislike that they were conversing in Spanish as he couldn’t understand what they were talking about, Jade kept on going. Jade learned that Rudy stayed in Las Almas to rebuild and restore the city after the Shadows wreaked havoc, encouraging Alejandro to leave the city and unite with his family.

“So. Onto the most important topic…” Alejandro’s voice sounded deeper and his eyebrows lifted. Jade had learned after a thrilling week working together that those were a sign that he was onto something cheeky. “Where’s the Ghost?”

Again, Jade’s heart beat faster at the mention of his name, and her stomach grew warmer. Damn it. “Um, I don’t know where he is. He is here somewhere in Price’s house, but… I haven’t seen him yet.”

“He’s there? Have you tried the rooftops?”

“This house doesn’t have a rooftop. It does have a lot of rooms with balconies, though. But I didn’t see any open window from the outside.” Her head started to look side to side, “ I don’t know if this house has a back or side entrance, he might be somewh– Alejandro!!” Jade stopped when she realized that Alejandro was laughing his belly off.

“You’re looking for him too, don’t you?” The colonel guffawed. “Aaah, You should’ve seen your face when you were explaining where he is to me.”

“That’s–”

“Look. I wished you luck with him back in Las Almas. It’s only natural that I asked for ‘updates’!”

“Keep fighting the good fight, hermano.” “To the bitter end, my brother.” Soap handshook the Mexican colonel and sergeant as they were about to leave Las Almas. He then turned around and tapped Ghost’s shoulders twice, heading towards the rear end of the aircraft to unite with Price and Gaz. The lieutenant though, stood still on the tarmac a few steps behind Jade. “Good luck amigos y amiga.” Jade hugged Rudy warmly, tapping her back a few times before holding out her hand to handshake Alejandro. Instead of a handshake, Jade saw a wide grin on Alejandro’s face and opened his arms wide, indicating that he was waiting for a hug as well. “Come here, Hermana!” Jade chuckled, expecting that a handshake wouldn’t be enough for the Mexican. She obliged by stepping forward and warped her arms around Alejandro’s figure. What Jade didn’t see though, was how Ghost’s body tensed slightly behind her. Alejandro sneakily observed the man’s movement, looking visibly uncomfortable. No matter how skilled Ghost was at appearing as still as he could, Alejandro could see that this skill of his just disappeared when he was in Jade’s presence. Before Alejandro let go, he lowered his voice and spoke to Jade’s ear. “Que te vaya bien con el fantasma.” ‘Good luck with the Ghost.’ Jade blushed profusely when she translated that sentence in her mind, stepping away from the hug to punch his shoulder lightly “ey!!” She looked over to his side, finding that Rodolfo was also grinning ear to ear. “I mean it, Jade.” Alejandro spoke in Spanish, tilting his head as a sign that he was serious. Jade’s head nodded in surrender a few times. As much as they wanted to converse more, her job wasn’t over yet. Her legs started to walk backwards, “Gracias, Alejandro, Rudy. Cuidate.” Alejandro observed as she turned around, finding Ghost’s waiting figure right in front of her. She then tapped his chest plate once, jogging her way towards Price, Gaz, and Soap on the aircraft. That sight made the colonel scoff, glancing at Rudy, who looked as amused as he was. Just as Ghost was about to turn around as well to join his teammates, Alejandro called to his name. “Ghost!” The lieutenant turned around. “No te pierdas carnal!” “A huevo!”

“The both of you have forced me and Rudy to watch a telenovela the entire time! Please tell me that you’ve at least done something together after Chicago.”

“We traded numbers…” She said nervously.

“And then? Did he text first?”

Jade grimaced, expecting that Alejandro wouldn’t react well to her next response. “We… haven’t texted at all.”

“NO MAMEEESSS!!” Ale facepalmed on the video call like he just watched the Mexican national football team fail to score a goal in a World Cup match. “Ghost… I swear… you need to do better.”

Jade stood up and walked over to the kitchen aisle yet again and put her phone on a leaning position on the wall, hoping that Alejandro’s shout of despair didn’t reach the other soldiers. “Well– what if he doesn’t want to continue this… whatever’s going on between us?” she grabbed a white mug and a cocoa mix, putting in 3 spoons of the choco powder inside. “You’ve seen how he is. I don’t want to hope too much.” Jade confessed to the colonel, pouring hot water on the mug and stirring the contents with a spoon until the sweet aroma hit her nose.

“Oh you don’t know that yet, right?” Ale replied, “Do you want to have a relationship with him?”

A relationship with Ghost?

That sounded crazy to say, but if she's being honest with herself, yes. Yes, she did.

“Yeah…” She started to walk towards the hallway on the side of the kitchen with the warm mug. The walkway looked narrow and led to the rear side of the house. She guessed that if this conversation was prolonged, they were going to need a place where Soap wasn’t shouting his lungs off. Her green eyes looked to the end of the room, where a wooden door similar to the front door was present in front of her. A back door perhaps?

“Okay. Now one of you needs to start. Ghost clearly isn’t starting because he’s a stupid, bad man. But maybe you can convince him that you’re worth his time.”

Worth his time? “How?”

“Start by finding him.”

The former MI6 walked towards the back door and glanced over the glass parts where the outer side of the house was visible. Just then, she registered a man with a large frame, sitting on the stairs of the back porch. He wore the same attire as the rest of the SAS members - their military uniform covered with a military-issued sweater, and layered further with a familiar black jacket that she’d seen before in Chicago. The man had a mask over his head, but she could see that it was currently lifted up as he took a sip of what she assumed was bourbon.

That’s definitely Ghost.

“Jade? What happened?” Alejandro asked curiously as she stopped speaking earlier.

“I found him.” She muttered.

Alejandro’s lips curved, slowly forming a smile.

“The floor is yours, Jade.”

—

*5 hours earlier*

Johnny : 'LT. You’re coming, right?'

Ghost looked down at his phone, staring at the message that Johnny had sent him, not planning to text anything back.

He hated Christmas. No, he didn’t hate decors, the bright lights, the red, green, and white that coloured the streets and buildings around him. No, he’s not petty like that. He’s indifferent to it.

What he hated was how the month of December always reminded him of the darkest part of his life.

He lowered his phone and tucked it inside his pocket, going back to the sight of his family’s gravestones right in front of him. His mother, brother, sister-in-law, and nephew.

Ghost remembered the blood; the foul stench hitting his nose as he stood frozen, witnessing the lifeless bodies of his family – all surrounded by the colourful lights of red, green, and blue from the Christmas tree that they were decorating. If only he realized sooner that his enemies wouldn’t settle with torturing him. If only he wasn’t so naive and thought that his battles were done as soon as he was home. How wrong he was.

How fucking wrong he was.

Ghost’s tears had dried out a long time ago. Every Christmas Eve he always visited their graves. He’d cry for the first three years, but now he’d settle with staring at the stones, not a word coming out of his mouth. Just him, alone with that memory.

His phone vibrated again. Johnny’s still messaging him about the dinner at Price’s house. Ghost closed his eyes in annoyance and sighed, taking his phone and turning it on to find a few messages.

Johnny : ‘Captain said not to disturb you during Christmas week’

Johnny : ‘Idk what you’re doing now’

Johnny : ‘but I hope you’re enjoying yourself’

Ghost moved his thumb on the keyboard screen, wanting to text Johnny that he was not coming and to stop messaging him.

Johnny : ‘Also’

Johnny : ‘Jade’s coming’

His thumb paused right above the send key.

Fuck.

Why did his heart beat faster suddenly? What was this warmth in his stomach? His memories of his family’s death disappeared, and suddenly all the moments with Jade came down rushing through his mind.

The moment when they met – where they shot at each other in Verdansk, leaving a permanent mark on his left ear – The sleepless nights in Las Almas, the meaningless conversations, their moments in battle together. How beautiful she was when she kept her calm during pressing and stressful situations, the grace in her movements…

Fuck.

Fucking hell.

Ghost had read Price’s invitation two weeks before in their group chat. He already made up his mind from the beginning that he wasn’t coming. He never really enjoyed parties or any form of gathering at all. That’s how he’d been living for three decades of his life. Why did that one mention of her name from Johnny instantly change his resolve just like that?

He didn’t reply to Johnny at all, only leaving the two blue check marks indicating that he’d read Johnny’s messages.

And that… was how Ghost ended up sitting on Price’s back porch. The crescent moon was high in the sky. Little bits of snow started to fall down alongside the windy weather. For the first time of the day, he had his skull-painted balaclava up to his nose in order to take a sip from his glass of bourbon.

When he had arrived at Price’s front yard with his sedan, Ghost saw the amused surprise in Price, Gaz, and Lady’s faces, but he also took a glimpse of Johnny’s smirk on his lips. The sergeant now knew the way to his heart, and it infuriated him. God damn him.

The sun was already long gone by that time, and he could see that the others were already in the midst of eating their dinner.

He’d sneakily taken a glance around Price’s luxurious house.

No Jade yet.

Ghost had conversed for a while with Price, took his own plate of baked salmon, poured himself a glass of bourbon, and excused himself to the back door. For an hour and a half, he sat right there, slowly sipping on his alcohol. Just as he thought that she wasn’t coming and that Johnny had lied to him, the wooden door behind his back opened.

He turned around and found the woman herself.

Jade.

Her ginger hair was braided like usual, but stopped on the back of her head, letting the long hair run freely down her back and shoulders. The deep red turtleneck which usually looked out of place in warm weather such as Las Almas currently fitted perfectly on her figure. A green pair of wide pants hung from her hip, letting the fabric run freely downwards instead of wrapping around her legs like the jeans he’s used to seeing her wearing during their mission together.

Ghost caught her green eyes, reflected by the moonlight, and he could easily tell that she wore some sort of makeup. What the name was he couldn’t bother to remember, but she looked… beautiful.

His heart was already beating pretty fast from the alcohol, but now it’s going even faster, and don’t even start about the butterflies that were flying rampant inside his stomach right now.

She only stared at him, her breaths turning to cloud along with the vapour from the cocoa mug she was holding. For a few seconds, they stayed like that, until Jade finally started.

“Why aren't you inside? It's cold.”

Can you miss someone’s voice? Apparently you can, judging by the unexplainable sense of relief that washed over him after he heard her voice. The last time he heard her voice was back in Chicago, a month ago. He then turned around again, facing Price's plain backyard to try hiding any signs from his exposed mouth that she might read. The former MI6 had this scary skill to read every body language of any person. Sure, he had a mask up to his nose, but he wouldn’t take any chances.

“I don't like parties.” He replied.

“It's cold.”

“Better than whatever's going inside. And I have my friend right here to keep me warm.” He slightly lifted the bourbon glass, shaking it slightly to make the content swirl.

Jade hummed. She observed his glass and noticed the alcohol. For all their nights in Las Almas, Ghost always drank tea, never alcohol. Of course, they were in active duty, so drinking liquor could cost them so much, but he'd said himself that he pretty rarely drinks, since Ghost had confessed that he liked being in control of what he did. She wondered why he was drinking, but she let it go. Instead, Jade stepped two stairs down, and sat beside Ghost’s left, drinking her own cup of hot chocolate.

“Why are you here?” Now it's Ghost’s turn to start.

She wondered how to answer that. If she's being honest, the answer would be ‘to be with you’, but she deleted that response in her mind.

“I… don't really like parties.”

“…You don't look the type.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What’s ‘my’ type?”

Ghost took another sip from the glass, “Likes being around people. Gets your energy from a communal space.”

The former MI6 scoffed. “Fooled you right there. Maybe it’s just me, but being around people automatically sets me in observation mode. Don’t get me wrong, I like people. It’s just tiring.”

“Hm.”

Another few seconds of silence, before she continued. “What about you? Why are you here?”

“Gets noisy inside, especially if Johnny's starting to lose his grip on reality.” Ghost immediately answered, almost like he expected Jade to ask him that. “He’s a screamer.”

“Hey how's your graze wound? It's healing well right?

Jade suddenly asked, which surprised Ghost. He glanced at Jade, finding the woman herself looking straight into his brown eyes. He should admit, her face so close to his caught him off-guard, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, creating a cloud in the air. Ghost then took a sip from his glass again before answering. “Yeah. I changed the dressing every once in a while. It's just a scab now. “ To be honest, he kind of forgot about the wound on his right shoulder. It was disgustingly painful during their time in Las Almas and Chicago considering how he must carry the chestplate and his gears on that shoulder. The memory of Jade tending to that wound of his at the safehouse came rushing down his brain.

“Okay, that's a relief then. Just make sure you don't scratch it or it'll open again.”

“I know the drill, Midget, I’m not a kid. This isn't my first rodeo. What about you?”

“Wh-what about me?”

“Your hip.”

The former MI6 sucked both of her lips between her teeth. “It’s fine.”

“Fine how?”

Jade now looked at Ghost’s brown eyes, intensely gazing at her own. He wasn’t taking ‘It’s fine’ as an answer. He was always an intense person. She suddenly remembered the feeling of being safe in his hands when he carried her towards the van, arms under her shoulder and knees when she couldn’t bear the pain in her hip any longer.

How Ghost had slept the whole night, in a sitting position on a chair beside her bed in the safehouse with his mask on, staying right by her side.

“Oi. Midget. I’m asking you.”

That snapped her out of her thoughts. “Huh? Yeah! It’s a bit itchy at times, but I can manage. It’s healing well.”

That answer seemed to finally satisfy him. “Hm.”

Jade went back to her hot chocolate, but Ghost didn’t leave her. He could see her shivering a little bit in the cold. The tip of her nose and ears had turned rosy.

“You cold?”

“Hm? No! No, not at all. Why?"

“You're shivering. And where's your jacket? A single layer of sweater won't help with this fucking weather.”

“Well– About that. I was at the orphanage for Christmas gift trading earlier before coming here. One of the kids got… too excited and spilt apple juice all over my jacket, so I had to take it off.” She admitted.

“What, you're gonna freeze yourself to death here? It's 1 degree out.”

“I don't want to be insiiiide.” Jade whined, almost childish. A sight Ghost would never admit he found cute.

“Your survival instincts are out of the damn window. I thought you were a seasoned MI6 black agent.” Somehow he found more ways to ridicule her.

The ginger scowled, pouting her lips before standing up “…Whatever, I'm going inside”

“Fuckin’ hell– stay. Stay here. Sit back down.” Ghost’s swift hand grabbed her forearm a bit too harshly, prompting her to balance her hand as a drop of her hot chocolate spilt out to the white snow below.

“Why? You want me to freeze to death?” Regardless, she sat back down, closer to his body now.

“You're the only company I've got that isn't annoying. So stay here.” Ghost unexpectedly moved his arms to take off his black jacket, revealing his green sweater underneath, and much to Jade’s surprise, his arms loomed over her and rested the dark clothing around her shoulders. Her bewilderment failed to hide itself when his hand patted her shoulder a couple of times to set it in place. “There. Better?”

Wow. It’s… warm. And most importantly, It’s his warmth.

One of her hands left the warm mug, softly tracing her fingers along the hem of the jacket to tuck it closer to her chest. “...Better.”

Shit. Ghost didn’t know the sight of Jade beneath his jacket would create more butterflies to fly like bees inside his stomach. In an attempt to suppress it, he sighed, leaning back and closed his eyes to take a deep breath.

…before he opened his eyes, finding a mistletoe hanging right above them, placed neatly. And purposefully. It’s like a damned grenade trap. “…Fuckin’ hell…”

“STOP SWEARING!!” Jade exclaimed, annoyed at his shortage of vocabulary. “You've said those words twice in the same mi– What are you looking at…?” Jade looked at Ghost, who was leaning back while his head hung backwards on his neck.

She looked up as well, finding the mistletoe that made him swear. “…oh, blimey.” There was not a single Christmas decoration on the back side of the house but this one. Price was a person who had a high attention to detail, but Christmas decoration was not one of them. Heck, he barely decorated the house at all. That thing was hung far too strategically.

Both Ghost and Jade were thinking of the same thing.

Soap.

Ghost sighed, “Just ignore it.”

“But it's bad luck though.” Jade thoughtlessly said.

“You don't really believe that, do you.”

“Well I don't! It's hanging vegetation. Still, I'm saying it could be true.” Her hands gestured at the mistletoe above her.

“What, you want a kiss?”

The woman gasped, almost offendedly. “HUH? KISS YOU??”

“Who else is underneath this fucking mistletoe?”

She joked, trying desperately to hide her panic at the thought of kissing him. “A ghost.”

“Fucking funny. Also what's with you? It's just one kiss.”

Jade stopped speaking. Her eyes widened as she pursed her lips. “Um…. I just don't…”

Confusion fell down Ghost’s half-masked expression, quickly reading her reaction, until he got to the conclusion. “...Don't fucking tell me you haven't had your first kiss yet.”

When he saw how Jade couldn’t respond anymore, Ghost pinched his forehead.“Bloody hell... Then why did you say you want it?!”

“I NEVER SAID I WANT IT??? I just said that the bad luck thingy could be true!”

“Well fuck us for five hundred years then!”

“DAMMIT– OKAY!! KISS ME!”

Those words perplexed him, not realizing that he was practically glaring at her that his eyes might come out of its socket. The ever-present black paint around his eyes didn’t help to ease the tension either. Jade herself didn’t know which thunder slapped her that she said those words. She wasn’t the kind of person to just spout things without thinking of the consequences first.

Ghost observed Jade’s face, trying to read her expression, to see whether or not she was joking or serious. Because in the deepest part of his heart, he’d hoped that she was joking. But even deeper, he hoped that she wasn’t. “…you don't mean that.”

Jade wondered if her mouth had disconnected from her brain. What she was saying came out literally the opposite of what her instincts were. “You heard me. You can kiss me. Just a peck though.” What was she thinking? This was NOT what she wanted to say. Or was it? “How many women have you kissed?” Aaand now she’s prying onto his past? Great job, Jade.

He used to be young, that’s for sure. Despite his father and brother mocking him and his mother for it, he used to go to school and met a few women during his learning days. Only two of them, though, and that was all before he got into military. He didn’t know what commitment was back in the day, and his ‘girlfriends’ didn’t know that either. “...a few.”

“Were they experienced?”

“Probably so.”

Okay, so he had some experience. That somehow made her feel easy. “Well… I have zero experience on the act. So… be gentle, okay?”

“…Fine.“ Ghost breathed as he put down his almost-empty glass on the stone staircase behind him, finding Jade doing the same.

The coldness of the wind prickled her skin, making her realize that this was not a dream. He’s about to kiss her, and it’s from a mistletoe. Out of nowhere, she remembered the overflow of mistletoe that the orphanage received earlier. Could that be a sign? Either way, she snapped back to her current state, where Ghost was visibly looking at her lips, and that sight made her heart drum twice the speed. At this point, she might explode. “Okay. So… what do I do? Do I tilt my head a little, or do I open my lips just a little bit? Should I lean in to kiss you too? Or like–”

“Just. Stay. Still.” Ghost shut her up before she could blabber more.

“Okay okay okay”.

Jade watched Ghost secure his mask up to his nose, revealing his mouth. When she glanced at his lips, Jade could see a tinge of red on his cheek, but she could dismiss that as a reaction to the cold or from the alcohol he was drinking. When he leaned in slowly, Jade could see him so close, the closest he's ever been to her. His eyelashes were longer than she's ever realised, fluttering against his skin, the little healed scars on his face–

Jade sucked her lips into her teeth, "WAIT WAIT WAIT." Making the man flinch and pull away in confusion.

"What?! Do you wanna do this or not?!" Ghost exclaimed.

"I do, I do! It's my first time! Just–”

“I said all you need to do is stay. Still.”

“I've never done this before, literally! I'm 29 and I've never kissed someone!”

Ghost fell silent as Jade hid her face on her palm.

“…I have never fallen for anyone before.” She confessed. “I wanted my first kiss to be with the one and only, and now… “ Her hands wildly gestured to the mistletoe above them, “someone happened to put a mistletoe right above us.”

Jade was a lot of things. A formidable fighter, a dependable ally, a brave operator who’d jump from a cliff with you, a spawn of the devil herself when she does her thing. However, at that moment, Ghost didn’t see any of those at all. All she saw was a vulnerable woman, curled up in a ball because she couldn’t fathom the concept of a single kiss.

After a few moments of him letting her collect her thoughts, Ghost muttered, “…Jade, if you're not ready, then we can just pretend that it doesn't exist. You don't have to.”

“You know what?” She tapped both of her knees with a considerable force, like she just made up her mind about something. “I gotta start somewhere right? Besides, when I finally kiss my man, I need to work on my kissing game.”

Ghost couldn’t help the scoff out his mouth. And… ‘her man’, huh? That could be a dream. “'Kissing game'?”

“Yes! Gotta…know what it feels like, at least?”

Ghost observed her expressions yet again. The woman in front of her was looking at him like she’s about to surrender her life to his hands. What, was he about to shoot an apple above her head? To him this was just a kiss after all.

Or was it?

Jade wasn’t his girlfriends during his younger days. She’s an extraordinary woman like no other.

“…Okay. Look. We're gonna do this slowly. I will do all the work while you can just stay there. Does that work with you?” Ghost started, looking at Jade in the eyes.

She put on the bravest face she could muster up and proceeded with a nod.

“Say it.” The deep timbre of his voice sent shivers down her spine, because of course, it wasn’t enough for him.

“Okay, Ghost.”

“Good. Close your eyes, Jade. Just calm down. Trust me.

As she closed her eyes, she breathed the cold winter air deeply before letting them out. Now that her vision was no more, her other senses had heightened. The sharp cold air stabbing her skin, the smell of hot cocoa on her hands, the faint scent of something that could only come from Ghost's jacket wrapped around her shoulders.

For a good amount of time, she didn't feel anything other than her surroundings. Jade was expecting something on her lips. Anything from the man that was sitting right in front of her, but none came. She was about to open her eyes and call his name, until something touched her chin, lightly lifting her head to face upwards. And just then, Jade finally felt a soft, tender kiss on her forehead. His lips stayed there only for a second before they parted with her skin, yet it felt like she longed for it for more than eternity. No one has ever laid their lips on her skin before. No one.

What she was expecting was something on her lips, not her forehead, so when Jade was about to open her eyelids, again, he stopped her by putting his fingers on her left cheek, tenderly sliding them from her rosy cheek to the back of her ear, taking the stray strands of her red hair with them. The hands that killed, that murdered many so more could live, were gingerly touching her face with an unexpected amount of softness. She didn’t know his hands were capable of doing such delicate movements, and neither did he.

Before she could register what was happening, she felt him getting close again, and for the second time, her expectation betrayed her when Ghost kissed her cheek, just right under her eye. The kiss lasted longer than the one on her forehead, yet Jade couldn’t find any reason to complain. If anything, she wanted his lips to stay on her cheek longer than that. To feel him closer, to feel him more.

Ghost’s fingers moved on backwards from behind her ear, going through the wilds of her undone hair and finding its place on the back of her head. Heart racing, Jade was expecting another kiss that was not in the designated place. However, when his deep, raspy voice softly said to her, “I’m going to kiss you now.”, she found herself giddy with her eyes closed. Part of her wanted to open her eyes and see what was going on right in front of her, but the other part stood strong against it, not wanting to ruin the moment.

So when she felt him closing in, Jade gave all control over to him. She relaxed herself, letting Ghost gently pull her head closer to his, to at last, close the distance between their lips.

It was the softest, slowest kiss possible, filled with unsureness on her part, yet with a sense of certainty and confidence from him, and because of that, Jade let him do his part, leading the kiss to the point that it was enjoyable and… lovely.

The kiss lasted for only a mere 5 seconds at most, but it felt like hours. Ghost reluctantly pulled back and saw that Jade had already opened her green eyes. Her face was painted with shyness and shock, a pleasant one, as she saw that Ghost had removed his mask entirely, his face right in front of hers, his brown hair still a bit dishevelled from removing his balaclava.

Jade was a heavily trained warrior and an exceptionally skilled individual who stayed calm in times of distress and emergency on the battlefield, a force to be reckoned with, and could be an absolute menace when she wanted to be. Now, seeing the same woman like this – dazed, wide-eyed, a blushing mess, and taken aback by a simple kiss – The sight made him smile softly.

If only she'd known how long he'd wanted to do that to her.

Palm still resting on the side of her neck, he asked her, “How was that for a first time?”

Jade looked like a robot losing its ability to function. There were no words in her brain to respond to his question. Scratch that. It looked like she didn’t even register what his question was.

Seeing her so flabbergasted made him let out a deep chuckle. “Midget. I’m talking to you.”

That bastardized nickname snapped her out of her thoughts, making her blink rapidly, seemingly trying to sort her jumbled brain. Jade looked at the man who just claimed her first kiss right in his dark, brown eyes.

He’s still right in front of her, face looking at her delightfully with a sweet smile, not like the usual dark, ready-to-kill gaze. It’s almost like looking at a different person entirely.

“Uh… Umm–” Jade couldn’t form words.

Another chuckle, “You okay?”

"...this is a weird request, but" A pause, "Can you… do that again?"

Never in a thousand lifetimes, he would ever expect that answer from her. "...You want me to kiss you again?"

"Yeah. Can you do that?" She spoke with a low voice. "Please?"

His eyes opened wide at her request. Confused, but amazed at the same time. Did that request mean she liked it? Her expressions said that she did, though. Or did she just want to make sure? Nevertheless, Ghost decided to oblige and leaned in again to kiss her.

Jade closed her eyes again and felt his lips against hers for the second time that night. His kiss was as soft and as tender as the first time. This one, though, she decided to take in the feeling of his rough lips, the way he tilted his head to fit hers, the way his large hand lightly pulled her in and softly kissed her. All the sensations she felt from his actions became ecstasy.

Her hands lifted their way up to find Ghost's cheeks. Jade could swear she heard a small gasp from the man. Fingers gliding along the side of his face, she could feel his stubbles grazing her skin. It was such a surreal sensation, to think that this is the face of the man who got branded as a ghost, a myth, who wears the mask to hide who he is. Right now, she's having her palm on the skin of his face, and he allowed her to.

No one had touched the skin on his face in years. No one ever managed to get their hands on his face save for enemies who sought to kill him and punched his mask before meeting their demise with his knife. The only form of touch he remembered was of his father, who was all but loving.

With the tip of her thumb, Jade traced the scars on his face. Her warm hands instantly built a gentle fire on his skin. The feeling of such a tender touch was almost like meeting a stranger to him. But if it's a stranger, why did he find himself missing it so much? Why did he yearn for it so? Her touch ignited a warmth that he never knew he needed.

At that time, the woman he was kissing felt more like home than anything and anyone ever did. He felt like he could just melt right there and then. Here Ghost thought that he was the one kissing her, but now it was like she was the one casting some sort of magic spell on him.

Soon, their hands moved, Jade’s hands left his cheeks and found his wrist who was holding the back of her head. He almost forgot the feeling of someone’s hand on his own, but before he knew it, he felt her other hand grasping his sweater, right above his heart, crumpling the cloth. As they went on, he couldn’t just stay still anymore. Ghost’s other hand also found its way to her back, lightly pressing on her. He wanted her closer, he needed her close.

Ghost snapped himself out of his thoughts and pulled back, catching Jade off guard.

The both of them looked into each other's eyes as they caught their breaths, not noticing that they'd been kissing for the last minute. Faces extremely red from racing hearts and rushing blood, clouds of cold air escaping their mouth from the cold, for a moment they thought they knew this was just because of a single mistletoe, yet deep down, they knew this was something more.

Not hearing anything from one another, Ghost took his hand back from her neck and waist as Jade parted her hands from him to her lips with her hands.

The man spoke first, "You need more?"

"Yes– I mean– No! That was enough." Words stumbled their way out of her mouth. "Uh… So… that happened. I just had my first kiss."

Ghost couldn't help the smile, "I just stole your first kiss."

"No. You didn't steal it." She denied, "If anything, I'm glad you are my first kiss."

Hearing those words, Ghost could feel his heart racing again, the world suddenly felt warmer.

"I'm sorry you have to kiss me, though. You've always hated me." Jade continued with a laugh.

"Who says I hate you?"

That made her look at him, and what she saw was the most gentle face she'd ever seen him. Again, she didn't know he was capable of that expression. "If I hated you, I wouldn't ask you to stay, wouldn't I?"

That's a true statement. "You're right. So we're past the "stay away from me" phase now?"

"Our first meeting was in Verdansk. Situation was out of control and we were off to a bad start." He explained, "And we just kissed. We're way past that now."

Smiling, Jade pursed her lips before saying, "So… are we still friends?"

"Friends?" He glanced at her.

"Yep."

"Friends then." Confirmed Ghost.

"Who just kissed each other."

"Because someone hung a fucking mistletoe on the back porch." He retorted while gesturing to the decoration above them.

The woman laughed out loud before looking at the man, who was also having a chuckle of his own.

That's the first time she heard him – saw him – this happy. Had he always been this… handsome? She'd only looked at his face once before, which was when he revealed himself to the team in the Los Vaqueros safehouse in Las Almas, and then, never again.

But if this was what Jade could see beneath the mask – his happy face, the crows feet on the corners of his eyes, the corners of his lips turning upwards, and the fact that she just learned that he had shallow dimples when smiling – then she wished the mask could just disappear. Forever.

Because after this… he would put on that mask again.

This might be the last time she saw him without the mask.

When would she see him without it again?

Out of nowhere, some unexplainable force of will inside her made Jade lean in and left a peck on Ghost's cheek.

The SAS lieutenant instantly looked at the woman, flabbergasted.

Jade herself gasped loudly, covering her face in disbelief of her own action. She couldn't see it, but in his eyes, her face was as red as her hair.

Why did she do that? What made her do that?!

They swore it was the most deafening silence in their lives. Both of them stayed like that for a good 10 seconds, seemingly trying to make sense of what the fuck just happened.

"Oh my God… OH MY GOD. I’M SORRY. I’M SORRY!” Jade uttered in absolute panic.

Ghost stayed still in silence, his eyes wide open glaring at hers.

Oh shit. Shit shit shit. He’s mad. HE’S MAD.

“It– It's freezing! I'm going inside!" Jade scrambled to stand up, taking the cocoa mug with her and went to the doorway, before remembering that she still had Ghost's jacket on her shoulder.

"Ja- Lottie! Wait–" He was about to stand up to follow her, but his words got cut by his jacket flying straight to his face. When he removed the clothing, she'd already disappeared into the merry party inside.

Touching the part where Jade kissed him, Ghost slowly stared back at the falling snow in front of the porch. He hadn't worn his jacket yet, and somehow he didn't feel cold at all.

It's so hot.

It's too hot.

He buried his face in his palms, before running them through his brown hair. She didn't have to do that, didn't she? There was a mistletoe, they kissed because of it, and that was it, right?

Then what was that peck for? There wasn't any obligation involved that required her to kiss him again.

Ghost could feel his heart pumping blood faster than it ever did, faster than when he was on the battlefield, faster than when he ran laps every day. Butterflies were rushing deep inside his stomach, flying all around his insides like it just wanted to break out of his body.

He didn't know why, but if the kiss and her touch were a gentle fire that built slowly, that little peck felt like he just got struck by a damn thunder.

Violently.

And yet, he was so happy about that little peck - weirdly more so than the kiss - Too fucking happy.

Ghost grasped the sweater right above his heart before muttering to himself,

"Fuckin’ hell…"

Jade didn't melt his cold heart.

She set it on fire.

—

Price couldn’t believe the situation he was in.

His sergeants, Kyle and Soap, along with Ladybug, leaning on the back door of his house, looking at Ghost and Jade kissing at his back porch. Fucking spectacular.

“See, Gaz?! I told you–”

“SHUT UP Mate they’re gonna hear your loud arse.” Gaz nudged the drunken Scot’s rib to silence him.

Nevertheless, the plan worked. Gaz and Ladybug was the provider of the decorations since Price didn’t have any Christmas Decorations in this house in London. When Soap arrived with a mischievous look on his face and told the couple about “Operation Red Skull”, they were automatically IN on it.

And who would’ve fucking guessed? They made his house a home ground for matchmaking, and they succeeded. They weren’t his best subordinates for nothing after all.

Suddenly, Price heard a loud gasp from the three in front of him. His captain persona suddenly kicked in and stepped forward, shoving both of his sergeants to see the situation clearly.

There they saw Jade and Ghost, looking at each other, with Jade’s face looking like she was absolutely shocked.

“Oh my God… did she just sneak another kiss to him?!” Ladybug exclaimed with a whispering voice.

“FUCK! I didn’t have a clear visual.” Gaz followed.

“I think it was just a peck to his cheek??” Soap added.

“Everyone fall back!” Price commanded, and just like muscle memory, they all scrambled back to the living room, taking their respective deck of poker cards and sat around the messy table to pretend like they were still playing.

Soon after, Jade herself opened the back door with a face that none of them had ever seen before – a combination of shock and embarrassment.

“Jade? You okay?” Lady twisted her body to see Jade.

The former MI6 nodded uncontrollably like a shaking head doll. “Huh? Yeah. Yeah yeah, I’m okay.”

Gaz and Soap were covering their mouths with their deck of cards, unable to hide their smiles. It looked like they were about to break into a massive laughter any second now.

What broke it was Captain Price, who suddenly asked Jade,

“Really? What’s that black spot on your nose, then?”

---

YEEEHHEHEEHEHHHEHE. Sorry for the long wait! Thank you for reading! Hope y'all enjoyed it! (❁´◡`❁)

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <3

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actuallysaiyan · 1 year ago

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Masterlist IV

Started on: 02/03/2024 Updated on: 08/12/2024 Number of Works: 90 Completed on: 08/12/2024

Dorm Room Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader

Help!My Heart's On Fire(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)

You Could Have Anyone You Want, Why Would You Want To Be With Me?(Post-Shibuya!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)

Isn't This Your Naked Body In My Bed?(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader Somno)

You Never Fail To Satisfy(Salaryman!Nanami Kento x Femdom!Reader)

Send Me An Angel(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader x Higuruma Hiromi)

Office Head Thirst(Higuruma Hiromi x Fem!Reader)

Don't It Make You Feel So Fine(Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader x Suguru Geto)

Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader First Time Creampie Request

The Way You Push, Push Let's Me Know You're Good(Salaryman!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)

Age Gap Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Sleepless Night(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader somno)

Nanami Kento x Shy!Fem!Reader

You And Me(Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Childhood Crush!Reader)

Nanami Kento x Fem!Curse!Reader Part 1

Kento's Size Drabble

The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity)Masterlist

Werewolf!Nanami Kento Part 1

Waiting For The Miracle(Villain!Nanami Kento x Fem!Curse User!Reader)

Heart of the Fae(Fae!Nanami x Fem!Reader)Masterlist

Kento x Fem!Reader relaxing under tree Drabble

Nanami Kento x Fem!Curse!Reader Part II aka Bad Habit

Just What I Needed(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader bathtime)

La La Love You(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader x Haibara Yu)

"Missed You So Much" Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader Drabble

Werewolf!Nanami Kento Part 2

Office sex Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader Drabble

Pictures Of You Masterlist(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader x Satoru Gojo Junji Ito Crossover)

Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader Cunnilingus Drabble

Higuruma Hiromi x Fem!Reader Office Sex Drabble

Love Hotel(Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)

Kento Nanami x Fem!Reader Period sex

Ratio Technique Sex(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)

The Beast Inside Of Me(Incubus!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)

Get Him To Swap Our Places(Scarred!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)

Have You And Grab You 'Til You're Sore(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader x Gojo Satoru)

Cinnamon Girl(Older!Salaryman!Nanami Kento x Fem!Barista/Baker!Reader for Foodies and Goodies)

Premature Ejaculation with Teen!Nanami Kento

Love Like Blood(Nanami Kento x Fem!Sorcerer/Carrie White!Reader)

HaiNana x Fem!Reader HCs

You Say It's Your Birthday(HaiNana x Fem!Reader)

Take Me To Dinner First(Nanami Kento x Gojo Satoru)

Then You'll Make Him Happy(Scarred!Nanami x Fem!Reader)

Christmas Time Is Here(Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader x Suguru Geto)

Meet Me In Our Special Spot(Renji Abarai x Fem!Reader)

She's Got Big Red Eyes and Big Red Lips(Renji Abarai x Fem!Reader)

No Other Heart(Executioner!Kenpachi Zaraki x Fem!Princess!Reader)

We Can Do Whatever You Want To Do(Ishida Uryu x Fem!Reader)

Showing Your Loyalty(Renji Abarai x Fem!Reader)

Kenpachi x Fem!Reader Breeding kink

Make Me Feel Love(Kenpachi x Fem!Reader)

Howling At The Moon(Werewolf!Kenpachi x Fem!Reader)

Biting Down(Kenpachi x Fem!Reader)

Silence Teaches You How(Serial Killer!Kenpachi Zaraki x Fem!Reader)

Menage A Trois(Retsu Unohana x Fem!Reader x Kenpachi Zaraki)

Let Me Into Your Heart(Rufus Shinra x Fem!Reader)

Popstar!Reader x Gohan, x Trunks, x Goten

Family HCs with Indra Otsutsuki, Madara Uchiha and Izuna Uchiha

Thank You(Scarred!Kyojuro Rengoku x Fem!Reader)

Popsicle Mishaps(All Might x Fem!Reader)

Deeper(All Might x Fem!Reader)

A Good Night's Sleep(Aizawa Shota x Fem!Reader)

My Baby(All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

Get Your Fix(All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

Run Rabbit Run(All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

Call Me Mom!(All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

The Big News(All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

Oral sex All Might Drabble

Small Might cockwarming fic(Small Might x Fem!Reader)

Baby I'm Yours(All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

And Keep The Beast At Bay(Incubus!All Smite/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

I Desire Your Attention(All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

You're Mine Part I(Endeavor/Enji Todoroki x Fem!Reader)

Everything(All Might x Fem!Reader)

You're Mine Part II(Endeavor/Enji Todoroki x Fem!Reader)

Crawling King Snake(All Smite/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

Video Vamps(Vampire!Shota Aizawa x Fem!Reader x Vampire!Hizashi Yamada)

The Rain I(All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Hero!Reader)

The Rain II(All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Hero!Reader)

Night Drive(All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

There's A Light(Tomura Shigaraki x Fem!Reader)

The Rain III(All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Hero!Reader)

Stay With Me(Sugar Daddy!Enji Todoroki x Fem!Sugar Baby!Reader)

Learning To Love(Sugar Daddy!All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Sugar Baby!Reader)

Thank You For The Meal(Small Smite/Villain!Small Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

Christmas Is The Time To Say I Love You(Tenko Shimura/Tomura Shigaraki x Fem!Reader)

Love Man(All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

Messy Messy(All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

Ira Gamagori x Reader Thirst Part I

Ira Gamagori x Reader Thirst Part II

#bacon.writes #masterlist #jjk x reader #bleach x reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #nanami x reader #gojo x reader #renji x reader #kenpachi x reader #geto x reader #choso x reader

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stylesispunk · 2 years ago

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"Last Christmas"

No outbreak! Joel Miller x f! Reader

Summary: Last year Joel and you crossed your own boundaries leaving a lasting impact on both of you. Now, that you're back in the city what would happen between you both when all the odds aren't in your favor?

Warnings: Age gap (Joel is 42 and reader 27) Christmas angst, emotional cheating in the slight.

Word count: 7k>> long one.

a/n: Hi! In the beginning, I wanted to write a fic about the "Last Christmas" song by Wham! but I ended up writing something different. I kept the name though. In this story, Joel doesn't have Sarah, so he is a lonely man. Part II may be in the works depending on how this one performs. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, I hope you enjoy this, happy reading💌

Part ii

masterlist

dividers by @/saradika

A year ago, you had left Austin, leaving no trace behind you, not even footprints for those who wanted to remember you. You become a gosht for some, for others a persistent torment.

No letters.

No souvenirs.

No goodbyes.

You just simply left behind every trace that reminded you of Joel. From a chilly winter night, following the gathering of your family’s Christmas Eve party, that used to have people together, when you found yourself waking up under the sheets of your father neighbor’s, and friend's bed.

You couldn’t lie and say there wasn’t anything between you two. Your father had introduced you both at a dinner party for your mother’s birthday. From that moment your paths crossed in an incandescent glow, painting the gray skies in a multicolor universe you hadn’t had the chance to meet before.

And it was that night, at the Christmas Eve party, when you met sin. The exchange of gazes was a secret in a crowded room, with nobody getting the idea about you and him. At that moment, his eyes were on you and he made everyone disappear, building up an electric friction between you. A spark, a connection that transcended the glow of the twinkling lights and laughs around.

He spoke a language that only you were able to understand.

All the months of passing back and forth, blossomed into a romantic interaction that made you understand Joel was just not a passing spark; he stroked the flame of your starved heart and you refused to let it be extinguished.

But when you both disappeared that night, breaking the rules of your illicit affair under the sheets of his bed, you lost him.

When the morning came, you couldn’t face the consequences of what had happened, nor was he staring out the window instead of your face, detached and distant. The gravity followed a blind faith and left you both in broken pieces with neither of daring to face the aftermath of your promise being broken.

Nothing beyond these kisses can happen between us. He said one day.

His voice, the way he said it still echoed in your mind. And you both were crazy to think that something between you both could work when the world around you was against it.

And he knew you would eventually leave this town to follow your dreams, but he didn’t know you would do it too soon.

Two days after no communication, you left him behind.

Without a warning, without a last chance to look at your face or to kiss your lips. You just simply vanished from his touch.

You disappeared with his love as a forbidden secret.

You never were able to break a heart until you broke his.

Now, as Christmas approached once again, you found yourself back in your hometown, nestled within the protection of the walls of your parents. The air was thick with the essence of the spirits you hid in the closet before leaving this town behind, the same now were plotting to escape and ruin your stay in this place you used to call home.

As you entered the house, the scent of holiday pastries and the picture of mixed decorations enveloped you. Your mother with joy, welcomed you with open arms. Your father, a man of few words, gave you a nod, acknowledging your return.

Sitting in the living room, surrounded by the ghosts of your past, your mother couldn't help but sense the heaviness that lingered in your eyes. She looked at you with a mother's intuition, sensing that there was more to your return than a simple visit.

"What's on your mind, dear?" she asked gently, her eyes filled with both curiosity and concern.

Your mother studied you for a moment, her gaze penetrating through the layers of your facade. She could sense the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air, but she chose not to press further, respecting the boundaries you set.

"If you ever want to talk, remember that I'm here," she said, her voice carrying the comfort of maternal understanding.

“Yes, you can start by explaining why you left the city without a warning” your father spoke, a tint of sadness and anger in his words.

You took a deep breath, grappling with the internal turmoil that had led you to this moment. The ghosts of your past, once neatly tucked away, seemed to stir, threatening to break free from their confines.

"It's complicated, Dad," you began, the words hesitant but genuine. "I... I needed to leave. There were things I couldn't face, mistakes I made that I needed to distance myself from."

He sighed, a mixture of understanding and frustration in his eyes. "We all make mistakes, but leaving without a word, without letting us know if you were safe, that hurt, Honey. We're your family."

The weight of your actions settled in, and you nodded, the guilt evident in your expression. "I know, Dad. I should have handled it differently. But at that time, I couldn't see any other way."

Your mother reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "We just want to understand, dear. It's been hard for us”

“But I’m here now, and New York has treated me well”

Your mother offered a gentle smile, relieved to have you back within the folds of the family. "We're glad you're here, sweetheart. New York is a big city, and we were worried about you navigating it alone."

You took a moment to reflect on your time in New York, appreciating the opportunities and challenges the city had presented. "It's been a journey, for sure. The city is fast-paced, and there's always something happening. But I've been learning a lot and, overall, things have been treating me well."

Your father's stern expression softened as he listened to your words. "Just remember, we're here for you, no matter where life takes you. Just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean you have to face everything alone."

The warmth in your mother's touch and the understanding in your father's words brought a sense of comfort, a reassurance that, despite the complexities of the past, your family remained a big support.

“Your brother and sister are arriving soon, why don’t you go to rest a bit?” your mom said.

You nodded, appreciative of the suggestion. "Yeah, maybe a short rest would do me good. It's been a long journey."

Your mother gave you a tender smile, her eyes filled with maternal concern. "Take your time, dear. We're just happy to have you home."

As you made your way to the guest room, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. The familiar surroundings of your childhood home embraced you like a comforting blanket, and the echoes of laughter from the living room reminded you of the shared joy of family.

Closing the door to the guest room, you let out a sigh, allowing the weight of the past to settle for a moment. The bed, adorned with a quilt your mother had made years ago, seemed to invite you into its embrace.

As you lay down, the memories of New York and the complexities you left behind in Austin played like a film reel in your mind. The warmth of your mother's touch and the understanding in your father's words provided a glimmer of solace, a reminder that, despite the unspoken secrets, the bonds of family remained resilient.

And you fell asleep thinking about how after a year, only a door separated you from Joel now.

A few hours later, you were gently stirred from your sleep by the soft voice of your niece. The warm sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow on the room announcing the darkness of the night was arriving.

"Aunt! Aunt!" she exclaimed; her excitement palpable.

You blinked, adjusting to the daylight, and smiled at the sight of your enthusiastic niece. "Hey there, little one. What's going on?"

With uncontainable joy, she announced, "Mom and Dad are here! Uncle is here too!"

Your grogginess melted away as you realized what those words meant. Your family has reunited together again, a moment you had been looking forward to since you moved to another a year ago.

With your energy back, you joined your nice as she led the way to the living room, where the air was already buzzing with the chatter and laughter of your siblings and brother-in-law. Once your figure emerged in the room, your older sister Emma and big brother Andy greeted you with big smiles on their faces.

"Look who's finally awake!" your Emma exclaimed, pulling you into a tight embrace.

Andy, with his characteristic humor, added, "Thought you were going to sleep through the whole reunion." He spoke, going for a hug as your sister pulled away “I’ve been missing you so much big baby”

"I've been missing you too, big brother," you replied, returning his hug. All the sadness bubbling inside you melted away with the warmth of the family reunion.

Your niece, still bubbling with excitement, chimed in, "My aunt was sleeping like a bear, but I woke her up!"

Your brother-in-law, joining the playful banter, teased, "Sleeping beauty finally awakens."

“Hi there Troy” you smiled at him, hugging him.

"Hi, you," Troy replied, returning the hug with a friendly pat on the back. The room echoed with the easy banter and laughter that characterized the unique dynamics of your family.

As you settled into the reunion, you all sat around the table eating dinner your mom and dad had cooked for this moment. The atmosphere of the night went back and forth from playful conversation to the serious tone of the real adult life you all were living. Emma, always worried about you, asked you about your life in New York and the adventures you have lived since you left Austin.

"It's been a journey," you shared a reflective note in your voice. "New York is a world of its own, but I've been learning a lot, both about the city and myself."

Troy chimed in, "I've seen your updates on Instagram. Big city life suits you; it seems."

You nodded, appreciating the support "It has its challenges, but I've found my way. And how have things been here?" you asked, turning the focus back to your family.

Emma shared stories of family adventures, your niece animatedly described the school, and Troy added humorous anecdotes. The room resonated with the warmth of shared moments, creating a tapestry of memories that wove together in the past, finding its way to the present.

As the lively dinner conversation continued, your family members took turns sharing anecdotes and updates about their lives. Laughter echoed through the room, creating an atmosphere of familiarity and connection.

Your dad, sitting at the head of the table, finally chimed in with a gleam in his eye. "Speaking of repairs, Joel stopped by yesterday and helped me fix the leaky faucet in the kitchen. Handy fellow, that one."

The mention of Joel's made your heart skip a beat, causing a subtle shift in your demeanor.

"Oh, really?" you replied, your voice carefully neutral. "That's... helpful."

Your father continued to tell you all about the unexpected repair session, praising Joel's handy talents and charming demeanor. The words hung in the air, and you were unable to ignore your sister, sitting opposite you. Her curious glance briefly met yours, and you could sense her interest bubbling underneath the outer layer.

As the dinner conversation progressed, Emma successfully directed the conversation to more general topics, including everyone in a discussion about Christmas preparation and traditions. Her attentive eyes, on the other hand, suggested a level of awareness that went beyond what was visible to everyone at the table.

Emma's focused gaze, on the other hand, continued to indicate awareness, and you couldn't shake the sense that she was puzzling together the puzzle. The affair between you and Joel had left a mark, and the holiday reunion had become a delicate dance of concealing and disclosing, and you were concerned that your illicit affair would eventually come to light.

Later in the evening, as the rest of the family dispersed around the house, you and Emma found yourselves sitting together with cookies and tea in hand. The festive decorations adorned the living room, casting a warm glow on the surroundings.

Emma's focused gaze hinted at the questions lingering beneath the surface. The casual conversation about Christmas preparations and traditions gradually gave way to a more personal inquiry.

Sipping her tea, Emma finally reached the subject. "So, how's love life in New York? Anything interesting happening?”

You pulled a smile amid your anxious flutter. "Oh, you know, the usual city hustle and bustle. My romantic life, on the other hand, has been relatively quiet.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Quiet, huh? I find that hard to believe. What about that guy you were seeing last year?"

Your heart skipped a beat, and you struggled to maintain composure. "Guy? What guy?" you asked, faking innocence.

Emma leaned in, her expression holding curiosity. "Come on, don't play coy with me. I noticed something was going on between you and Joel last year. Don't tell me I was imagining things."

Feigning nonchalance, you attempted to divert the conversation. "Joel and I were just friends. You know how it is people misinterpret things."

But Emma wasn't easily swayed. She raised an eyebrow, a skeptical expression on her face. "Just friends? The way you two looked at each other went beyond friendship, and I'm not imagining things."

You sighed, realizing that you couldn't dismiss her observations easily. "Okay, maybe there was something more," you admitted reluctantly. "But it was complicated, and I didn't want to bring unnecessary drama into the family."

Emma's expression softened with understanding, but a hint of concern remained. "Complicated how?"

“Come on Emma, he is fifteen years older than me and Dad loves him, imagine how fucked up for him to know her daughter was dating his friend who happens to be his neighbor.”

Emma's eyes widened with realization, and she nodded in understanding. "Oh, I see. That does sound complicated."

You continued, your voice carrying the weight of the unspoken challenges. "And there were other factors too. Career aspirations, the age difference, and the fear of disrupting the family dynamic—it just wasn't sustainable."

She placed a reassuring hand on yours. "I get it. Relationships can be messy, especially when they involve people close to home. But, darling, you can't carry all of that on your shoulders alone. We're family, and we're here for you."

You offered a small smile, appreciating Emma's support. "Thanks, Em. It's just been a lot to process."

You hesitated, weighing your words carefully. "We knew it wouldn't work. There were too many obstacles, and we decided it was best to end things."

Emma studied your face, her gaze searching for the truth beneath the surface. "And now? Have you moved on?"

You nodded, a sense of resignation settling over you. "Yes, I've moved on. New York has been a fresh start for me, and I've been focusing on my career and personal growth."

Emma's gaze softened with empathy. "I just want you to be happy, you know? If there's anything you need to talk about, I'm here for you."

“Thank you, Em,” you said, holding her hand.

The following day, with your parent's Christmas party approaching, you, your father, and your brother made your way to the supermarket to buy the groceries. The upcoming celebration was a tradition for your parents and the joy of this day has been filling the air, since your arrival, so the three of you navigated the aisles of the supermarket, filling the cart with the essentials.

When your father and brother went to another aisle, you started looking for some drinks. Your attention momentarily deviated, and you collided with someone. The impact jolted through you, and as you steadied yourself, you found your eyes locking with someone you wanted to avoid,

Joel.

And there, in the middle of the aisle, time seemed to stand still. The echoes of your past encounters resurfaced. Joel’s gaze held a mix of surprise, and for a moment both of you were silent, not knowing how to react.

"Hi," Joel finally said, breaking the silence. His voice carried a weight in his words, and you could feel the venom.

"Hi," you replied, your voice tinged with shame and sadness. The supermarket aisle suddenly felt like a confined space, threatening you.

When Joel was about to say something else, your father and brother joined you in the aisle, noticing Joel standing there in front of you.

“Joel!” your father exclaimed with a smile “Fancy meeting you here, I suppose you’re coming tomorrow?”

"Hey!” Joel greeted them, reciprocating the smiles. “I wouldn’t miss it”

“Great because- “

Just as your father was about to say something, a woman appeared behind Joel, breaking the moment “Joel, love, I found the sauce for our lunch”, she announced with a bright smile.

Love, you thought, the nickname ringing in your ears.

Your heart sank, that meant he moved on from you. Joel’s eyes briefly met yours, and you could sense them burning on your skull.

Before anyone could say something, you excused yourself, stammering, "I, uh, forgot something for lunch. I'll catch up with you guys later."

As you rapidly made your way out from their view, you navigated through the crowded supermarket, you felt a mix of emotions. The encounter had brought forth the reality of Joel's life moving forward, and the endearing nickname from the woman emphasized the distance that had grown between you.

You still feel his, but he wasn’t yours anymore.

Perhaps, he never was.

When the darkness of the night enveloped Austin, you excuse yourself for a moment to go out and breathe the cold air of the night in the backyard. The air was crisp, and a light dusting of leaves crunched beneath your feet as you made your way to the bench beside the tree. The solitude felt like a sweet balm for you as a temporary escape from the bustling movement inside the house due to the upcoming party.

Settling onto the bench with a mug of warm tea in your hands, you gazed up at the winter sky, the stars twinkling in a vast expanse. The coldness was something you had grown accustomed to in New York, but for some reason, here felt colder in your bones.

As you lost yourself in the eerie night, it seemed like you weren’t the only one with the same idea. You sensed a presence closer. Turning your head, you saw Joel stepping out to his backyard, only the wooden fence separating the two of you. His eyes met yours instantly and you felt how the air felt colder.

Choosing to avoid direct eye contact with him, you shifted your gaze back to the sky, the mug in your hands offering a comforting warmth through your body. The silence between you and Joel felt heavy, laden with unspoken words and the weight of a shared past.

The distance between you was both physical and emotional, and the fence that separated the yards seemed to symbolize the barriers that had grown over a year of no talking.

For a moment, you pondered the complexities of the past, the changes in both your lives and the uncertain future that lay ahead. As the coldness of the night seeped through, you couldn't help but wonder if this unexpected encounter under the stars would be the catalyst for facing the unresolved emotions that lingered between you and Joel.

The silence between you and Joel stretched on, the only audible sounds being the hushed whispers of the night

"It's been a long time," he said, breaking the quietude of the night.

You kept your gaze fixed on the night sky, a silent acknowledgment of his observation.

"I see you’re in town," Joel continued.

You nodded slightly, acknowledging his words without turning to face him. "Just for the holidays.”

A subtle pause followed, as if both of you were navigating the weird stage of talking again. The memories of that chilly winter night and the unspoken promises lingered beneath the surface.

"Today at the supermarket," he admitted, breaking the silence once again. "Didn't expect to run into you like that."

The mention of your previous encounter woke up something within you, you finally turned your gaze toward him, your eyes meeting his for the first time since your return.

"Yeah, it was... unexpected," you admitted, the unspoken tension lingering in the air.

The backyard, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, became a stage for the reunion of two individuals who once shared something deep. As the coldness of the night surrounded you, the shared gaze under the stars held the potential for understanding, closure, or perhaps the beginning of a new chapter in the journey you both had embarked on separately.

Joel took a deep breath before speaking again. "I heard you are happy in New York," he remarked, his gaze still fixed on you.

"Yeah" you hummed "I saw you have a girlfriend"

Joel's expression shifted, surprise and discomfort clouding his features.

"Yeah," he replied cautiously, "we've been together for a while."

The revelation hung between you like an unspoken challenge, and a heavy silence settled over the backyard. The night, once serene, now felt charged with the complexities of your shared history and the stark reminder that life had moved on for both of you.

You took a deep breath, attempting to compose yourself, to regain the equilibrium that had momentarily slipped away. The night air, however, seemed colder now, mirroring the chill that had settled within you.

"I should go back inside," you said, your voice softer but still tinged with the residual bitterness.

Joel nodded, his gaze lingering for a moment before turning away. As you retreated from the backyard, the wooden fence once again became a symbolic barrier, separating the present from the past.

The door closed behind you, and the warmth of the house enveloped you, but the encounter under the stars lingered in the recesses of your mind. The complexities of the night had illuminated the unresolved emotions that still needed time to settle, and as Christmas approached, you found yourself grappling with the unexpected twists of this unwanted reunion. The echoes of love and loss that remained entangled in the tapestry of your shared history.

Amidst the festive chaos of the Christmas Eve party at your parents' house, the air thick with laughter and the mingling of guests, you found yourself needing a moment of solitude. The house echoed with the warmth of shared joy, but the weight of unspoken emotions lingered within you.

As you made your way outside carefully, you deeply knew you were doing everything at your had to avoid at the party, and being outside would be a start.

Once you stepped into the backyard, you let a deep breathe escaped from your lungs. The crips winter air embraced your bare shoulders, but you didn’t mind the coldness, the air felt like a breeze allowing you to breathe.

But for your surprise, things not always worked out for you. Joel sat there, a few steps away, seemingly seeking the same solace as you. The silence of the backyard contrasted with the buzzing inside the house, creating a space for reflection and solitude.

It seems like the universe wanted to pull you together somehow.

"Hey," Joel greeted, his voice carrying a hint of the familiar fire that once resonated between you two.

"Hi," you replied, offering a small smile noticeable under the dim lights of the backyard.

The backyard became a silent witness to the unspoken secret story shared between you two. Here one year after you both knew each other in a way that was invisible to others, you stood again, face to face.

The air became thick with charged energy of unspoken words, and for a moment, you stood in a tightrope suspended between what was and what could have been.

As you exchanged glances, a mutual understanding passed between you. The complexities of your history, the unspoken words, and the lingering emotions were present in the shared gaze.

"Mind if I join you?" you asked, breaking the silence.

Joel nodded, and together, in the quiet solitude of the backyard on Christmas Eve, you found a moment to breathe, allowing the weight of the past to settle in the hushed conversations and shared glances under the glow of festive lights.

The cobblestones beneath you felt cold, contrasting with the warmth of the festive lights overhead. You and Joel sat side by side, shoulders touching, and despite your bare arms in your dress, the friction of Joel’s touch against your skin sent a familiar warmth throughout your body.

That silence spoke volumes. The shared secret increased a palpable tension, but in the quietude of the backyard, the beatings of your hearts were the only thing you could hear.

After a while, Joel broke the silence. "It's been a year," he said softly, his gaze fixed on the distant lights.

"Yeah, a year," you replied, the words heavy with the unspoken emotions of the past.

Joel turned to look at you, his eyes searching yours. "I never got a chance to say goodbye properly. It just... ended and you were gone."

Your gaze met his, and for a moment, the echoes of the past filled the space between you. "I know," you whispered, the weight of regret in your words.

The Christmas lights above flickered, casting a soft glow on both of you. In that quiet moment, under the canopy of stars, you and Joel sat in shared contemplation, a bittersweet reminder of where the path of love and love met.

“Your girlfriend?” you asked, out of the blue. Those words slipped from your lips without previous thinking.

The question hung in the air, pregnant with the weight of unspoken emotions. Joel's gaze lingered on the distant lights for a moment, and then he turned to meet your eyes. The pause felt like an eternity before he finally spoke.

"I broke up with her” he began, his voice carrying sincerity and hesitation. "It was never gonna work”

"I'm sorry to hear that," you replied sincerely, even though a part of you couldn't help but feel a tinge of conflicting emotions. The shared history, the unresolved feelings, and the present reality collided in this moment.

Joel nodded, his gaze returning to the distant lights. "It needed to happen. We both knew it. It was just a matter of time."

You nodded, understanding the mix of emotions all too well. The silence settled between you again, the unspoken understanding weaving a fragile thread in the quiet night.

"I never wanted to hurt you," you added, your voice soft with remorse.

"I know," he replied, offering a small smile. The intricacies of your shared history had left scars, but in this moment, there was a sense of acceptance for what wasn’t meant to be. “We’re different”

The last words broke your heart a little, you just wanted to go back to those meeting behind the eyes of witnesses. Back when you were still sharing stolen kisses and glances, tracing patterns on the palm of his hand. Back when you weren’t two strangers without nothing to say.

“Do you love her? you asked, blandly.

“I care about her” he said simply.

“Have you ever loved someone?” you inquired, again.

The question lingered in the air, and for a moment, a subtle vulnerability crossed Joel's features. As if the question found him with no warning. He met your gaze with a certain intensity, his eyes revealing emotions that words were incapable of capturing.

"Yes," he replied, his voice soft, the unspoken acknowledgment hanging between you. The weight of the unspoken love that once connected you both seemed to fill the space.

You have never said those three words before, but the secret language seemed to be doing its job, and the Christmas lights overhead cast a gentle glow on the emotions laid bare in your eyes and Joel's.

Joel's gaze remained fixed on yours, his eyes revealing the emotions that transcended the limitations of spoken language. The unspoken confession echoed between you, creating a fragile bridge that spanned the gap between the past and the present.

"I don’t want to forget," Joel whispered, breaking the silence once again. The admission held a touch of vulnerability.

"I don’t want to forget either," you replied, your voice carrying a mixture of nostalgia and acceptance. The shared understanding between you two seemed to bridge the gap, if only for a moment, allowing the remnants of your shared history to find a place in the present.

You felt the need to break the killing silence that enveloped you both. "I should probably head back inside," you said, your voice carrying a soft tone.

Joel's gaze lingered on yours, and for a moment, it seemed as if time stopped, and as you began to turn away, Joel gently caught hold of your hand.

When Joel finally released your hand, you felt a subtle tug at your heart. It was a bittersweet reminder of the intimacy you once shared, and the reality of the present settling in.

With a final look, Joel nodded, his eyes conveying a mixture of emotions. You turned away, leaving the quiet backyard and the echoes of the past behind.

Once inside, you felt a lump in your throat and air seemed unable to leave your lungs. You felt suffocated.

Emma, being as perceptive as always, noticed you in distress. She approached you with a concerned expression. "What happened?" she asked, her eyes searching yours for answers.

You hesitated, struggling to find the right words. "Just... nothing” you managed to say, attempting to downplay the effect of Joel on you.

Emma's gaze remained fixed on you, her intuition sensing that there was more beyond that answer. However, before she could press further, Joel stepped inside the house. A subtle tension filled the air as Emma's eyes met yours, and in that shared look, understanding passed between you.

The unspoken language between sisters didn’t need more words. Emma realized the weight of the encounter in the backyard between you and Joel, the echoes of a past that had not completely faded. The acknowledgment passed between you two without a word, an unspoken understanding of the complexities that lingered in the air.

As Joel moved further into the house, Emma offered a reassuring touch on your arm. "If you ever want to talk, I'm here," she whispered, her eyes reflecting the sisterly bond that had always been a source of support.

You nodded appreciatively, acknowledging the unspoken offer of solace. The Christmas celebration continued around you, but the encounter in the backyard had cast a shadow over the festivities, a poignant reminder of the intricate dance between love and loss.

You had broken his heart that night, but you also broke yours in the process.

As the hour passed, you found yourself engaged in polite conversation with some friends of the family and a friend of your father who seemed eager to play matchmaker for his son. The well-intentioned attempts at setting up a date had created a temporary diversion, but once they left you alone, you sighed in relief.

You weren’t really into dating right now, not when you heart belonged to the man next door.

And as if you had called for him, Joel appeared by your side again, his presence unobtrusive but noticeable.

"Can we talk?" you felt a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.

Nodding in agreement, you both found a quieter corner away from the festive chatter. The Christmas lights overhead cast a gentle glow on the space between you, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade away, just as if a director were shooting a scene for a movie.

“Can we go to my house?” he rather asked, after a while.

“No..” you said unsure “You know what happened last time I was there” you added.

Joel's gaze remained earnest, and you could sense the vulnerability in his eyes. The invitation to go to his house carried a weight of history, a place where memories of your shared past were etched into the very walls.

"I know," he responded, his voice carrying a hint of regret. "But there are things we need to talk about. Closure, maybe."

The word "closure" hung in the air, a bittersweet promise that tugged at the edges of your emotions. The Christmas lights overhead flickered like stars, casting a cinematic glow on the unfolding scene. You didn’t want this to be the end. You didn’t want to go back to being strangers without anything in common.

After a moment of contemplation, you sighed and nodded. "Okay, let's go."

You both stepped away from the celebration, the night embraced you with its quietude. The air was cold, carrying the essence of winter, and the soft glow of the Christmas lights seemed to guide you through the familiar streets.

Silent footsteps echoed between you, each one carrying the weight of unspoken words and unfinished stories. The walk to Joel's house next to yours felt eternal surrounded by the silence.

As you reached the doorstep, Joel hesitated for a moment before opening the door. A rush of memories flooded your mind, carrying you back to that pivotal moment a year ago. The air held anticipation, and as you stepped inside, the warmth of his home embraced you like an old, familiar friend.

As you entered, Joel closed the door behind you, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade away. The hushed whispers of shared secrets and stolen glances lingered in the air, creating an electric tension you couldn’t resist when you were alone.

Joel's eyes met yours, and a silent pleading between you. It was a dance you both knew well, one of unspoken desires and forbidden affairs.

He closed the distance between you with deliberate steps, his gaze never leaving yours. The air crackled with anticipation as he cupped your face gently, his touch tender yet possessive. And then, in that intimate space, he kissed you.

back against the wall, hands roaming through your body, finger interlocking the curls of his hair…

Back in the present, the door closed with a soft click, snapping you out of the memory. Joel's hesitant gaze met yours, and the echoes of that forbidden night resonated in the silent space between you, a reminder of a love that once burned brightly but had since been extinguished.

Joel led you further into the house, the familiar surroundings triggering a cascade of memories. The living room held echoes of shared laughter, whispered conversations, and stolen moments that were now frozen in the sands of time.

As you both settled into the present, Joel gestured towards the sofa. "Please, have a seat," he said, his voice carrying a blend of nostalgia and present reality.

“Do you want some wine?”

“I quit drinking” you said, a tint of humor in your voice.

“Since when?” he asked.

"Since I left," you replied, a trace of solemnity in your tone. The decision to quit drinking had been one of the changes you embraced in the wake of your departure from Austin. A symbolic act of shedding the old skin, leaving behind the habits that were intertwined with memories of the past. With the memories of Joel.

Joel nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the transformations that had taken place in both your lives.

"I've been thinking a lot about us since I saw you" he admitted, his gaze fixated on a point in the room, as if the walls held the answers to the questions lingering between you.

“You saw me yesterday” you replied.

Joel let out a small chuckle, a mixture of nervousness and amusement. "Yeah, yesterday. And it brought back a flood of memories, you know? The good and the... complicated."

You nodded, understanding the intricacies of those memories. The room seemed to pulse with the weight of shared history, each corner holding fragments of a past that was both beautiful and painful.

"I never got the chance to properly say goodbye," Joel continued, his eyes meeting yours with a vulnerability that echoed your own. "Things just ended abruptly, and I never had the closure I needed."

The word "closure" hung in the air again, a theme that seemed to weave through this conversation. It was evident that both of you were grappling with the untied threads of an illicit relationship that had left wounds unhealed.

"You didn't have to leave like that, you know," Joel said, his voice carrying a note of regret. "It felt like you vanished, and I had no way to reach out." He paused, “I should have stopped you."

The admission hung in the air; skipping a beat in your heart, a confession tinged with remorse. Joel's words echoed the sentiment that perhaps, in the haze of emotions and unspoken words, there had been opportunities missed, moments where the trajectory of your paths might have been altered.

"I should have stopped you," he repeated, his eyes holding regret and longing.

You took a deep breath, the weight of the past and the complexities of the present settling on your shoulders. "Maybe it was for the best, Joel. We both needed space, time to figure things out."

“No” he answered, closing the distance between you. His forehead touching yours, nose touching yours, as if seeking a way to hold you for a little bit more of time before you leave again.

"I've changed," you admitted, your voice carrying the weight of self-discovery. "Leaving was about finding myself, understanding what I wanted and needed."

The room held a charged silence.

"I want us to have closure, Joel," you said, breaking the silence. "To understand and accept what happened, and find a way to move forward."

He still didn’t pull away from you, grasping your face with his hands to prevent you to go away before he got the chance to say goodbye. He leaned closer, almost savoring the taste of your lips again.

“I can't," he admitted, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. The reality of his current relationship had momentarily faded in the magnetic pull between you two.

You gently pushed him away, creating a necessary distance. "Joel. I won't be the cause of hurting someone else."

His gaze lingered on yours, a silent acknowledgment of the boundaries that needed to be respected. The room held a heavyweight, a mix of the emotions that had lingered for far too long.

"I should go," you said, breaking the silence. The room seemed to exhale as you stepped away, creating a physical and emotional space between you and Joel.

As you turned to leave, Joel's voice cut through the silence, filled with regret and a genuine desire to understand.

"Don't go," he implored, his eyes searching yours for a connection. The magnetic pull between you and him seemed to intensify, and the room, despite its physical boundaries, felt like a battleground of conflicting emotions.

You paused, your hand on the doorknob, torn between the longing for closure and the fear of rekindling a flame that had once burned so brightly. Joel's plea echoed in the quiet room, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and the unspoken desire to break the gap between the both of you.

"I can't, Joel," you replied, your voice carrying a blend of vulnerability and determination. "It's not fair to her, to you, or to me."

Joel took a step closer, his gaze unwavering. "I just need to understand, to talk. Please."

Your internal struggle played out on your face as you considered his words. The desire for closure, for a resolution to the unfinished story between you two, warred with the knowledge that reopening old wounds could lead to more pain.

"Okay," you finally relented, your voice barely above a whisper. The decision seemed to hang in the air, a delicate agreement to navigate the complexities of your shared history.

Joel's expression softened, gratitude and yearning evident in his eyes. The room, once heavy with tension, now held the promise of a conversation that could bring understanding and, perhaps, a sense of closure.

Joel took a deep breath, breaking the silence that had settled between you. "I know there's an age difference," he began, his voice carrying the weight of acknowledgment. "And I know your parents would be disappointed."

The reality of the situation hung in the air like an invisible barrier. The societal expectations, the judgments that might come, and the potential disappointment from your family added layers of complexity to an already intricate web of emotions.

You nodded; your gaze fixed on a distant point in the room. "It's not just about age, Joel. It's about the choices we make and the consequences they carry."

Joel's hands gently cradled your face, with tenderness and longing. The warmth in his eyes sought connection, an unspoken plea for you to give in.

"Let me enjoy this week with you," he implored, his voice a gentle caress. "Before you go back to New York. Before we part ways again”

The vulnerability in his plea resonated with the unspoken desires that lingered between you two.

"Let me call you “baby” again” he asked, his gaze searching yours for permission, a request to reclaim a term of endearment that had once been an intimate part of your shared history.

Your gaze met Joel's, a silent language between your eyes. You found yourself torn between the desire to hold onto the fragments of a love that once was and the understanding that the consequences of those choices were complex and far-reaching.

"I don't know, Joel," you replied, your voice a delicate whisper. "It's not that simple”

Joel's hands lingered on your face, his eyes searching yours for a sign, a connection that transcended the complexities of the situation.

"Let's spend Christmas together," Joel pleaded, his voice carrying a mixture of longing and resignation. "And then I'll let you go, even if it breaks my heart once more."

As you gazed into Joel's eyes, the unspoken understanding between you two seemed to transcend the complexities of the situation. In that moment, under the soft glow of Christmas lights, you found yourself leaning into him, into his touch and caring that echoed the flames of your shared affair.

"Okay, Joel," you whispered, your voice carrying the weight of this compromise. "Let's enjoy this week together."

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